#and i only knew that this back slapping and was happening bc someone shared a screenshot with me

[thatswhatsushesaid]

yeah they seem so pleasant

.

me when im in a "blaming children for feeling unloved by their parents" contest and my opponent is a jc anti

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Okay so theres only a couple of words for this because like i trust you to do the rest bc your HONESTY SUCH A GOOD WRITER anyway so like you know that interview with Dave mustaine when he said he nailed kirk’s girlfriend? Well instead of kirk its James’s girlfriend and thats reader but like when reader and Dave were doing it they almost got caught by James and Dave basically explained in a interview

(I HOPE THIS MAKES SENSE!!)

A/n: I hope I wrote this the way you were thinking of it? I thought of just writing Dave explaining what happened but this came out better

Warnings: Smut, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), cheating, public sex, pregnancy, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

James told you all about his band, about the parties and the drugs, the booze. He told you about Dave, the amazing guitarist they had to kick out of the band because of his... hobbies, so to speak.

You didn't think much of it until you were at a Metallica concert, standing right up front at the stage, and you felt a hand on the small of your back.

Expecting to find a random guy you spun around but it was just Dave. You'd met him a number of times, sharing quick greetings and you'd watch him play with the band at practice, but it wasn't much more than that.

He seemed nice enough and would grab you a drink if he was off to get one for himself. Now he smiled at you and leaned down so he could speak into your ear. "What're you doing here?" He asked, lips frisking the shell of your ear.

"I came for the show." You said, looking back to the stage to find James glaring at you and Dave, who was grinning wickedly but you couldn't quite see it.

"Oh," he hummed, "cool, well, I'll be by the bar if you want a drink." He offered, pecking your cheek before slipping off into the crowd.

James was furious and kept an eye on you throughout the show, until the venue got busier, people bustling around, pushing their way to the front and you gradually drew away from the stage, something you did most nights as moshing wasn't really your thing.

You remembered what Dave had told you and made your way to the ginger mop by the bar. He bought you a drink and you got to talking, eventually leading to you in the bathroom stall, your back pressed against the wall and your legs wrapped around Dave's waist.

He held you up, one hand around your waist while the other held your ass. His gaze flickered between your face, lips parted as moans flooded out, eyes fluttering and rolling back in bliss, and between your legs, watching you suck him back in every time he pulled even an inch away.

Your moans echoed off the tiled walls, you knew what you were doing was wrong, you didn't even know what happened. Dave was saying all the right things, squeezing your hand while the other went to your knee, slowly rubbing higher up your thigh.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, holding onto him as your back arched off the stall wall, head rolling back as you came. Dave's thrusts became uneven, sporadic as he chased his nearing high, low grunts and groans falling onto your ears as you melted into the pleasure of it.

Dave's hips bucked into you a last time, filling you full of his cum. He trailed kisses down your neck and chest, pulling out of you and going lower still until you were back on the ground. You held onto his shoulders for stability, your legs shaky from your orgasm.

Dave began lapping at your cunt, licking the traces himself out of you. He kept his eyes on you, watching your expression closely. You were already so sensitive and he was so tentative to your neglected clit, tongue swirling around it while his long, calloused and experienced fingers worked your hole.

You slapped a hand over your mouth when you heard the door open and someone came in. Of course you had to be in the men's room. You knew it was James, he was mumbling something and you recognized it immediately as him.

Panicked, you looked down at Dave who had also figured out it was James but was still doing what he could to make you cum a second time. He curled his fingers, hitting just right and your knees buckled. He hit that same spot a few more times and you came around his fingers.

James stopped, he knew he wasn't alone, he knew what was happening in the stall, but that squeal... "Y/n?" He called, Dave stared at you, daring you to reply but you didn't.

More than anything James didn't want it to be you in the stall. He washed his hands and left to go find you.

"And then what happened?" The reporter asked Dave, sitting across from each other on the fancy commercial couches.

Dave shrugged. "I got up, cleaned her off a bit and sent her on her way to find James." He said simply enough as if it was just common place, which it pretty much was. "I'm not really sure what happened after that, I know she didn't come home with me so I assume she went with James."

The reporter nodded in understanding and went to speak again, but Dave spoke up first, cutting him off. "Doesn't really matter now, I mean, she's on my couch with my kid kicking in her stomach, so." He looked to the camera with a smirk. "Hope you're watching, James."

[yippeesizedifgohard]

best friends

this was inspired by this post bc it gave me the juices and i just had to write something with it...the potential was too great

-------

Nikki and Simon were best friends. Ever since kindergarten, the pair had never been apart. They each completed each other in a way. Nikki had never been all that good at communicating with others, especially not when she was younger. That was mostly caused by a speech impediment, leaving Nikki insecure and afraid that people would make fun of her. Oftentimes, that left Simon to do all the talking, which he was completely happy to do.

"Friends don't let friends be scared," He'd say with a wink whenever Nikki hid from someone new.

But now they were older, and Nikki had grown into a better, more well-adjusted teen. She had eliminated her speech impediment for the most part, and she had grown to be far more comfortable with people other than Simon, even if she didn't know them. Simon, though, hadn't changed. He still acted childishly and foolishly, often not thinking about the consequences of his actions before he did them. He got rougher with the ways he showed affection, always squeezing his hugs a little tight or hurting someone with what was intended as a playful slap on the back. Nikki had heard something about him tackling another person to the ground, but she hoped it wasn't true.

He had all these crazy ideas that usually ended in careless destruction, like her fifteenth birthday when he broke in through the window at six in the morning just so he could be the first to wish her a happy birthday. It was a sweet gesture, but the shards of glass that littered her floor after told a different story.

The worst of it was when Nikki could tell he was feeling bad about something, but when she asked he'd change the subject.

All of that was fine with Nikki, of course. She knew that he was still a good person. He was still a good friend, even if emotions made him run and he was never vulnerable with her. That didn't bother her. It didn't bother her at all.

...

Okay, maybe just a little. But Nikki had gotten closer to finally getting Simon to be real and not just some cartoon facade he put on to make himself seem more fun.

That was, until he found a raygun at a pawnshop and decided he wanted to surprise test it on Nikki.

He had asked her to meet him at their childhood playground, right by the swings they had shared many conversations on. She agreed, and she instantly spotted him when she made it to the park.

"Nikki! I bought something from the pawner!" Simon waved, kicking his legs out on the swing. She stood in front of him.

"What even is that?" She asked, pointing at the raygun.

"I don't know what it does," he admitted, fiddling with it in his hands, "but I was hoping we could test it out together?" He looked at her with a glow in his eyes.

"Okay, sure. I haven't got much else to do." Nikki shrugged.

"Great. Now hold still." He closed one eye and aimed the raygun at her.

"Wait, wha-"

ZAP.

Nikki closed her eyes the minute the bright light had fired, but after a few minutes, she opened them again. The mulch ground of the park now looked far, far bigger than it should have been, and as Nikki's heat began to pound in her chest, she looked up to see Simon squatting over her.

"Wow. Now you're really short." He snickered, setting the raygun down. "There's no way I could've guessed it would do this! This is so cool! Look at how tiny and cute you are!" Nikki's eyes practically bulged out of their sockets. How could this have even happened? It wasn't scientifically possible! She was snapped out of her thoughts as the shadow of Simon's hand descended upon her. She yelped, though she didn't scream, and pushed his fingers away. It did almost nothing, as Simon was quick to scoop her up.

