#THEN RAMBLED ABOUT IT TO MY ROOMMATE AS THEY MADE DINNER

[scatterbrainedbot]

MAXED OUT THE TAGS BUT I STILL HAVE TOO MANY THOUGHTS

(ALSO NOT REALLY RELEVANT BUT IM MAKING MORE GHIBLI CONNECTIONS AMD COINCIDENTALLY I HAVE TO GO DRAW RIGHT NOW IMMEDIATELY)

AHSHAHAHDHD I ALREADY LOVE THIS NEW AU

but my one question is: what exactly are each of the brothers? mikey is clearly some kind of wanderer and raph a stone giant, donnie some kind of scholar/inventor, but leo is the one im most confused about. is he a nymph? a witch?

ty also @cococakeyum for the ask :D <3

(AND SPECIAL MENTION TO @scatterbrainedbot BECAUSE ILY YOUR TAGS ARE KILLING ME, GETTING ME SO HYPED FR :'D <3333)

[tobiosbbyghorl]

Hoodie Thief | psh 🔞

pairing: roommate!sunghoon x reader

epilogue

You weren’t sure when it became a habit—stealing Park Sunghoon’s hoodies. Maybe it was the night you came home late from a party, heels in one hand and a headache blooming behind your eyes, and he tossed you his oversized black one without even looking up from his laptop. Or maybe it was because they always smelled faintly of cinnamon and clean laundry, like comfort itself.

Whatever the reason, you were wearing one again. This time it was gray, soft, and swallowed you whole. Sunghoon was seated on the living room floor, laptop open, knees drawn up, glasses slipping slightly down his nose as he squinted at some code on the screen.

“You know,” he said, voice casual but laced with amusement, “at this point, I’m not even sure which hoodies are mine anymore.”

You sank onto the couch beside him, tugging the sleeve over your hand. “Well, technically, they’re community property now. Roommate rules.”

“That so?” he asked, glancing up at you over the rim of his glasses. His eyes lingered on your frame, his gaze unhurried as it dropped to the hoodie you wore. “Looks better on you anyway.”

You tried not to grin, but your cheeks betrayed you. “Flattery, Park?”

“Observation,” he replied smoothly, returning to his screen.

The teasing between you two had always been like this slow, drawn-out, never quite tipping over the edge. He’d brush past you in the kitchen, hand resting on your lower back just a second too long. You’d find excuses to fix his crooked tie when he got ready for class presentations, fingers grazing his collarbone just because. The tension was a thread stretched taut but never snapped.

You leaned in slightly, your knee pressing lightly against his. “You know what would really seal the roommate bond?”

He raised a brow, not looking up. “What’s that?”

“You letting me keep this one,” you said, tugging at the hoodie like it was a prize.

Sunghoon’s lips curved into a smirk, subtle and dangerous. He closed his laptop slowly, setting it aside.

“That depends,” he said, voice low, “on what I get in return.”

Your breath caught, but your smile didn’t falter. “Oh? You charging a fee now?”

He shifted just a little closer, the space between your knees gone. “Just thinking… maybe you owe me dinner. Or..” his eyes flicked down to your lips, then back up “a study session. You, me, one of my hoodies, and absolutely no distractions.”

You huffed a laugh. “Sounds like a trap.”

“Maybe.” He leaned in a fraction. “But I think you’d look good in all of them. Might as well make it official.”

Your fingers played with the drawstring of the hoodie, heartbeat ticking just a little faster.

“We’re still talking about clothes, right?”

He gave you a look. “Sure.”

But neither of you moved. The line was still there drawn faintly in the space between your breaths, in the ghost of his smile. And maybe it would stay there a while longer.

Maybe not.

-

You had one rule living with Sunghoon: do not thirst after your roommate.

It was a rule you followed diligently. Mostly. Despite the flirty banter and hoodie theft, you’d never crossed that line—because he never gave you the chance to. He was always in those oversized hoodies and loose sweats, glasses low on his nose, hair constantly ruffled like he just rolled out of bed (which, annoyingly, made him even hotter). His appeal was subtle—nerdy, quiet, maddeningly soft.

So nothing could’ve prepared you for what you walked in on that Wednesday afternoon.

You pushed open the apartment door mid-call, rambling into your phone, “I swear if he left his ramen bowls in the sink again, I’m gonna—”

And then you stopped.

Dead in your tracks.

Sunghoon was in the living room. Not in a hoodie. Not in any sort of baggy fabric, actually. Instead, he was standing in front of the open window, sipping water from a bottle, wearing a black tank top that hugged his toned chest and grey sweatpants that did dangerous things to your attention span.

He looked over when he heard you, and the way his biceps flexed slightly as he twisted the cap back on the bottle had you gripping your phone like a lifeline.

“Oh. Hey,” he said casually, like he wasn’t currently breaking the internet. “You’re home early.”

You blinked. Your phone beeped. You’d accidentally hung up.

“I—yeah.” You were proud you even managed words. “I… am.”

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow as he walked over, towel slung around his neck. He was glistening slightly—post-workout, apparently—and his hair was a little damp.

“I was just finishing a quick workout. Didn’t think you’d be back for another hour,” he said, stepping past you to grab something from the kitchen. “You okay?”

“Yep,” you squeaked, eyes very much not okay as they followed the flex of his back muscles beneath the thin tank top.

He looked like a completely different person. Still nerdy. Still Sunghoon. Just… cursed with forearms now.

You finally tore your gaze away and flopped onto the couch like your soul had left your body. “I’m fine. Totally normal. Regular day. You just—uh—changed your outfit game without warning.”

He smirked as he opened the fridge. “What, the hoodie empire falling apart for you?”

“I just wasn’t expecting…” You gestured vaguely in his direction, cheeks heating. “That.”

Sunghoon leaned against the counter and quirked a brow. “You mean the tank top? Didn’t know it would have such an effect.”

You glared. “It doesn’t.”

He crossed the room slowly, stopping right in front of you. “Your face is red.”

“I’m warm.”

He bent down slightly, his face hovering closer to yours. “You want me to go change back into a hoodie?”

You swallowed. Your hands were very much not behaving, already fisting the hem of his tank like they had a mind of their own. You weren’t even sure when you’d stood up. His scent—clean sweat, citrus, and something entirely him—was clouding your judgment.

“Don’t,” you said quietly, fingers still clutching his shirt.

He looked down at where you were touching him, then back up at you, his voice lower. “You sure?”

That line—the one you two danced around for months—was right there. So close. So fragile.

You looked up at him, heart racing. “No. But I’m tired of pretending I don’t want to cross it.”

His eyes flickered to your lips, then your hand. And when he leaned in just slightly, the heat between you burned bright and slow, like something inevitable finally unraveling.

-

Since the tank top incident, something changed.

No, scratch that—Sunghoon changed.

The very next day, he emerged from his room wearing another fitted black tee. Not a hoodie. Not even a crewneck. It clung to his chest just enough to make you pause mid-bite of your cereal, spoon hovering in the air like gravity forgot to exist.

You thought it might be a one-time thing, but the days kept coming—and so did the outfits. Sunghoon in slim joggers, Sunghoon in soft, clingy tees that rolled up just slightly at the arms, Sunghoon walking around the kitchen post-shower with a towel slung around his shoulders and that same tank top clinging to his skin like it had no shame.

He was weaponizing himself. There was no other explanation.

And worse? He knew.

“Laundry day?” you asked innocently one morning, nodding toward the fitted navy tee he wore as he poured coffee into two mugs.

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, setting a mug in front of you. “Nope. Just thought I’d mix it up. You don’t mind, do you?”

You took the mug and muttered, “Not even a little bit.”

He chuckled, brushing past you to grab something from the fridge, his hand grazing your waist in that way he did sometimes—just long enough to leave sparks behind.

It kept happening. His touches were still subtle—always plausible, never overt—but now they lingered. His hand on your back as you reached for a mug. Fingers brushing yours when you both reached for the remote. His knee pressed against yours on the couch and never moving away.

And you? You were slowly unraveling.

That Sunday night, it nearly broke you.

You came out of your room, sleepy and disoriented, in search of water. The apartment was dim, quiet, save for the soft hum of music from the living room.

And there he was.

Sunghoon, sitting on the floor in front of the couch, wearing a white tank top and black sweatpants, hair slightly damp, fingers tapping lazily on his laptop.

You paused in the doorway like some unprepared victim in a slow-burn romcom.

He looked up and saw you. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“Mmhm,” you managed, forcing your legs to move. You grabbed a glass of water, hoping the cold would slap some sense back into you.

“C’mere,” he said suddenly.

You blinked. “Why?”

He patted the floor beside him. “Just sit. You look like you’re one hoodie away from losing it.”

You hesitated, then walked over and lowered yourself beside him. Close enough that your thighs touched. Of course.

“You’re doing it on purpose,” you muttered.

He didn’t look away from his screen. “Doing what?”

“This.” You gestured at him with a wave of your hand. “The… arms. The fitted shirts. The lack of hoodies. I’m barely hanging on here, and you’re out here being a thirst trap with glasses.”

Sunghoon let out a soft laugh—quiet, amused. He finally looked at you, and his eyes were dangerous in the low light.

“You’re the one who kept stealing my hoodies,” he murmured, voice low and full of teasing. “I figured I’d give you something else to lose your mind over.”

You stared at him. “So you admit it.”

“Oh, I knew exactly what I was doing.”

Your heart was in your throat now, pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it. “And now?”

He tilted his head slightly, gaze flicking to your lips. “Still doing it.”

You should’ve kissed him. Should’ve dragged him down onto the floor and ruined the tension once and for all. But instead, you just exhaled, shaky, and leaned your head against his shoulder.

He didn’t move. Just let you rest there, warm and solid.

And the line between you both?

Still unbroken. But trembling.

-

You decided it was time for revenge.

If Park Sunghoon was going to spend his days parading around in tank tops and fitted clothes like he didn’t know what he was doing to your sanity, then fine. Two could play this game.

So that’s how you found yourself in the living room on Saturday morning, casually stretching on the yoga mat in the center of the room—wearing nothing but one of his hoodies (slightly cropped from how you’d tucked it up) and tight Calvin Klein bike shorts that hugged you like a second skin.

You didn’t acknowledge his presence at first. Just stretched with exaggerated slowness, arms over your head as the hoodie rose—high enough to show off the sliver of your waist and the underside of your chest with every movement.

You knew he was watching. He was always up by now, usually making his precious pour-over coffee in the kitchen. And sure enough, you heard it—the shift of the kettle, the sudden clatter of a spoon, and then silence.

You smirked to yourself as you leaned forward in a deep stretch, back arching just slightly, your position giving him a full view of your curves.

“Didn’t know you were up,” you said sweetly, still not turning around.

“I—I wasn’t,” came his voice from behind you. Rough. Caught off guard. Like he’d swallowed air wrong. “I mean—I just woke up.”

You slowly straightened, finally glancing over your shoulder.

“Oh?” you blinked innocently, lips curling. “Hope I didn’t distract you.”

Sunghoon was standing by the counter, coffee mug forgotten in his hand, his gaze locked on you like you were an equation he couldn’t solve.

His hoodie on you was driving him insane—you could see it in the way his jaw ticked, in the way his eyes trailed down to your exposed waist and back up with a slow drag.

“New shorts?” he asked, voice notably lower.

You stretched your arms above your head again, feigning a yawn. “Mmhm. Comfortable, right?”

“They look…” He cleared his throat. “Tight.”

You smiled. “Flattering, you mean?”

He stepped closer, slowly, like his body was moving without permission.

“You know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you?” he murmured.

You turned fully to face him now, still sitting on your knees, hoodie slipping off one shoulder. “I’m just stretching, Sunghoon.”

He stared at you, and something flickered in his eyes—like he was this close to crossing that line you’d both danced around for months.

Then he leaned down, just slightly, meeting your gaze head-on.

“If I lose my mind,” he whispered, “just know it’s your fault.”

You tilted your head, heart thundering in your chest. “Who says you haven’t already?”

The tension was electric, heavy in the space between your lips.

But then, like always, it hovered. Close enough to taste—but not enough to break.

Not yet

Sunghoon exhaled, straightened, and turned back to his coffee like nothing happened.

And you?

You grinned, wicked and satisfied.

Game on.

-

It was late. Past midnight. The kind of quiet that only happened when the city slept and the apartment dimmed into that safe cocoon of shadows and soft hums.

You hadn’t meant to test fate tonight. You were just thirsty, literally. Woke up parched and wandered into the kitchen half-asleep, wearing one of Sunghoon’s zip-up hoodies. No shorts. No bra. Just that oversized hoodie zipped halfway, loose and dangerously low from tossing and turning in bed.

You were barefoot. Hair messy. Eyes squinting at the fridge light as you grabbed a bottle of water and twisted the cap off.

You didn’t notice him at first.

But he noticed you.

Sunghoon stood frozen by the hallway, bathed in low light, eyes glued to you like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. And maybe he couldn’t. Because the zipper of his hoodie had slipped just a little lower—low enough to reveal the swell of your bare chest, the delicate dip of your waist, your skin glowing under the fridge’s light like you were meant to be seen in that moment.

You turned, bottle at your lips, and jumped when you saw him.

“Shit—you scared me,” you laughed softly, not thinking, not realizing what you looked like yet.

But Sunghoon didn’t laugh.

He just stared.

His voice came low. Tense.

“You’re not wearing anything under that, are you?”

You blinked. Finally glanced down.

Oh.

Oh.

Your heart skipped. “I—I wasn’t thinking. I just came out for water, I didn’t think anyone was—”

He stepped closer.

Each step slow. Controlled. Like he was trying to hold something back and losing the battle by the second.

“You’ve been teasing me for months,” he said, voice rough, his eyes never leaving yours. “Wearing my hoodies. Stealing my space. Touching me like you know I want more.”

You swallowed hard, your fingers tightening on the bottle. “Sunghoon—”

“You come out here,” he went on, “dressed like that… at midnight… looking like that—and you still expect me to stay quiet?”

You stepped back instinctively, but you hit the counter.

He kept walking.

Now he was right in front of you, towering, chest rising and falling fast. One hand braced against the counter beside your waist, the other hovering just an inch from the zipper hanging so precariously low on your chest.

“You have no idea what you do to me, do you?”

“I think I do now,” you whispered, breath shallow.

His fingers finally touched the zipper. Tugged it just enough for your breath to hitch. Not fully unzipping—just a threat. Just a taste of the danger you’d both tiptoed around for too long.

“Tell me to stop,” he said, voice barely more than a growl.

But you didn’t.

You tilted your chin, met his gaze, and whispered, “Don’t you dare.”

That was it.

The line you drew? Gone.

He crashed into you like the tension had been a match waiting for a spark—hands gripping your waist, mouth capturing yours in a kiss that was months in the making. Hot. Desperate. Hungry.

And you kissed him back like you’d been holding your breath for this exact moment.

The hoodie slipped.

The water bottle hit the floor.

And Sunghoon?

Sunghoon finally stopped pretending.

Your back hit the kitchen counter with a soft thud, the cool surface contrasting the fire suddenly burning under your skin.

Sunghoon’s hands were on your waist, sliding under the hoodie like he’d been dying to touch you. His mouth was still on yours, tongue teasing, devouring every gasp and moan that spilled from your lips like he needed them to breathe.

And then—he pulled back just a little.

His eyes dropped to the hoodie, to the way it barely clung to your shoulders, your chest rising and falling rapidly beneath it. His fingers caught the zipper again, this time pulling it all the way down.

The fabric parted.

His breath hitched.

“No bra,” he muttered, almost to himself, voice husky and ragged.

You watched the way his eyes darkened—like something snapped completely inside him.

He dipped his head instantly, lips ghosting down your throat. “You’re so unfair,” he groaned, mouth brushing your collarbone. “You know I have a thing for boobs.”

You gasped out a breathy laugh, hand tangling in his hair. “I didn’t, actually.”

“Well,” he murmured, kissing down the swell of your chest, “you do now.”

And then his mouth was there—hot and open and obsessed, worshipping every inch he could reach. His hands cupped you, thumbs brushing gently, then firmly, then teasing—his lips trailing lazy, wet kisses across your skin like he’d been starved and this was his first meal.

You moaned, soft and high, hips shifting against the counter as he sucked lightly at a sensitive spot. His fingers gripped your thighs, dragging you closer, so your knees spread around his hips and you were fully pinned, fully his.

“God, Sunghoon,” you whispered, breathless.

He looked up at you from your chest, eyes blown wide, lips red and swollen.

“You don’t get it,” he said, voice low and wrecked. “I’ve been dying to do this since the first time you walked out of your room in my clothes. You were always just... there, tempting me, touching me, looking at me like that.”

You swallowed hard, your hands now sliding under his shirt, tracing the hard lines of his torso. “Then why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“Because I didn’t want to cross the line,” he said, kissing you again—deep, slow, possessive. “But baby… you broke it first.”

His lips were back on your chest before you could respond, sucking and kissing like he was making up for lost time, like he wanted to memorize every curve, every sound you made. The hoodie slipped off your shoulders entirely now, pooling behind you on the counter.

And he made no move to stop.

Not when your head fell back.

Not when your thighs tightened around his waist.

Not when you whimpered his name, and he groaned like it was the only thing he wanted to hear for the rest of his life.

Sunghoon’s mouth was obsessed—hungry, slow, and dangerously focused.

He pressed open-mouthed kisses across your chest, dragging his tongue deliberately over the soft swell of your breast before closing his lips around your nipple. He groaned at the contact, deep and guttural, like he’d finally gotten the one thing he’d been fantasizing about for months.

“Fuck, I knew they’d feel this good,” he muttered between kisses, hand splaying over your waist to keep you close. “I think about them way too much.”

You gasped, arching your back as his tongue flicked and swirled, switching sides with a low, satisfied sound. His hand moved to cup your other breast, thumb brushing over the peak, and when he sucked again—harder this time—you nearly lost it.

“S-Sunghoon—”

“I’m not stopping,” he mumbled against your skin. “Not when you look like this… sound like that.”

He licked back up the valley between your breasts, teeth grazing lightly. “You wore this hoodie knowing I’d see you, didn’t you?”

You didn’t answer—couldn’t, not when his mouth was doing sinful things to you.

He chuckled darkly. “No bra. Just this. Like you wanted me to snap.”

