#also love reader in this

[calebrity]

separation anxiety

⤷ caleb experiences a rut after a long time, and it just so happens that you’re in his path.

cw. 18+ smut, hybrid! caleb, knotting, dubcon if you squint, breeding, obsessive/possessive behavior, perv caleb, fem human! reader, ruts, size difference, also a lil breeding, 3.5k words because i physically struggle to write smut without a preamble, reader is ovulating and it triggers his rut this time for whatever reason

an. saw this trope going around & wanted to try it <33 he’s got that DAWG in him 💪 also i cant decide if hybrid caleb gives german shepherd vibes or samoyed vibes…. that moments post lives rent free in my mind tho idk (>_<)

𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔, 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔, & 𝒓𝒆𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅! (๑´ `๑)♡

Caleb would say he hates you for the time you’re gone, but it’d be a big fat lie. His love for you, big and bursting in his chest, deepens in the quiet windows where you’re present at work or running errands throughout Linkon before returning home to him.

There’s a permanence of you in his mind and being. He wants it no other way.

His devotion for you doesn’t necessarily drown him- no, you’re always there with a lifering waiting- but it certainly sweeps him up and threatens to.

He gets a bit ahead of himself sometimes, he’s aware of that; energetic, bulging at the seams with vigor; whether it’s an integral part of his personality or just a consequence of his breed, the pound he came from never quite knew. Your Gran never figured that out, either, and for as sweet and trying as she was, she soon realized she couldn’t foster him for long.

Because he was a big boy, hungry for attention and wired to please, well-meaning but oft over involved with personal space— and he brought a loaded package that your Gran just couldn’t sign her name off on, not after a few months, anyway. She tried her best before nudging him into your care, because she sure as hell wasn’t about to give him up to that squalid pound or the streets again- and besides, the mutt liked her granddaughter; all those visits she paid throughout the summer obviously endeared Caleb to her, and quickly.

You admit, it’s a mite difficult to juggle between long days at work, little tasks that drag you from point to point throughout Linkon, and your own personal life on top of caring for a hybrid stowed away in your shoebox apartment— but your grandmother was all but sapped of her energy then, turning to you for aid although she seldom ever did, and you’d always lend a hand where you could.

The mutt- Caleb, is his name (and you call it fondly even as he’s pawing at your thighs for attention or drooling on your collar)- has grown on you considerably in the past half year, anyway.

You won’t let him down or leave him at the curb. He’s yours. The red collar you bought him says as much, printed with your number on a silver plate, and he wears it not because you make him but because he’s proud of it.

He’s a good boy, he is. He always has been and for that you’re thankful.

Except, this week he’s… different.

As of a few days ago, it’s like he’s been testing the waters- and your patience- on just how far he can go before you tell him off or say bad dog. He must find them warm because he’s just been diving deeper as the week progresses.

You don’t know what to do. He’s oddly aggressive. It’s not rare at all for him to follow you all around your apartment, but he’s foregone the very last shred of respect for your personal space and nips when you try to push him away. Not hard enough to actually hurt- the yip you make is more surprised than anything when he pulls you back in and licks at the small red patch- but you look wounded at it.

Because Caleb doesn’t bite— he just doesn’t.

He wraps you up in seemingly endless embraces and breathes your smell in until he’s dizzy, laughing into your neck like a giddy child. He does this every time you try to leave for work and he’s made you late for it.

Maybe it’s just because you’re ovulating and a little hormonal, but it makes you quite sour and the mood stays even when you return in the afternoon. He’s never liked when you’re gone, sure, but he’s always been there to see you off at the door with a pout as you scratch behind his ear- more or less tame about it.

Your patience really frays at the odd uptick in his possessiveness, though. It’s hurtful.

You’ve always treated him less like a pet- a hybrid- and more like a friend, and you feel quite indignant for it when he growls and tells you that he hates the smell of other men on you, hearing none of your excuses that it’s ‘just coworkers’, glaring at you like some brainless extension of him. You feel less like a person and more like an object, a streetlamp in which he emerges from the shadows for just to piss on to show it belongs to him.

He’s touchy. Snippy. Glued to your side at all times. It’s concerning and frustrating and confusing all at once.

By the fifth day mark, on Friday night, you’re tuckered out by it and don’t question where he is when you return home early from a shift and he’s, uncharacteristically, not there to greet you.

A red collar however, laid on the floor, its tag glittering under dim hallways lights, strikes you as both curious and unsettling.

He never takes that off. No- says it’s his way of showing you and the whole world that he belongs to you, and— have you been too impatient with him lately? Brusque? Maybe you’re a little hormonal but it’s no cause to get short with him, even when he’s acting up, and what if he no longer wants you as his owner—

A gasp.

You find him in your bedroom, humping your pillow, yowling as he comes undone- unawares- and the walls spin as you nearly faint.

You drop your purse. “Caleb!” You shriek, and a visible shiver rolls down his spine as he turns around.

“Bad dog!”

✦

You sleep on it.

Well, you wash your sheet and your pillowcases- and then you sleep on it.

Maybe you overreacted. If anything, you should be grateful for what you walked in on because otherwise, he wouldn’t have known how to tell you he’s been going through a bit of a hot phase- the first of his you’ve experienced- and doesn’t know how to control himself.

You blush just thinking about it, shame knocking in your chest as your heart beats heavy. You feel awful for walking in on him for a number of reasons. One of them being he came all over your bed- and his tummy- and you had to clean both up through furious tears as you peeled your covers off the mattress and pointed him off in the direction of the bathroom, telling him to run the faucet and quick.

A pass of guilt, the fear of you being angry with him, made its round across his kicked expression but he held off on arguing.

For the first documented time in the whole week, Caleb appeared mellow- not agitated, restless, or tense- and rather crestfallen, and you noted it only vaguely as you irately turned on the washer.

Now, it’s in the forefront of your brain.

Well, if he’s been going through some kind of rut lately, it only makes sense he’d be all kinds of pent up, and that his release (albeit in an inconvenient way and place) would provide some relief.

It’s closer to noon when you finally exit your bedroom and meet him at the sofa- the same one you’d all but banished him to last night. He prefers to spend his nights with you, either curled up at your side or splaying his full weight over your back- a breed-relative habit, you’re sure. You’ve heard of some other kinds who enjoy a room to themselves or do just fine with the couch, on their lonesome— But not Caleb.

He looks tired but perks up when he hears you patter down the hall, violet eyes lighting when you timidly take a seat.

With a bit of hesitation, he inches closer until you sheepishly wave a hand and he barrels into your arms.

“Ah- Caleb-“

Before you can even apologize for your jumping the gun last night, he beats you to the punch. “M’ sorry. You don’t hate me for it, do you?” He sighs into your collar and you shiver, “I wish you could understand what it feels like- I wouldn’t have done it if it was somethin’ I could control, I hope you realize that.”

You swallow, digesting his words as you belatedly place a hand on his head to pet. He positively melts. “Y-Yeah,” you mumble back. “It’s okay. I actually wanted to say sorry too. I- I didn’t understand what was going on…”

A deep groan looses from his throat, his chest swelling with content as you itch that spot behind the furry ears say upright on his head. They give a few twitches as he leans against you and wraps his muscular arms around your middle, resting his chin by your shoulder.

“It’s my fault, though, not yours. I didn’t know how to tell you- I was worried you’d just end up scared’a me, or…”

His pause instills interest in you. Your fingers smooth back his brown locks, mussed from fitful sleep, and he sighs. “Or what?” You press softly.

You pull him back just enough to get a look at him, his cheekbones almost shiny with a dusting of pink. His thick brows furrow together.

“Or that you’d leave,” he whispers.

Your eyes widen. You lasso your arms around his neck and pull him to you, your head slotting above his shoulder as his fingers quickly move to support the position, one hand perched at your thigh and the other braced at your side.

“Nonsense,” you grumble at his ear, a bit angry at the suggestion. “I’d never leave you.”

Something hard, then, prods at your middle- too fleshy to be something in either of your pockets- and you stiffen at the realization as it comes a beat too late.

Caleb’s voice is breathy at your ear, low, his tail thumping on the cushion. “Yeah?” He murmurs, a pang of heat stirring in your belly at the sound. Suddenly aware, you gently go to push at his broad chest but he stops you with an imploring look- although the desire, brewing in dilated pupils, isn’t lost on you- and musters a pout.

It looks out of place, the wholesome gaze marred by hunger as it reshapes his puppyish look.

“Even when I am no better than a bad dog?”

Your brow quirks, “I didn’t mean it,” you whisper, wide-eyed as his eyes bore into yours. Every micro expression you make is being catalogued and noted with utmost care, his pink tongue darting out to wet his chapped lips as they grow dry.