She resisted the urge to scream again when he brought her right up close to his face and she saw a scratch on it which only reminded her more of his carelessness.

"S-Simon..." She stuttered, uncaring that her impediment had returned. "Ple-please...put-put me down." Her voice was at a whimper.

"Huh? It's...it's me, Nikki." He sounded nervous, which made her even more nervous. "It's just me-"

"That's-That's exactly the problem!" She yelped, and he pulled his face back a little in shock.

"What...do you mean?" His lower lip twitched, and for a minute Nikki thought she could see his eyes gloss over.

"Simon- you-you're loud! And clumsy! And you hurt people all the time without realizing it! I-I don't want my life in you're hands! Especially- Especially not if you're going to treat it like it's funny that now I'm the size of your finger!" She shakes as she says it, but letting it out makes her feel better. "Just- for once in your life! Treat this seriously!" Simon doesn't look at her, his fingers twitching.

"You know I'd never hurt you," Simon said, biting his lip, "right? You do know that, right?" He still couldn't look at her. Nikki glanced away, thinking about all the times he had grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her someplace he thought was cool, the times when she had come home bruised on the back from when he thought something was particularly funny and slapped her on the back. She looked at him and finally recognized the doubt on his face. At least he was taking this seriously.

"You're...scared of me?" Simon finally looked at her, sounding very close to tears. "I know I can be a lot...and I can be careless, but I-I'd...I thought you liked it?" Nikki slumped, feeling gross. "You...I...I can be gentle...with you." Nikki still couldn't look at him, now overcome with the weight of guilt. She felt humiliated and scared and guilty all at the same time.

"God...I'm such a coward," she admitted quietly to herself.

"No, no you're not...I'm the coward. I-I never took anything seriously, and that was wrong-"

"No, I-I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. That was wrong. I'm sorry. I'm just so tired...tired of feeling like you're acting like you're okay when I know you aren't." Nikki sighed in his hand.

"I...Sometimes I feel bad. Like the time I broke your window. But I don't know how to say sorry." Simon admitted, sitting on the ground after setting Nikki down. "I just feel like...maybe sometimes you don't want me around anymore."

"No! That's not true at all!" Nikki was quick to say. "I'd never want you out of my life! You were my first friend! There's no way I wouldn't want you around anymore!"

"You...do you mean that?" Simon asked, leaning forward.

"Yeah. You mean a lot to me."

"Thanks. You, uh, you mean a lot to me too."

[tincansamurai]

fuck it, i'm cross postin the pifo oc monday posts here. but under a cut because i can't shut up. if you want to know stupid details about my ocs click here

here's the original post, ty to penbrydd for putting this together every week!

1. Were there any educators [x] bonded with or really liked? Tell us about them.

mat: matsuo took a CAD class in college with a professor who was very much on the cool young person end of the professor spectrum. there was a lot of chill-out time where students were just working on designs or hanging out while waiting for the laser cutter to finish, etc, and he got to talk to this professor way more casually than he had with any other educators before. they had a lot of shared interests, and it was nice to have someone who seemed to excited to see him. but like halfway through the semester he started feeling weird about it and switched to doing more of his work outside of the classroom. he's gonna look back at this after a couple of months of being out and wanna slap himself; like, you fuckin idiot you had a crush on him

kaz: first is his senior year hs english teacher. he didn't talk to her about all the shit he had going on but she could tell he was in a bad place, and she did a lot to encourage him to actually go to college and hype him up about the work he was doing. in college his archaeology 101 professor took a shine to him right away, and she ended up being his mentor throughout his time there, hooked him up with connections to digs looking for hands, had him be her TA for a couple of years, etc. unfortunately didn't make up for his shit grades in other courses, or the other various points of failure that've led him to working 2 shitty unrelated jobs

2. Does [x] usually see the same doctor (or other healthcare professional), or do they just see whoever's available, when they have a problem?

mat: he sees the same doctor, it's just easier to schedule that way. mat does his annual exams and gets all his shots like a good boy. he does lie about how much weed he smokes though

kaz: kaz literally only ever sees a doctor for emergencies/urgent care shit or std tests. he doesn't care who he sees, it's whoever is cheapest without insurance. he doesn't have a gp or do annuals or anything bc he feels fine and they're just gonna tell him to stop drinking, which isn't happening

3. Does [x] drink coffee? If so, how do they take it?

mat: yep, usually black. he likes dark strong coffee. someone should buy him an espresso machine. sometimes he gets a cappuccino or a latte if he's like hanging out with someone at a coffee shop, to have smth more substantial

kaz: yeah, he kind of likes shitty watered down drip coffee best, tbh

4. Has [x] had any memorable serious injuries?

mat: nope

kaz: broke his arm once as a dumb teen. don't drink and ride dirt bikes. lucky it was only his arm!

5. What's one time [x] has helped someone against their better judgement?

mat: just about any time he's had a group project for school or work, lol. mat wants shit to just be done, so he'll do extra work for no reward, even if he knows that's stupid and he should just speak up. even if he's doing the work for ppl he hates that he knows would never do shit for him.

kaz: one time he let a girl he was hooking up with stay at his and jaimie's place when she got kicked out by her roommates, even though he knew she was volatile and too into him. i mean, she was homeless, wtf, was he gonna not let her stay? lucky for him the only valuable item he owned was a shitty thinkpad, and a lot of his shirts look cooler with tears and burn marks. jaimie is still mad about this - she stole her fucking antique jewelry box!! he didn't even really like her!!!

6. Has [x] ever witnessed something that fundamentally changed them?

mat: 100% had a week or two where he was miserably obsessing over actual gore videos in middle school. this probably made him worse. but also he was outside in the golden hour at a music festival in the woods on shrooms once, and the beauty of the light through the leaves probably made enough of an impact to fix that a little bit

kaz: kaz has seen so much awful shit, it would suck for everyone to list it all out. it does mostly steel his resolve to be good to other people and to never touch harder drugs tho so i guess good changes idk

7. What song reminds you of [x]?

you all know i go wild making playlists for these guys, there are so many songs... so i'll go with one recent as-of-yet-not-included-in-a-public-playlist song for each of them (that are both also a little bit about each other)

mat: leilani - the night

kaz: shame - human, for a minute

[not-so-mundane-after-all]

*crawls out of a swamp, hands you a paper that says "11, 16, 66, and 77 but you choose the fic" then gets dragged back in by vines*

*slaps herself on the forehead with the paper* the only ask I got out of this and I fucking forgot about it

11. Link your three favorite fics right now

But like my fics or the fics I'm reading? I'll go with the second option and rec some good stuff bc it's too hard to pick from my own stuff

First, two Prospect works from my prospie besties, both AUs, both brilliant!

At Your Service by @skoulsons - modern AU where 15 year old Cee starts working at a restaurant and their best employee, Ezra, takes her under his wing (and not only during work hours). Lots of angst and lots of love - and you get to see how restaurants work! How cool is that!

without you, without them by @channelrat - this AU is more in-world and poses a question: what if Ezra knew Cee's mom? What if they were best friends? It's so exciting to follow Cee as she uncovers her family's history and learns more about her mom

The third one is a Hunger Games fic that I've been following for quite some time and I can't wait for another chapter

Long Way Out by lollercakes - a story following the ups and downs (and mental breakdowns) of the relationship between Katniss and Haymitch. It's heavy, it's brutal at times, deals with depression, PTSD, alcoholism, suicidal thoughts and rage (to name a few) but ultimately it's a story about how two broken people can keep each other from falling apart because they are both too damn stubborn to let each other go.

16. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Share one of them?

Realistically? Two. There's more saved in my docs but I'm not being pulled to start them or finish what is started already. One I can share, the one I'll probably be working on next, is a little extra scene for The Bad Batch series finale, where everyone gets a moment to breathe and take care of each other as they fly away from their final battle.

66. How do you deal with writing pressure (ie. pressure to update, negative comments, deadlines, etc.)?

Pressure to update? Deadlines? It's easy to deal with when you're convinced no one is reading your shit lol but seriously, I try to take it easy now. I used to work like a machine (still do sometimes), but not because I knew someone was waiting, but because there were so many ideas in my head that I just wanted to be done with the current one so I can start the next. I didn't want to lose any of them. These days I try to tell myself "there is no deadline". Fics don't have deadlines. You release them when you feel like they're ready, you work on them when you have time and energy to do so.

And as readers, we should know and respect that. I'm also a reader who's waiting for updates on her beloved fics - written both by strangers and by friends. But no matter how much I want to read what happens next, I won't pressure them to update. When they're ready and the story is ready, then I'll get to read it.

As for negative comments? I rarely get them, the ones I did were from fandom trolls that were pressed about stupid bullshit, or it was straight up AI generated comment. What I do? Read, delete, never think of it again.

77. Do you have a favorite scene you’ve written from [Fanfic Name] story/chapter?

These two bits from The Art of Letting Go

Because it's so angsty!!! We see Hunter and Omega argue in the show but never to this extent! It never turns into a fight! I cried writing those. But it felt so good!

Thank you for the ask! Sorry you had to wait so long.

[cassandralexxx]

I need to think more on this :(

I am so glad my church group doesn’t meet over the summer bc it gives me some time to reflect with separation.

Bc I haven’t been meeting with them every week I can think of it’s the way I truly want to live my life

like the way I viewed myself got worse so idk

For a course I’m taking we had to do an autobiography type reflection and the only reason I could be honest is bc it is going to be anonymously graded

like being part of the church group in s way embarrasses me

but also Idk If I can just stop attending it come fall

like Im glad it’s not happening in the summer so that maybe this gives me a chance not to go back in fall

don’t get me wrong I’m still Catholic and will still attend the church and probably in fall I’ll attend even more church stuff

but i don’t think I want to make the commitment that I signed anymore

it makes me sad

and when talking to my mom she said something that made me think Wow maybe I should reconsider

i hate myself so much

that has to be the only reason

looking through my tumblr archive I said that I didn’t want to make myself hate me anymore and I think I messed up

I’ve made so many great memories and experiences with the church group and those people are everything they are so kind and genuine and I feel so connected to them

but some of the things they said had my heart BREAKING for them

and i realize it’s also like me I’m just like them

I don’t want to deny myself for the rest of my life but then I think why not just for a few more years

going back to what my mom said

She said “remember the rules of the church are the rules of man” and she said that specifically about my context

i mean my context adjacent but it struck me so hard it felt like a slap

The church group is such a meaningful place of people with shared identity and experience as me like talking with them They Get It

but i think maybe i should just decide to be far too busy come fall semester

i don’t want to leave the slack message because I don’t want the leader of the ministry to reach out and then I’d have to answer

and i don’t know what id say

If I would lie and say that I can’t fit it in my schedule (I would have to confess to that lie in reconciliation)

or if I would say the truth that I don’t know if I agree with the ministry anymore

and I’d feel so judged

even if I wasn’t judged I know that they would think of me a certain way

and Im not going to leave the church so there is not much I can do about it

i had thought about maybe leaving ti join the other Catholic Church in my city but that’s actually a decent drive away

The last time I went to confession had me feeling awful

It was so bad

and i don’t know how I feel about the ministry

i don’t know what to do

i wish I could talk to someone about it but I can’t I truly cant

i can’t talk to the people in the ministry because I don’t want them to know that I’m doubting this hard if I don’t leave and if I do I want it to be a clean break

they know my doubts that’s part of the ministry but not to this extent

and i can’t talk to the people in my life about it because they either don’t know I’m gay or don’t know that I go to that ministry

my friends know I’m religious but I know they would look at me So Incredibly Differently if they knew that the ministry I was going to every week is a sexuality and gender ministry. km embarrassed by it even though I thought it was what I needed to be closer with God

i went there after I was hurting: my return to church was largely inspired by the anniversary of an awful time

i have so many complex thoughts that I need to go theough

i think it would be best for me to leave the ministry and just attend more regular church stuff

i just hate the idea of the members knowing that I was in it and left

ahhhh

i need to reflect on this more I’m struggling so much

Im in part thinking of this so much because I am seeing them in person again this week for something unrelated to the ministry and it leaves me to wonder if they would halt their friendship with me if I stopped going

like technically since membership is like secret and I haven’t met them at other church events it’s like we have never met so idk idk idk

i want guidance

and Im not talking divine guidance I just want someone to talk to me and be like friend what are you doing

because i don’t know what I’m doing

[mysterious-ocarina]

Fortissimo

Request: hi again!! i can’t get over your writing omg- could you do another remus x reader? im actually obsessed with him haha. reader is sirius’ twin but is really quiet almost mute most of the time(bc of family trauma). they draw really well and draws remus the most. one day reader is out and sirius finds their sketches and shows it to the rest of the marauders and when reader comes back they get loud for the first time bc they’re touching their book. i love the idea of sirius sibling reader it’s taking over my brain!

A/N Dedicated to the anon who's been waiting since the beginning of January for this! my longest fic yet and I'm sorry it took me so long to start writing it <3

Main Masterlist HP Masterlist Requests AO3

(2.9k words)

If someone were to ask anyone about you, the first thing they would say is how quiet you are and how much of an opposite you were to Sirius, your obnoxious twin brother. You loved Sirius and when he moved into the Potter home, you were graciously invited and followed Sirius. This is how you became close to The Marauders. Everyone knew that the Black family was dysfunctional but you and Sirius coped with the family troubles in opposing ways. While Sirius was always loud and rebellious, you were more stand-offish and reserved. Sirius always knew this, but his friends found it to be quite the surprise.

The Marauder who was the least put off by your nature was Remus Lupin. He understood the want for silence as well as how annoying your brother could get. This is likely why you may or may not have developed the tiniest crush of sorts on the werewolf. You guys often spent time alone in each other's presence. You with your sketchbook, and Remus with a book. This was your favorite time of the day because Remus often gave you inspiration to draw.

On one hand, he would tell you about whatever story or topic that he was reading about so you would draw whatever he was talking about. On the other hand, he gave you inspiration even when he wasn’t talking. Your sketch book was your prized possession. You never let anyone look at it. Sometimes you would show off your sketches of random things to your friends but that was it. You didn’t want anyone, especially Sirius with his blabbermouth, to see all of the sketches you have of Remus. 

Drawing Remus during your time together started off normal. You simply wanted to get better at drawing faces and such and he just happened to be with you. Over time though, as you started to fall for him, your sketches started to become less about anatomy lessons and more about the way Remus looked peaceful curled up reading a book. Or how the scars on his face made him more attractive even if he didn’t think so. Or how his shirt clung to him in all the best ways. In your head, you defended yourself saying that it was still about anatomy, that you're learning how to draw facial expressions, facial features, and how clothing works on a body. But you knew, it had nothing to do with that. You were just desperately in love with Remus and this was the only way to express it.