And then, without warning, his hands were under your thighs—lifting you off the counter like you weighed nothing.

You gasped and instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, hoodie falling completely off in the motion. His grip tightened under you, fingers digging into your skin as he walked you down the hall, kissing your neck, your jaw, your collarbone with reckless affection.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he whispered against your ear. “No more teasing. No more pretending.”

He kicked the bedroom door open with his foot, not bothering to turn on the lights, letting the soft glow from the hallway bathe you both in shadow.

The second your back hit the bed, he was over you again—pressing hot kisses down your chest, your ribs, your stomach.

Your hands were in his hair, tugging, anchoring yourself as his lips found your breast again, sucking harder this time. His hips rolled against yours with just enough friction to make you whimper his name.

“I love these,” he murmured like a confession, voice low and rough as he licked across your nipple. “I could spend hoursright here.”

You arched under him, heat pooling deep in your core. “Then do it,” you whispered, eyes wild and breathless.

He looked up at you through his lashes, smirk tugging at the corner of his kiss-swollen lips.

“Say less.”

And he did.

He kissed his way down, took his time, made sure every inch of you knew just how badly he’d wanted this. Every flick of his tongue, every bite, every graze of his teeth was slow and sinful and filled with months of held-back tension that was now unraveling between the sheets.

Your breaths turned to moans.

Moans to gasps.

And gasps into pleas.

By the time he finally stripped you bare and joined you in the sheets, it wasn’t just about want—it was about need. About all the nights you brushed hands in the kitchen, the mornings you wore his hoodies, the way his eyes always lingered just a second too long.

He took his time, but when he moved inside you for the first time, slow and deep, both of you lost all words—just soft curses, broken kisses, and the kind of moans that only came from finally, finally giving in.

And still, even in the heat of it all—his hands found their way back to your chest, mouth pressing against your skin like he was claiming it.

“Mine,” he breathed against your skin. “All fucking mine.”

The sheets were tangled around your legs, your skin warm and slick, heart still racing from the first time. You lay there in the dark, chest rising and falling fast, trying to catch your breath—trying to process what just happened.

But Sunghoon… he didn’t move much.

He hovered just above you, gaze roaming over your flushed face, your swollen lips, your body stretched beneath him like a dream. His hand was on your waist, thumb brushing slow circles into your skin, but his eyes kept dipping back down to your chest—still heaving, glistening faintly with sweat.

“You okay?” he asked softly, a slight rasp in his voice.

You nodded, breathless. “Yeah. Very okay.”

He smiled, just a little, but it didn’t reach his eyes—not because he wasn’t happy, but because the look on his face said something else entirely:

He wasn’t done.

Not even close.

His fingers slid up your waist, brushing between the valley of your breasts before he leaned down again, placing a kiss just above your sternum.

You sighed softly, running your fingers through his hair.

“I told you,” he murmured, mouth trailing down again. “I’m not over these.”

He kissed one breast, then the other—soft, slow, reverent.

“You’ve already had your fun,” you teased, voice low.

He looked up at you, eyes dark. “Yeah. Once. That’s not enough.”

Before you could respond, he wrapped his lips around your nipple again, sucking gently—then deeper, hungrier—until your back arched right off the bed and a soft cry slipped from your mouth.

Your thighs instinctively pressed together.

He smirked against your skin.

“Still sensitive?” he asked, fingers ghosting down your hips.

You barely managed a nod. “Yes. But also… don’t stop.”

He didn’t.

His hand slipped between your legs, fingers teasing, already finding you wet again—still soaked for him. He groaned low in his throat.

“Fuck. You’re unreal.”

You whimpered when his fingers dipped inside you, slow and precise, the pads of them curling just right while his mouth stayed fixed on your chest—licking, sucking, marking you.

You were already unraveling again, body twitching under his touch.

“Sunghoon,” you gasped, hips lifting to meet every movement. “Please—”

He kissed up to your neck, whispering against your ear. “You want me again?”

“God, yes.”

He kissed your jaw. “Then get on top.”

You blinked. “What?”

“I want to see you,” he murmured. “Wanna see those pretty tits bounce while I’m inside you.”

Your breath caught. You scrambled to climb over him, straddling his waist, your hands braced against his chest as he looked up at you like you were a fucking goddess.

His hands slid up your thighs, settling at your hips before he guided you down slowly—inch by inch—until he was fully inside you again.

The both of you gasped.

You rocked your hips once—experimentally—and his head fell back against the pillows, jaw clenched.

“Just like that,” he groaned. “Keep going. Fuck, ride me, baby.”

You did.

You moved with him, chasing that dizzy, desperate high all over again, and he watched everything—his hands never leaving your waist or your breasts, gripping and teasing and obsessing the way he had since the very start.

Every time your hips met his, you felt yourself melt further—into the heat, into the rhythm, into him.

And when you came again, clenched around him with a cry of his name, he followed soon after—hands gripping your ass, thrusting up deep one last time as he spilled into you with a shudder and a curse.

You collapsed against his chest, both of you shaking, breathless, spent.

His arms wrapped around you instantly, holding you tight, still inside you, still warm and pulsing and wrecked.

Neither of you spoke for a while.

But when you finally looked up at him, messy hair in your face, cheeks flushed—

He just smirked and whispered, “Still stealing my hoodies after this?”

You smiled, slow and sweet. “Every single one.”

Your legs still trembled, curled over his hips, when Sunghoon gently kissed your temple.

“You did so good,” he murmured into your hair, voice worn raw and honey-sweet. “But I think you need a bath, baby.”

You groaned something incoherent against his shoulder. “I need new legs.”

He chuckled, low and breathless, then slid his arms under you again. Without warning, he stood—effortlessly lifting you bridal-style, your bare body pressed against his chest, the hoodie still tangled somewhere in the sheets.

“Sunghoon—” you squeaked.

“Shh,” he whispered, kissing your forehead as he padded toward the bathroom. “I’ve got you.”

The bathroom lights were dim—just the warm ambient glow of the under-counter lighting—and the air was already humid by the time he knelt by the tub, one arm still keeping you close while the other twisted the knobs.

Warm water started to fill the space, steam curling up like the start of something sacred.

He set you on the edge of the tub gently and leaned over to pour in something from a bottle—lavender and vanilla, by the smell—and you just sat there watching him, dazed and still pulsing between your legs.

Sunghoon looked up at you from under his lashes, hair messy and lips swollen. “You okay?”

You nodded, still breathless. “You’re… ridiculous.”

He smirked. “You’ve said that twice now.”

“I mean it more this time.”

When the tub was full, he helped you in first, easing your body into the water, then slid in behind you, pulling you back against his chest. His hands roamed lazily—down your arms, around your waist, fingers playing just beneath the surface.

And then his lips pressed to your shoulder.

You tilted your head slightly. “You’re not gonna let me relax, are you?”

He nipped gently at your neck. “I was trying to. You’re the one pressing that pretty ass against me.”

You grinned, hips shifting just enough to hear him hiss.

“Okay,” he growled, arms tightening around your waist. “That’s it.”

He turned you gently in the water until you were facing him, your thighs straddling his lap again beneath the surface. The heat of the water mixed with the slow burn returning in your gut. His chest glistened, wet and warm under your hands.

You dragged your palms up his torso slowly, admiring the cut of his collarbone, the sharp lines of his pecs. Then, without warning, you leaned down and pressed your lips just above his heart.

Sunghoon inhaled sharply.

Your teeth grazed him lightly, followed by your tongue, and then your mouth again—sucking just hard enough to leave a mark.

He groaned, head falling back against the edge of the tub. “Fuck.”

You licked across the red blotch, then moved a few inches over and did it again. His fingers gripped your hips beneath the water now, holding you in place, twitching slightly with every kiss you left on his chest.

“You like when I mark you up, don’t you?” you whispered.

“Yeah,” he rasped. “You have no idea how hot that is.”

You kissed lower, right over his sternum. “Wanna be covered in them?”

His breath hitched. “Only if I get to return the favor.”

You looked up at him through your lashes, eyes wicked. “Then you better sit still.”

You kept going—slow, open-mouthed kisses that turned into suckling marks across his chest, down the dip of his abs, making sure every moan he gave you echoed off the tiled walls.

And when you finally shifted your hips and sank down onto him again—warm, wet, slick from water and need—he nearly lost it.

“God, you feel even tighter like this,” he groaned, head falling forward, forehead resting against yours.

Water sloshed over the sides of the tub as you rode him again—slow this time, deliberately teasing, your hands braced on his shoulders as you whispered sinful little things into his ear and left even more hickeys along his collarbones.

You were in no rush.

You both dragged it out—bodies tangled under the water, teeth grazing skin, low moans bouncing off the foggy mirrors—until he gripped your ass and came with a deep, guttural sound, burying his face into your shoulder.

You followed with a soft gasp, body trembling for the third time, mouth pressed to his neck as your nails dug into his back.

For a long moment, neither of you moved.

You just sat there, still connected, chests rising and falling together, bathwater lukewarm and covered in steam.

Then Sunghoon kissed your cheek and whispered, hoarse and completely blissed out, “You’re never getting this hoodie back.”

The water had cooled enough to make you both shiver a little. Sunghoon noticed first, of course. He always did.

“Okay,” he murmured against your temple. “Up you go, pretty girl.”

You were barely responsive, dazed and boneless in his lap, but you let out a tiny hum as he helped you stand, the water cascading down both your bodies.

He stepped out after you and grabbed one of the oversized towels from the rack. Without a word, he wrapped it around your body from behind, tucking the edges carefully under your arms before pulling you into his chest, your back flush against his warmth.

You felt his lips press to your shoulder, featherlight.

“I should probably dry you off,” he said softly. “But I just wanna hold you for a minute.”

You melted into him instantly, eyes fluttering closed, head resting against his collarbone. “Mmm. You smell good.”

He laughed under his breath. “You smell like me. That’s my body wash.”

“And your hoodie.”

“Exactly. You’re basically mine now.”

You turned your head slightly, meeting his eyes. “Basically?”

His grip on your waist tightened, just enough to make you feel it.

“Unless you’ve got a reason not to be,” he said, voice low, sincere.

You didn’t answer him right away—not with words. You turned around in his arms and wrapped your own around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. Not frantic this time. Just soft and warm and unhurried, your lips moving with his like they already belonged there.

When you finally pulled back, you whispered, “No reason.”

That made him smile—wide and genuine. “Good.”

He reached for another towel and gently ran it over your legs, your arms, drying you with care. When he reached your chest, he hesitated—smirked—and kissed the bruised skin reverently before patting it dry.

“Still my favorite part,” he mumbled.

“Such a menace.”

Once you were dry, he carried you—again—to the bed, laying you down gently. He tugged on a soft sleep shirt and boxers for himself, then rummaged around until he found a clean hoodie.

He paused.

“You wanna wear this?” he asked, holding it up.

You sat up on your elbows. “Thought you said I wasn’t getting your hoodies anymore.”

“I lied. You can have all of them.”

He pulled it over your head, helping you into it like you were made of glass, then kissed your forehead before climbing in beside you and tugging you against his chest.

It was quiet for a while, the kind of silence that felt full instead of empty.

His fingers traced slow lines down your spine beneath the hoodie. “You tired?”

You nodded, mumbling into his neck. “A little.”

“Wanna sleep?”

You shrugged. “Kind of.”

He shifted slightly, his thigh slipping between yours, his hand settling low on your waist—dangerously close to temptation again.

You tilted your head and whispered, “Sunghoon?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way…”

He tensed a little, worried. “What?”

You grinned sleepily. “But I’m definitely stealing another hoodie tomorrow.”

He laughed, pulling you in closer until your leg was hooked around his hip and your bodies pressed flush again.

“I’ll just take my revenge in the morning,” he murmured against your skin.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. Round four, babe. You better stretch.”

You woke up to the feel of warmth—heavy, solid, draped entirely around you.

Sunghoon’s chest was pressed to your back, one arm tucked under your neck like a pillow, the other curled tightly around your waist. His hoodie was oversized on you, but your bare legs were tangled with his beneath the sheets, and you were acutely aware of something hard nudging against the curve of your ass.

You blinked slowly, a lazy smile tugging at your lips.

“Sunghoon,” you murmured sleepily.

He groaned low in his throat, face buried in your hair. “Mmnn?”

“Are you…?”

Another sleepy shift. The thick press of him grinding instinctively against your backside made your breath hitch. You froze, and he stilled too.

“Shit,” he muttered, voice hoarse with sleep. “Sorry—morning wood. Can’t help it.”

You smirked. “I’m not exactly complaining.”

He laughed quietly, but you felt his hips rock against you again, slower this time, deliberate. “You sure?”

“Positive.”

His lips brushed the back of your neck. “You’re evil. You know that, right?”

You rolled your hips just slightly, teasing, letting the hem of his hoodie ride up your thighs as you pressed back into him.

“Me?” you whispered, feigning innocence. “I’m just trying to get comfortable.”

Sunghoon growled softly and rolled you onto your back, slipping between your legs in one fluid motion. The bulge in his boxers pressed right against your center now, only the thin fabric separating you.

“You’re really gonna keep playing in my hoodie, no panties,” he said, eyes dark with hunger, “and act like you didn’t know what you were doing?”

You looked up at him through heavy lashes, lips parted. “I just like how it smells.”

His jaw clenched, and the way his hips bucked forward told you everything.

“Yeah?” he rasped, leaning in close, lips brushing yours. “You like how I smell?”

You nodded, one hand slipping beneath the hem of the hoodie to palm at his lower abs. “You smell like sex. Like me.”

His breath hitched.

You slid your fingers beneath the waistband of his boxers, wrapping around him slowly. He was hot, hard, twitching against your palm.

“Baby…” he warned.

But you stroked him gently, thumb brushing his tip.

“Come on,” you whispered. “Since you’re already awake…”

He didn’t need any more convincing.

With one hand, he pulled his boxers down just enough. The other hand slid your hoodie up to your waist, revealing the soaked mess between your thighs.

“Look at you,” he muttered, eyes fixated. “Wet already, just from waking up next to me.”

You smirked. “You’re not exactly subtle with that thing pressed against me all night.”

He pressed the head of his cock to your entrance, slowly easing in. You both gasped—your body already welcoming him, warm and wet and soft around him.

His hands slid under your thighs, pushing them up, pressing your knees to your chest so he could sink deeper. The stretch was dizzying.

“Fuck, baby—” he whispered, biting his lip. “You feel unreal like this.”

Your nails scraped at his back, your head falling back against the pillows as he rocked into you with lazy, morning hunger. Deep, slow strokes. No rush. Just the steady rhythm of his body pushing into yours, skin slapping softly, lips finding each other in between gasps.

“You always gonna wake me up like this?” he asked, voice ragged.

You grinned, tugging him closer. “Only if you keep wearing those boxers.”

His laugh turned into a groan as he thrust harder, lips brushing your cheek, your jaw, your mouth again—his hips relentless now, chasing that high you both knew was coming quick.

You moaned into his neck, legs wrapping around his waist.

And when you came—again—Sunghoon held you through it, kissing you like he couldn’t get enough, like you were still wearing his hoodie and nothing else for the rest of his life.

Because maybe you would.

You sat across from him at the little breakfast table, legs tucked under you, hoodie still slipping off one shoulder. Sunghoon had his fork in his hand, but his eyes were not—absolutely not—on the eggs.

They were on you.

Specifically, the way his hoodie dipped low across your chest every time you leaned forward to take a bite.

You bit into your toast slowly, watching his gaze drop. Again.

And then smirked. “You’re staring.”

He didn’t even try to deny it. “You’re teasing.”

You feigned innocence, licking a crumb off your lower lip. “I’m just eating breakfast.”

He tilted his head, squinting at you. “You know exactly what you’re doing.”

You leaned forward on your elbows just a little more—enough that the neckline of the hoodie dipped a few extra inches, revealing the bare curve underneath.

“What, this?” you said, blinking up at him sweetly. “The hoodie rides low. Not my fault.”

Sunghoon visibly swallowed, dropping his fork. “Babe…”

You tilted your head. “What?”

“You’re gonna kill me.”

You pretended to think. “Or maybe I’m just making it fair. You parade around in that tank top for two days and I can’t even exist in a hoodie without you getting handsy.”

He groaned. “That’s different.”

“Is it?”

“You’ve got your boobs out.”

You gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to your chest. “I do not—they’re just slightly visible.”

“Slightly? I can see half the damn thing.”

You giggled and reached for your coffee, watching him glare at the mug like it personally offended him by hiding your cleavage.

“You really have a thing for them, huh?” you teased.

He didn’t even blink. “I admitted that last night. Several times.”

You raised a brow. “And during the bath.”

He smirked, leaning back in his chair with a lazy grin. “And yet I still haven’t gotten enough.”

You licked your spoon slowly. “Poor baby.”

His eyes narrowed. “You’re enjoying this.”

“A little.”

He pushed his plate aside, the muscles in his jaw tightening as he stood up and walked over to your side of the table.

You blinked up at him, all feigned innocence again. “What are you doing?”

He leaned down, both hands on the arms of your chair, trapping you.

“Letting you know,” he whispered, eyes dropping to the neckline of your hoodie again, “that if you keep teasing me like this, you’re not gonna finish that coffee.”

You raised your chin. “Bold of you to assume I wanted to.”

He huffed out a laugh, biting his lip. “You’re evil.”

You tugged on the front of the hoodie, dipping the zipper just a little lower. “And you’re obsessed.”

“Completely.”

Then he dipped down, and for a second you thought he was going to kiss you again—but instead, he buried his face between your boobs, groaning dramatically like a man who’d gone to heaven and back.

“Unbelievable,” you said, laughing breathlessly.

“Your fault,” he mumbled against your chest.

“You’re literally addicted.”

“I’d cancel all my meetings for this.”

You rolled your eyes, running your fingers through his hair. “One day, you’re gonna have to learn to behave.”

He tilted his head back just enough to smirk up at you, still nestled between your boobs.

“And one day,” he murmured, “you’re gonna have to accept that I never will.”