“It’s okay if you did,” he murmurs back. “I’m just glad I have you around to remind me of my place…” Long, slim fingers reach up and you watch, unseeingly, as they stroke your cheek, his other hand creeping dangerously close to the waistband of your sleep shorts.

He chuckles, but the humor wanes quickly.

“Otherwise, I’d always be misbehaving. Do you even know what you do to me?” His voice is meaningful, torrid, as he draws in and the tip of his nose brushes with yours. You can’t find it in you to move as your thighs- the ones he slithers a singleminded hand in between- begin to roil with unexpected warmth.

You plant a hand to his chest, shying away, “C-Caleb-“

“Don’t worry,” he says sweetly, “M’ not gonna hurt you. I just….” He lets out a sigh, long and perhaps just a bit exaggerated- but it has the intended effect on you. You purse your lips and feel a trace of guilt twist in your heart.

“You drive me crazy. Y-Your smell- I don’t know why this is happening, either. Honestly? I haven’t had a rut in a couple years. But this…”

Caleb lets out a soft noise of pleasure, lending his full weight to you when he breathes you in and shakes.

When he speaks next, his words come out raspy and so low you hardly register them as his breaths grow labored- they’re all you can hear as the living room space shrinks down to just him and the knuckles that dare to dip into your panties.

“This is just too unfair. You won’t leave me hangin’, pretty,… w-will you?” Breathy. With an undeniable streak of need. You can’t miss the lust that usurps the softer parts of him and makes him look less puppyish and cheerful and more wolfish, calculating.

And, well, when he puts it like that, how could you?

✦

He doesn’t fuck you on the couch. He takes you to your bed and fucks you there like a lover would.

He fucks you deep and fast- to his credit, he doesn’t hurt you, staying true to his word, but the possibility of bruises becomes a nearer thing when he folds your legs back and his grasp becomes constricting, plunging in and out of your cunt with rapt focus. Indigo eyes glow with something feral, like you’ve given him no choice but to claim his ownership over you through sloppy kisses and clinking teeth as he pounds into you, driven him into a corner- but his touch turns worshipful when he presses his forehead to yours and moans.

“Ah- y-you feel so good, so tight,” he compliments, words almost slurred. His pupils expand and he looks no different than a drunken, babbling man, his cheeks a rosy red.

His murmurs are wet against your lips as they graze and mush with his, Caleb’s face so close to yours that his lashes tickle your brow as he gawks at you, so entranced by whatever it is he’s seeing to look away.

A fluffy tail sways unevenly behind him and touches your leg on occasion, almost like it’s trying to curl around you, prickling and eager. Every part of him gravitates to you. You’re the ground beneath his feet. Fertile land.

“And you’re all mine, okay? Nobody else’s. I want you to wear my scent- to carry me with you no matter where you go. You have to promise me you will- mmph- That sound good-?

“C-Caleb—“

You groan when he stuffs himself deeper inside and you swear you feel his length throb inside your walls, stretching. The veins running along his shaft carve out a new pathway in you, one special and just for him, as his balls- heavy and fat, with a hell of a lot to give- slap against your ass. Slick oozes out from the squelching seam of you, coating his thick cock but you still struggle to accomodate his size despite the lubrication.

He’s made to make you feel as if you’re losing your mind. You snatch your jaw with your own hand to keep the flurry of high-pitched sounds from spilling out lest they embarrass you, but he shoos it away and cuffs your wrists with a hand splayed over them.

“Nah- I wanna hear you, baby. You can’t keep holdin’ out on me like this... I’m giving you my all right now, so it should be pretty obvious that you can do the same, yeah?”

A mewl punches out from your lungs half a second later and he seems quite contented at that. He sighs, closing his eyes, saying,

“I’ve been good all along. Can’t you play the part, too? I just want you to see how much I really love you,” his confession is by no means considered casual what with the passion in which its conveyed, but you can’t help but feel it’s a little sudden, said a little too quickly, and you wonder if he means what he says or if the rut is responsible for all these novel, amorous feelings in him.

I mean, he’s probably too wrapped up in the moment to even contemplate his own admissions as they all spew out—

“Caleb, too big—“ you gasp, cutting him off, and he lets out a strangled kind of noise when your walls clamp around him.

Holyfuck holyfuck holyfuck do it again, he wants to say, suffocate me, but nothing comes out and he realizes after a long second that his vision has whited completely. He can’t see anything; he’s in a fuzzy, dazzling world with the blinders on and all he can smell and feel is you- your scent, sugar sweet and about as inviting as a barstool pulled out, envelopes him and he can’t breathe. Can’t speak.

He fucks into you with reckless abandon, huffs you in like it’s his final breaths, and then lets it all go without care for anything else. Far as he’s concerned, everything he knows is defined by you. This is a give and take relationship: he actually gives a damn about your opinion of him and takes all you have to offer.

He’s in love, puppyish and clumsy but fuck you lead the way and lead him on.

“Shh, I know,” he rasps out, steaming up your neck like a fogged window pane as he insinuates himself there. Your whole body feels like a furnace, burning up for him as he opens you up and tucks himself inside.

“I know it’s big, but you gotta be ready for-“ he clips his sentence short, thinking better of it.

He wants to warn you of his impending knot- the one that’ll no doubt leave you yelping and writhing away from him- you certainly deserve as much of a foreword to it, but part of him is just so terrified you’ll reject him or deny him the priviledge of shoving it inside you and fuck he can’t have that.

Caleb’s nothing if not loyal. He’s also nothing if not selfish. That’s always been a wriggling bug he’s tried to stomp out but it remains in the baser part of him, only amplified by the intense rut that came right out of the blue.

He wants you singing his name and bonded to him (or as much of a bond the two of you can form), and so that’s what he’ll get.

He’ll apologize later, and you will forgive him. So all’s fine.

“Y-You can take it,” is the simpler thing he settles on, and you let it pass, because between the fat cockhead splitting you apart deliciously and the sweet, somewhat perturbing nothings he gushes at your ear, you’re deaf to most of everything.

But when you come- unexpected and sharp, overwhelming your senses as your hips ruck up and he has to pin you down in place and ride it out with you as you cream around him- the scream you let out rings in your ears and so does his ferocious grunt. It’s loud and you’re so numb as seconds pass that feel like eons; pointed teeth teasing at the squishy chunk of your shoulder, invoking a buried sense of alarm.

And then he’s biting down hard- not just nipping- the pleasure thankfully driving off the pain as he ploughs inside, muffling a string of curses as he picks up his pace. Caleb gets sloppier and sloppier and then he’s burning white-hot inside you and moaning like a pornstar, pelvis juddering as he comes.

“Mmh- f-fuck- Good girl!” he rewards with half a brain, fucked out into perfect oblivion, and for a second you wonder why his voice sounds more meant for comfort than praise- until you expect him to pull out but he doesn’t, something big and round forming at the base of his cock that has his eyes fluttering back as it pops in. He goes boneless on top of you as every limb of yours stiffens and coils around his broad back.

You scream his name. He shivers.

It feels enough to shatter your mind- the pain searing you, but the ghost of pleasure that creeps up along your nervous system makes you go like jelly beneath him, helpless to whatever he’s got planned for you.

“C-Caleb, you-!”

“Yeah, a bad dog, a bad dog,” he stammers, whimpering at your earlobe, “I know, baby, I know. Just- don’t shut me out, okay? I- It’ll be over soon, just- ah- loosen up around it, okay? It’ll feel so much better that way. Just… hold on to me.”

“I-It hurts-!”

“Ngh, shhh…” He trembles out, shifting to sample a broken mewl from your lips, cupping your jaw with all the love in the world and staring at you as if you told the sun to rise this morning. “Be a good girl and take it, mm? Your pussy’s squeezing me so tight, I think she wants it too, but she has to relax a little first, yeah? Mm… I could give you a whole litter of pups. Give your Gran a bunch of cute lil granbabies to drive her crazy.”

You choke on your own spit, the brunet letting out a near delirious chuckle at the idea and your reaction to it before his brow gives a wince, your walls instinctively trying to push his swollen knot out.

“Wha- Caleb, is that even-?”

“I don’t know,” he kisses your forehead tenderly, his tail giving a heavy, excited thump behind him on the bed as you grab the sheets for dear life and they wrinkle, pinched like your conflicted expression.

“But I’ve been dyin’ to try it out for myself.”

[humanjarvis]

you’d been perplexed when sylus had called you in the middle of the day—which was usually his favorite time to rest. 

“can you come to the base, sweetie?” he’d rasped, voice thick with ruined sleep. “i need your help with something.” 

your confusion is all the more reason for you to head to the base. when you arrive, you let yourself in and greet mephisto with a poke on the beak before hurrying to sylus’s bedroom.