“What are you thinking about?” Remus asked aloud, peering over his book at you.

Blushing, you replied with a short, “Nothing.”

You focused back on your sketchbook and realized that you were so distracted by your thoughts, that you hadn’t even been drawing. Your sketch was only the outline of a faceless body. You didn’t start drawing Remus and with your mind still distracted, you put your sketchbook down on the coffee table in front of you. 

“How is my favorite twin doing?” Sirius asked, ruffling your hair from behind you. He hopped over the back of the couch you and Remus shared and took the seat in between the both of you.

“I’m your only twin,” you grunted, slapping his hand away. “Unless you count James, who’s hip you seem to be attached to all the time.”

“Well, unlike you, I have a best friend. . . Or friends in general,” Sirius offered you a smirk.

“I have a lot of friends. I even have a best friend,” you replied, stubbornly. You didn’t have a single friend outside the Marauder boys. You were decently close with Lily and Marlene, your roommates, but the person you were closest with was Remus. There was no way that you would admit in front of the boys that Remus was the closest thing you had to a best friend, who you have a fat fucking crush on.

“Oh, really? Name one friend, that isn’t one of us 4,” at his request, James and Peter sat down on the chairs around you, coming from seemingly nowhere, and joined the conversation.

“She probably can’t. She loves us too much to have other friends,” James said with the most prideful look on his face.

This argument was petty and stupid, you realized. You weren’t really in the mood to bicker with Sirius right now. You were also embarrassed by their teasing because Remus hadn’t said a single thing to add. You wondered if he knew that you were only close with him.

“It’s called quality over quantity. I know you don’t know what that means with the amount of guys and girls you. . . affiliate with,” you remarked. It was no secret from anyone that Sirius was a bit of a playboy around school.

Remus suppressed a giggle at your comment and started to laugh harder at Sirius’ fake offense to your suggestion.

“Shouldn’t you be on my side?” Sirius raised a brow at Remus.

“Maybe,” Remus shrugged, giving you a wide smile. You smiled back with a blush adorning your face.

As the conversation lulled, everyone started to do their own thing. James and Sirius played a serious match of wizard chess as Peter watched on, stuffing his mouth with some Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. Remus was still on the opposite side of the couch as you, with his nose tucked firmly into the book he was reading.

Later that night, you were alone with Remus in the boys’ dorm, sitting across from each other on Remus’ bed.

“You’ve never told me why no one is allowed to see your sketchbook, not even me,” Remus mentioned, adorning the cutest pout you’ve ever seen.

Avoiding his gaze, you softly replied “It’s just private, that’s all.”

“If I had your talents, I would be showing it off to whoever I could,” Remus smirked at you.

“A showboat Gryffindor. How unusual,” sarcastically replying, but a smile still threatened to take over your face.

“Admit it, the show offs in Gryffindor keep this school alive. . . and the ladies swooning,” Remus told you with a laugh.

“Absolutely no ladies are being swooned by the Marauders, I can tell you that,” you lied.

“I can think of a few ladies,” Remus looked right at you. Your heart stuttered in your chest.

Did he know that you liked him?

Was he flirting with you?

There's no way he could like you back, right?

Before your thoughts could spiral anymore, the rest of the Marauders entered the room. You think you hear Remus give an exasperated sigh but you decide you’re being delusional.

“Time for you to leave,” Sirius gives you a head pat. “Can’t have my twin in detention for being out past curfew.”

“I get it, I get it,” you swat Sirius’ hand away from your hair, for the millionth time in your life. “I’ll see you losers tomorrow.”

With a wave and a look, mostly in Remus' direction, you bid the boys goodnight. You wouldn’t realize until too late, but you left your sketchbook sitting on your brother’s nightstand.

REMUS

“Shit, look at this,” Sirius whispered, picking up a leather bound book from his nightstand.

“Is that y/n’s sketchbook?” James asked, wide eyed.

“Let’s take a look inside,” Sirius exclaimed. With wide eyes, Remus shot up and attempted to grab the book from his friend.

“We shouldn’t do that. It’s an invasion of their privacy. Even I’m not allowed to look inside,” Remus sighed. He understood how important the book was to you. Even though he was as curious as the others to see inside, he would never want to ruin your trust in him.

“Come on, Moony. She’ll never know that we took a little peek inside,” Sirius claimed. Remus didn’t know what else to say so he just laid back in bed and tried to ignore his gossiping friends.

“Well, well, well. That is not at all what I was expecting,” James whispered. “Explains why they didn’t want us to see it.”

“Moony, come take a look at this. You’ll love it,” Sirius pleaded, excitedly.

“Unlike you guys, I don’t want them to hate me for invading their privacy,” Remus replied, exhausted.

“Trust me, they could never hate you. Just come here,” Sirius pulled Remus from his bed and brought him to look down at the sketchbook.

Remus blushed as he saw most of the pages filled with different drawings of him, some filled with cheesy hearts and flowers. He was surprised to see that most of the portraits had a little comment under them. The comments were about different stories that he told you.

He adored telling you stories, especially from whatever book had captured his attention that week. He never realized you actually listened to them or even cared enough to write them down for later.

“Someone has a crush on you Moony,” Sirius smirked.

And at the worst time possible, you walked right into their dorm and Remus watched as you took in the scene before you.

YOU

You were already all the way to your dorm by the time you realized that you left your sketchbook. You debated between leaving it there overnight, but a gut feeling pulled you back to the boys’ dorm. Not bothering to knock, you entered the room.

“Someone has a crush on you Moony,” Sirius smirked. All of the boys were crowded around Sirius’ bed and a blushing Remus.

“What’s going on here?” you nervously asked.

All 4 boys turned to you with the guiltiest faces possible. With them facing you, instead of hunched over the bed, you could see what captivated their attention. A familiar leather bound book.

You felt your stomach drop to the floor and tears threatening to fall. Silently, you walked up to the bed, not looking anyone in the eye, and harshly grabbed the book.

You were about to leave the room, when Sirius spoke up. “Hey, y/n. Wait-”

“No!” you screamed, turning to face the boys. All 4 of the Marauders shrunk at the sound of your voice. You never yelled before, especially at them. You were always level-headed and calm but the anger rolled off of you in waves at this moment.  Remus tried to think of a time where you unleashed any kind of anger like this, but couldn’t think of one. Not even when you were ambushed by Slytherins, did you yell.

Sirius felt so much guilt at the sound of your voice, that he almost thought you walked up and slapped him. But no, you stayed glued to your spot next to the door.

You were seething. You never asked for much, always grateful for anything you had. You didn’t care when they annoyed you, pulled silly pranks on you, or even got you in trouble with the professors.

“What the hell is wrong with all of you?” you paused to collect your thoughts. “I’ve only ever asked you guys for one thing. Not invading my privacy. That was all I ever asked of you four. And here I find you guys doing exactly that.”

Your yelling was so loud that each of the boys wondered if the silencing charm around their dorm could contain it.

“And don’t get me started on you,” you pointed a heated finger at Sirius. “As my brother, growing up in the same shit household, I thought you of all people would understand privacy and trust. Looks like I was wrong.”

With that said, you turned around to leave. Opening the door, you shot one pitiful look at Remus before making your way back to your dorm.

REMUS

“Fuck,” Sirius cursed. You guys never fought and it was obvious in Sirius’ distress. “We’ll fix this. We have to.”

“Well on the bright side, we know that they like Remus as much as Remus likes them,” James tried to soothe.