©️tobiosbbyghorl - all rights reserved

permanent taglist: @ijustwannareadstuff20 @hoonielvv @rjssierjrie @firstclassjaylee @morganaawriterr @rikifever @daisyintherainsposts @kkamismom12

[xespa]

AFTERGLOW ✶ HUH YUNJIN 🍒

⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𝖥𝖤𝖠𝖳𝖴𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦 huh yunjin x f!reader ⋅ 𝖶𝖮𝖱𝖣 𝖢𝖮𝖴𝖭𝖳 1,967 words ⋅ 𝖦𝖤𝖭𝖱𝖤/𝖳𝖠𝖦𝖲 sub!reader, roommates au, soft dom!yunjin, fluff, explicit smut

𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲 ⟳ alcohol consumption, both reader and yunjin are bisexual, small mention of “slut-shaming” (not from yunjin tho), yunjin is WHIPPED, overstim, fingering, oral (f. rec), multiple orgasms, spanking

“It’s like…everyone’s so fucking boring nowadays.” Yunjin rambles on as she takes another sip of her wine. “I just can’t find the right one that matches my vibe.”

You nod, “I feel. Literally everyone I talk to is lame as hell, they always rather stay in and watch movies than go on an actual date, which is fine sometimes…but all the time? Hard pass.”

It’s 2 am on a saturday night and neither of you had anything to do, you proposed going out clubbing but Yunjin wasn’t in the mood for that kind of night. She was more of a laid-back, chill type of girl while you were always out late partying and coming home with someone new every weekend. It’s not like Yunjin didn’t have guys (or girls) over either, she was just more discreet about it and made sure you were gone whenever she brought anyone over. She felt like she wouldn’t be able to face you again if you ever heard what she was doing.

“That’s ‘cause they’re just trying to fuck, oldest trick in the book y/n.” Yunjin chuckles as you lightly smack her arm. “What— it’s the truth! Anyone with eyes would wanna get in your pants.”

Well, maybe that explains why you’re always getting texts at 2-3 am asking to “come chill” even though you know how it’s going to end and you fall for it every. single. time. Maybe that’s why your last hookup called you “for the team” to all his friends, you fucked on the first “date” but only because he showed you cute pics of animals he rescued (curse you for being such a softie). But generally, it didn’t take much for you to want to sleep with someone because you had sexual needs just like everyone else, except you were a girl and that wasn’t very “ladylike” of you. That didn’t stop you from actively seeking potential sex partners though.

“Ugh, don’t say that! I’m just more of a lowkey person.. I don’t mind netflix dates but damn, ya girl could really use some wining and dining once in a while.” You express frustratedly. It’s been a while since you’ve been taken somewhere nice and the thought of someone planning a cute outing together made you yearn for a relationship even more.

Yunjin’s brows lift in confusion, “do I not already do that for you every day?”

She’s constantly cooking for you, soon as you wake up breakfast is made with your favorite—pancakes and fluffy scrambled eggs! She’d also cook you dinner once you got home from an exhausting day of work, she was the perfect roommate you could’ve ever stumbled upon.

“You do— but that’s different..” Your voice trails off, thinking of any excuse as to why but you couldn’t put a finger on it.

“How? Am I only your maid that cooks and cleans for you? Not worthy of anything else?” She pouts dramatically, of course she’d get offended by something so little.

“Yunnie don’t do this right now, you know I appreciate you and your sweet gestures all the time.” Sighing as you sink further into the couch, you decide to spill more about your not so eventful sex life.

“It seems like most guys only care about getting their nut then dipping, I barely finish if it at all after..” You realize how embarrassing that sounds to admit but you had to confess this to someone, you don’t even know why you continue to torment yourself with this kind of treatment.

Yunjin shakes her head in disbelief, appalled at the sad truth of your current dilemma. She too however, faced a similar issue at hand. She can’t seem to find anyone that’ll keep up with her crazy high sex drive. “That sounds truly awful, what the fuck? I’d have you on orgasm number five just from my fingers alone.”

Holy shit, did she really just say that? The wine is most definitely getting to her now. The room got real quiet for a second.

“Y-you would?” You ask innocently, batting your lashes at her.

She wanted to retract her statements out of embarrassment but you didn’t look put off by her advances at all, instead intrigued. Her cheeks turned rosier, very unexpected of you to put her on the spot like that but she was the one who opened pandora’s box to begin with. “I mean… yeah? Why wouldn’t I?” She replied, biting her lip as she gauges your reaction to see if what she said was okay. “I’m more of a giver than receiver anyway, I love giving head it’s my specialty. I’d leave you with that afterglow if you let me babe.”

Well now you were going to have to find out, you can’t just let her make such bold claims like that without having the proof to back it up first. You’ve always found your roommate extremely hot but you never tried anything out of respect for her boundaries, she did the same but her urges to make a move on you kept growing as you complained more and more about your past experiences— she wanted to show you how it was really done.

+

Yunjin was determined in making sure you have a great time. Your pretty body splayed under her with your backside facing upward, giving her the view of a lifetime. “Fuck…” she curses under her breath, her digits sinking into your dripping core, greedily taking all of her in. You muffle the sounds of your moans by covering your mouth, you had a habit of doing so since you didn’t want to wake Yunjin whenever she was sleeping while you were getting it on.

“C’mon you don’t gotta be shy babe, be as loud as you want with me.” She husks, giving a spank to your left cheek leaving a visibly red handprint. Hands sliding up the curves of your body, caressing you as she pumps her fingers deeper. “Mmh.. fuck— Yunnie keep going.” whimpering out pathetically as your walls clench around her. She adds another digit to the mix, watching them disappear in your cunt while looking at your perfectly round, plump ass. Never in a million years would she think she’d be doing this to her roommate of all people.

You felt a knot tying in your stomach from the pleasure, grabbing onto the leather couch tightly—feeling yourself getting close already. “Sound so pretty when you moan, don’t stop.” She encourages sweetly, “I’m making you feel good, aren’t I?” Sounded more like a statement rather than a question.

“Y-yes, think I’m gonna cu— oh fuck!” Eyes roll to the back of your head as feel yourself come undone on Yunjin’s fingers, creaming all over them as she continues fingering you, thumb swiping harshly over your clit to help ride out your high. The overstimulation was too much to handle for you, bratty whines escaping your lips as you just couldn’t take anymore.

“On your back now.” She orders, producing another spank to your rear, you squeal from the contact but get up and lye on your back as she told you to do. “Open.” Yunjin groans impatiently for you, slipping in her fingers coated with your milky essence. You suck them off one by one, getting a taste of yourself while looking directly in her eyes. God…you were going to be the death of her.

“Mmm.. so fuckin’ hot babe.” She smirks, planting a soft kiss to your lips to get a taste on your tongue. She needed to have more of you. Kissing down your chin, neck, collarbone, chest, all the day down to your navel—faint blotches of red appear on the bruised skin; creating a beautiful masterpiece on your body. More kisses are pressed into your soaked inner thighs, trailing her lips up to your entrance as she licks her lips before she begins feasting.

“Don’t hold back on me baby, be as rough as you want.” She coos, lowering her head to flatten her tongue, licking a long, slow stripe against your throbbing slit.

“Shit!” You almost cry from how good she feels against you already, bucking your hips into her mouth as she sucks on your puffy bundle of nerves. Eyes looking up at you fiercely while she watches you shake and writhe under her. “So good, so goood. Just like that, don’t stop please!” You continued grinding your core on her face, making a leaky mess all over her. She could care less though, she’ll happily drown in your juices any day.

Her fingers return back inside for extra stimulation but you end up crying out more, the feeling has your head spinning intensely. You don’t know how much more you can possibly take but you firmly pull on her hair for leverage, tightly tugging it not caring if it hurts since she said not to hold back. Her free hand caresses your thigh gently, flicking her tongue rapidly on your clit and lapping up your wetness, you taste like a dream.

“Oh my god…” you mewl slightly above a whisper, you suddenly forgot how to use your voice. Her mouth was making you feel more than amazing, better than anything you’ve felt before. You feel bad for all the guys and girls you fucked in the past because they definitely won’t be getting a call back from you now.

“Taste so sweet baby,” she mutters before shortly going back to what she was doing, “mmmm…” she hums against you and the vibrations leave you shuddering. Another orgasm erupts out of you as you scream her name louder, spasming and shaking under her touch. This time your release squirts out onto her tongue, licking up every drop, even the left over excess on your thighs.

She presses a kiss to your abused clit, lightly dragging a finger over it to rub in circles, making it swell up again. “P-please Yunnie, no more… n-no more.” You whine again and again but she just pretends not to hear you. She’s not going to stop until she’s completely satisfied with the end result. The end result being you looking a total fucked-out mess.

“Shut up. Stop talking.” Her eyes darkened, giving you a menacing glare. You don’t utter another word, you wouldn’t dare test her right now.

She slings your leg over her shoulder and pushes you in closer, teasing your sensitive entrance while curling her fingers inside, she could do this all day if you’d let her. Your breath shortens, digging your nails deeper into her skin from the bliss you feel— you were overly sensitive and felt another one nearing your way. She wasn’t even using her tongue on you anymore, she was just so good with her fingers alone it was enough to have you squirting all over her.

And you did just that, again. “That’s right baby, cum all over my fingers like a good girl.” She praises, feeling the tightness of you wrap around her. Your body was so numb. Panting, moaning, vision getting blurry as you coat her fingers with your cream for the third time in a row. She pulls them out slowly, letting you drip all over the couch, chuckling with endearment of you. It almost didn’t feel real with the way she was making you cum so easily for her. She had a natural talent at this it seems. You felt weightless, as light as air in her touch, a radiant beam of ecstasy lingers within you.

“That was…incredible.” You gush, ruffling her already disheveled hair, “I haven’t felt like this in a really long time.”

Yunjin kept smirking; boy you were in for so much more tonight. “Mm.. just relax pretty, ’m not even close to being done with you yet. Gonna have everyone know who’s my name once we’re finished.”

[emeraldserenade]

Ghosted ~ Joaquín Torres

synopsis: you agreed to go on a blind date set up by a friend, only to be ghosted before he shows up with flowers and the most unusual explanation.

tw: fem!reader, limited use of y/n, reader has a brother, reader's old roommate died in a car accident, barely edited.

fic, ficlet, drabble, request

Guys, I am so sorry for this one. I've been on an angst kick, but at least there's a happy ending!

➽──────────────❥

Dating wasn't the easiest for you, you always seemed to have the worst luck. Which is why you agreed to go on a blind date, your friend swore up and down that this Joaquín was a good person. You wanted to believe her, you really did, but he didn't show up. You texted your friend, blowing her phone up while you stood outside in the spot that she told you he would be meeting you. You were outside the restaurant, watching other couples walk in happy, waiting on Joaquín to show up. You gave up on your friend, she kept telling you to wait a little more, so you texted your brother. Knowing that he would be able to make you feel a little bit better.

You left, not even bothering to get a taxi. You walked home, the click of your heels in tune with the fall of your tears. You ignored the influx of texts from your brother, telling you that some times people just aren't meant to meet.

You barely got into your apartment with the door closed before the first full sob broke through your body. You crumpled to the ground, you were tired of this. You just wanted to be loved, to have someone to come home to. It hasn't been the same since your roommate died, you felt like it was your fault. She wouldn't have been driving that night if you hadn't been out drinking with people, she wouldn't have had to pick you up. And she wouldn't have gotten hit while she was headed to you.

"Hello?" You barely answered your phone in time, your sobs drowning out your ringtone.

"Y/n, I am so sorry," your friend's voice broke through your haze and you sniffled. Your tears slowed and you picked yourself up off the ground, you kicked your shoes off and made your way to your bedroom.

"It's not your fault," you told her, walking into your bathroom to remove your running makeup.

"I just wanted to tell you, he has a reason to not show up, ok? He has your number and address now too, by the way," your friend told you and you dropped the cotton pad you were using to remove your eye shadow.

"What? Why would you give him my address?" You freaked.

"Trust me, ok? Just trust me," she hung up and you sighed, maybe she was just joking. This did seem like her kind of joke, you just continued to remove your makeup.

You left the bathroom, starting the music through your speakers placed around your house. You made your way through your apartment, changing into your pajamas, the shorts and tank top making you feel more comfortable than your dress. You sang along with your music, the comforting sounds of Hadestown making you feel better about the events of the night.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

You were in your kitchen chopping vegetables for dinner when there was a knock on your door, you glanced at your reflection in the mirror by your door when you passed, You grimaced at your red and puffy eyes, but opened the door nonetheless. You paused when you saw a man standing there in a green, grey, and brown suit holding flowers.

"Uh, hi?" You took a good look at his face and cringed when you realized that this was Joaquín, Joaquín Torres, or known as the Falcon.

"Hi, I'm sorry, I had to go on a mission a few days ago and was told I would be back in time. I clearly didn't, I landed only a few minutes ago. I flew here, hence the suit, I hope you don't mind I got your address from your friend and I got you flowers, oh I'll stop talking know," Joaquín stopped his ramble while you stood there in your pajamas with a shocked face.

"Would you like to come in?" You stepped aside and let Joaquín into your apartment. He walked in and took a look around the small part of your apartment he could see, you watched as he took a glance at the assortment of shoes sitting to his right and kicked his off. "I'm sorry, I changed when I got home. I could go change and we could go somewhere if you'd like," you shuffled past him and into your kitchen. You grabbed the knife you were using to chop the carrots when Joaquín walked in.

"What are you making?" He glanced around your kitchen and you looked over at him.

"Oh, fried rice. I have left over white rice from when my friend and I got take out a few days ago and thought it would be a good way to get rid of it," you shrugged, getting ready to put everything away.

"Sounds good, we could stay here. If you want," Joaquín quickly added the last part and you smiled.

"Sure, but aren't you uncomfortable in that?" You gestured to his suit before quickly taking the flowers still in his hand and quickly placing them in a vase.

"I'll be fine," he shrugged it off but you shook your head.

"Are you sure? I'm sure I have some of my brother's old clothes around that might fit you," you offered as you went back to chopping vegetables.

"If you're offering," he said it like he didn't want to intrude but you just shook you head in amusement before he took the knife to chop while you went to collect the clothes.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

You came back to him finishing the chopping and handed him the clothes. "I'm sorry but this is all I could fine, I hope that it's ok," you handed him a pair of grey sweatpants and a t-shirt that now that you took a better look at his physique, might be too small.

"It's perfect, thank you," he took the clothes and you pointed him in the direction of your extra bathroom. He came back a few moments later, his suit folded neatly in his hands. He placed it down on a chair as he watched you move around your kitchen making dinner. You glanced at him and almost dropped the spoon in your hand, the shirt was definitely too small but you couldn't find in in yourself to care. The shirt hugged him perfectly, you should see every curve of his muscles. You quickly looked away and made yourself busy with making dinner.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

Joaquín and you ate as you talked, you made a mental note to tell your friend thank you. The night might not have started the way you wanted, but you couldn't think of a better way to end it. Joaquín left close to midnight, giving you a kiss as he did. Your heart fluttered as you waved as he walked down the hallway and you closed the door. You stood with your back to it for a while before walking away from it. You passed your table but paused when something caught your eye, you walked over and saw he left his suit at your apartment with a note that was clearly written when he was changing since it was on the paper you kept in there just in case.

Now I have a reason to come back, keep it safe for me? - Joaquín Torres

You laughed as your eyes scanned the letter but decided to keep it safe until he came back, whether that was to see you or to get it for a mission. You didn't care, as long as he came back and saw you.

➽──────────────❥

Masterlist | Requests

[aurynsia]

Slim Pickins

James Potter x Reader

——————— ⋆☆ ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

Summary: You pine over your roommate’s friend from school at a party while he’s on a call with his ex…

Warnings: Miscommunication trope, slight hurt -> comfort, James is stuttering like a lovesick FOOL so good luck reading the dialogue, reader is referred to as a girl with she/her pronouns and presents femininely, Marlene being the greatest match maker of all time!

Word Count: 1.1K

Masterlist

A/N: “A boy who’s jacked and kind…”so, James Potter?

——————— ⋆☆ ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

Sitting alone at your roommate’s dinner party, you gazed longingly at the boy who poured a sudden dose of affection into your once-loveless world, a disgruntled frown pressed against your lips.

Only meeting a few weeks ago on a frantic night of music and drinking, Marlene had practically dragged you over to the tall boy with a grand smile spread across his bespectacled face.

You were so enamoured after your first introduction, you completely missed the way the boy - James - leaned tentatively over to Marlene to whisper words of admiration.

“Just like how you described…is it too early to ask for her number? So pretty…” the muttered compliments and queries were drowned out by the blasting music, assisted by your complete lack of self awareness as you pined over the way his hair tickled his neck when he leaned towards your roommate.

You had danced your way through the nerves, guided by the soothing rhythm of pumping bass and new beginnings as you formed a core memory with your roommate and new friends.

Tonight was a different story.

James stumbled around your living room, a few drinks too many compromising his composure as he rambled on the phone to his old girlfriend.

Marlene had told you all about James and Lily, king and queen of their grade, and the sudden end to their relationship after graduation.

While you were relieved to hear the boy was single, you couldn’t help feeling a tinge of jealousy as he rambled on about something excitedly, cheeks blushing and smile only growing wider.

You nursed your drink in your sweaty grasp, feeling the depressing effect of alcohol wash over you like a wave over the Scottish shoreline.

James passed subtle glances towards you, throwing his drink around in his hand as he spoke animatedly down the line to an undoubtedly amused redhead.

Your jealously sparked into unbridled envy, willing yourself to turn back time and dance carefree once again, grinning at the handsome new face as you crossed the dance floor blindly in your memory. You slumped in your seat, allowing your vision to blur as your eyes fell in your intoxicated haze.

——————— ⋆☆ ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

James was all but yelling down the line to his lover-turned-friend, gushing enthusiastically through a permanent smile. “Seriously, she’s so cute! I wish you were here to meet her, I think you’d really get along,” He rambled, glancing in your direction every second moment.

“Yes, Potter, I’m sure we’d form an unbreakable bond over shared experiences of being relentlessly pursued by you,” Lily quipped, voice laced with a lighthearted tease. “Oh, shush. You won’t have to deal with my antics anymore if this lovely girl has anything to do with it. I think I’m gonna ask her out tonight, Lils!”

Lily was the only person in the school-born friend group who moved too far away to attend any of Marlene’s late-night gatherings, only kept in the loop by drunken phone calls from the bustling London apartment.