“is something wrong?” you breathe, all but barging in. quickly, you scan the room for threats or intruders before your eyes land on the hulking figure in front of you. 

the hulking figure who’s uncharacteristically hunched over his bed, head bent and looking defeated. 

at your voice, he looks up, and you know him well enough to see the relief and slight embarrassment in his ruby eyes. 

“…sylus?” you ask hesitantly, “what’s going on? you should be sleeping right now.” 

“i was asleep,” he agrees with a slow nod. “and then…i ran into a slight problem,” he responds carefully, eyes flitting forlornly to the side of the bed.

curious, you come to stand beside him, placing a hand on his sagging shoulder. it takes a few seconds, but then, you spot it: trapped between the dark oak boards of his bedframe is a small brilliant red gem, glittering slightly in what little sunlight fills the room. 

“are you able to retrieve it?” he asks quietly. “it must have fallen earlier. when you’re not here…i can’t sleep without it.” 

“o…kay?” you reply, your confusion only doubling. taking a moment to study him, you notice the small pout on his face and stroke his slightly mussed hair. “of course i’ll get it. just a sec.” 

a moment later, you’re kneeling down to stick your hand in the bedframe and wiggling your fingers until you feel the crystal’s cool surface. you pull it out in one fluid motion, blow the dust off, and deposit it into sylus’s waiting hand. flashing you a tired, grateful smile, he immediately places it securely under his pillow. 

“there you go!” you chirp, pleased to have helped him. “but…can i ask something? why didn’t you just fish it out yourself?” 

avoiding your gaze, he clears his throat before he speaks.

“…my hands were too big.”

[sauerhundz]

Just soft!Sylus

Sylus who's been waiting all this time for you and can't stand the thought of being away from you.

Sylus who loves the thought of waking up next to you and holding you close to his body, breathing in your scent he hasn't smelt in so long. Who lays in bed staring at your face that he's memorized a thousand times over.

Sylus who watches you walk around his house in his clothes and it fills him with a sense of possessive pride. The dragon in him pleased to see you returned to his hoard once more.

Sylus who would hand you the world on a platter, if you would only ask. Who would rip his own heart from his chest if it would please you.

Sylus who wants to breathe in everything that you are and consume you from the inside out.

Sylus who can't even stomach the thought of another, because for him there's never been anyone but you.

Sylus who misses you even if you don't remember.

He's still your dragon.

[snail-day]

You swear Geto ends up on his tummy more often than not. Draped across the bed like a lazy cat, broad back rising and falling with each breath, that beautiful inky dark hair tied half-heartedly in a low bun that’s already slipping loose. A few strands fall against his cheek, casting a shadow over those long lashes and the lazy curve of his mouth. He’s so annoyingly pretty like this - it’s tempting to attack him.

And he lets you.

One hand lazily typing on his phone, sending a message to Satoru asking when he’s going to be home. So you pounce while you have the chance. (Not like he'd stop you.)

You straddle him, smack his ass a few times, knead your fingers into the plushest parts of him as if he’s your own personal stress toy. And he just hums with every little assault. Sometimes you bite him, sink your teeth into his shoulder, just to feel the sharp intake of breath, to catch the subtle twitch of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Getting it all out of your system?” he drawls, unbothered, sending a help gif to Satoru. A message that receives a heart react.

You slip cold hands beneath the hem of his dark shirt and he doesn’t even flinch. Just lets out another low hum, close to a purr, amused and warm. His chest is stupidly firm under your palms, radiating heat, and you swear he could flip you over and trap you beneath him without even trying.

But he doesn’t.

Because he’s patient. Always has been, out of the two of you. He knows that eventually, you’ll wear yourself out, that you’ll end up curled right where he wants you. And so he lets you play, lets you giggle and wiggle and bite until your energy runs thin, until you’re soft and sleepy against his side, cheek pressed to his bulky shoulder, body tucked beneath the weight of his arm.

Then he turns. Just his head at first, those wine-dark eyes cutting to you through thick, heavy lashes. That slow, feline smile starts to curl across his lips. He watches you for a moment, messy, warm, half-limp beneath him, still letting out the occasional spurt of giggles.

And then he drawls, voice syrup-slow and honey-soft, just enough to make your stomach flip. For your giggles to turn nervous:

“My turn.”

[yapperingtinaa]

It was way over 9pm, which means it was past your little daughter's bedtime.

And yet not a strand of the white haired toddler could be seen throughout the mansion ever since the Crow Twins started a Hide-and-Seek game right after dinner hours ago.

You were getting worried, agitated even, and it didn't help that Sylus seemed so calm and nonchalant about it. His amused eyes followed your every step as you looked through rooms after rooms to find your little girl.

The deep chuckle he lets out when you stomp your feet in frustration, both hands planting on your hips as you glared up at him, "Are you going to help me find your little fiend or not?"

Sylus gasped dramatically, placing a hand over his chest in a feigned shock as he gazed at you with a pout. "Fiend? My dear, our daughter is an angel."

You rolled your eyes, storming towards him and poking on his chest with an annoyed grumble. "She will be an angel once you put her to bed now or you'll be sleeping on the couch tonight, my darling insufferable husband."

From the upper stairs, Luke and Kieran snickered quietly, not wanting to be the receiving end of your wrath. Their eyes flickered upwards towards the source of your headache then back to Sylus who coincidentally locked sight with the twins with a knowing look.

Luke and Kieran immediately straighten up with a playful salute as they disappear down the hallway, knowing full well you were going to whoop their asses sooner or later when Sylus finally revealed the whereabouts of his mischievous little daughter with an equally playful grin in his tone.

"Have you tried looking up, sweetie?"

You paused, confused until you looked upwards where Sylus oh so casually pointed, specifically towards the large antique chandelier in the middle of the room - where your little daughter was dangling upside down, her dragon tail curled firmly around the metal and her small wings fluttering excitedly as she let out a high-pitched squeal at finally being found by you.

Meanwhile you nearly had a heart attack right then and there.

"SYLUS GET HER DOWN HERE NOWWWW!"

[riiserrie]

the demons kept telling me to make this

the forbidden He would not fucking say that but wouldnt it be funny edition. i do what i want ☝🤓

[shouyuus]

18+, vi-shaped brainrot, mdni

consider college roommate!vi who is the star of the rugby team and just such a fucking jock about it, spends hours at the gym, has pre and post workout drinks and never closes her door when she's blasting rock music, leaves pink hair dye on the bathroom counter, stains the tub when she gets drunk and tries to redo her roots, calls you everything but your name -- sweetcheeks, dollface, cupcake, princess -- isn't shy about her hookups, doesn't even bother to apologize the mornings after another pretty cheerleader scampers out of her room, shrugs and winks when you come out of the bathroom with a tiny thong dangling off your finger that's clearly not either of yours.

college roommate!vi who does kickboxing on the weekends and teaches a kid's course at the local gym. the first time you go there to drop something of her's off as a favor, you can't help but stare at the way she laughs and chases the kids around, so gentle with her movements, so careful, guiding their punches, correcting their forms. and the kids love her -- it's so easy to see, the stars in their eyes, the color high in their cheeks, the way the girls cluster around her legs and the boys are constantly vying for her approval, how she tries her best to divide up her attention equally between all of them.

college roommate!vi who goes real quiet the first time you laugh in her presence, a real laugh, not one of those ha-ha ones you snipe at her when she's trying to get a rise out of you, or teasing you about spending all your time in the library, but one that shakes your shoulders and makes your whole face light up. who has to blink when you cock your head and ask if she's okay bc she was so busy staring at you, wondering about the weird thumping in her chest, the tightness in her throat.

college roommate!vi who's there for you when you're stressed about your dissertation, and she knew you were smart, but listening to you rant about it at 3am in the morning, she's starting to realize that... you're kind of a genius. to be so young and already doing a doctorate in mechanical engineering, and the things you're trying to do -- they could conceivably change the world one day. who freezes when you let your head drop onto her shoulder with a heavy sigh, telling her that you don't know what to do.

"you'll figure it out, cupcake. with a brain like yours? you always do."

college roommate!vi who realizes way too late that she's kinda got it bad for you, bc since when did she start getting used to the sight of you wearing one of her gym shirts in the mornings, making scrambled eggs, rolling your eyes when she yawns her way into the tiny kitchen, leaning an arm against the fridge as she looks you over before asking what's for breakfast. who's gotten so used to falling asleep to the soft clatter of your computer keys that when you leave to visit your family for a weekend, she tosses and turns and can't figure out why it's impossible for her to get to sleep, wanders into sliver of space you guys have crammed a couch and tv into to call a living room, slumping down there to stare at the ceiling, only to feel her fingers graze against something on the ground, who tugs out the thing from under the couch only to find herself staring at one of your bunched up socks with the goofy cartoon cats pattern, and she remembers (suddenly) finding you tearing your room apart the week before trying to look for it because it's your favorite pair of socks.

she finds herself chuckling, letting the sock fall again, but the tightness in her throat doesn't recede, and invisible fingers clench in her gut as she lets her eyes fall shut.