“Yeah, well any chance I had, is now gone,” Remus sighed, solemnly. He was the only one who saw the tears in your eyes as you looked back at him.

“We’ll fix everything in the morning. Don’t worry,” James tried to comfort. 

With tired sighs, the boys did their best to go to sleep that night.

YOU

Fuck. You yelled at the boys. The embarrassment of the entire situation muted the anger you had for them. You were beyond angry about what they did, but even more embarrassed about what you were sure they found. No doubt had they realized how much you cared about Remus.

Oh, Merlin. Don’t even think about Remus. He didn’t utter a single world to you last night. He didn’t even stop you from walking out the door.

Walking into the Great Hall, you found the Marauders with their heads casted down, with depressed looks on their faces.

In no way did you forgive them, but you decided to take pity on them.

Wordlessly, you sat next to Sirius and across from Remus. You filled your plate with your favorite breakfast foods and ate.

The silence that overtook the group would have amused you under different circumstances. This group of boys did not know how to keep their mouths shut.

Your silent eating was only disrupted when you felt someone lightly tap your foot. You looked up to find Remus staring at you with an unreadable expression except for the blush staining his cheeks. You offered him a small smile back.

One look at all the boys staring at you had your heart cracking. You couldn’t be sure, but you thought that Sirius might even have unshed tears in his eyes.

You finally decide to speak up. “I’m still mad at you guys, but you are forgiven.”

“Oh, thank Merlin,” Sirius hugged you tight. The force almost knocked you out of your seat. “I’m so sorry. I promise, anything like that will never happen again. I never want to do anything that would make you yell at us.”

The love in your brother’s voice made you tear up as you tightly hugged him back. You realized that you could never stay mad at these boys forever.

Breakfast passed quickly after that, the usual jokes and conversations starting up. Once the meal was over, James and Sirius headed off to quidditch practice and Peter headed to his tutoring sessions. This left you alone with Remus, making you beyond nervous.

Grabbing your hand softly, Remus whispered, “Come to the Astronomy Tower with me, please.”

“Of course,” you easily replied. You were nervous to find out what awaited you but with the tight grip Remus had on your hand, you felt your bad thoughts fly away.

The walk up the stairs to the Astronomy tower was agonizingly long but Remus never once let his hand slip from yours.

Your mind was wandering the entire time. Had he looked through your book? You’re sure he did because he seemed embarrassed last night. Did he not like what he saw? He knew that you drew him because sometimes he would catch your eyes as you sketch away. But maybe he didn’t know the extent to which you drew him. Maybe he was uncomfortable with your small obsession with him.

“We’re here,” Remus whispered, derailing you from your current train of thought. With a smile, he pulled you over to one of the railings and you both stood there taking in the view. In the distance, you could see red robes whizzing around the quidditch field.

“Do you promise you’re not mad at us anymore?” Remus asked you with a hopeful smile.

With a blush and a sigh, you replied, “I promise. There’s no way I can stay mad at you guys forever.”

“Good. I don’t want my favorite lady to be mad at me,” Remus flirted. Your whole body felt like it heated up at his comment.

“Don’t tease me,” you snapped with an embarrassed huff. You didn’t need him to rub your crush on him in your face.

With wide eyes, Remus replied, “I’m not teasing you.”

You finally looked up at him, whispering “Then what are you doing?”

He looked into your eyes. Silence hung in the air but you didn’t care because of the twinkle in his eyes as he looked down at you.

Before you realized what was happening, his lips were on yours.

You stood still for a second, taking time to process what was happening. It didn’t take you long to kiss him back with almost as much fervor and passion as he was kissing you. His hands made their way from your waist to your hair. He was holding you as if he never wanted to let you go.

This close to you, he smelled of sandalwood and old books. He felt like heaven against you, and you never wanted this to end.

All too soon, Remus pulled away from you, leaving you to lightly trail your lips after him. He gave you a dashing smile, panting from the kiss.

You gave him a dazed smile of your own, excited for what was ahead of you.

Still panting and with a light blush covering his cheeks and nose, Remus winked at you. “Have I made you swoon?”

With a roll of your eyes and a pat on his chest, “I don’t know. Kiss me again and I might tell you.”

Remus laughed at your remark before bending down to kiss you again. This time slowly, as if the world revolved around you and time stopped.

[undiscovered-horizon]

"I met you tomorrow" - The Corinthian x GN!Reader

🫀REQUESTS ARE OPEN🫀

A/N: did my best to make it gender-non-specific but if I have missed any detail please do message me!🌺 Also Lovecraft reference bc I love Cthulu Mythos

SUMMARY: You have a recurring nightmare in which a stranger shows up and tells you to wake up. Then one day you run into a weirdly familiar man, who seems to know you.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.8k

They say that all faces seen in dreams are faces one had seen before - that a human mind simply cannot invent a new visage. What people foolishly omit while sharing such wisdom is that time does not work the same in the Dream World as it does in the Waking World. Yes, aside from faces past, one might stumble upon a face from the future. Maybe that's what happened to you?

You couldn't quite remember when was the first time you dreamt that nightmare but ever since it has been stuck to you like a thistle to a sweater. At least once a week you'd find yourself back at your secondary school, after hours with a creature of darkness looming in the corner of your eyes. You always run even though each time you looked around the corner or over your shoulder, there was completely nothing. Despite that, you could feel those disgusting tentacles of eldritch malice reaching out to grab you. What happens when the entity catches you - you never knew as you always wake up before it can happen. Not that you would want to find out. The nightmare was always so severe and realistic that you grew to fear the darkness and shadows of the Waking World even if your reason assured you that the shapeless terror was but a figment of your imagination.

There's that strange man in the nightmare - he always tells you to wake up or stand up and fight against the malice that haunts you. He always wears light-coloured clothes and carries a straw Panama hat with him. Despite your utmost terror at the creature reaching out to grab you and pull you into the endless pit of sorrow and fear, the strange man is always relaxed, amused even. You often run into him as he sits in the empty canteen or in one of the deserted classrooms, sipping on a colourful drink with an umbrella. There's a strange feeling of safety and reassurance whenever he's around as if some part of you knew that the formless malice couldn't hurt you while the stranger was there. Sometimes he'd remind you that it was only a dream and you had nothing to fear, while other times he'd have a small chat with you before pulling out something from his jacket and giving it to you: a knife, a gun (even a water gun once), a flare and many others. No matter what manner of weaponry he gifts you, it always works like a charm - the terrible beast of old retreats into its den in the land of misery and you wake up to sunlight crawling into your bedroom.

That night wasn't like any other: you were running through the dull, twisted and deserted corridors of the school. You could hear the slapping and slurping of tentacles slithering across the linoleum floor. Every now and then one of the famished maws would bite loudly at the air, their crooked fangs clicking against one another as if Hell could have its own doorbell. And yet, each time you dared to look over your shoulder, the corridors remained empty. The only sound that echoed throughout the building was your own rushed footsteps.

It was hard to breathe. No matter how deep of a breath you took, your lungs could only inhale a little air like something was constricting your airways. Your chest burned as you panted, never slowing down your maniacal escape even if your legs burned. Tired and with hopelessness gnawing at your heart, you stumbled over your own feet.

But before you could hit the ground, too tired and slow to resume your run from the shapeless demon hunting you, someone caught you. To your own surprise, your eyes were met with a suit jacket in the familiar creamy-beige colour. You looked up only to see the stranger you've grown somehow attached to. He was chewing spearmint gum and smiling at you in a fond yet nonchalant manner.