She meant the world to James as one of his closest friends, so he assured her repeatedly that it was crucial she knew about his obsessive new crush before he made a move. Physical distance couldn’t stop him from updating her on every new development in the capital city, constantly obstructing the peace and quiet of her comforting cottage.

“Well, don’t let me keep you,” Lily sighed in partial satisfaction, but mostly in exhaustion at the late hour of the night. “Go get your girl, Potter.”

With that final encouragement, James passed on hurried farewells before hanging up on the past. Now, his gaze was fixed on his future. His cheeks heated at the sight of your soft face, eyebrows furrowed in drunken fatigue.

With a final breath of courage, he pushed through his chorus of friends, Marlene squeezing his shoulder as he passed in knowing encouragement.

Striding along the path of dirtied plates scattered across your dining table, he finally found comfort in leaning against the wooden surface just in front of your current seat.

——————— ⋆☆ ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

You stirred at the sound of a deep cough - James clearing his throat to gain just a moment of your attention. “Enjoying the party?” he laughed nervously, never one for small talk with a girl he fancied.

Your eyes winced as you forced your best, welcoming smile at the boy. “Yeah, I am, just uh- lost track of my drinking an hour or two ago…” you admitted, forcing your eyes open to meet James’ bashful gaze, feeling almost sinful at the pleasurable warmth that shivers through you at the sight of his golden eyes.

“So, listen- uh…Marls said you were too good for me and I can’t help but agree with her, I mean,” he shifted his weight to balance his drunken nerves, “you’re brilliant. But I promised myself I’d shoot my shot anyway.” He scrambled to sit beside you, abandoning his position against the table as you stared at him in wide-eyed disbelief, blinking in a fluster that successfully woke you from your alcohol-induced slumber.

“So, um…I really, really like you. You’re so bright and- and gorgeous, and I’m really quite obsessed with you,” he rattled with embarrassed laughter, “I thanked Marlene a thousand times over for introducing us, and I just can’t let an opportunity like this - with you - go to waste. So, with this liquid courage…” he shook the drink in his hand, “I was wondering if you’d want to grab dinner some time. With me. Just us.”

You might as well have called for “clean up on aisle your floor” because your jaw wouldn’t be lifted from the wood beneath your feet any time soon.

“I- I mean, yes! Of course! That…that would be great, James, really,” you responded on autopilot after stunned silence, lost in his lovesick gaze as you subconsciously leaned closer to his warmth. James lit up like a lamp at dusk, grinning ear to ear as you inched closer in unexplored yet familiar comfort.

“Brilliant.”

Your roommate and her friends watched on with smiling pride before leaving you to whisper and giggle like school girls sharing meaningless secrets, bathing in the light of blossoming romance over the candlelit remnants of dinner.

——————— ⋆☆ ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

[luvrsinn]

bandaids - hong woo jin x reader 1k words synopsis: you try to impress your new roommate by making him dinner

a/n: i binged this series in literally 3 days and fell in love with woo jin. where all them fics for my bbg at???

When you almost got kicked out of your apartment after the rent nearly doubled, a friend recommended a new place. Cheap, quiet, and an "amazingly chill" roommate. By the time you moved in, you realized only two of those things were true.

The first thing you noticed the day you moved in was the boxing gloves. Hanging from the far end of the wall, they stared back at you like a warning. You were going to kill your friend. In what world is sharing an apartment with a boxer "chill"?

Just as you considered picking up your bags and marching right back down the hallway, you noticed the second thing—a pair of dark brown eyes staring straight at you.

Woo-jin stood near the door to his bedroom, hands stuffed into a faded navy track jacket. His curly hair looked tousled and damp.

"Hey," he said, glancing around you. The room was chaos—food cans, laundry, and clutter scattered everywhere. You gripped the strap on your backpack tighter, looking at him with wide eyes. "You must be the one my landlord talked about. The new roommate."

"Oh—hey. Yeah. That's me. I just came in." You were caught somewhere between the possibility of getting trampled by a gorgeous, 6-foot man and accepting your fate as a homeless person.

"I didn't know you'd be moving in today," he huffed, scratching the back of his neck. "I would've cleaned up a bit."

When you didn't answer, he looked slightly panicked. "I'm not usually this messy, I promise. It's been a busy week." He flailed his arms around, gesturing to the floor.

He suddenly stopped his rambling and flashed you a brilliant smile. "Don't you think it's time for introductions? I'm Woo-Jin." He added, still smiling, "You’ll see—I’m a 10 out of 10 roommate. Eventually."

You looked down at the fist he'd extended to you, and back at him again. He smiled even wider—if that was even possible—and winked.

This was probably a bad idea. But so was living in a cardboard box. So you nodded, set your bags down, and bumped his fist.

It's been a few weeks since you moved in, and it has to be said that Woo-jin is an entertaining person to be around. He's pulled your leg on more than one occasion, but he's also made you feel surprisingly welcome in this new space. Which is exactly why you've been standing in the kitchen for the past fifteen minutes, cutting up pork and onions to make some kimchi-jjigae as a thank you.

It wasn't anything fancy—just some rice, a few side dishes, and the stew. Still, you’d made Woo-jin promise to skip his usual stir-fried pork and come straight home after training.

"Jeez, you're gonna outdo me on this roommate thing," he'd said, shaking his head. "But no worries—as long as it tastes good, I’m reporting for dinner, ma'am," he saluted with a mock-serious face.

You chuckle, remembering the grin he gave you before heading out the door. What a total idiot. Just then, the front door creaks open, followed by the thud of sneakers hitting the floor. You sigh and glance at the rice cooling down on the stove. He wasn't supposed to come back this early—you had only just started the stew.

“Shit,” you hiss, jerking your hand back. You look down to see blood welling up from your finger and grab the nearest paper towel, pressing it down just in time.

"Guess whose amazing roommate just came back from a training session? That's right—woah, what happened here?" he stops in his tracks, staring at the paper towel you're pressing awkwardly to your hand.

You try to play it cool. "Oh, it's nothing. Just a minor slip." You lift the tissue like it’s no big deal, but the way the red's seeping through betrays you.

"That does not look like nothing," he raises one of his eyebrows and chuckles. "Sit down, clumsy. I'm gonna get you a band-aid."

"Really, it's fine-"

"Sit," he repeats, already walking toward the small cabinet near the fridge. "You're dangerous with a knife, you know that?" he mutters, half amused, half concerned.

This is stupid. He's the one getting punched for a living, and here you are, having him play nurse for you because you lost a fight with an onion. You clear your throat. "Do we even have band-aids?" you ask, trying to shift the topic to something else.

He looks at you over his shoulder and scoffs, "Of course we have band-aids. You live with a boxer now. That's basic survival prep."

You roll your eyes but give in anyway, dropping into a stool near you. He walks over to you with the kit and pops it on the counter. "Alright, let's see the damage,” he says, taking out some antiseptic.

You hesitate. "There's blood," you say looking at him like this statement will drive him away. He quirks a brow. “You think I’ve never seen blood? I just got punched in the nose twenty minutes ago.”

Woo-jin smiles triumphantly when you sigh and stretch your hand out. He takes it very gently. His fingers are calloused but warm, dabbing at your skin with antiseptic. You wince.

"Sorry," he cringes, looking up at your face. His fingers move more carefully now. He aligns the band-aid perfectly with the cut, his face bending close to your hand, brown hair catching the twilight rays from the kitchen window.

His thumb brushes your skin as he smooths the band-aid down, and for a second, his hand pauses. He has done this a hundred times—bandaging teammates, patching up his own busted knuckles—but this feels oddly different. He tells himself it’s just the lighting. Or maybe he's just tired from training so hard.

He clears his throat, pulling back and turning to put the kit away. You flex your fingers a little, testing the bandage. "Thanks," you say, a little quieter than you'd meant to. He glances back at you with a crooked smile.

“Anytime,” he says, giving you a mock bow. “But next time you try to impress me with pork stew, maybe don’t lose a finger.” You snort, and the weird tension lifts a little.

“Noted,” you say. “Next time, I’ll just order takeout.”

[seongwars]

bitter

Word Count: 1087 Warnings: none, just one suggestive line, not proofread Summary: you didn't think it'd be the last time you'd see him.

a/n: another drabble from my non-canon WW2 au based on this other drabble. I'm a DAA wife. it's not super angsty, I just had to get it out of my system

“Do you have to go?”

You fiddled with the lapel of Caleb’s uniform, trying to keep your hands steady as he stood tall in his uniform, the determination in his eyes dimmed only by the shadow of leaving you behind. 

Loved ones crowded the airfield, exchanging tearful goodbyes but all that mattered in that moment was your fiance leaving for war. 

“I’ll be back before you know it.”

The words felt rehearsed, the same ones he had said the night before during dinner with your family at the estate. That night, a telegram had arrived, announcing that Linkon had received its conscription orders. As a captain, Caleb was to depart immediately, tasked with leading a new squadron into the war.

You knew how much being a pilot meant to him. For as long as you could remember, it had been the dream he held onto tightly, rambling on about each aircraft that passed, trimming the hedges with his grandmother, Josephine. 

It was more than a dream though. It was a promise.

A promise he had made not just to himself but to your father, the man he so admired and whose approval he sought above all else. Caleb had vowed that he would become a pilot, rise through the ranks, and then, once he’d proven himself worthy, he would marry you.

And now, he had done it. All of it.

“I’ll write you everyday,” you laughed softly, struggling to keep the tears at bay.

“You’ll probably get a whole sack of mail by the end of the week. The post office will hate me.”

Caleb’s hand found yours, holding on to it tightly, reluctant to let go. His lips brushed against the simple, diamond band he had given you when he asked you to marry him, symbolizing every promise you made to each other. He lingered, as though he were grounding himself in this moment, committing to memory the feel of your skin and the warmth of your touch. 

His gaze lingered on the curve of your lips, the way they trembled ever so slightly as you fought back the tears. And then, his eyes flickered to your lashes, the way they fluttered each time you blinked—his favorite thing about you, especially when he had you pinned beneath him.

“Then I’ll write you twice a day,” he said softly, his voice steady despite the flicker of vulnerability in his eyes.

“Every single day.”

“You better,” you whispered, tears welling in your eyes.

“Or else I’ll have Father send a strongly worded letter to the base and the governor, and—”

“—And the president,” Caleb concluded.

“Who, your father happened to be college roommates with.”

You let out a watery laugh, your voice trembling as you sniffled. Caleb’s hand reached up to gently tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear

“I love you, darling,” he said quietly, just enough for you to hear.

It wasn’t the kind of love declared loudly, for the world to witness. It was the kind that held decades of happiness in its foundation, a promise of the life you were meant to share. 

Tears spilled over despite your best efforts to hold them back, slipping silently down your cheeks as he leaned in, cupping your face with both hands and pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was soft and full of everything you didn’t have time to say. It tasted like the faintest trace of hope, like a lifeline cut too short. 

“I love you more,” you whispered, your hand reaching up to trace the curve of his cheek.

“Come back to me.” 

Before he could answer, you leaned in, pressing another kiss to his lips. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer as though he, too, couldn’t bear to let go. It was tender and frantic all at once, the kind of kiss that spoke of beginnings and endings, of hope and heartbreak.

“Promise me,” you begged, the words tumbling out between kisses, each one more desperate than the last. 

Caleb’s lips parted from yours, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he rested his forehead against yours, brushing away the tears that continued to fall unchecked. It was just the two of you, clinging to this last bit of time together.

“I promise,” Caleb said, struggling to maintain his composure. His cheek gently found the crown of your head, and he held you there for a moment longer, as if savoring every precious second, unwilling to let it go. 

For the briefest moment, you leaned into him, inhaling his scent–something that smelled like summer, the garden, and the orchards behind the house. This was the man you loved, the man who had promised to come back to you, and you couldn’t bear the thought of letting him walk away.

“Captain Xia! We’re ready to board!”

But you both knew the moment had come. Caleb’s eyes closed briefly, as if to steady himself, and then, with a deep breath, he slowly pulled away from you.

“I’ll come back,” he said, as though saying it again could make it true. His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, memorizing every detail of your face.

"I love you."

Then, with one last squeeze of your hand, and kiss to your forehead, he turned and walked toward the waiting plane.

You watched as he walked across the tarmac, each step pulling him further from you, from the life you had hoped to build together. Then, without another word, he climbed aboard.

And just like that, he was gone.

“Y/N.”

Your gaze snapped to the man sitting across from you, the one your father had highly regarded—Dr. Zayne Li. You hadn’t realized how much time had passed since your father’s announcement that you and the doctor would be married.

“I hope the tea is to your liking,” he said.

You forced yourself to lift the cup, your fingers trembling slightly as they wrapped around the porcelain. For a brief moment, you wondered how everything had spiraled so quickly, how you had gone from the man you loved to the man now sitting across from you, who would soon be your husband.

You swallowed hard, the taste of tea feeling bitter against your tongue.

[msschemmenti]

girl in danger - 5

a/n: this chapter was powered by stella rosa peach wine and random cult docuseries'

A throbbing pain yanked her from the darkness. It started at the back of her head, radiating outward in sharp, rhythmic pulses. She rolled her head to the side, looking for some sort of relief, and attempted to raise her hand to inspect the pain. But something felt wrong– her arms wouldn’t move. Something about the thought of being bound sent a surge of panic through her body. With her eyes still closed, she tried again pulling harder, but her wrists were locked behind her. Y/n worked to quell the rising panic and quietly attempted to take some deep breaths. There was really no part of her that could believe this was happening. One minute she was walking down the hall, now she was strapped to a chair with a strip of tape covering her mouth. 

Y/n peeled her eyes open slowly and blinked sluggishly to fight the nausea that was washing over her body. As the room came into focus, the only thing she was thankful for was the dim lights. Everything else was something straight out of a nightmare. Her office had been transformed into a candle-lit dinner setting with Matthew pacing in the corner. Her desk was clear, all of her things strewn about the floor, and a plate of chocolate-covered fruit was in front of her. With all the additional things in the office, it was clear Matthew hadn’t just done this on a whim. He’d probably been planning it all along. And that thought alone, sent a rather unpleasant shiver down her spine. 

The moment must have caught the young man’s attention because he rounded on Y/n quickly. Relief flooded his face as his eyes met the professor’s. He’d made it to her side in two steps and was grinning down at her. “Thank goodness you’re awake. I got a little worried there when I saw how much you were bleeding. But you’re awake now, which is great.” Matt raises his hand to caress Y/n’s head tenderly, “I thought I might’ve hit you too hard there for a bit.” Y/n watched in fear as he kept rambling and reaching for her. Flinching back was the only natural response after a crazed man knocked you out but the action pulled a frown from Matthew almost instantly. “You don’t have to be scared. I’ve got this all planned out. And the hard part is over! You see I’ve been dreaming of this moment since they announced your hiring. My roommate was a music major last year and he kept talking about this new professor starting last term. He was a senior and was a part of the hiring committee. Out of all the candidates, all he did was talk about you. Professor Y/Ln this and Professor Y/Ln that.  You know it was pretty annoying at first until I saw a picture of you. Then it made sense. And I registered for your music literature class that day.” 

Matt’s eyes seemed to glaze over as he recounted his plans, “That very first day of class, I knew I had to have you. When you took attendance and we locked eyes— I felt something I’d never felt before. A spark sounds cliche I know. But I know you felt it too. And then when that class ended, you said ‘I hope to see you in another class’ so I knew for sure. That’s when I hacked into the class registration site and bumped someone out of class voice so I could take it. It was full when I registered and I had told myself that if you didn’t say anything I wouldn’t try to get in but then you did. So I did what I had to do to see you again. And now we can be together, for real. Just like we want.” 

Y/n couldn’t lean any further in her chair without falling and Matt took that advantage to pull her close. He reached for the tape and peeled it back with a sinister smile. “Now that everyone is gone, we can finally enjoy some alone time.” And as the words left his mouth, Y/n’s stomach completely dropped because he was right. No one was here and no one would be here for two weeks. And who knows what Matt has planned for that time. Panic was creeping up her shoulder steadily and if she didn’t think of something soon it was sure to take over. 

When Matt was done explaining himself, he pulled the tape fully off Y/n’s mouth and turned toward the table to adjust the plates. With his eyes no longer on her, she tried to look for something useful. The dress she’d been wearing tonight hadn’t allowed for any pockets but there had to be something in the room she could use to contact someone or even use to beat the shit out of this guy. But the more she looked around the less hope she had. It looked like Matt had swept all of the things to the floor to set up this candlelit dinner table. And her purse with her phone was across the room in the corner. She was completely unarmed and being held hostage by a guy in love with her. At the very least— he was currently planning to keep her alive and she could work with that. 

Y/n swallowed the building lump in her throat and called out to the man, “Matthew, what exactly is your plan? I mean you graduate tomorrow, you’ve gotta do that right?” 

Matthew tsked like the answer was simple, “Of course, I’m gonna walk. My parents will be here tomorrow morning. I was just going to leave you here until it’s over and then we can ride off into the sunset. The world is ours.” Matt’s words continued but Y/n started thinking of ways out. If he was planning to leave her alone for any amount of time, she had a much better chance of getting out of this. While she assessed the binds around her wrists and ankles, she heard the familiar sounds of keys in the halls. The footsteps neared the office door and one glance at the clock had her sighing in relief. Gene, the nighttime public safety officer. 

“Professor Y/Ln? I saw your car out in the parking lot and came to check on you. Now, I know you got all your grades in yesterday what could you possibly still be doing here?”

Y/n nearly called for help, but the look Matt gave her from the door silenced her quickly. Matt’s eyes went wide and he pushed himself against the door to listen for the intruder’s motions. “Who is that? No one is supposed to be here.” He hissed over his shoulder. Gene’s footsteps paused and his keys jingled in the lock of the door. Y/n watched with bated breath as Matt drew his finger up to his mouth to silence her and stand out of sight of the door.

The lock turned and the door swung open revealing the older man in uniform, “Oh, there you are. I was wondering what was going on, shouldn’t you be home by now?” Gene took a step past the door, not having seen the ties holding Y/n captive yet. But at her silence, his face contorted a bit in fear. “Hey, are you o–” Before he could finish, Matt was forcibly striking the butt of a gun across the back of Gene’s head. And the officer fell to the floor. 

“What the hell Matt?!” I guess one hostage wasn’t enough.