"well... fuck."

college roommate!vi who doesn't know how to act when you get back from your weekend away, when you throw yourself into her arms, your skin still smelling of the crisp fall air and something warm, and spicy -- it reminds her of the holiday market you dragged her to last year, the cinnamon and spiced apples, the hot, mulled wine, the way it burned all the way down when she took the first sip, the way it worked the most darling flush into your cheeks above your pink knit scarf.

"i've got a present for you!" you say, when you finally extricate yourself from her gasp, your arms still around her shoulders, her hands still settled around your waist.

"y-yeah? you didn't have to do that, sweetcheeks --"

"yeah, but i saw this in a store window and -- well i just... it reminded me of you," you say, pulling back to dig something out of your travel bag, and it takes everything in vi not to tug you back into her chest. so instead, she settles for knitting her arms across her front and coughing to hide the fact that her throat's just tightened over itself at your words. you? seeing something and thinking of her? gods, she was so far gone.

"here," you say, pulling a small black box out and offering it to her on the palm of your hand.

vi stares, before reaching out to take it, her eyes flickering up towards your face, only to catch you chewing on your bottom lip in a way that makes her mind frizzle out at the edges. she refocuses her attention on the box -- opening it, she finds a tiny little gemstone, set on a thin golden chain --

"oh..." she breathes, tugging out up to let the gem dangle from between her fingers.

"it -- it's an alexandrite stone," you say, your voice a bit reedy, but you push on as vi continues to stare, "it's uhm -- one of the rarest gemstones in nature, but the cool thing is it changes colors depending on what kind of light it's under --" you reach up to grasp her wrist, her lungs seizing at the contact as you tug her into the incandescent light of the kitchen. "see? it was light blue a second ago, right? and now it's --"

"violet," vi says, her voice soft and disbelieving.

you quickly let go of her wrist, pursing your lips and wrapping your arms around yourself, looking anywhere but at her face.

"yeah -- i just --" your shoulders shrug up as she stares at you, her sky-light eyes wide, "it... it reminded me of... you."

college roommate!vi who, ever since the "necklace incident" (as the rest of the rugby team likes to call it), hasn't really been the same. she's put on the necklace and not taken it off for even a second since the day you gave it to her, but now she doesn't really know how to act around you -- bc did you actually like her? i mean, the necklace is... a pretty big thing to just give someone, but what if you were just giving it to her as a friend? as a roommate? she agonizes over it to the point that the rest of the team are so, so sick of hearing about it, they lovingly tell her to just fuck her and get it over with already. but vi insists that she can't -- it's different with you.

college roommate!vi who's stunned speechless when she gets home to find you staring at your computer, your expression blank. and at first, she thinks something's horribly wrong, but then you're slamming into her, squealing about how you've done it -- your thesis defense went well, that you're a doctor now -- and she's picking you up, spinning you around, buoyed up by the effervescence of your happiness, pressing a kiss to your cheek --

"oh my god, congrats princess! i knew it! i always knew you could do it!"

"thanks -- god, i just -- i've wanted it for so long i... i don't know what to do with myself now that i've got it, y'know?" you say, still suspended in vi's arms, your feet lifted off the ground. it takes a moment before you both seem to realize the position you're in, and vi clears her throat as she lets you down, you looking away, pressing your palms to your cheeks to cool the heat gathering there.

after a brief pause though, vi chuckles, reaching out to slip a finger beneath your chin, tilting your face up towards her's.

"c'mon, put on one of those pretty dresses of yours. we're going out."

"out?"

"yeah. to celebrate."

you blink as vi pulls her hand away.

"but it's like... 4:30 on a tuesday."

vi cocks an eyebrow, a smirk twitching at her lips, "yes, and? c'mon cupcake --" her eyes catch yours and instead of looking away, she holds it this time, something flickering behind their powder-blue depths that makes your skin prickle with heat, "i'll show you a good time."

college roommate!vi who takes you to one of her favorite clubs, tugging you through the crowd, the jostling bodies, holding your hand in her's, trying really hard not to think too much about it (or the fucking insane little black and pink miniskirt you put on), telling herself that it's just to make sure she doesn't lose you in the crowd, grinning when someone knocks you into her chest, and she finds her arm wrapped around your waist, fingers scrunching the material of your skirt, your palms splayed on her chest.

she buys the both of you a round of shots, watching with a hitched breath as your tongue flickers out to lick the salt daubed on your wrist, the way your eyes squeeze shut when you take the shot and your lips wrap around the lime slice, tries to ignore the twist in her gut like a turning blade, the way her whole body flushes with heat, the dull ache caught between her legs when you wipe your lips, your eyes bright and a little blown out, your cheeks flushed with color as you giggle and lace your hands with hers again --

"come on! i wanna dance!"

college roommate!vi who is just drunk enough to let herself dance with you, to let herself lean in to the way you're twisting your body, fingers in your hair, your eyes closed, an indulgent smile on your lips, who let's herself imagine (just for a second), pulling you in to kiss you, how soft your lips might feel on hers, how silken your skin might be beneath her hands, who tries not to groan when you lean in closer, link your arms behind her neck, press your whole body against her's, who grips your hips just a little too tight, grinds you against her, sees the way you gasp, your eyelids fluttering as you eyes glaze out --

college roommate!vi who can't help how she groans at the sight, tugs you in by the back of your neck to mash her lips to yours, crushing you to her as she kisses you (finally, finally) and you let yourself he kissed -- your fingers tangle in her choppy pink hair, and she swears you make this sweet, mind-bending whimpering noise in the back of your throat that drives her up the wall and right over it --

but when she pulls back, she sees the look on your face -- shocked and little confused, but you're drunk, and she doesn't wanna do this with you -- at least, not like this.

college roommate!vi who pulls away, only to have you follow her all the way out the club, into this small dark alley, her shaking her head, feeling a strange, saltwater prickle at the back of her throat as she says --

"shit -- sorry. i didn't mean to -- i just -- you were just so -- and i -- fuck, i didn't --"

"vi -- vi -- no, violet, listen to me --"

it's her full name on your lips that makes her pause, makes her turn to find you walking towards her. your lipstick is smeared, your hair a waterfall mess around your shoulders as you corner her against the rough brick of the club's exterior. faintly, she can still feel the pulse of music reverberating from inside the club, but out here, the air is damp and cold and quiet.

"i -- i'm sorry i kissed you," she says, her voice cracking over the syllables. she bites her lips as you frown up at her, your eyes searching her's before you let out a soft sigh and a scoff.

"well. i'm sorry you feel that way. cause..." you take half a step back, your arms curling around yourself before you glance back at her with a hard, determined light to your eyes as you press back into her space, your cheeks bright with color.

"i was really kinda hoping you'd do it again."

vi's breath punches out of her chest; it takes a few seconds of sputtering before she gathers herself enough to speak.

"wait -- what? you..."

you crinkle your nose, rolling your eyes, "i -- i thought i was making it obvious -- i mean, with the whole necklace thing -- it doesn't take a genius to figure how i feel about --"

you squeak as she pins you against the opposite wall, her lips seeking yours out, her fingers rucking up the material of your top, making you hiccup as they tease under the wire-rim of your bra.

college roommate!vi who can barely control herself when you sink your fingers into her hair, tugging lightly as you gasp out a breath, her lips tracking fire along the side of your neck, intent on making you whimper again, just the way she likes, grazing her teeth along your collarbone even as you jerk at her hair --

"vi -- fuck -- vi, not here --" you swallow around the burgeoning desire, and when you glance down to find her looking up at you, her eyes so dark they're almost black, you fight back a groan, cup your palms around her cheeks and pull her up for a long kiss.