"It's you," you said quietly as if you couldn't quite believe your own eyes. But truthfully, how could you be surprised? After all, he's always been there - every time you were running from that beast you knew nothing about.

In a joking manner, the man looked down inspecting his body and clothes before looking back at you. "I should hope so," he answered with amusement seeping from his voice.

Gratefully using the support he kindly offered, you stood once again on your own feet. The wet, disgusting slush resounded far away, deep inside the building and surely far away from you. That man... in his presence, the sounds of the nightmare's slithering across the floor didn't strike fear in your heart. There was a strange sensation of illusive safety around him as if the security he provided was merely the product of other creatures' fear of him. As somebody once had elegantly put it: "There's always a bigger fish".

"Who are you, really?" you asked. It was a question you could never quite let go, something that bothered you anytime you were running through those deserted halls. Yes, who could he be? Even more importantly: why was he?

"Take a guess."

"Casper the Friendly Ghost?" Perhaps it was strange to stop by and tell jokes while the shapeless, eldritch terror was still after you but you knew this segment of your nightmare a little too well - the man's presence always happened at the very end of the night terror. The dawn was close and so was the relief it brings you.

The man let out a breathy chuckle. Maybe he didn't find it funny but it surely was entertaining to him in some way. "Quite the contrary, actually. I'm more of a... nightmare if you will."

You couldn't help but laugh at his words. Maybe if he said them with a little more seriousness, you would have been inclined to believe him. There was nothing horrible about the stranger but perhaps that was the most severe weapon of them all: the beautiful colours of a Heliamphora. And yet, staring into the gaping mouth of a lion, you never once felt threatened by its teeth.

"Of course you are a nightmare. You’re a little too alluring to be something good."

The corner of his mouth pulled up in an amused smirk. "Are you flirting with me?"

"Is it working?"

"I don't know, I think you need to indulge me a little more."

"So, what do you propose we do about it?" you diverted the conversation while vaguely pointing at the corridor behind you.

The Corinthian looked over your shoulder for a mere moment, the furrow of his eyebrows disappearing as swiftly as it had appeared. "Shub-Niggurath?" he asked. His voice was slightly raised in confusion as if he never thought of taking any action against the mass of teeth and tentacles. "Nah, I wouldn't mind him. We're not on good terms and he knows exactly how well it went for him the last time he got under my skin."

"Wait, you guys are like colleagues or something? Friends?"

"More like brothers from another mother. The same father though."

There was, however, something else still on your mind. By his slightly raised eyebrows, you could tell he knew but decided to wait instead of coaxing the curiosity out of you.

"Can I ask you something else?"

"Shoot."

"Why do we keep meeting here?"

"Truthfully, I find you fascinating." The Corinthian was also painfully bored but confessing that part of his non-existent heart could make you a little too reluctant towards him for his liking: there were many things you and he were yet to do. "I've seen Shub-Niggurath's work and most of the dreamers are too scared to fall asleep ever again. And yet you come back regularly, fighting or running but always refusing to give up. I'm not sure if you're brave or reckless."

"Recklessness requires bravery, doesn't it?"

He stared at you for a moment with a smile dancing across his face. The silence felt enigmatic for you weren't sure what to expect from a man like him but it never once was awkward or tense. "Well, I suppose we'll have to reschedule our little chat," the stranger spoke up finally. "It's time for you to go. Rise and shine, sweetheart."

As all things dreamy and ethereal, the vividness of the school corridors and the man with a Panama hat disappeared when you opened your eyes. Until you dream of them again, they were to remain but a grain of sand on the beach of forgetting - a memory once remembered. Remnants of the terror you've experienced were still leaving your body and mind as you sat up on your bed, panting heavily. Each time you closed your eyes to blink you'd see a passing mirage of the bleak corridors and a shapeless mass of teeth and jointless limbs extending towards you. The small lamp on your bedside table was still on like you left it in the evening. Behind the curtains, the sky was still a beautiful shade of deep blue but stars were no longer brightening the dark firmament - dawn was approaching in hasty strides.

Knowing that the night couldn't offer you any more rest, you got dressed and decided to walk through the sleeping city. There was a certain tranquil melancholy, if not a sense of loneliness, to observing life yet to wake up. For a moment, all those people were as one, no grievances or anger remained in their hearts. Their minds weren't stained with the vapid burden of existence that weighs them down during their waking hours.

"Can't sleep?" you heard someone ask behind you.

You turned around only to see a man you felt you should recognize. He was dressed in a light-coloured suit and wore blackout sunglasses despite the Sun not having risen yet - the sky was becoming lighter over the Eastern horizon. During such early morning hours, the weather is rather vicious, cold and windy, and the man looked to be dressed a little too lightly for such time and circumstances. Despite that, he didn't appear to be cold.

The strange feeling wouldn't leave your thoughts. It was hard to put it into words really - it felt as if you had once known him, in some another time and another place; like you once remembered that you used to remember him as if the memory of him was woven into the dust of your bones. Perhaps it was that strange, subliminal familiarity that rid you of hesitation or reluctance in approaching him.

"I'm afraid of what I might see there," you answered him. It was an eccentricity you had grown used to: you knew there was something terrifying in your dreams but you could never quite recall what it was exactly.

"Oh, I'm sure you're being missed there, sweetheart." It wasn't a complete lie, not really. The Corinthian did miss having you in his own dominion, in the world where he held the most power over you. "I know I would."

"Are you flirting with me?"

"Is it working?"

"I don't know, I think you need to indulge me a little more."

To your best knowledge, the two of you were the only witnesses to the glory of a waking Sun. And in his first act of mercy, the Golden God washes human fears away along with the darkness of the night.

[honeytae]

if you’re open for regular requests i’d love to request lil scenarios of the boys learning english alongside their english-speaking s/o! this is totally self-indulgent i’m doing the TEFL program and i’m going to south korea next year to teach :)

first of all, that’s amazing omg!! congratulations my love, i hope you have the best time over there and please don’t be shy in sharing your stories with us!!! i tried to stick to the boys actually learning english with their s/o but i strayed from that with a few members just bc i ran out of ideas lol but i hope you still enjoy!

fair warning....i’ve never ~seriously~ tried to learn korean, so i’m not entirely certain of the parallels between korean and english. i just hope these are wholesome enough to override that lmao

namjoon:

“You know,” Namjoon looked up from his phone, “I understand expanding your vocabulary, but why are there so many weird slang words?”

“Kids these days?” You shrugged, the man chuckling in response before flipping his phone around to show you what had puzzled him.

“If something slaps, that’s...good?” He wondered, watching as you suppressed a smile at the tweet he was showing you.

You could tell by the profile picture that the user was an ARMY, one of the many fan profiles on the platform, and the tweet was written completely in English.

Although there was a ‘Translate to Korean’ option readily available with just a tap of his thumb, you knew Namjoon never missed an opportunity to challenge himself to be able to fully comprehend what a native English speaker was trying to say.

You nearly snorted at the tweet’s content, smiling as you read it out loud.

“The Dis-ease bridge just saved my life. Seriously, this song slaps.”

Glancing at Namjoon, he raised his eyebrows, eagerly waiting for you to translate and explain what that could equate to in Korean.

“It’s definitely a good thing, Joon. They love it.”

At your interpretation, Namjoon grinned, nodding to himself as he pulled his phone back in front of his face to scroll through more reaction tweets to the new album release.

seokjin:

“What the hell is that?”