[darknesscreepin]

perv!brian who’s obsessed with his roommate, you. the first few months living together was awkward for the both of you, but you adapted well. there were unspoken roles between you guys, therefore making it easier to share a living space.

perv!brian who was so nervous around you. it was a few weeks into your new living situation, you were in the kitchen cooking when brian walked in.

“hey, do you want some?” you asked gesturing at the food you were making. his eyes went wide and he cleared his throat.

“um, no, thanks.” brian said and immediately retreated back into his room. you would wonder about the interaction but brush it off.

perv!brian who went into his room after the short interaction, with a boner. a small groan left his mouth as he gently palmed his erection. the image was clear in his mind—your tits on display in the thin, spaghetti strap shirt you wore. your voice was so soft and kind, it kinda reminded brian of the lewd videos he frequents. the ones where the camera is perfectly angled at a pair of someone’s big boobs. her voice silky as she instructs the viewer how to reach their orgasm. a mocking coo coming front her as she calls him a “good boy.”

perv!brian who loved helping around the house as your friendship progressed. cooking a meal, putting together a piece of furniture, anything to hear you tell him he’s doing a good job.

“brian i love it so much! oh my god it’s so pretty!” you were admiring the new shelf you bought for your room. you were going to assemble it, but brian offered to do it while you were at work. “you did so good brian, thank you so much. just tell me how you want me to repay you, i’ll do anything.” you emphasized with your hands.

perv!brian who’s ears perked up when you complimented his work. he felt his cock throb in his pants as he heard you say he can pick his favor. his mind instantly went to the idea of asking you to suck his dick, in exchange for his voluntary favor. he imagined you being outraged by his ideas

“you sick fucking perv, do you get off to this?” you’d spit at him, maybe push him. he let out a quiet, involuntary moan at the thought of you calling him out. you stopped your rambling and put your hand on brian’s shoulder.

“you okay?” your eyes were filled with concern. brian cleared his throat and nodded. his hands awkwardly rub on the pockets of his jeans.

“yeah, i’m all good. gonna head to my room, i’m glad you like it.” brian declares, his words left his mouth slowly—almost as if he was carefully choosing his words.

perv!brian who has been trying to suppress the way he feels about you. he had stopped sneaking looks at you, and entering your room when you were out. progress was being made, until you brought home dinner one night. the two of you casually talked while setting the table, giggling whenever one of you said something funny. during your meal, you realized that brian had sauce on his lip. you lifted your thumb, and wiped away the sauce that was on his mouth. you innocently brought your finger to your mouth and sucked the sauce from your thumb.

perv!brian who relapsed as he made his way into your room. it had been a few days since the dinner, but he could recall the events so clearly. usually when brian went into your room, he’d take something you wouldn’t miss, then go back to his own room. this time, brian wanted to feel closer to you. he made his way into your bed and wrapped himself in your blanket. he closed his eyes as he recollected that night.

perv!brian who jerked his cock in your bed so aggressively, but couldn’t cum. he stopped his frantic movements and let out a tired sigh. his chest rises and falls a bit before he brings both of his hands to his cock again. eyes closed and hands stroking slow, brian’s mouth opens and he lets out a loud moan. one of his hands slaps over his mouth to suppress his noises. he slides two of his fingers in his mouth and wishes they were yours. his hands were practically abusing his dick but, he still needed more. brian grabbed one of the stuffed animals that sat on your bed and began rubbing it on his cock. he let out loud moans and drool pooled out of his mouth, with his fingers still in his mouth. the spot brian was sitting on your bed, was right in front of the mirror in your room. he got a view of his appearance and immediately got harder. he wanted you to walk in on him, scream at him, and punish him for being such a pervert. brian’s eyes closed as he felt strings of cum paint his hand, head lolling to the side.

perv!brian who installed a hidden camera in your shared bathroom. he loved watching you shower, carefully washing your body, so oblivious. brian especially loved to watch you clean yourself, when you came from the gym. the way your skin glistened with sweat, and you were visibly relaxed after exercising. the way you slightly struggled to take off the tight clothes, bouncing to help free yourself. brian’s breathing would pick up and he felt like he was going to cum in his pants. sometimes after you exited the bathroom, brian would come up to you and say

“y/n, you smell so good.” you noticed a smile on his face and assumed he really liked the scent.

“thanks brian, i got it from target i think it’s that brand, native? yeah, one of the girl scouts scents!” you said, naively answering your roommate, not sensing the smugness in his demeanor.

heyyy guys ik this is probably giving “here damn!” but i just was working on this since the beginning of the month and i’m high so ntm but i was like omfg let me write something cause i do miss posting on here but HERES MY MOMTJLY POST WHO CHEERED! also someone asked did i have anything for brian and ackshully the perv!shota was supposed to be perv!brian but i thought he’d be different ykyk but i’m doing him some justice now! ummm see y’all next month!💗

[paperstarwriters]

Nobody Asked

Doing this @vesuviaweekly prompt with Odysseus style "Nobody" lmao. Also, I added that Muriel likes grilled eel alongside the smoked eel he typically eats for the sole fact that I think Muriel would like eel kabayaki (I only know this dish from Delicious in Dungeon/Dungeon Meshi lmaoo, it's the grilled parasite dish, but damn does it look tasty!)

(also note; reader's experiences on writing are NOT based on my experiences!!!)

Pairing: Muriel x reader

Warnings: N/a

Summary:  Despite technically only being roommates, you and Muriel care for each other deeply, enough so that Muriel's more than willing to defend your online presence, while treating you to a cozy warm meal with cuddles and tender affection

Vesuvia Weekly Prompt | Masterlists | The Arcana Masterlist

Word Count: 2156

════════ |⚙⌨⚙| ════════

It baffles you really, to see the name "nobody" constantly cropping up on your computer screen as you look at the commissions lined up for you. It wasn't often you got commissions really, you weren't that big of a presence online compared to some of your peers and yet you can't help the half giddiness and delight you get when you find your inbox full of a handful of requests. Most people really liked the fluffy cute stuff you made, but once or twice you'd get a request for something more interesting; something that most others didn't really seem to enjoy.

You liked it though.

Sometimes the request was a fun challenge; an interesting dive into the darker aspects of a character or the fascinating moral conflicts of what you should do and what you need to do. Other times, they were requests that circled around your favorite topics. the things you could just ramble on and on and on about for hours. It didn't appeal to everyone of course, and some people didn't like it when you included those dark aspects or that gush of interest you have in some niche topic, but you liked it. It tended to be the target of your passion projects, the muse of the grand majority of your unfinished drafts. Unfinished half because of the agony of creative blocks and half because... Well, you weren't exactly sure if you wanted to post it really. Who would like it anyways?

The last time you posted something outside your typical fluffy stories, so many were so quick to whine about the lack of fluff that they so sought. If it were a darker story than usual, they'd bark about how horrible you were for saying that people should be like that. if it was something of desperate interest to you, you'd get snide comments asking when the next story is, or that you should be working on shoveling their fluffy sweet entertainment into their open and awaiting mouth. It wasn't all horrible of course, there were many who expressed their love and admiration for your non-fluffy works, but still the cruel comments always stuck out, lingering in your mind like a piece of gum in hair.

"Nobody asked for this," you remember some snarky jerk commenting. "Just take it down."

You blocked them promptly after, hissing a bitter sigh, at the sudden infestation of cruelty that had surrounded you. It was nice, in a sense to know that you now had the most of them blocked, but it still worried you, still stung a bit, knowing that some of those people who once so kindly and lovingly enjoyed your stories went out of their way not to say how much they loved the things that they loved you created, but to yell at you for daring to make something different from your usual works. Something in their eyes, abhorrent.

Which was why it both baffles you, and yet delights you when you started to get those requests. A work about bloody horrible trauma. A depiction of violent horrible gore. Of a monster who kills and maims. Or just asking about a recent side interest you mentioned once or twice in your tags. All requested by "nobody"

"Nobody asked for this." It almost makes you laugh.

You've been talking about it to your roommate, while he cooks dinner in the kitchen, chopping away at potatoes, tossing veggies and spices into the big bubbling pot on the stove.

"I'm half tempted to unban the jerk to help Nobody prove their point." you say with a grin, chuckling as you swing your legs from where you're improperly sitting on your seat. You know that if he wasn't busy making food, Muriel would glare at the way you teeter almost precariously on your seat, but you trust yourself enough to not, fall too horribly, and trust the distance between your butt and the floor to not be all too worried about falling.

"....Did they really just do it to prove a point?" Muriel asks wearily, pausing a moment from his fluttering around the pot in what you assume to be a re-assessment of the spices he could use. He hadn't been very used to using spices apparently, only opting to use them since they were here in the form of Asra's left-behind spice rack, and their explicit permission to make something nice for yourselves with it. Also probably so that he wouldn't feel bad feeding you something bad. That always seemed to be a hangup of his.

"I mean, Maybe? Like the requests maybe not, maybe they actually enjoy reading my works but I did kinda think they used the name Nobody to just prove that one jerk wrong."

Muriel shrugs as he inspects the spice rack looking for something, stock still as he hovers over the vast selection Asra had left over for the two of you. Of course, over the many months the two of you have stayed here, not all the spices have remained the same, but the spices for Asra's favourite dish—blue-tongued skink—remain largely untouched, saved for the days when they'd visit, or the odd occasion when the two of you wanted to practice trying to properly cook the damn thing without making it taste like rubber. Really you just didn't know how the hell Asra managed to do it.

"Maybe it's not to the jerk. Maybe it's just for you. To make you happy....Or something."

You didn't catch if Muriel actually found the spice he was looking for or not, but he goes back to hovering in front of the pot, back still turned to you as he hems and haws over what else to add.

You hum in reply, trying to lean forward in your already teetering chair to catch a whiff of his current creation. "I mean, you can't go wrong with salt and pepper right?"

"Wha—oh, yeah, right."

He grabs the both of them then, tossing in a large pinch of salt before he begins methodically grinding pepper into the pot. He slows a little as he does it, speaking up before he sets the thing away. "I just don't think it's smart to unblock someone just to make them more mad."

"Yeah," you sigh, sinking back into your seat. "That's fair."

You grin slightly as you peer over at Muriel, pulling on a pair of embroidered oven mitts. A Kokkhuri pattern if you remember. One he had been trying to practice on nearly every piece of fabric he could get his hands on. You've found a few patterns on the insides of some of your clothes, the same particular pattern that seems to hold some meaning, though you can't tell what and he refuses to share.

"I guess that's a no on un-blocking the jerk, huh?"

Turning off the stove and grabbing the pot, Muriel finally turns back towards you, wearing a small smile on his face as he sets the stew on the table. Like the highest spell from you and Asra's shared store, the scent of the spiced meal engulfs you like a hug, making you relax purely out of habit. It really is amazing how easily it comes from the things that he makes for the both of you. The things you get to share.

He shrugs with one shoulder, as he grabs your shared bowl and fills it with stew, sitting beside you as you lean precariously on your seat towards him. "You didn't ask for their opinion did you?"

You laugh, a short bark of laughter, that nearly has you toppling from your seat if Muriel wasn't already holding onto it. He glares at you a little while you giggle, half at the near accident, and half at the coy corny joke.

"Yeah, yeah. 'Nobody asked for that' I get it."

Choosing not to risk another accident, you change your seating position. It's still not normal by any means, but this time your legs splay over Muriel's lap making his face bloom in shades of pink and red. Still, he doesn't dare try to escape, and keeps smiling, as he carefully rubs a hand on the outside of your thigh, though he cannot help his thumb from wandering as it strokes across your clothed skin.

The gesture, as much as you adore it, doesn't last long, broken as Muriel takes a spoon and begins to feed you, blowing on the spoonful before he offers it to you, like some parent feeding their child. You'd be embarrassed if it hadn't grown so common between the both of you. You do it to him too after all.

Cruelly, however, Muriel asks a question just as you eat your offered spoonful.

"...is it bad that they didn't do it to prove something wrong?" You grin as you glare, though Muriel still apologizes as if he'd somehow hurt you, but your spoonful didn't exactly have much to chew so thankfully you're quick to swallow.

"I mean, not really? It could be both I guess. I don't know though. They just feel special as a follower. I don't even know who they were before but they've been following me for a while now, and they've been liking and relogging my works all the time, and on top of all that they've renamed themself and requested my least requested fics! It's just so.... I don't know. I feel like I ought to do something in return. They just do... It feels like they're doing so much for me."

The bowl is in your hands now, and you've been feeding Muriel a few spoonfuls as you talk, all too eager to watch him eat more, despite still being so hesitant to do so himself. He lets, you, too focused on your words as you hemmed and hawed over this or that, just opening his mouth to let you feed him at random intervals. By the end you've probably fed him a good few spoonfuls more than he'd normally let you give him, but you're not really paying attention to that and neither is he. He stares at the bowl for a bit. Opening his hands in a silent request to be handed back the bowl, which you readily comply to only to watch him stare down at it for a little while longer.

He stirs the soup in the bowl for a bit, and you wait patiently for him to sort his thoughts out, before he takes up a spoonful, and once more, offers it to you with a gentle blow on it's surface.

"I think you do a lot for them too. You put a lot of effort into the things you create, even if you don't get paid for it, or even if not everyone likes it. Don't.... Don't make light of all the good things you've done... You're not obligated to pay them back."

He pauses again at the end of it, and you can't help but almost chuckle at his words.

"'Do as I say, not as I do', huh?"

His face picks up in colour again, but he nods, taking up his spoon to feed you again.

You don't let him feed you for long, taking the bowl back to feed him a few spoonfuls. In the cozy silence knit between you, you feed him some more of his share, blowing twice on the spoonful before you feed it to him, making sure he's eaten plenty before you hand it back to him. And back and forth you pass your food between the both of you. Eventually you fill your bowl with a second serving, and a conversation starts up anew, talking about work, about the nearby market and your favourite bakery, and the next time Asra was planning to visit. Amidst the chatter, the running assessment of who ate how much fades from your memory, but watching Muriel set the empty bowl down to lean back in his seat, and pull your legs just a little closer to his stomach tells you that he's more than eaten his fill.

"Full?" you ask with a bend of your legs, pulling yourself closer so that you can better snuggle. Your chair clatters a little when it hits his, though you're practically sharing the seat Muriel sits on, even if your weight was mostly on your own seat.

He feels a bit warm as he wraps an arm around you to pull you close  and gently rub at your shoulder, but he hums his confirmation, squeezing you a little as if to really hammer home the message. "What about you? Did you like it?"

You hum back at him, tucking yourself almost sleepily against his side. "Hey Mur. Thanks for taking care of me a bunch. Even if Asra mostly asked you to."

He scoffs at your comment. "We're roommates because Asra asked me to be here, but nobody asked me to take care of you."

So warm in his embrace you can't help but yawn a little as you giggle and shake your head at the obvious chance at a joke. "What? They've been sending you asks too?"

Again, Muriel scoffs at your comment, muttering something you just barely catch. "I can't ask myself to do something."

"...What?"

"Hm?"

[behidethetrees]

HOLD MY HEART, ITS BEATING FOR YOU ANYWAY.

IN WHICH… You’re ethans dream girl!

Pairing: Ethan landry x Fem! Reader

Contents: non-gf! Ethan, Reader is bffs with Tara and Anika <3, Chad is definitely Ethan’s biggest hypeman, This is set in the 2000s!!

THIS IS A REUPLOAD!!! my blog got deleted so I have to re-upload all my fics :( but nonetheless enjoy!!

HIGH SCHOOL JUNIOR YEAR 2005 ;

Ethan has had his eye on you for a while.

Since junior year of high school when you asked him for the algebra notes, he's been completely infatuated with you. He had daydreamed about you and everything he would do for you once you became his.

He was so sure you two would tie the knot soon that he started to plan your future together. He dreamed about having a big house with two cats, a good-paying job so he can spoil you, maybe even kids. But he couldn't have any of that if he hadn't talked to you yet.

he decided to take matters into his own hands, He was going to talk to you. He thought of all the different ways he would approach you But every time he tried, Once he got close enough to you, he would always back down because of how nervous you made him.

Ethan felt as if you were getting farther from him Until one day when you asked for the notes again…

"I- uhm, can tutor you if you want." Ethan blurts out

"tutor me? You think I'm stupid?" you said in that sickly sweet voice of yours which, at that moment, didn't feel all too sweet.

"NO!, oh God uhm-no that's not what I meant. I'm so sorry I didn't mean it like that, It's just uh we have a test soon so I didn't know if-" Ethan started to ramble. He had fantasized about you for too long to let you slip away. He wasn't going to let it happen.

"I'm just fucking with you, here's my number." you laugh as you tear a piece of paper from your notebook and grab Ethan's pen from his hand.

Ethan was sure he was seeing hearts around his vision. Ethan had made YOU laugh, Ethan's heart was pumping out of his chest. As you handed him the paper, smiled, and thanked him he had to force himself not to kiss you right then and there.

Every tutor session ended with you two just talking and getting to know each other. Ethan studied you. he memorized what you liked, didn't like, your favorite foods, the shows you liked, everything you told him he would remember.

As you two became closer, Ethan became more and more devoted to you. You two went shopping? He’d carry your bags. Out for food? He’d pay. Simply walking towards a door? He’d hold the door open for you. You had started to consider Ethan a best friend and that made Ethan's stomach hurt with excitement.

When you introduced Ethan to the group, of course, Chad took a quick liking in him, So much so they're now roommates at Blackmore. Ethan would be lying if he said he wasn't jealous of Chad at first. How close you guys were, how comfortable, How much trust you put in him, Everybody loved Chad and his personality, Chad had a higher chance of being with you than Him Ethan thought, and something about that made Ethan's jaw clench harder every time, But he would never admit this.

BLACKMORE UNIVERSITY, SOPHMORE YEAR 2008;

When you got that text from Ethan, Tara grabbed your pink flip phone and freaked out.

“Oh my god! y/n you HAVE to accept this!” Tara yelled as she grabbed your shoulders and shook you.

“Why this restaurant though? Why does he want to go that far out for food?” You said with too much obliviousness that it hurt everyone in the room.

“You have got to be kidding me.” Anika started “ He likes you! He's taking you to a fancy dinner to tell you, There's no other reason why he would want you to go that far out for a hamburger!”