"let's --" you suck in a breath even as vi whines at the loss your lips, "let's go home --"

"holy fuck," vi swears, somehow managing to pull herself back just far enough to taste the misty night air. she stares at you, your chest heaving, a daisy-chain of hickeys blossoming along the long expanse of your neck, your makeup good and smeared, your hair a mess, your eyes bright and so full of love as they flicker over her face.

vi smiles, helpless to the loud, uncertain drumming of her heart as she says, "y-yeah -- let's get you home, princess."

college roommate!vi who barely waits for the elevator door to close in your building before she's got you shoved up against the wall, hoisting you up, her fingers seeking out the softness of your skin, tugging up your shirt, her other hand dipping into the waistband of your skirt, her mouth open and hungry as she kisses your neck, bites down at the junction of your shoulder just to hear you moan.

college roommate!vi who's way too good at undoing your bra with one hand the second you get back to your apartment (if you were more coherent, you might've thought it hot), the door slamming closed, the pair of you toppling onto the room, breathy laughs and panting whines as she hoists you into her arms and carries you to your bedroom, laying you down so gently, kissing up your stomach till you're whimpering, your own hands pulling your top off your body, leaving you in an undone-bra and a miniskirt, your cheeks flushed. you push yourself up onto your elbows, watching as vi peaks up at you from between your legs, shooting you a wink before she's tugging down your skirt and panties all in one, an eyebrow ticking up at the lil lacey thing you had on beneath the skirt all along.

"all this for me, pretty?"

you press your lips, eyes cutting away as she looks between the bra dangling off your shoulders and the panties caught round your ankles. her lashes flutter.

"oh, a matching set," she cocks her head, running her palms up your thighs, pinning them open again as you try to press them closed, feeling suddenly much too seen (bc you'd be straight up lying if you hadn't put it on in the vague hope that the night might evolve into something like this).

she clicks her tongue, shaking her head with a cocky, shit-eating grin that makes your heart skitter in your chest. her drops a light kiss to your inner thigh, savoring in the way you whine again.

"nope, keep 'em open princess."

college roommate!vi who takes her time with you, bc rly she's been waiting way too long for this, has imagined it one too many times, but nothing can compare to the way your hips jerk up against her mouth, the way your fingers tighten in her hair every time she licks up the seam of your cunt, the way your breath catches on her name over and over again, like you can't quite get the word out even though it's just a single syllable. she groans against you, too lost in the taste of you to care about what a mess she must look like, with her tongue fucking into your desperate hole, her nose nudging your clit, her fingers digging crescent moon marks into your hipbones.

she's sure that if this were an old-fashioned cartoon, there'd be big, balloon hearts popping out of her eyes. she can't get enough of you like this -- moaning her name, your legs on either side of her face, your skin littered with the remnants of her. she has the eye-rolling thought of you the next morning, of how all these marks will still be there to remind you of her every single time you see one of them.

college roommate!vi who doesn't expect you to flip over after she's literally eaten you out seven ways to sunday, to tug her in for a soft kiss (though she really does like pressing your own taste back into your mouth with her tongue), before your fingers are inching down the length of her body to tease at her hips, trailing circles down the lines of her abs, toying with the thin line of hair that leads into her black boxer briefs.

"what are you --"

you shoot her a look that has her mouth going dry.

"what? didn't think i can give as good as i get?"

college roommate!vi who's literally going to lose her mind with the way you're fingers (at first sight so thin and delicate, but gods are they stronger than they look) are pressing into her, curling up with the kind of precision usually only associated with doctors, and then a voice in the back of her head reminds her -- oh, right, you are a doctor now. but logical thought dies after that, bc you've somehow worked your way between her legs and are looking up at her with those big dark eyes of yours, smiling sunshine bright before you drop a kitten-lick against her clit and she's twitching, keening as she cums all over your fingers.

"jesus fuckin' christ, doll -- is that what you're learning in those engineering classes?"

she's breathless, cheeks flushed, and honestly just a little embarrassed at how quickly she came, but she has to bite back another groan as she watches you lick your fingers clean, grinning sweetly up at her as if you didn't just get her off in record time.

"no, but i did do my dissertation on human-based robotics, which included a lot of late nights memorizing anatomical models so..."

vi pulls you in for a kiss, laughing against your lips.

"you're amazing, y'know that?"

college roommate!vi who can't really believe how much she's lucked out, sharing an apartment with her girlfriend, who literally cannot shut up about you, but the rugby team all agree that they'd rather have this than the months of endless pining. who brags about her genius gf to anyone who'll listen, and looks for you in the stands of all her practice matches when you can make it, who kisses you in front of everyone even when you make a show of trying to wiggle away bc she's sweaty (you don't really care).

who loves telling the story of how you guys met bc she still can't quite believe it herself, and the story always starts with --

"well, actually -- we started off as roommates."

[astraystayreblogs]

AHHHH I LOVE THIS SMMM TOOOOOO

jealousy, jealousy || Seungmin x Reader

Summary: When you planned a study date with your boyfriend, you hadn't thought that he would actually want to study throughout the whole thing — or that he would unexpectedly ditch you halfway through. Fortunately for you, he has a very obliging roommate who's more than happy to give the two of you some alone time...

Word count: 3.7k

Genres: college AU, established relationship, fluffy fluff

Warnings & Tags: jealousy (duh), making out, it gets quite suggestive but no actual smut (rating M), Han makes an appearance

Other works in this jealousy series: I.N

The idea of a ‘study date’ had seemed appealing to you at first. Your boyfriend was one of the top students in pretty much all of his classes and you didn’t want to interfere with that. You also liked working at the library well enough yourself, and you could see the inherent aesthetic of being surrounded by old books, hands brushing against each other every now and again, only quiet whispers filling the silence… Yeah, you thought you could make it work.

Your friends had also hyped you up. There had been lots of grins and winks when you had announced you wouldn’t be available for the afternoon. When you’d rolled your eyes at them and told them you were going to work, thank you very much, you’d been met with a lot of ‘Yeah, sure’ and one unnecessarily detailed description of how you could fuck in the library without getting caught. You hadn’t thought for a second that was an option, but you’d still left your dorm with some butterflies in your stomach.

As it turned out, though, Seungmin’s ideas of study dates were a lot more focused on studying than on the ‘date’ part.

He had kissed you, very briefly, when the two of you had met, which hadn’t fazed you all that much since you knew he wasn’t very comfortable with being affectionate in public. He had, however, taken your hand, traced circles over your skin with his thumb as the two greeted each other, and squeezed it before letting go, which had only renewed the feeling in your stomach.

…maybe you were a little bit down bad.

Things had gone south after that, though. First, he had declined the idea of getting coffee to go, looking at you like you had grown a second head.

“You’re not allowed to have coffee in the library. You could damage the books.”

So you’d given up on that idea, and instead you had headed inside, had found a quiet, isolated place where it was just the two of you.

And so now, an hour later, you’re staring at your books, bored out of your mind, in dead silence, while Seungmin hasn’t looked up from his work once in the past half-hour.

This is on you, you tell yourself somewhat bitterly. Studying is something that he takes very seriously, and you know that. Usually you wouldn’t even mind. You’ve spent a few nights at his dorm, on his bed, reading or watching TV shows on your phone as he worked, and you’ve always found it very attractive, how focused he got in these moments. Even now, the look of absolute concentration on his face, the way his brow furrows sometimes before he flips through the pages of his book to find an explanation for something, how he pushes his glasses higher on his nose whenever they slip—

Yeah, yeah, alright, you’ll stop waxing poetics about your boyfriend now.

You stretch, trying to get your attention back to the essay you’re supposed to be writing. You’ve been trying to find an efficient outline for it, and though you’ve written a few words down and you think you’ve found some key ideas that will do just fine, there’s still a lot of preliminary work to be done. You stare at everything you’ve scribbled on the paper like you’re expecting some genius idea to jump out at you, but all it does is make the words look more jumbled and—

“What are you guys doing here?”

Thank God for Han Jisung, seriously.

“What are you doing here,” Seungmin mumbles without looking up. “It’s my spot.”

“Well it is really romantic,” Jisung says, shooting you a wink. “What are you working on?”

“Seungmin is writing on the notion of humanity in Frankenstein,” you say, “and I’m—”

“Fascinating,” Jisung interrupts you, making you snort, “and how’s it going?”

“Really well,” you reply, easily falling into the same tone as him. “Take a look at that.”

He leans over your shoulder at the empty word document on your computer and chuckles. You always find it easy to be around Jisung. You knew of him before you started dating Seungmin, had heard about him as a part of 3racha, the rap group that everyone on campus was crazy about, but you hadn’t really talked to him. Finding out that he was Seungmin’s roommate had taken you by surprise, learning that they actually got along, more so. He’d been really accommodating though, and he left the two of you alone when he could, crashing at the apartment of one of the other two members of his group.

He also usually made you laugh and, generally, was a fun person to be around.

“Wow,” he grins, “that’s super impressive. There’s already a typo in the title.”

You lean forward with a curse to remove it while he laughs at you. Across the table from you, Seungmin glances up and clicks his tongue. His jaw’s tense, a sure sign that he’s starting to get annoyed.

“You guys should leave if you’re going to be making noise.”

Jisung pouts and gives you a pleading look.

“Wanna grab coffee before you get back to that?” he offers.