You picked your head up from your sketchbook when you heard Seokjin whine from beside you, eyebrows knitting together at his distressed tone. Taking a glance over at his laptop screen, you found his mouse bouncing from letter to letter on one of his weekly english lessons.

“What is that, like 15 letters? How do you even use that in a sentence?” He went on, obviously flustered by the word on the screen.

Pulchritudinous.

You placed your hand over his to stop his panicked counting of the letters, causing him to look over at you with a sigh as he frowned.

You nearly giggled at his reaction, but the genuine fear in his eyes made you stifle it as you soothingly held his hands in yours. 

“It’s just an over complicated way of saying beautiful. I don’t know why they’re teaching you that, nobody ever uses it.” You assured him, his eyes going down in size a bit at your words before he nodded.

Watching as a smirk tilted his lips, you raised your brows at the sudden expression.

“What?”

“Well like, I could say I’m...that?” He said, eyebrows raised cockily as he gestured to the long word stretched across the screen.

“Well it’s actually not used like,” you paused, giving in with a shrug as you grinned back at him.

“Sure, love.”

yoongi:

“Why did I skip English class all the time?” Yoongi sighed, pinching his bottom lip between his fingers as he plucked at the skin in frustration.

“Because you were trying to be a rebel.” You answered without looking up from your phone, the man obviously not liking your answer as he reached over to where you were laying beside him to pinch at your hip.

Yelping, you scooted across the mattress to get away from his hand, whining his name with a scoff before looking over at his notepad.

“What are you doing, anyway?” You asked, leaning on your palm as you scanned the rows of scribbled English letters written on the page.

“I’m trying to get better at writing.” He admitted shyly, a small grin on his face to match the fond one on your own. 

“Aw,” you pouted, Yoongi raising his eyebrows at your tone, “but I like your chicken scratch.”

“You’re such a brat.” He chuckled, adjusting the velcro on his brace with a grunt.

Since Yoongi’s shoulder surgery took away obvious straining activities like dancing and performing, he’d turned to studying English from the comfort of your bed during his recovery as one of the only safe activities he could partake in for a while.

It was now one of his favorite past times, learning new words and phrases he could potentially use in the future. It worked for you both because it took his mind off the pain and kept him motivated, and since you could speak both his and your language, you could help him out whenever he got stuck on something.

Usually he did lessons verbally on his phone, but it seemed today he had taken the old fashioned route.

“Your handwriting really isn’t bad, Yoongs.” You observed, the carefully placed tails at the end of each ‘a’ making you smile out of fondness for the man.

“My man has the prettiest handwriting.” You cooed, pushing a strand of his stark black hair out of his eyes as he blushed down at his notebook.

“Stop that.”

hoseok:

“Hey, babe?” Hoseok called for you, listening to your footsteps growing closer before you popped your head into the kitchen doorway.

“Yeah?”

“I’m having a little trouble.” He gestured to his open laptop on the counter, you recognizing it as an assignment from his English course.

“What happened?”

“Pronouns. Pronouns happened.” He pouted, his disdain for the new chapter quite obvious as he stared down his computer screen.

“What about them?” You asked, stepping closer to the man sitting at the kitchen island and placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“I need to make ten sentences using proper pronouns and I feel like I’m doing it all wrong.” He explained, causing you to hum as you looked over his sentences.

“These look great, Hobi.” You smiled as you glanced over the first three he’d written, flawlessly executed on the document.

“Can you help me with the next one?” He wondered, you nodding your head as you took a seat on the stool next to his.

“What do you want the next one to say?” You asked, watching as he glanced off to the side in thought, slightly squinting his eyes at the tile floor beneath the sink.

“My house is next to,” He spoke in English, pausing as he searched his brain for what pronoun to put next.

“Theys?” He answered as more of a question, then shaking his head as he switched back to Korean, “wait, no.” He sighed, placing his chin in his hand in thought before glancing over to you.

“I know it’s wrong, I just don’t know what the right answer is instead.” He explained, you shooting him a loving smile as you pushed the dark raven hair off his forehead and pressed a kiss to the newly revealed skin.

“I’ll help you, Sunshine. No worries.”

jimin:

Flopping onto the bed, you let your tired body fall on top of Jimin’s hoodie clad chest, his arm encircling your body as he mumbled a soft greeting to you.

“Hm, what are you learning about today?” You nuzzled into his chest, peering at his phone propped up on his thigh.

“Animals. Birds, mostly.” He answered, briefly turning from the screen to press a kiss to your head before focusing back on the row of English words matched with pictures of popular birds glowing from the device.

The first was a robin, the next a blue jay, and then a dove.

You listened as the virtual instructor prompted Jimin to repeat after her, spelling out the letters before stating the whole word. You smiled as your boyfriend followed instruction, pronouncing the words the best he could after the microphone chimed for him to do so.

“D-o-v-e. Dove.”

“Dove.” He repeated, smiling to himself as the app announced he got the point with a little heart.

“That’s cute.” He went back to his native language, you humming in confusion as you lifted your head up off his chest to look at him.

“The heart?” You asked, reaching up to twist a stray strand of hair out of his eye as he shook his head.

“Dove.” He said again, making you tilt your head, not knowing what he meant.

“It sounds like ‘love.’” He connected the two English words, you smiling fondly at him in response before scooting up the bed to kiss the tip of his button nose.

“You’re so cute.”

taehyung:

Three knocks at the door announced someone’s arrival to your bedroom, causing your head to lift from the novel you’d been so immersed in. Taehyung was home, but you’d wanted to give him space because you knew he needed to work on lyrics for his mixtape in order to submit them on time. 

“Hey,” he poked his head in with a small smile, “can you help me with something?” He asked sheepishly, stepping further into the room when you nodded.

“Of course. What is it?” You set your book down, marking your place before closing it to pay full attention to your boyfriend.

“Well, I’m trying to write this verse in English and,” he trailed off with a shrug, “you know.” He finished, you nodding in response with a gesture for him to come sit next to you.

He eagerly walked over to you with his notebook in hand, lowering himself to the mattress before rolling his way over to where you were leaning against the headboard.

Honestly, Taehyung’s English wasn’t bad at all. He was insecure about it, but you’d never really understood what the reason for that feeling was. His vocabulary was more than decent, his comprehension was good, and his pronunciation was great for having such a thick accent.

But there were many times where Taehyung came to you for guidance, as you were a native English speaker yourself.

And so, as he rested his head on your shoulder confiding in you about everything he wanted to say and how he wanted to say it, you patiently took him through what would work and rhyme best, smiling as he hummed the melody to himself to see if the phrases would work in his creation.

jungkook:

“Baby, can you read it to me again before we go on? Just one more time.”

You glanced over at your boyfriend in his makeup chair, several employees bustling around the man as they attempted to get him ready to go on stage while they had him seated.

With his arm extended backward to where you stood behind his leather chair, he offered his phone to you while shooting you a grin through the reflection in the mirror.

Taking the device from his hand, you opened it to the notes app where he’d written what he wanted to say in his statement on stage in just a few minutes.

You were in London tonight, which meant that all of the boys had been rehearsing their English so that they could communicate easier with their audience.

Jungkook, ever the over-achiever, was determined to do the toughest English tongue twister he could possibly find. Not only that, but in a British accent for his British ARMY’s.

“Betty bought a bit of better butter to make her bitter butter better.” You read from the phone, barely able to read the sentence yourself before you glanced up at Jungkook through the mirror again.