“I don't think he does though, I think he likes that girl in our econ class” You said, The thought of that makes your heart hurt. You had liked ethan for awhile, He was so kind and attentive, If you asked him for help, He would be there in a heartbeat. He treated you with so much respect and gentleness you knew no one else could give you like he did.

“Jill? Are you kidding? You're so blind.” Tara says “Well he looks at her sometimes-” You start getting defensive.

“She sits in front of him Y/N. I promise you he doesn't like her, if he does he's an idiot!” Tara yells.

Anika agrees with a loud yeah!

“Whatever but I still don't think he likes me, we're just friends.” In your gut, you knew that was a lie but you kept telling yourself it wasn't.

“He has heart eyes every time he looks at you y/n. He's definitely in love with you.” Anika said, Tara laughs.

The whole afternoon Tara and Anika helped you get ready and pick out what to wear. You all decided on a y/f/c colored dress with some dark shoes. Tara straighten your hair and Anika did your nails and picked out your perfume.

“He's gonna be more in love with you than he already is!” Tara says, You laugh as Tara and Anika hug you.

Ethan was sitting in the booth of a fancy restaurant that was quite the drive from Blackmore. Chad had finally convinced Ethan to ask you out and when you agreed, Chad's plan was finally in motion. Ethan smelled like Chad's cologne and was dressed in expensive clothes Chad had brought him, a baby blue collared shirt with grey dress pants. Ethan's curls were somehow curlier and out of his face, he looked like a ‘million bucks’ according to Chad.

As you walk in you noticed a group of three sitting to the left of the entrance, All dressed in black, sunglasses, and their hair covering their faces, One of them looked like Anika, You almost laughed. What you didn't notice was Ethan's eyes going wide as he saw you walk in. How his blood started rushing and his heart was about to explode.

“Hey y/n!’ Ethan awkwardly gets up from his seat, He puts his hands on your waist to pull you into a hug.

“Hey Ethan.” you say as you lean into his touch, placing your arms around his neck. It was a short but an effective hug. You too, were now nervous.

As Ethan lets go, You exhale a breath you didn't know you were holding.

You sat across from Ethan and looked at the menu, but Ethan didn't. Ethan was looking at you. Admiring you. How focused you were, how your eyebrows moved up a bit if you saw something that looked good, how you played with your silver ring, taking it off and putting it back on your finger.

“ I think I want to try this, Ethan are you looking?” you ask as you move the menu to show Ethan, “ Are you okay?” You noticed Ethan was just staring down.

“I uhm, need to tell you something.” Ethan says softly. Was he really about to do this?

“Oh okay” Ethan saw you fidget with your ring again, He knew you were just as nervous as he was.

Ethan looked down at his hand to remember what to say- oh crap, Ethan's black ink was smudged from washing his hands. Ethan cursed himself in his head for being so dumb. Ethan breathed in deeply, trying not to panic. What was he supposed to say now?

Ethan picked up his head but avoided making eye contact with you, But you on the other hand were looking right into his hazel eyes that still somehow shined even in the dimed lights.

“I don't know if this is weird because we're friends and I don't want to make you uncomfortable,” Ethan starts, He knew this wasn't the best way to start but he didn't know what else to say. “If you don't feel the same that's okay, And if you don't want to be friends after this thats fine too-” Ethan is stalling.

“Ethan what are you saying?” You knew what was coming but you wanted to hear him say it.

“Its nothing bad! I just uhm, like you.” Ethan mumbles while scratching his face.

“What?” You heard him, You just wanted him to say it again.

“ I like you y/n, I've liked you for so long it's making me crazy.” Ethan's mouth begins to move faster than his brain. “ I've loved you ever since I've known you and- and I've tried to show you, The best days of my life revolve around you, it's always been you.” Ethan doesn't notice that you get up and start to walk to his side of the booth.

“ I’d do anything you want, I already do everything you want and I'm sorry if this is weird but your all I want-” You grab Ethan's hand from his lap as you sit next to him, Now he notices.

“Ethan how could i not like you? Youre like, the best person ive ever met.” You make sure he looks you in your eyes so he knows you really mean it.

“ You have so much kindness and patience and i admire that so much, You make me feel loved.” You say as you lean in to kiss him. Ethan was caught off guard but slowly he grabs your hips as you place your hand on the side of his arm. It was a long passionate kiss filled with years of yearning and love for each other.

As you began to pull away you see the same 3 weird people from the other table in front of you.

“Tara?!” It was Tara, Anika, and Chad dressed up, Anika Was recording.

“Is it official?” Tara asks with excitement. You and Ethan looked at each other before smiling and turning to the others and nodding.

Immediately Tara grabs you out of the booth and hugs you so tight you felt like you couldn't breathe, Anika also joining in. Chad and Ethan do their handshake they’ve practice for over a year, this time they perfected it.

“Dinner is on me!” Chad yells.

A/N; Thanks for reading I hope you enjoyed!

Requests

[plutoccult]

THREE LITTLE WORDS

pairing: jean kirstein x female reader

description: a love confession from jean shakes up your restless night as the two of you are unable to fall asleep.

word count: 2.6k

read part two here

also available to read on my ao3 here

author’s note: hi, this was originally written on my ao3 account (@plutotown, same as my main blog and also my wattpad that i notoriously don’t post stories on anymore) a few months ago, but i decided that i also wanted to share works on tumblr too as i would like to get back into writing again. i’ll probably post mostly anime stuff on here (especially attack on titan and haikyuu as of rn), but i’m open to more. hopefully this is something i stick to, but if not, then at least i decided to expand sharing my works! anyway, sorry to ramble, but i hope you enjoy <3

it was common for you to be in this position; using what’s left of the candlelight to accompany your restless state. you always had trouble sleeping, especially with so many things going on at once, and the bags underneath your eyes were proof of it.

this time around, you were writing a letter to your father as it had been awhile since the two of you exchanged words. luckily for you, sasha, your roommate, was bothering connie and jean in their room, so you didn’t have the sounds of her snoring or munching on food to irritate you.

such peace didn’t last forever though as three knocks had startled you in the midst of your writing. you couldn’t possibly think of who could be at the door at this hour besides sasha, but then again, what if it was captain levi or hange? anything could happen in the middle of the night, but you supposed that if a major event was happening, the headquarters would be roaring with chaos already.

before answering the door, you quickly set down your paper and pen, hearing another knock to the door as you were getting ready to answer it. “coming!”

you opened the door, your eyes meeting with the last person you expected to see tonight. “j-jean?”

jean stood in front of you with his arms crossed, looking a little disgruntled, which made sense considering it was the middle of the night. you grew flustered as he wore a white tank top which revealed jean’s muscles that you had never noticed before. sure, you had become quite toned yourself since starting training as a lanky teen, but he was on whole other level. it was embarrassing to look at your friend and comrade in such a way, so you really had to keep yourself together here.

“nice nightgown.” jean snickered. you looked down and glanced at your baby pink nightgown that went down to your calves with its puffy sleeves and a little bow in the middle of your chest. usually after dinner, the two of you don’t see each other when going to bed, so seeing one another in pajamas like this was something new. if only this couldn’t get any more embarrassing. you didn’t really need jean having something else to tease you about.

“what are you doing here?” you stammered, trying to force your eyes to look up at jean’s face and not his physique no matter how hard it was to not stare. how dare he make this so hard for you?

“can’t sleep.” he sighed. “sasha and connie have been keeping me awake, and then i realized you have an empty bed because she’s in me and connie room, so.”

“so...?” you furrowed your eyebrows.

“well, since you’re clearly awake, wanna stay up together?” at first, you thought of his proposal as suspicious, and yeah, it kind of was. he never comes to visit you at night like this. was there a hidden motive? who knew? you didn’t, and it’s not like you were innocent either, so you allowed him to come in and hope for the best.

“um, sure...” you replied hesitantly, no going back now. “you can even crash on sasha’s bed if you want.”

“sweet, thanks.” jean then stepped inside, his first instinct to check out the letter you were writing previously that sat out in the open for any curious eyes to see. “oh, what are you writing—“

“it’s a letter to my father!” you yelled out, quickly rushing towards him and grabbing the letter out of his hands before he could read it. “i was in the middle of writing it before you knocked.”

“oh, my bad.” he immediately apologized. “you can finish writing it, i don’t mind.”

“no, that’s fine.” you let out a sigh, putting away the paper and pen into an empty drawer. jean didn’t say anything else about it, and as you turned your head, you saw him begin to sit down on sasha’s bed with not enough time to warn him about the issue with her side of the room. “by the way—“

“jesus, are these crumbs?!” jean said in disgust. there it is.

“yeah. sasha likes to eat in bed. i was just about to warn you about that.” you forced a laugh, sitting across from him on your bed, which was notably free of any crumbs.

“disgusting.” he scoffed. the look on his face made you giggle, but you stopped once jean looked up with a bit of a scary look. “what’s so funny?”

“nothing, nothing.” you lied, then patted your hand down on the spot next to you for jean. “you can sit on my bed if you want though. i’m not falling asleep anytime soon.”

“oh.” jean stood up and wiped off any crumbs that happened to stick to his pants, moving on over to your side. he blushed as you two sat close, your hips so close that they could touch if they moved even the slightest bit closer. “uh, could you not sleep either?”

“yeah. plus, i still had yet to write my father back, so i took the opportunity to start writing it.” you shrugged. you really needed to write to your father more often, especially knowing how worried he had been since you decided to abandon your life’s plan by joining the survey corps instead of the military police. but hey, you had friends who had your back just as much as you had theirs.

jean wasn’t all that innocent either though. he missed out on writing his mother back more than you missed out on writing your father back. when it came to worried parents though, mrs. kirstein took the cake. he was surprised she hadn’t stormed the headquarters by now, but even she knew he was so busy fighting for humanity. “i need to write back to my mom too. i hope she’s not worried.”

“i’m sure she thinks about her jean-bo all the time.” you teased. jean-bo could never escape that nickname, especially with you around. although, he didn’t exactly mind when you called him that. dare he say it, but you were the only exception. jean couldn’t help but hate it with a burning passion when eren used it against him though.

“not the nickname...” jean couldn’t help but pout. his frown disappeared as you lightly nudged him, reminding him that jean-bo wasn’t the only thing he was known for.

“what? it’s cute. well, cuter than being called my stallion sidekick.” that wasn’t exactly the best nickname either, but it connected him to you, so he couldn’t complain about it as much. jean always thought there had to be something better than that though.

“we are quite a pair, huh?” he chuckled, looking over to you as you grinned and responded in agreement.

“the greatest, of course.” god, that smile. it was his weakness, but in this instance? that weakness hit him like a ton of bricks. with the combination of the growing tension, the moonlight slightly shining on your soft skin through the window, and the look of peace and innocence in your eyes (compared to your feisty look in the daytime), jean was smitten. your smile never failed him, and he hoped it wouldn’t fail him now.

“um, listen, y/n, i gotta tell you something.” jean couldn’t take it anymore. he couldn’t stand the way his heartbeat slowed, even skipped a beat when you smiled the way you always did. he hated it yet loved it at the same time, so this was now or never. he couldn’t let that smile ever leave him, not now, not ever.

“oh, okay. go ahead.” but you never had any clue about your effect on jean. sure, you were always on each others toes, attached to the hip as you both relentlessly teased one another. you always knew you and jean shared a deep connection, one that grew over the years, but you always assumed it was simply a friendship and nothing more. you couldn’t let a silly thing like feelings ruin what you had with him, but jean was willing to take a chance for once.

there was no better way to go about this than muttering your name and spilling out those three little words that would change everything. jean was always one to get flustered so easily, but the tiredness in him didn’t let him think too much, so it made all of this far more easier. without really thinking, jean lifted his hand and used it to tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear, hair that had seemingly grown out a little longer due to neglect thanks to the chaos around you. he watched as you grew confused, and that’s when jean said the words he had been wanting to say for months out loud.

“y/n, i love you.”

as jean retracted his hand away, your eyes shot wide open in shock. you had no idea what to say or do, you couldn’t even believe this was even happening. you felt like you could pass out at any second as the realization of jean’s confession hit you. he loved you. not just like, but love. it didn’t matter that you were merely teens in a cruel world where death was always around every corner. what started as a childish crush as cadets blossomed into an aching, burning, earth shattering love for the woman in front of him who was stronger than he thought he’d ever be.

the scenario of jean having feelings for you never crossed your mind. every time you pictured him knowing how you felt, it always ended the same with him brutally rejecting you and running after mikasa instead. god, were you dreaming? you almost wanted to yell out for somebody, anybody to pinch you all over until you started bleeding, but you were practically frozen.

“jean...” it was the only thing you could manage to utter out. even if you could speak in sentences, your mind simply wouldn’t be able to mush any words together, but you had to say something, anything. you knew how your heart beat for him but as the silence stretched out longer than it should have, jean sat in front of you, desperate for a reply. “y/n?”

“i, uh...” why couldn’t you say anything more? what was so hard about giving a proper response? to jean, it felt like a huge punch in the face, like he was being rejected, and he figured if you couldn’t manage to say anything, then he shouldn’t have said anything about his feelings in the first place.

“i knew i should have kept my mouth shut.” jean let out a sigh. you tried opening your mouth in hopes something more than “uh” would come out, but jean had given up hope on a reply, handling what seemed like rejection with grace. “just forget all of this. i’m sorry i forced my feelings upon you. i’ll just let you get back to writing your letter.”

as he stood up and began to walk out, you finally managed to say something else once you saw his hand hover over the doorknob, and it came out more as a yell rather than a normal volume. “no!”

jean turned around confused, moving his hand away from the doorknob but still standing in the same place just in case. you had his attention, but what now? “i mean...”

“goodnight, y/n.” he knew this was going nowhere, even if you seemed desperate to prevent his exit. jean grabbed the doorknob and opened the door, and as he began to step out, you stopped him once again, but with greater effort than before.

“no, don’t leave me!” you yelled out, standing up from your bed and rushing towards him. it all sounded so pathetic, you thought, but you couldn’t let him leave you, not yet. jean halted his exit once again, no matter how much it hurt him to stay a moment longer. he simply couldn’t say no to you, even at a time like this. “i mean... wait, please.”

and he did wait. that stupid, teenage hope in his heart made him wait. jean didn’t know what he was waiting for, but he was glad he did. you walked closer to him, his heart beating a mile a minute, and then you stood on the faintest hint of your tippy toes and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him unbearably close to you for a hug. he was so confused, not knowing what this could possibly mean in this instance, but returned your embrace and carefully wrapped his hands around your waist, not wanting them to rest too high or too low on your frame.

you didn’t utter a word and neither did he. this was different than the times you hugged each other for comfort in the aftermath of the many deaths you’ve seen. this wasn’t for consolation or just because you felt like it, this was longing. a desperate pining for one another that would crash and burn like the worst natural disaster there ever was, and there was no escaping it.

you trailed your fingers across his neck as jean gripped onto the fabric of your nightgown. you slowly parted from his embrace, cheeks grazing, noses brushing, and before you could do anything else, jean’s lips pressing against yours. there was no time for you to process it, no time to even close your eyes and take it all in, it just all went by so fast. your first kiss. you knew you should have seen it coming knowing he loved you, but seeing him express this more physically came to more of a shock than when he did verbally.

as jean parted away slowly, he thought to himself that this was probably a mistake. he had overstepped far more than he thought he should have, but when you took a step back away from him, he saw the redness of your cheeks and the look in your eyes. after getting a full glimpse of you, he thought that maybe it wasn’t that much of a mistake after all. jean then let go of you completely, using one hand to scratch the back of his neck and the other to tug the neckline of his tank as he grew flustered. he was wide awake now, so his mind was functioning at one hundred percent unlike before. jean was back to his usual self, the night no longer granting him confidence.

“i-i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have done that. forgive me. goodnight.” before you could do anything more, jean finally left, his feet moving faster than when he dragged them across the floor on his way here. he couldn’t believe he just did that, and he didn’t even give you a chance to say a word about your feelings. what would you have said after that kiss if he stayed, jean wondered. would you have said you loved him too, or would you have formally rejected him and told him you didn’t feel the same? jean would just have to wonder about it all night until you spoke to each other again, and it would probably eat him alive like a titan.

you gently grazed your hand over your bottom lip, thinking about everything that happened before jean left. not only could you not believe he loved you, you couldn’t believe he kissed you too. you wished it all went down differently, that the kiss could have occurred on better terms, but at least you had the words he left you and the thought of his lips against yours to think about. still, if only you could have said you felt the same just as he said he felt for you. if only you knew how to say those three little words.

© plutoccult / 310802. please do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my content in or outside of tumblr. reblogs are appreciated <3

[silverhallow]

Accidents Happen

pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Sophie Beckett

summary: Sophie and Benedict are roommates and when Benedict accidentally walks in on a rather private moment things get awkward between them until Benedict decides to act

warnings: masturbation, accidental voyeurism, accidental exhibitionism, mutual masturbation, sofa sex, woman on top, teasing,

word count: 5012 words

author's note: this is just smut, no one asked for it but it’s roommates to lovers and my muse fancied writing it so I hope you enjoy it. It’s only going to be on here it’s not going on ao3.

Sophie had only been living with Benedict for four months, two weeks and three days when he walked in on her masturbating. He'd originally left with an overnight bag swinging from his arm and a casual comment thrown over his shoulder to let her know he was heading back to his mother’s for the weekend.

Not even ten minutes after he walked out the door she stripped down to her vest top and knickers, feeling an urgent need to relieve some of the tension that being around him regularly caused.

Everything about Benedict made him the perfect housemate, except for the fact that he was gorgeous. That had proven to be a distraction. His eyes and hair were a blue that made her want to get lost in them, along his addiction to rowing, combined with his job as a photographer and artist, helped maintain a long lean body. The playful way he had about him, from his sense of humour to his relaxed personality, pushed all the right buttons, and far more often than she wanted to admit.

She'd removed her bra and sat cross-legged on the sofa with a movie playing on TV for inspiration. Just as she really started getting into it, one hand inside her knickers and the other cupping the breast she'd tugged her top down to expose, Benedict barged into the flat rambling about having forgotten something.

He stopped mid-sentence and stared, his mouth opened, completely shocked as amusement filled his bright blue eyes.