“My savior,” you sigh, “I feel like my head’s going to explode. I’ll take a break,” you smile at Seungmin. “I need to get some caffeine in my system to stay functioning. I’ll be back in a few.”

The tension in your boyfriend’s jaw doesn’t go away though, and you almost lean in to peck him on the cheek, but you think that even Jisung’s presence would make him uncomfortable, so you settle for giving him a squeeze on the shoulder as you get up.

Jisung’s already halfway to the door by the time you even get up, waving at you to hurry up in fake annoyance. With a giggle, you follow.

“So, how are things going?” Jisung asks with his gossip voice while he leans against the coffee machine.

You shake your head.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? You’re his roommate.”

“Seungmin says I ‘have no filter’ and I ‘can’t be trusted with anything’,” he shrugs matter-of-factly. The insults don’t seem to bother him in the slightest.

“Things are good,” you answer against your better judgement, maybe partially because you want to brag about your boyfriend. “Seungmin’s very thoughtful, you know? He always remembers the little things I tell him. He plans all our dates. He gets me flowers. Even if…” You frown, gesture at the building around you. “Well, it was kinda tough this week because we have all these essays to turn in, so I suggested a study date.”

“Aw,” Jisung says, “aren’t you the considerate girlfriend?” Then, after a silence: “Do you want the room for tonight?”

“You’re a godsend, I hope you know that.”

“I do.”

“If you don’t mind, I think it would be nice. Seungmin’s, uh, focused on his work and this doesn’t really feel like a date at all.” The issue’s probably that you had gotten your hopes up, and you’d still like to get some actual quality time at some point with him during the day.

“All good,” Jisung says, a little too easily, and you eye him from over your burning coffee.

“Do you know where you’re going to crash?”

His eyes widen, and suddenly he looks like some cute, small animal with big cheeks caught in headlights.

“…maybe?”

“Han Jisung,” you gasp, “is there someone you haven’t told me about?”

Of course, the two of you aren’t that close, but you’re not one to pass on an opportunity to be dramatic. His reaction — spluttering and blushing — only makes it more worth it.

“I, uh… maybe? We’re not…” He starts picking at an undone thread on his sweater, which he seems to find absolutely riveting. “We��re not quite there yet.”

“You should go get it,” you say with a decided nod. “Anyone you’re with would be lucky to have you.”

At that, Jisung glances at you briefly, eyes lighting up before they go back to his sleeve, even though he can’t quite hide the bashful smile that’s starting to form on his lips. That’s a side of him you’ve never seen before. You think you’d enjoy becoming closer friends with him, if things keep working out well between you and Seungmin.

“You really think so?” he asks quietly.

“A hundred percent,” you say, and you mean it.

You slide a chocolate bar across the table to Seungmin as you sit back down by the table, feeling somewhat refreshed — and with much better prospects than originally planned for the evening.

He glances at you, and you take the opportunity to lean over to press a brief kiss to his lips. Even though there is no one around to see it, his cheeks have turned a light red when you pull away.

“I know you won’t eat it in here,” you whisper, “but it can be a snack if you want to take a break.”

He nods, once.

“Was it nice with Jisung?”

Oh, right!

“It was fun! And guess what, he’s leaving the apartment tonight,” you grin. “It’ll just be the two of us.”

Seungmin hums in response, and though you think your announcement deserved a little more enthusiasm than that, you know how he gets when he’s focused. You now feel energized and refreshed, though, and it turns out to be much easier to get your attention back to your paper.

You wouldn’t say you considered yourself particularly academically inclined, and those things don’t come as easy to you as they do to Seungmin. You don’t feel very strongly about it. Different people, different strengths, and yours are much more geared towards human interactions. Sometimes, you do feel a bit envious of how easy Seungmin makes it look, of how brilliant he sounds when you feel like a bumbling idiot when talking about the same objects.

You don’t doubt the fact that you have other things to bring to the table, though. For one, you’re the one who instigated the relationship, and you know for a fact (Jisung told you so) that Seungmin wouldn’t have taken the first step, no matter how much he wanted to.

And yet, Seungmin had been the one to ask you to make things ‘official’. That had been… kinda new to you. Most of the guys around you — the ones you met at parties, or the ones your friends had entanglements with — considered college to be perfect for a ‘no strings attached’ situation.

But Seungmin had looked straight into your eyes as he stood in your doorway, a bouquet of roses in his hands, because you’d mentioned how much you loved them on at least three occasions in a not so subtle way for hinting that you’d like to get some for Valentine’s Day. The tip of his ears was burning red, and yet his voice hadn’t wavered when he’d asked.

You’ve managed to write a whole paragraph — 250 words, not bad —, only minimally distracted by the corny thoughts that are commonplace when you’re around Seungmin when the loud noise of a book being closed shut jerks you back to reality. It takes you a second to locate the origin, but it certainly becomes clearer when you see your boyfriend’s packing his stuff up.

“What are you doing?” you ask, a little too loud for the library environment.

“I can’t focus,” he says, not meeting your eyes, “I’m going back to my room.”

You stare for a few seconds, trying to figure out if something’s wrong, if it’s something you’ve said, something you’ve done, but nothing comes to mind.

“You can come by later,” he says, instant relief flooding your chest, “if you’re done with your assignment.”

His playful tone makes you chuckle and, as he brushes past you, you wrap your fingers in his jacket, pulling him down towards you.

“Alright, do well today.”

You’d only intended to peck his lips, but he presses his against yours more intently, one of his hands on the table, the other on the back of your chair, and it’s hard not to let your friends’ previous suggestions get the better of you in that moment. You feel flushed when he pulls away, and his shit-eating grin makes you want to throw something at him.

“Kim Seungmin,” you hiss, “what—”

But he’s already on his merry way, giggling to himself at the state he’s got you in as he escapes.

You huff, knowing it’s going to take you a hot minute to get back to the state of focus you were previously in. Your eyes scan your screen, then the books opened in front of you, but your mind goes back to the unusual tension in your boyfriend’s shoulders, to the twitching muscle in his jaw. You are amused — and quite flattered — by the idea that you were the one who made him unable to focus, but you do wonder if anything had upset him.

You make a mental note to ask him about it, right next to ‘no more library dates’ and above ‘buy Jisung flowers’. You’ll think about that more when you have the time. For now, this essay isn’t going to write itself.

It is barely 6.30 pm when you swing open the door to Seungmin’s room, and he shoots you an unamused look that you ignore completely as you put down a cup of his favorite coffee on his desk.

“I’m not done,” he says. “Are you?”

“Yeah,” you reply with a shrug, pecking him on the cheek, “I’ll just need to proofread tomorrow.”

He scrunches his nose, and you don’t need him to say anything to know exactly what he thinks of your work ethic, but you don’t really care. He strives for academic perfection and he won’t rest until his essay is worthy of a Nobel prize; you aim for a passing grade and will never think about it again. You do admire him for his abilities though, just like he not-so-secretly wishes he could be even a tenth as carefree as you are. You think that might be why the two of you work so well together.

“I’ll let you work,” you hum, “and we can order something when you want to take a break.” Then, with a grin: “And if you want me to help you relax, all you have to do is say the word.”

He coughs and waves to get you away from him, which you do with a laugh. You’re more brazen when the two of you aren’t in public. Seungmin never fails to act like he hates it, but you’d bet an arm that he’d be incredibly disappointed if you ever stopped doing it.

Also, he does take you up on it about half of the time.

You let yourself fall on his bed and pull out your phone, connecting your earphones to it. You have some time to kill. On a normal day, it takes Seungmin about thirty minutes to stop working, like his brain has a hard time leaving the state of complete focus behind. Today, you suspect you’ll have to wait about an hour before you can get his attention back to you.

That’s not something you mind, not anymore anyway. If anything, you appreciate the quiet, and you like knowing that he’s in the room with you. You suspect it’s the same thing for him when he accompanies you to some of the university sport events or parties, just because you want to go. It may not be his favorite thing, but it’s worth it if the two of you get to be together.

You have to admit, though, that what you like more than anything is how focused on you he becomes afterwards. The second his brain is off his studies, it’s on you, you, and only you. His hands and tongue explore every inch of your skin, the words he whispers in your ear leave you burning, and his eyes devour you like you are the only person in the world.

But, sadly, you’ll have to wait a little bit to experience that again, and so, with a discreet sigh, you focus on your screen.

So when, after about five minutes, when the opening to your drama has just finished playing, you hear the familiar creaking of his chair as he gets up, you glance up, surprised.

“Everything okay?” you ask, pulling out one of your earphones and pressing pause on your phone. “Seungmin?”

You don’t get a reply from him. What you do get is his lips pressed against yours as he climbs into bed with you. You let out a surprised sound, immediately muffled by his mouth, and your lips part, allowing his tongue to slip in. He pushes one of his legs between yours, and you resist the urge to roll your hips against it. He’s shown before that he’s not above riling you up and then going back to study like nothing’s happened, and you’re not going to fall for this trap if that’s what’s happening here.

At least, not until at least thirty seconds have passed. You have your dignity, after all.

But Seungmin’s showing no sign of stopping so far. One of his hands grabs your shoulder and gently guides you down on the bed. His mouth is insistent, aggressive almost on yours, which you don’t mind, but it’s certainly unusual for him. His teeth graze against your bottom lip and you find yourself whimpering.

He intertwines his fingers with yours, pressing you into the mattress, and you can’t hold yourself back from arching up into him anymore. If he is just trying to rile you up, which you doubt more and more with every second, you’ll make sure that leaving you behind will be hell for him too.

His grip tightens on your hand and you think you hear him groan. His free hand comes down to hold onto your hip, halting your movement, but not before you feel the way he jerks against you, half-hard member rubbing against your thigh as he does.

“Seungmin,” you gasp when his mouth leaves yours.

You search his eyes, but all you find in them is desire — and a bit of that tension you had noticed earlier. You don’t get much time to ponder it, though, because next thing you know one of his hand is sliding under your t-shirt, pushing it up and sending shivers through your body, and his mouth is making its way down your neck, sucking on the skin in a way that you’re sure will leave a hickey. Again, you don’t mind that, but Seungmin had always been careful to avoid leaving any in very visible places. He usually went for your thighs or your collarbones, places that could easily be hidden under your clothes.

“Oh my God,” you moan as he unbuttons your jeans and start pulling them down, “what’s gotten into you?”

You feel a mumble against your neck, but it’s nothing you can decipher. Your fingers thread through his hair, and he pushes himself back up to kiss you. It’s slower, more tender this time, like an interlude before what is to come.

You think you’re the one who’s the most surprised when you hear yourself asking “Don’t you have an essay to finish?”

Seungmin frowns at the question, but you’re probably the most horrified out of the two of you.

“Kim Seungmin,” you say threateningly, “what have you done to me?”

It makes him smile that wide smile of his that you love so much, and a wave of tenderness washes over in your heart.

You love him so much.

“I can get it done later,” he replies, and you stare at him.

“Did you hit your head?” you ask, finally, when you’re not able to figure anything different about him — like maybe a suspicious mole that would indicate that he’s Seungmin’s secret twin brother or something.

Seungmin sighs, looking more sullen now.

“Do you really think I can’t be fun?”

You’re feeling more and more confused.

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to change things about yourself to be with me,” you say slowly. “I mean, if you want to hook up instead of finishing that, I’m happy to, trust me, but— Is something wrong?”

There it is again, the twitching in his jaw.

“You’re not bored with me?”

“What? No! I— Okay, we were both very busy today, but we can make it up later, I don’t— I don’t need to be constantly doing things, is that— Is that the issue?”

He looks unsure, appears to hesitate some more.

“Isn’t Jisung more fun?”

You blink at him.

“Your roommate, who I asked if he could spend the night elsewhere so I could have sex with you?”

Seungmin clears his throat, glances away from you. The tip of his ears are turning red.

“I’m not saying— Isn’t he more— more your type?”

You reach up, fingertips gentle against him as you tilt his head back towards you so you can look into his eyes. You’re not sure what brought this up — you’re certainly convinced you’ve never shown any form of romantic interest towards Jisung, bless his heart — but you’re also aware of the fact that you’re Seungmin’s first relationship. Sometimes, insecurities hit where you least expect them to.

You’re not one to believe in perfection, all too aware of how messy relationships can get among the best of people, but so far, Seungmin’s been pretty close. It breaks your heart that he can’t see that.

“There is no one I would rather be with than you,” you say, and you mean every word of that. “There is nowhere else I would rather be right now, even if you were still working on that essay.” You see him swallow. “And there is no one who means more to me than you do.” In the silence that follows, he averts his eyes again, though this time you think it’s to recompose himself.

Once he’s done, he gives you a small nod, kissing you tenderly once more.

“For the record,” he whispers against your lips, “there’s no one else I would rather be with either.”

“You better,” you giggle against his lips, and he grins.

“Right, well, in that case, I’m gonna get back to that essay—”

“Don’t you dare.”

i hope this was as much fun to read as it was to write, this isn't a type of character i write all that often but it was nice to switch it up a little bit. first time writing Seungmin too, so i hope that worked out but i had fun! if you enjoyed it, it would mean a ton if you could comment, send an ask, or reblog (with or without tags/comments, whatever you're comfortable with), it's really such an important for an author. and thank you for reading!

[zerocoded]

i'm gonna hold your hand when i say this, zayne girlies. 🤲🏻

the side eye??? the height diference??? the smirk reserved only for her??? i feel like this is how zayne would react if mc felt uncomfortable in public because of someone.

(i saw this on tiktok, credits to the owner)

[crsssie]

husband - professor!simon riley x professor!reader

Every now and then, Simon gets a student who doesn’t seem to get it past their skull that he’s happily married and not looking for a side chick or mistress.

He can usually tell in the first handful of classes, brow raised as they ask him to visit office hours, shirt peeking a little too low, smile a little too uncanny for his taste. He finds that typically as long as he plays uninterested and talk more about his wife, most of them learn to back down.

Now, occasionally, he gets a student who just doesn’t back down.

In those cases, he entertains the office hours, forcing you to stay back and lounge on the couch when they visit, extra affectionate with you when they walk in, ring on his finger extra polished and your matching one visible when you work.

You find it hilarious when you reach for his tea, lips around his straw as you continue to work on your research, drinking up the way his student’s eye twitches at his blatant displays of affection. You’re his “beloved” when the student walks in, and his “one and only” when they’re almost out of hearing range. You get a kiss when you walk him to class, and you peek into his class so much more to drop off drinks as long as the student doesn’t back down.

He refuses to hold an office hour with the student if you’re not available to hang around. He’d much rather be called a shitty professor than a shitty husband.

He can find another job. Not another you.

[vaguely-concerned]

lucanis is a 'I could sit in our quiet kitchen on a grey tuesday afternoon drinking coffee and talking with you about nothing much in particular forever and be the happiest man who ever lived' romantic, not a 'classic tropes and grand gestures' romantic. this is a distinction and conceptual gap I personally feel is crucial to understanding what's going on with him when romanced. for all his almost painful sincerity and clear depth of feeling he's not a very effusive guy by nature, but in the history of time no one has ever, with their whole soul, chest and being, been so genuinely and openly happy to just do laundry and taxes with you.

[xitsensunmoon]

The local vampire is quite annoyed with you keeping him company being awake this late at night. But maybe five more minutes of mutual bickering will satisfy him enough to let you do your thing. As long as you're in his sight

[lamb-teaa]

` Transactional Tantrum

` pairing: Sylus x fem!reader

` tags: fluff. romcom. silly shenanigans. filthy rich Sylus. chaotic!reader cuz we all want to be spoiled and provided by him don't lie 🫵🏻

` teaa's note: where can i get a husband like Sylus (⁠ ⁠⚈̥̥̥̥̥́⁠⌢⁠⚈̥̥̥̥̥̀⁠)

People hail him as a powerful man amongst all existing factions in the N109 Zone, yet even someone like Sylus isn't immune to the dread of a tedious business dealings.

Don't get him wrong, it is practically his job for a lack of better words but you can't blame the man for nearly dying out of boredom at the moment.

Ping!

A sudden notification from his phone tore his attention away from his yammering business partners. Sylus briefly glanced down at his phone, brows furrowed in confusion when he read the transaction alert message on his screen.

'Ten million was charged to your Credit Card at Summers Jewelry'

Sylus didn't even have the chance to ponder over the sudden message further when he was suddenly startled by another barrage of notifications - yes, plural notifications.

'Four million was charged to your Credit Card at M&Hs'

'Six million was charged to your Credit Card at Nebulas'

'Eight million was charged to your Credit Card at Zapple'

Despite the deadpan expression on his face and his usual nonchalance silence, the slightest quirk of his brows were enough to give away his bewildered reaction to seeing such random transaction alerts on his card.

He doesn't recall making any on-hold purchases and certainly didn't give the twins any permission to spend any after the last time they went all out using his card in the past.

Which means only one person would be bold enough to overspend his money on a whim like this and his eyes instantly flickered in amusement when another transaction message came through his phone.

'Thirteen million was charged to your Credit Card at Abyssal Attire'

Seems like a certain kitten is on a wild spending spree.

Observing the transaction alerts, Sylus let out a low chuckle, ignoring the strange looks from his business partners who continued on with their discussion.