Sophie seemed to recover first and screamed, "Oh my God, Oh, my God! Get out! Close your eyes! Stay there! Fuck! Just Fuck!" She scrambled to pull up her top and clamped her legs together, throwing the remote at him as a distraction while she sprinted from the room, mortified beyond belief.

Embarrassment swept over her again at the memory and she wondered for about the hundredth time whether she'd ever get over it, whether she needed to move out and just avoid him completely for the rest of her life.

She had to admit that she was lucky that she hadn't been calling out his name at the time. If he'd turned up a few seconds later it would have been a completely different story and she’d probably have left the country.

She sipped her glass of wine and stirred the sauce bubbling in the pot on the stove. It was already after seven. He'd be home any minute now.

Her exhibitionist moment had become that elephant in the room no one dared speak about but it was only a matter of time before he cracked and brought up the subject.

Since coming home from his weekend away a week ago he kept sending her amused glaces, seemed to confirm her hunch, the only reason he held back from talking about it was because it made her uncomfortable, it was making her squirm. This whole situation was entertaining for him.

Sophie heard the front door open and close and felt her heart hammering, she knew his routine, he usually headed down the hall to get rid of his art gear or his camera which ever he’d been using that day before he came looking for dinner. She took the pot of sauce off the hob and started to dish up.

Moments later he entered the kitchen, sending her a grin while he strolled across the tiled floor barefoot. She just knew every time he looked at her now he pictured that scene all over again.

"Hey," he said. He’d changed into a pair of shorts and a tight white t-shirt, showing his muscles off and making Sophie want to cry.

"Hi." Sophie smiled and met his eyes briefly. "Dinner's almost ready if you want to set the table."

She hated the way he made her feel, the way his chestnut hair gleamed almost red under the lights. He always looked so healthy and full of life while she felt like she was almost on the sickly side of skinny with mostly unremarkable features. Her only saving grace was a plump mouth tha, according to her last boyfriend, made her look like a pin up model when she wore red lipstick and a pair of breasts that were far too big for her frame.

Her job as a writer meant she sometimes worked from home so she'd thrown on an old grey t-shirt and black leggings this morning. Her feet were bare and her dark-framed glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. A butterfly clip just barely held her messy blonde bun together at the back of her head. She felt like a complete tramp compared to Benedict.

When they were both sitting in the dining room near the window Sophie was barely paying attention as she speared a piece of chicken and shoved it into her mouth. She chewed and swallowed, then quickly replaced it with another to avoid having to talk to him. She figured she’d speed eat like she had done for the last few nights and she’d disappear back into her room.

She wanted things to return to normal between them, that they could go back to sharing their flirty ways, teasing and having fun together. They'd clicked from the moment they met when she was desperate for a place to live and Kate had known Benedict needed a roommate and someone to help cook for him.

But now it was just awkward and the fault lay entirely with her, he hadn't changed a bit, she’d been the cause of the change in their dynamic.

Her eyes remained directed at her plate, determined to get through the meal without speaking to him. It was only when Benedict let out a snort of amusement that she raised her head and looked at him.

"It's natural, you know," he said, his gaze roamed her face, taking everything inch of her in. "To want to do it, I mean. Everyone does it."

Sophie closed her eyes. "I don't want to talk about this, Ben."

"I know."

She opened her eyes and made herself look at him, incredulous that he was bringing it up. "Then why are you bringing it up?"

"Because we need to talk about it." He balanced his fork on the edge of his plate. "This is serious, the tension around here's putting me off my food, it was bad before Sophie but this… it’s getting ridiculous."

Can't we just pretend it never happened?" she asked hopelessly.

"Sophie, it did happen and it's not a big deal. You're the one that is turning it into one."

Her eyes widened in disbelief, "That's easy for you to say. How would you feel if I walked in on you…” she paused for a moment before continuing “you know… pleasuring yourself?"

"I don't know because it's never happened to me. I always go somewhere private to...pleasure myself." Sophie could hear the humour in his tone and wanted to cry. "I've never set myself up on the joint sofa before and just gone for it."

Oh, my God. If the humiliation at hearing his words wasn't enough now she had the image of him all aroused to contend with, too, this really was hell.

Sophie pushed her plate away feeling physically sick and started to bang her forehead gently against the table. "I'm just going to bang my head here until I knock myself out, okay? Then maybe i’ll wake up and this was just some horrible nightmare."

"Oh come on Soph." His amusement only made the situation that much worse and honestly she was questioning why couldn't she be the mature one here? The one to just talk about it and clear the air and make things right. She was supposed to be the grown up one in this flat.

Sophie had her eyes closed but she heard the chair legs scraping against the floor then felt his hand wrapped around her upper arm. He tugged her reluctantly into a standing position, she knew he wanted to talk about it rather than eat his dinner and given she’d made one of his favourites in an attempt to distract her, made her realise just how determined he was to fix this problem.

She opened her eyes and looked up to stare up at him, blown away by the jolt of awareness she experienced, how close they were, how she could see the little flecks of light blue in his eyes, the black of his eyes seemed to smoulder.

"Why does it bother you so much?" he asked as his brows pulled together as he studied her, curious as to why this was really bothering her so much. Hoping that it meant what he hoped it would.

"Is it really that hard to understand? You saw me with my hand in my… you know…, Benedict. You saw my boobs, too." She turned her head and her entire body as she stared out the window, wishing she could be anywhere other than here.

She didn’t want to be reliving and talking about the most embarrassing moment in her entire life.

“I only saw one boob," he corrected. "Albeit, a very...very nice one."

Her eyes flicked back to his eyes to check whether he was making fun of her but his compliment appeared to be sincere and she felt herself flush, "Thank you," she said.

"No, thank you."

A reluctant smile appeared on her lips, the compliment had caught her off guard and made her realise that she should have talked about it with him when it actually happened instead of leaving it to him to address the issue. It would have been a lot easier and possibly a lot less painful.

"It just feels like I'm at a disadvantage. You saw me during a very private moment. Which I know you think it's funny but I don't like you having that over me."

His mouth turned up at one corner, a smirk crossing his lips, playful and teasing as he asked "You want me to wank off in front of you to make things even?"

Her stomach fluttered at the thought, she felt herself growing wet at the thought of it even if he was joking to lighten the mood, she went to open her mouth, the word she knew what she wanted to utter, but all that came out was “erm….” as she gave a tentative and embarrassed smile

Benedict let out a bark of laughter, “I can't believe it. You actually want me to wank off in front of you”

Sophie kept her eyes on him and her mouth shut, waiting not wanting to give into her baser urges to herself, she refused to get herself in any deeper without some indication that he felt even a tiny portion of the attraction that tormented her on a daily basis.

He watched her and the humour slowly slipped from his expression, his eyes burned with an intensity that made her want to squirm where she stood, silence stretched between them, growing unbearable and almost tangible.

The silence stretched on and the strain between them grew until it eventually became unbearable. His gaze dropped to her breasts as they lifted and fell beneath her vest. When his eyes met hers again the intensity in them left her stunned. "If we're doing this I'll need some inspiration."

Her breath seemed to catch as her pulse raced. "Like...what?" She could barely get the words out as her body seemed to fizz.

"You’re a writer…Use your imagination." He smirked, taking her wrist and led her into the living room towards the two oversized leather sofas, the scene of her humiliation. He took her over to the coffee table and urged her to sit on the edge as he positioned himself on the exact same sofa that she’d been on and settled himself opposite her and relaxed and he raised his brow, "When this is over, so is all the awkwardness between us. I want the old Sophie back, I want us to go back to the way we were okay?."

She swallowed, she had no idea if he intended to go through with this, or if he was teasing her, waiting for the right moment to burst into laughter. If it had been any other Bridgerton, she’d have been assuming this was a set up but there was a heat in his eyes, that made her feel like this was for real. "Okay” she swallowed, knowing he was waiting expectantly for her to do something so just to be safe, she reached up to tug at the clip holding her hair in place. She pulled it free and her long blonde hair tumbled over her shoulders and she tossed it side to side. "Does that inspire you?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

Benedict smirked and let out an amused breath, "You're beautiful Soph but No, I'm going to need more."

She hid her little smile of happiness at his words, at the warmth they encouraged inside her. Sophie pinched the temple of her glasses and went to take them off but he reached out quickly and stopped her "Leave 'em on," he said. “please…”

So he liked her in her glasses? That was interesting. She nibbled her lower lip, wondering how far to go, where to go next. She looked at him, she could see affection and a tenderness that filled her heart with happiness and he looked at her like she was some sort of goddess, wanting her to keep going. He just sat there patiently waiting, his hands resting on his knees while his gaze swept over her, helping her relax.

He wasn't pushing her or teasing her so she decided to take the next step, to stop being so afraid that he was going to laugh at her.

Sophie held her breath, steeling her nerves and gripping the hem of her vest, dragging it over her torso. The vest dropped from her slackened fingertips and she sat before him wearing only her blue lace bra and black leggings, an intense longing spread through her as she watched him watching her, the fire in his eyes almost burning her.

"Now we're getting somewhere," he said.

She heard the huskiness in his voice and shivers tickled the surface of her skin. Before she could change her mind Sophie stood up and made quick work of removing her leggings. "I seem to be the only one who's actually doing anything."

She sat back down in her matching blue thong, gripping the edge of the table to keep her trembling fingers steady. "Don't you have a job to do?"

His mouth quivered with the smile she knew and loved. "Why don't you just tell me you want to see my cock?"

Desire swelled inside her, crashing in the pit of her stomach, making her feel as if she'd just lost her footing. She met his eyes and in a voice that had turned surprisingly breathy she said, "I really want to see your cock."

Benedict swallowed and he wanted to groan, wanting to throw her onto the sofa and have his way with her as he replied, "Keep that up and you'll be doing a lot more than looking."

He grabbed his top and leaned forward, drawing it over his head to reveal his entire upper body to her for the first time and Sophie nearly gasped. He'd never been one for strutting around the apartment half-naked and she regretted that the moment she set eyes on his bare chest.

"Wow." She felt a sudden urge to run her tongue over his abs. "You've got an incredible body, but I still don't see your...you know."

He chuckled and it thrilled her that they could find time to laugh despite the sensual nature of the moment. "You're a little eager, aren't you? Been a while?"

"Ages." she replied as she threw the last of her courage into the wind and reached behind her to the clasp on her bra. Sophie flicked it open and drew the straps down her arms until they settled at her bent elbows. She kept the cups in place with her hands and sent him an expectant look.

The idea of baring herself to him in this way made her heart race. He'd already told her he liked what he saw when he caught her here on the sofa a week ago but that wasn't the problem. It was her being almost naked and sitting just across from him while he was still covered up and she had to drag in a steadying breath.

He grinned and lifted his hips, shoving at the waistbands of both his shorts and underwear. He lowered them at the same time, stopping just before he got to the good stuff. "Are you sure you can handle this?"

She watched the ridges in his stomach contract and her mouth went dry. She really wasn't sure of anything right now and decided to play coy and smirked, "I won't be the one handling it, but I'm sure I'll enjoy watching."

He huffed out a laugh and his thumbs stayed tucked in the top of his shorts, teasing her with the skin he had on display and the mystery of what remained hidden. "There's only one problem here," he said.

She clutched her loosened bra to her breasts. "And what would that be?"

He met her eyes. "I didn't get to see you cum."

Her cheeks flushed and a quick thrill ran through her. She knew exactly what he was getting at; she'd have to be content with an unfinished show from him or join in so they could reach that peak together.

The thought of him in that moment, watching that look come over his face, she didn't want to miss out on seeing it for real, if this was her only chance at that, she had to take it. "You want to watch me?"

He gave her a wicked smile. "I'd rather make you come than sit back and watch, but I'll take whatever I can get."

Her heart slowed to a heavy thud and her mouth fell open "What?"

Benedict shook his head and laughed. "So pretty, yet so dense," he teased. "What do you think all the flirting has been about?"

"I just thought… I thought you flirted with all women like that." Knowing she'd jumped to the wrong conclusion made her happier than she'd thought possible. "You want to have sex with me?" Sophie narrowed her green eyes, staring at him. He'd better not be joking, this might actually kill her with mortification if he was.

"Hmm, no." His gaze travelled over her, pausing at her mouth before moving slowly down her body, taking her in, hungrily, greedily, knowing he could stare at her forever and never take her all in until he finally looked her in the eyes. "Having sex sounds so clinical. I want to fuck you."

She let out the breath she'd been holding, a little gasp of shock and pleasure as a surge of something completely and utterly carnal took hold of her, knowing "I didn't know," she said breathlessly. "I mean, look at you...and...look at me."

He frowned, appearing annoyed by that, as if he couldn't understand why she felt so out of her depth when it came to his physical appeal. "If you don't shut up and come over here I'm going to start wondering why I'm so hopelessly attracted to you."

She couldn't catch her breath. Her fingers tightened around the delicate material of her bra as she took it from her breasts and let it fall to the floor. Sophie shook her head slowly. "I still want to watch you," she heard herself saying.

His gaze dropped to her bare breasts and his jaw clenched as he fought back a groan. "Better lose the thong, then."

The expression on his face made her want to kiss him. A rush of need swept through her. Her nipples tightened into sensitive buds. She pushed herself off the coffee table and slipped her fingers into the waistband of her thong. Benedict's eyes followed her every movement and as she lowered the last offending garment he pushed his shorts and boxers down his thighs.

She stepped from her underwear just as he revealed his cock, inch by delectable inch. Her pulse raced. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the sight. It was already hard and now she'd just found somewhere else on his body that she wanted to lick.

He kicked his shorts free as Sophie sat back down on the table. She perched on the edge, torn between the need to climb over him and straddle his lap or keep her distance for a better view.

"Ladies first," he said as a muscle twitched in his jaw. His eyes burned with need. She'd never seen this side of him before. Desperate, needy.

With a daring and boldness she didn’t know she possessed she lifted her feet, resting them on the side of the coffee table, while she slowly, slowly parted her knees. One hand reached behind her, her palm flattening against the table top for support. The other dipped between her thighs to tease her damp folds. Moisture coated her fingertips. She sighed, wanting to tip her head back but unwilling to lose sight of him for a second.

Benedict groaned and grabbed hold of his cock, stroking the thick, hard length as he watched her. His eyes slid over every part of her, from her face to her breasts, dropping between her legs like a physical caress. The veins in the back of his hand stood out. The way his fingers gripped his erection made her own move faster over her slick pussy.

She wanted his hands on her, all over her. She wanted to feel the damp heat of his mouth as it travelled across her skin, the rigid length of him as it sank inside her.

"I was thinking about you," she said, struggling to put the words together. "When you walked in on me, I mean." Her fingers slid over her clit, massaging the swollen bud while her gaze meshed with his. She hit a sensitive spot and closed her eyes briefly, swallowing a moan. "I always think about you."

"Sophie." She opened her eyes at the sound of her name. He let out a heavy breath that bordered on a groan, working his cock with increasing speed. The head glistened with moisture. She imagined lapping at it with the tip of her tongue. "Come here…. I want you."

His words gave her a head rush. She drew her legs together and warmth pulsed between her thighs as she rose from her position on the table. She took the two steps that lay between them, leaning over him to bring her mouth into close contact with his. He reached up with one hand and filled his palm with her flesh, massaging her breast, teasing her nipple while his lips brushed hers in a heated soul consuming kiss.

Sophie sighed and climbed over him, hovering with her legs spread either side of his thighs. She clasped her hand around his, encouraging him to keep stroking his cock. He groaned and pressed his mouth to hers, taking control, guiding the kiss. He took it deeper, drawing it out with slow sweeps of his tongue, soft nibbles of his lips.

He thumbed her nipple as a whimper sounded in her throat and her hand skated over her belly to delve back between her thighs. She found her wetness, teasing her clit once more.

With a moan she began to rock her hips to meet the firm glide of her fingertips. The slick head of his cock bumped against her knuckles as they both pleasured themselves.

Her control faltered and she kissed him harder, thrusting her tongue against his as her desire grew. Her hips jerked. She broke the kiss, her breaths coming heavily as she whispered, "Your cock...I want to ride it."

He growled and tugged harder at his thick length, using his free hand to grab a fistful of her hair at the back of her head. "Cum for me first," he said, "then it's all yours..." He used his grip on her hair to hold her right there and crushed his lips to hers.

His tongue plunged into her mouth. A wanton moan tore from her and she rubbed her clit, massaging, teasing...pushing herself closer to the edge. Her eyes closed tightly, her only focus to hit her peak. She needed him inside her.

She needed him like she never needed another in her life. His hard, wet cock kept sliding against the back of her hand, taunting her, urging her on.

He seemed to sense her impending release. Either that or he was close himself. His mouth grew more demanding, his groans more frequent. Sophie's fingertips increased pressure on her clit, slipping back and forth. Her other hand cupped the back of his neck, holding on. Her belly tensed and her hips thrust.

His mouth roamed over hers, his tongue caressed. It only increased her desire, her need for him. His hand in her hair, his body beneath her, she wanted him so much.

Sophie pulled her mouth free to drag in a shaky breath before her forehead rested against his, their eyes meeting before she cried out his name as she began shuddering. It flowed through her in a surge of complete bliss. Her moan, when it came, was throaty and full of pleasure. Her fingers kept rubbing, her hips jerking.

While the final tremors still shook her body Benedict released her hair and clasped her hips and without a warning, knowing how badly they both needed it, he shoved his cock inside her, pulling her down to deepen the connection causing her to scream with pleasure. He filled her, harsh, fast. Her wet fingers dug into his shoulder, her other hand clutched his hair.

His deep groan against her throat made her shiver. He wrapped his arms tightly around her and fucked her hard. Sophie held on, turning her head to press her lips to his temple. Her breasts jolted against his chest. Her stomach quivered as the need built inside her all over again.

His arm tightened around her and he lifted her, still connected with him, lowering her onto her back on the sofa. He rested on one elbow, using his other hand to grasp her arse as he took her even harder. His cock plunged inside her, his hips smacking hers.

Sweat-slicked skin met sweat-slicked skin, his chest brushed against her taut nipples.

Benedict looked into her eyes, a glint of something wild in his gaze. His mouth lifted in a half-smile. "You're so fucking beautiful," he said.

Sophie clenched her thighs around him, linking her ankles at the base of his spine. "Shut up and make me cum."