His sole attention now was you - his lovely kitten spending all his money with reckless abandon.

As his thumb hovered over the icon of your picture on his phone, he couldn't help but grin at the large purchases you made - given the fact you had always been reluctant to spend on his card before despite the countless times he had reassured you that he wants you to use his money to your heart's content.

Sylus, without a doubt, always wants the best for you. Even when you nagged him on buying such expensive gifts before, yet that will never stop him from spoiling you rotten.

Though.. he wondered what sparked this sudden influx of random purchases this first time around?

With his interest now piqued towards you, Sylus strode out of the conference room without a care in the world, especially when said discussion had led to no satisfying result on his end, thus he neither bothered about the frustrated and flabbergasted looks of the businessmen as he made his way along the hallways of the building.

Luke and Kieran, who's been by his side the entire meeting, automatically followed their boss out. Both brothers exchange curious looks from behind their masks with a shrug. Though they had great knowledge that only two things could spring their boss out of his usual routine - an unexpected ambush or well, you.

And it seemed like they were right on the nose as they watched Sylus’s thumb pressed onto the screen of his phone before bringing the device close to his ear, an amused yet genuine smile curled on their fierce leader's lips as he called out your name.

"Is it just me or a certain kitten is behaving quite impulsively with her spending today?” His voice held a steady yet teasing affection tone, his mind already picturing your smug expression at overspending his money. “This is a first, sweetie.”

"Oh look who finally remembered me!" Your voice snapped, the snarky and sarcastic response made Sylus pause in his track in surprise.

Before he could say anything, you cut him off, your voice faux innocent under a thinly veiled anger from the other line. "To think it took blowing your credit card to call me after making me wait for you the past THREE hours, you better have some explaining to do mister!”

To say you had left Sylus utterly speechless would be an understatement of the century, but it quite frankly did as your unexpected anger left his mind reeling in both confusion and worry.

Even his brief frozen state wasn't left unnoticed by Luke and Kieran, both could heard your snappy voice from the other line and they know an unhappy Miss Hunter equals to a agitated Onychinus leader, so they quietly watched in as Sylus slowly recover from his initial surprise before turning his attention back to the phone call.

“Kitten.” Sylus blinked, a frown forming on his lips, "I don't recall us having plans today? And I'm out of town for the time being as well.”

There was a sudden silence from your side, and for a second there Sylus thought you had hung up on him but your next words made him even more confused.

"Wait, what, I thought Luke and Kieran said you'd be free for the weekend and they'd told you about our date for today?"

At the mention of the twins, Sylus's head immediately snapped towards his henchmen who visibly tensed up. It didn't take long for Sylus to put two and two together that Luke and Kieran had pulled another of their mischievous pranks on you.

Oh but this one is definitely going to cost them their four months worth of paycheck for making his kitten angry at him.

"It seems like the twins have made a mistake. I wasn't aware of such plans today." Sylus's voice dropped low and dangerous, a flicker of annoyance as he shot the tensed twins a hard glare.

Though, knowing it would be no use to him to be mad at them at that moment, Sylus paused briefly once more before taking a deep breath, calming himself down. "I assure you, sweetie, I would never intentionally forget anything, especially when it's about you.”

There was another stretch of silence before you spoke up again, your voice softer and apologetic, wincing in guilt for assuming he'd purposely ditched you when that wasn't the case. "I'm sorry.." You sighed quietly. "I just.. I was looking forward to seeing you today and I.. I missed you, Sy.."

His annoyance instantly melted away at your confession. He understood that his work often kept him away, leaving you feeling neglected at times and he wanted nothing more than to rush to your side and hold you dearly in his arms. You always had a way to tug at his heartstrings and even then he relishes at the admission of you needing him as much as he needed you.

"I'll make it up to you, right now. Anything you want, name it." Sylus emphasized seriously, already giving Luke and Kieran a look of command. Not needing any further words as the twins bolted off to prepare his private jet to head back to Linkon.

"Well, you could start by allowing me to strangle those twins." You chirped, your voice brighter now yet held intentional malice mostly directed towards his loyal henchmen for tricking you with false information regarding Sylus's work schedule.

"And cuddles. I expect to see you at my place later tonight for cuddles or else I'll empty your entire bank account." You demanded sweetly, with a clearly joking threat but given you had waited three whole hours like a fool in public, you were tempted to do it again if Sylus bails on you twice in a day.

Your laughter tinkled over the phone, a lovely sound that never ceases to make Sylus's heart swell with blissful affection. The business deal be damned and he'll handle the twins' antics another time, for now, all he wanted was to go back to you.

Sylus chuckled, a warm smile tugging at his lips despite himself as he made his way up the building's rooftop. He knew his kitten was quite a force to be reckoned with, and yet such side of you made him drawn to you even more than ever - oh, he couldn't wait to see you again soon. "Deal. Cuddles it is, and you have my word, sweetie, I'll be at your doorstep by tonight. As for the twins, well, I'm sure they'll be begging for mercy by the time you're done with them.”

Back to your awaiting loving embrace.

[gomtangii]

boyfriend!rafayel is clingy.

boyfriend!rafayel who just can't stop touching you. he just needs to constantly be in contact with you.

you're cooking? he'll come up behind you and cling onto you until you finish. you're eating? he'll have you sit on his lap for the entire meal. you're trying to watch a show? on the other side of the couch?? how dare you! he'd tug you towards him and lay in your lap, kneading your thighs lovingly.

don't get him started when you have to leave for a business trip... he'd whine, clinging on tightly the night before to wake up with you and offer to drive you there since it's "on the way," only to find out that he booked a "vacation" conveniently in the town you're supposed to be in too.

and if you had an argument? he'd still be mad. he wouldn't make you eat on his lap but instead scoot his chair uncomfortably close until your sides are touching. and no matter how mad the two of you are, he refuses to let you sleep anywhere else other than the bed. you won't fall asleep to him hugging you, no, but you might just wake up in the middle of the night to him nuzzling against the top of your head, murmuring apologies and placing feather kisses, promises of making it up to you when you both wake up.

boyfriend!rafayel is clingy, but you love that he is.

[meowf4ngs]

thinking about roommate!ghost, because I need him to see him slightly happy, and in a nice domestic slice-of-life because he deserves it.

and how he puts up a craigslist ad for a roommate, he's gone too much to actually care for the flat---price put him up to it to get one, the flat not the roommate, because everything be damned if he had one of the other's hear he needs something; someone like that.

he's quick to the point about it--how much the rent will be, their room, the commons room where they'll both reside, how there's only one bathroom, where the kitchen is small.

no pets allowed, no people over without telling him---the whole nine yards, which in his opinion is completely fair.

and lucky him---this pretty little thing shows up at his doorstep.

she's a cute little thing, teetering on their feet as they await for him to open the door, and when it does swing open---he sees how her eyes widen just the slightest amount with how his frame fills in the doorway. he's all but blocking her, and don't forget the fact he's wearing his mask---forgot to take it off, sometimes he's just too comfortable with it.

but she's not even put off by it, just a smile up his way, a cock of her head to the side, adjusting the strap on her back, as she nods at him. "Hi, Simon, right?" and her voice is the sweetest thing he's heard---or maybe he's been with the boys too long, too much of Soap's snoring in his ear.

he grunts, nods his head, "Come in," voice gravel-like, low and sees how she steps in without an ounce of fear in her, slips past him and he could smell the perfume she has---something warm and comforting, his eyes half-lidded watching her back as she's already eyeing the bare living room.

the door shuts with a soft click, already wondering what she'll look like in the morning.

edit: the next part!

[randomfandomworks]

Sylus watched as you ran your fingers across the back of the stray you had recently taken in. The small kitten was nothing more than a black ball as it curled in your lap yet he could hear its purring even from his place across the room.

He had nothing against the small animal, he regularly took care of discarded animals himself, it was just that while the cat loved you it must have adored him.

For the past week it could be constantly found with him, padding its way quickly across the floor in an attempt to keep up with his large strides whenever he left the room.

Regularly rubbing against his legs and begging for his attention.

Meowing softly whenever he would fail to acknowledge it or when he would forget and accidentally close the door to his office before it had the chance to enter as well.

Even now it sat content with you only as it kept a watchful eye on him.

It simply had to be around him whenever it could, even when he would scold and scruff it for pawing at Mephisto it would purr in his hold until he would give up and pet it for the next few minutes.

It was quite funny to you, to watch your dear partner have to deal with the small animal, to hear his complaints of already having to deal with one Kitten only for you to bring home another.

Yet he would say these same complaints while gently petting the sleeping cat in his lap.

And then he would wonder why you never believed him when he said he wasn’t attached. When in fact he had obviously become rather adjusted to his two kittens roaming around and asking for his attention.