He nuzzled her throat and chuckled. Damned if the sound didn't make a shiver pass right through her. His pace increased, growing in intensity until she found herself having a brand new appreciation for athletic men.

She met his thrusts with her bucking hips, tipping her head back and biting her lip. She felt it coming, the throb beginning between her thighs. Benedict's teeth grazed her throat and it was all she needed to give her that final push. Sophie gripped his shoulders and let out a hoarse moan, writhing beneath him. She was still so sensitive from the last effort that she wanted to pull away from him and get closer all at the same time.

Her release only spurred him on. Benedict's fingers dug into the flesh of her arse, pulling her toward his thrusts. His mouth travelled across her collarbone, moving up to her jaw. He rested his lips there, his warm breaths whispering her name over and over as he reached his peak. Sophie held on, bracing herself as he gave a couple of final, forceful thrusts, letting out a loud roar of her name as he came inside her.

She hugged him, her arms and thighs wrapping around him to keep him close. He relaxed against her, his heart thudding hard, his breaths wrenching from him.

Her eyes drifted closed and a smile claimed her features. She relished in the weight of him pressing against her. She couldn't believe how much had changed between them in such a short space of time. From the awkwardness this morning to this...

Sophie let out a trembling breath and pressed her cheek to his, closing her eyes to take it all in, committing the moment to her memory.

A short while later Benedict stirred against her and lifted his head. "Hi." He smiled, his eyes heavy-lidded as he lowered his mouth to give her a long, lazy kiss. She lifted her arms above her head, stretching leisurely beneath him and sighing as his lips moved over hers.

He gave her one final soft kiss and pulled back to look her over. "We're going to have to come up with some arrangement here… because I need to do this again."

Sophie lowered her arms, hugging his neck as she squeezed her thighs around him. He was still inside her and judging by that look on his face he'd be hard again in no time. "Really? You want to do it again, huh?" She could barely keep the pleasure from her voice.

"Yeah." He slipped his hand over her breast, massaging her flesh. "We were in such a hurry I neglected these glorious breasts. I need to make up for that oversight." Her breath caught and her hips lifted beneath him. He smiled. "Are you okay with that?" He dipped his head to draw her nipple into his mouth.

Sophie let out a sound that couldn't decide if it wanted to be a laugh or a moan. "Yeah, I think I can handle that."

[atlasscrumpit]

Moon Knight x Reader

Any day that Steven worked with you was a good day, he loved seeing you smile and even more loved hearing you talk about things you loved.

Your little rambles always kept his day brightened.

But, one day you weren't there.

He asked around and everyone said they hadn't heard from you, he was starting to get worried and planning to look for you before you finally arrived at work.

You ran up to Steven, panting.

"I'm so sorry! I had a fight with my roommate and he kicked me out so I had to pack all of my stuff into my car. I'm so sorry, Steven." You muttered as he looked at you with worry.

"It's alright, love. Are you okay?" He asked noticing you were on the verge of tears.

"Yeah... Well, no. I'm homeless and..." You whispered as you began to cry.

"Can I give you a hug?" He asked as you nodded, he smiled softly and wrapped his arms around you as you cried into his shirt.

"You can come stay with me if you'd like. I've got a pretty big apartment and it's only me a-and my other personalities..." He muttered making you chuckle softly.

"Are you sure? Wouldn't Marc and Jake be angry?" You asked as he looked down at you and gently wiped away your tears.

"Well, if they are angry I'll deal with them. But, I don't think they'll mind. Plus, it'll make getting to work a lot easier." He said as you smiled and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thank you so much, Steven. You're a hero." You said making him smile in return.

"Here, I'll give you my key. You go get settled in and I'll cover for you here." He said as you looked at him in shock.

"Really? Are you sure, Steven?" You asked making him nod.

"Of course, you've had a hard day and you need time to rest."

--

When Steven's shift was over it was almost 6pm and he decided to bring some take out home with him.

When he got back to his apartment he found you fast asleep in his bed.

"I might be able to get used to this." He heard Marc say as he placed the dinner down.

"No romancing her, Marc. She's fragile right now." Steven said as he walked over to you and gently shook you awake.

"Love, I've got some dinner if you're hungry." Steven said as you slowly woke up and looked at him, he felt himself blush when you looked so happy to see him.

"Oh, thank you, Steven." You muttered before getting out of bed.

"I hope you don't mind that I slept in your bed... I probably should've asked." You said as he smiled softly.

"I don't mind one bit, love. Come on let's have some dinner." He said as you joined him at the small dining table, he brought out your favourite take away.

"Hell yes!" You said making him chuckle.

"I always made a point to remember your favourite food." He replied making you blush a little.

"You're so kind to me."

--

It wasn't long until you met Marc, he seemed to have feelings for you.

"So, I was thinking. Instead of you finding an apartment, why don't you just permanently live with us? I mean it's pretty dangerous to look for a new apartment and a new roommate, the last thing I'd want is for you to be in any danger." Marc said as you sat next to him on the couch.

"I don't know, Marc. I don't want to intrude on your lives." You muttered as he turned to full face you.

"You aren't intruding, Y/N. We all want you to stay here." He replied, placing his hand on your thigh as you moved away a little.

"Sorry... I just don't like touching. But, maybe it could be a good idea to stay here." You muttered as he felt a streak of jealousy.

Whenever Steven touched you, you blushed and moved closer.

"It's okay, it's just a subconscious thing I do. I should've asked." He replied as you smiled at him.

"What about the sleeping situation? You've been very kind letting me have your bed, but you guys can't sleep on the couch all the time." You muttered making Marc pause and think for a moment.

"Well, we could always get a bigger bed and share it. We could get one of those California king beds or whatever they call it." He suggested as you looked at him.

"That wouldn't be a bad idea. Are you sure you would be okay being in the same bed all the time? I mean, I used to sleep with two brothers in a double bed so sharing is in my blood." You replied making him chuckle softly.

"I don't mind one bit."

--

Two weeks had passed and everything was going surpringly well, you all fell into a good routine.

But, Marc and Jake were slowly getting a bit forceful with you.

You loved being affectionate with Steven, you even cuddled him in bed, but whenever it was Marc or Jake you would back away.

Marc had had enough of it one day and he snapped.

When he tried to wrap his hand around your waist you backed away, he never wanted to get angry with you but sometimes he couldn't control it.

He grabbed your hips and pushed you against the counter, making you look at him.

"Why do you keep pulling away!?" He shouted as you looked at him in fear.

"You are so loving with Steven yet whenever it's Jake or me you pull away. Why!?" He shouted, gripping your hips rougher.

"Because I'm scared!" You shouted back as he looked at you in confusion.

His grip loosened and you looked at him with tears in your eyes.

"You and Jake are powerful and...ruthless and it scares me. I'm scared you'll hurt me, which you're doing right now. I know you have a temper and I'm so scared that you'll hurt me...or force me to do things." You muttered as he looked down at you.

"Y/N... Oh, God. I'm so sorry I snapped, I'm so sorry. I would never ever force you into anything and neither would Jake. I just... I got so jealous. You're so beautiful and kind and I wanted you to show me affection like you did to Steven. I should've just talked to you instead of getting angry. I'm so sorry." He whispered, his hands still lightly on your hips.

"It's okay, I should've talked to you as well and I shouldn't have judged either of you without knowing you." You replied making him smile softly.

"Do you think you can forgive me?" Marc whispered as he noticed you leaning in closer, he did the same as his eyes met yours.

"Yes, I forgive you." You muttered before slowly leaning forward and kissing him softly, one hand stayed on your hip and the other went into your hair as he kissed you passionately but slowly.

He pulled away and smiled, seeing a blush on your face.

"I knew I could get you to blush." He said making you chuckle and look away.

He held your chin in his fingers and kissed you again, this time more desperate.

He lifted you up onto the counter and you wrapped your legs around his waist while you made out in the kitchen.

"Let's see how much more I can make you blush."

[dekkiidan]

hiii you've mentioned before that mohs lives with tuff, and in your sketchbook doodles post, you said "TUFF MY BELOVED". do you have any specific headcanons or character traits in mind for tuff? ::0 and are they roommates with mohs just out of necessity, or did they Want to share a place?

Ooh, this was such a fun ask to wake up to! I've left a little ramble above the cut to do with my canon musings; and anything to do with OC interaction I have popped below. I will also maybe compile a list of headcanons to post separately if this gets too long.

I've always loved Tuff, I think since I saw them in my first ever loop, I was curious as to why they would choose to work in the mines so close to something (The Zero-G Cave) that gives them so much anxiety. I ended up thinking on it for a little while as I was helplessly spinning around the "broken satellite" and it made me think they're actually pretty brave to be willing to work in such close proximity to something that makes them feel physically sick. I'm a sucker for that "hard-work and determination can overcome anything" attitude (even if, in Tuff's case, it may not come across as enthusiastically as other characters who follow this trope), so I was immediately intrigued, haha! Because of this, I wonder if maybe they were a tutor to Riebeck for a little while whilst our archaeologist was in training. It's cute to imagine the pair sat at the gaping maw of the entrance to the Zero-G pit, legs dangling over the edge (it's scary!), as Tuff talks to Riebeck about how it's okay to feel afraid, and sometimes even feel physically sick. But if you love something and want to pursue it, you shouldn't let that fear get in the way.

I also think they look really visually interesting. What happened to their ear? Heck, what happened to both of their ears? They have way more tears than your standard hearthian. They also have a really unique facial model - with their ear placement putting them at around the same age as Hatchy or Marl - but they certainly look a lot older. I never really came up with a reason for this, perhaps they just look a bit older because they're always so worried, or they don't get enough sun because they're working a lot of the time, haha! To be honest, I think they are a bit older, but I'm not sure by how much. I'd like for them to be able to tutor Riebeck a little as aforementioned, so they would have to at least have a few years on them I suppose!

Also, look at their eyes! They're so pretty.

Anyhow, in regard to their situation with Mohs - this came about thanks to a conversation with my good friend Merry. Mohs needed a place to live, and they couldn't just live in the museum, haha! So, I had a think.

The village is relatively small and I think that most hearthians likely cabin share due to the communal nature of their species anyway. Some folks hop from cabin to cabin depending on how they feel, whilst others prefer to have a more settled and firm "home" - and Mohs is one of those folks. They enjoy having roots in the ground and somewhere they can return to after a hard day's work, so to speak.

Their living situation is, I guess the best way to describe it would be "professional"? Like two working professionals sharing a home together. They get on well with each other, are polite and courteous, occasionally have dinner together and chat about how their days have been - but due to the nature of their work, it's not uncommon for one to be home and the other away. Basically, I sat down and had a think about the kind of hearthian Mohs would appreciate in their life when they were ready to make a little space for themself in a cabin, and I thought - someone who is a little older than them, someone who is knowledgeable about geology, and someone that Mohs feels safe and comfortable around. Hornfels and Gossan ticked those boxes, but as Mohs already works closely with Hornfels at the museum for the Outer Wilds Geological Survey stuff, it felt a bit odd to have them also living together. I like Gossan, and so does Mohs, but honestly the likelihood of Mohs willingly hanging out with Gossan, even as a hatchling, is low due to their fear of flying.

So! I settled on Tuff, hehe! I just think they're neat. They're gentle and kind, have a sensible head on their shoulders and are well versed in earth sciences, so it just made sense!

Man, this answer got long, if you read all the way to the end, thank you! I'm sorry my brain has so many thoughts about these funky little blue aliens, haha! Thank you for your ask! >w<

This got too long, LMAO. I'll compile a list of Tuff headcanons and post it separately because Tuff needs more appreciation and love!

[catoz0]

Hey its me! I have returned with more rambling nonsense and I am very glad for it

So this is yet another Au that I guess I will call the roommates AU???? The general gist for this is that Henry finds William post Springtrapping and agrees to rebuild and revive him in exchange for William helping him undo all the harm he has caused. Not really having much of a choice but also incapable of really ever saying no to Henry he agrees and as such roommates!!!! There is some other finer details but this thing is already way too fucking long already so lets just get into it

One last thing, I have a Patreon!!! So if you like my stuff and wanna help out you can support me over there. I am not able to fully articulate how much help it would be but regardless thank you

patreon.com/user?u=84853314

Enjoy!

Tap Tap Tap

When Henry starts to think on it almost absentmindedly he starts to equate the tap,tap,tap of Williams feet as the sounds of a dog patrolling its territory

The click of claws on tile

When Henry had first discovered William slumped in that backroom he had known that the damage was bad, when they came to the agreement Williams rotted hand encircling his he knew it would be difficult

As if trying to snatch someone form the jaws of death would ever be an easy endeavour.

Remnant had done alot of the work but some parts had simply been unsalvageable and had to be replaced with metal

William hadn't seemed too upset about it but Henry hadn't expected him to be.

One of the main problem areas had been anything small, teeth fingers toes.

Henry wasn't sure why

Maybe it was like working with clay?

Once as Henry is doing a generalised repair he had leaned over to check something when William had reached out and touched him trailing his hands over his left arm

His metal arm

Henry hadn't been able to do anything but go stock stiff

“What a pair we make darling” William had rasped

After that Henry had disconnected his arm for three days before begrudgingly reattaching it when he realised how annoying it was to do everything and purposefully handicapping himself to prove a non-existent point wasn't worth it

However despite everything William wasn't the worst roommate he had ever had

The first time Henry had returned home from work so exhausted that he couldn't see straight and discovered that William had not only done all the chores but made dinner he had been able to do nothing but stare.

The smile that William had given him when he meekly said thank you had almost been more unnerving than the act itself

Since then William had continued doing it and when he finally stopped procrastinating talking to him about it William had said that it was only fair.

Henry was currently the only source of income for obvious reasons, anytime he broached the topic of William going outside for anything he would simply stare at him until he trailed off and dropped it. He really should get around to checking to see if William was ever legally declared dead or was simply just missing.

Williams casual helpfulness wasn't the only thing that was unnerving though

William stares

This actually took quite a long time for Henry to figure out due to his avoidance of the cryptid he had invited into his apartment. Being constantly plagued with thoughts about how this was all a huge mistake and how William was absolutely just going to stab him in his sleep, its due to this that Henry only notices when he begins to get somewhat used to his new roommate

So the first time that Henry notices it is when he glances up in response to the fridge clunking to find William gazing at him from across the room

The most disquieting fact about the entire thing was that it wasn't even like an out of the corner of his eye kind of thing no dead on eyes FULLY unblinking. NOT helped by how bright his eyes are so it kinda feels like he has a pair of high beams aimed at him

What does Henry in that moment, headphones on sketchpad on his thighs?

Nothing

Well not entirely true he actually blushes so hard he almost vomits and hurriedly looks back down

He sits there for two hours without drawing anything.

William doesn't move or acknowledge it once.

Since then Henry has noticed it alot but he cant quite parse out a pattern other than often, and he's equally at a loss to discern a reason for why he's doing it

He eventually decides that he's doing it to unnerve him

His mind occasionally starts to whisper other possible reasons but he swiftly shuts them down

Until comes the night where he cant anymore

Its important to note that Henry is an incredibly deep sleeper to the point of constant inconvenience, granted this is due in part to his tendency to stay up for two days straight before crashing into a state of unconsciousness so deep that nothing can reach him

In his more idle thoughts he hopes its what death is like but after seeing William he doesn't have much hope.

There was more than one occasion where William had come to fetch him for a meeting and then spend so long to rouse him that he would wind up being late for said meeting

Eventually William would enter the room see he was sleeping and simply turn around and walk out.

With that in mind he isn't quite sure what made him awaken that night but he does

Henrys sleepy half awake mind registers weight and warmth without assigning any meaning to it other than that its pleasant, pleasant enough that he almost goes right back to sleep

But then there's the puff of hot air on his neck and he goes from half asleep to wide awake as he FINALLY connect the dots.

William is in the bed with him

His first panicked instinct to wriggle away proves fruitless as William had fully wound himself around him, his head shoved into the junction between his neck and shoulder. His struggling doesn't even cause William to stir, his panic only increases when he remembers that he doesn't have his arm connected.

Rational thought completely evicted Henry leans down and sinks his teeth into the bridge of Williams nose.

THAT finally gets him his reaction as William shoves him away

Henry hits the floor and scrambles to his feet exceptionally fast considering the lack of arm and stares at the figure on his bed heart rabbiting so fast that he can scarcely think of anything else.

William is still as death, stuck halfway prone with blood running down his face, his eyes are as they always are and that, that maddeningly familiar detail cracks something in Henry

“William” he bites out with alot of effort “What the Fuck!”

William as FUCKING always simply stares

Henry lets out a string of unintelligible hisses before stomping over and awkwardly jamming his feet into his shoes, before turning and awkwardly patting down his discarded jeans for his wallet and keys.

He really needs to get his fucking arm

This of all things is what spurs William into action “Where are you going?” he asks uncertainty

“Out” he hisses from where he's still crouched on the floor

He's startled by William reaching out to touch him

Henry shoots up from the floor, teeth bared

“William I swear to FUCK”

“Please don't go” the words are hushed and said with a desperation that unnerves him more than anything else. But the anger ever present is still there and still hot

“Why not?” he says breathlessly, a bared smile crosses his face “ unless you want to somehow explain?”

Williams face has turned to stone “ Explain what?” he says lowly.

Henry almost laughs but he instead walks over grabs his arm off the nightstand and turns to storm out.

“I dreamed of you” William says

Henry stops and stares

William is standing in the center of the room illuminated by the moonlight falling in from the window. As he watches he raises a hand to run it through his hair, a nervous tick that Henry hadn't seen from him in so long that he has to close his eyes against the rush of nostalgia so sweet it tastes like poison.

His gaze is fixed on the floor as he continues

“In that room, in the dark time ceased to be real” he says lowly “but” he hesitates for a second “sometimes I would dream”

Henry knows where this is going but he cant bring himself to say anything

“Sometimes I would dream of my children” as he says this a smile so soft and dreamlike crosses his face.

Henry looks away

“But in others” he walks forward as he says it “ I would dream of you, but in all my dreams you were always unchanging”

He's standing before him now and when he reaches out to touch him Henry doesn't move away

He traces his fingers over his face “ Sometimes in moments of quiet, I begin to think that none of this quite real, that I will blink and be staring at the same yellowed wall”

Henry finally raises his gaze to his partners

“ In all of them however, you were never within reach and never quite so warm”