You watched your boyfriend nod as his brain took in the words you’d just said, taking a deep inhale before he began speaking the phrase back to you.

You gawked as the man effortlessly repeated after you, a few of the makeup artists stopping as well as Jungkook raised his eyebrows back at you.

“Was that okay?”

[fandom-monium]

Kinky but Not Really

Summary: In which you make an odd request, and Spencer tries to fulfill it. “I don’t want to disrespect you...”

WC: 1.8k

TW: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader, fluff, cussing, established relationships (blegh), light use of sexual themes including light degradation, light violence, and the slamming into walls (nothing explicitly sexual or nsfw bc im a wimp), specifically post-prison Reid, ft. Garvez and Rossi

Spencer loves you. He’s never doubted that for a second.

Your laugh as you throw your head back. Your eyes, the way they crinkle when you grin too wide. Even your style, whether you’re in joggers or suits, just does something to him he can't quite explain. Really, he loves you. 

Even if you’re weird.

Spencer knew what he was getting into, okay? He didn’t consider it earlier in your friendship, but as time went on and you two grew more comfortable around each other it became apparent that he wasn’t the only… outlier in the team. By the time you officially got together, he was already used to it.

But somehow you still manage to surprise him.

“You want me to what?” 

“I know it’s a lot to ask,” You wince as Spencer coughs. With his sleeve, he wipes the coffee dribbling down his chin, staring at you as if someone hit you over the head. It has to be the only viable explanation, considering what you’ve just asked him. “But hear me out.”

Spencer sits up and sets his mug on the coffee table. “Wh...what? Why? No-what? When?”

You wring your hands together, shifting your weight foot to foot as he squints at you. “Okay. When: um, some time after you came back from prison? I think? Why, I’m not sure. That’s why I’m asking you.” 

“I don’t know, (Your Name),” Spencer rolls his lips together, anything and everything that could possibly go wrong racing through his mind. 

“Nothing extreme! I don’t expect you to slap me across the face⏤”

“Oh my god⏤”

“Just small things! Start off light,” You think for a moment. “Like shoving me around or smacking me. Calling me names.”

“I hear where you’re coming from, but I don’t want to…” He flushes, his voice hushed like what he's about to say is forbidden, “disrespect you.”

You take his hands in yours with a bright smile, “Hon, I love you, but please. I’m the one asking you to get violent with me.”

“What the-when did you up your demands?”

You continue, “Like, if you think about it, you’d be doing me a favor. Respecting my wishes by ‘disrespecting’ me. So, what do you think?” You watch him carefully, legs tucked under you, a hopeful sparkle in your eyes. He can almost see the dog tail wagging behind you.

How can he say no?

"Alright, if that's what you really want," Spencer sighs, smiling as you break out into a grin. He laughs when you tackle him into the couch, thanking him repeatedly. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll try. But starting tomorrow.”

“That’s fine!” You sit up, smiling down at him. Your lips wiggle as you try to suppress your anticipation. “No pressure, just do what you feel comfortable with and we’ll see from there?”

Spencer bites his lip and nods. “Sure.”

⏤

The men of the BAU are distinct; you can tell just by looking at them.

David Rossi, though the eldest, the senior, is suave and has a level of sophistication that could only come with age. It’s in his blazers, his stride, the warm yet knowing eyes. A reassurance that eases the people around him.

Matt Simmons rocks the young dad vibes, with the smooth-shaven face and simple clothing. Not to mention a smile that makes him good with both children and adults alike.

Then there’s Luke.

“You!”

Luke nearly falls out of his chair as Garcia stomps over, sitting up in attention as the click of her pumps grow nearer. “What? What happened?”

“You! You happened,” Garcia hisses, looming over him while Rossi comes up from behind. 

“Penelope, we don’t know for sure⏤”

“Who else could possibly do this? Matt and you could never. Only this troll could have done this,” She whips back on Luke, her eyes⏤usually bright with mischief⏤burning and accusatory. “Fix it!”

And just to tick her off, because that’s the purpose of their relationship: “No.” 

She sputters, fuming pink as her lipstick. And as Luke revels in the oncoming eruption, sneering at Garcia, Rossi⏤that wise geezer⏤squints at him.

“You don’t know what we’re talking about, do you?”

“... Not a clue.”

Maybe I should've retired. Rossi sighs, “Spencer and (Your Name) have been off today, and we think they’re having a fight.”

“And you think I have something to do with that?” Luke's face pinches in offense.

“You didn't see them today, have you?" 

"No?"

Garcia, shaking off her fury, is more than ready to spill the tea. "Kay, so this morning on the way up, I saw Spencer and (Your Name) waiting for the elevator and Spencer just snatched their coffee. And he didn’t even bother to let them into the elevator first.”

Luke frowns, “I mean, it's a bit ungentlemanly but I don’t think that means they’re fighting.”

(Had she shared the lift, she would have seen how apologetic Spencer was, nearly bursting into tears as he hands you the cup of coffee, throwing you whatever cash he has.)

“And during lunch I caught them down the hall by the break room,” Rossi recounts, wincing at the image, “They were talking in hushed tones, then Spencer shoved passed (Your Name) and stalked off.”

(If he’d check on you, he might have caught the proud gleam in your eyes, grinning wide at Spencer’s attempt at getting rough with you.)

“And you still think I’m involved?” Luke raises an eyebrow at Garcia.

She’s completely unapologetic as she scoffs, “Listen, I don’t know how Spencer can stand being friends with you, but clearly you influenced him in some way because before he met you, he was my sweet summer child. Now…” She withholds a sob, Rossi sympathetically patting her shoulder. “You’ve tainted him!”

“I… I don’t know how to respond to that.”

“Then don’t,” Garcia sniffs, drying away tears. “Just bring our Spencer back!”

“Bring me back from what?”

They jump in unison, turning to find Spencer has returned from his break and is now back at his desk. He eyes them curiously as they fumble for an explanation.

“Hey, Doc,” Luke, deciding to end all this turmoil, asks, “Are you and (Your Name) having uh... lovers quarrel?” 

“A what?”

Garcia shoots him a look, “A ‘lovers quarrel’? Really?”

“Well, I doubt they’re fighting, and honestly a lovers quarrel sounds much less intense than⏤you know⏤fighting.”

“No, we are not fighting. Why would you think⏤oh, you saw...” Spencer’s face falls, melting into embarrassment. 

"Saw? Son, we witnessed," Rossi huffs as he crosses his arms and stares down Spencer. "Would you care to explain?"

"I know what you're thinking, but I swear it's not what it looks like. This is..." After his explanation, his embarrassed flush only deepens at their mortified expressions. 

"I've never wanted to be this close to you."

"My sweet summer child is no longer."

"Guys, chill. I for one am glad Spencer is willing to…” Luke gives him an awkward smile, “keep it interesting. The best relationships take effort, right?”

Spencer hums, nodding, “Exactly. We’re doing great⏤”

“Hey, guys,” You greet as usual.

Without missing a beat, he faces you and snaps, “Damn it, (Your Name), for once stop running your mouth and get me a drink.”

Luke, Garcia, and Rossi freeze, gaze switching between Spencer and you, waiting with bated breath. They haven’t seen Spencer remotely like this, not since prison. And despite knowing that you asked for this, they’re fully prepared to throw themselves in front of him just in case. 

But instead of reacting violently as they expected, you pause, taking his poor attempt at a glare in stride. Then you smile, heading to the coffee machine. “Sure, no problem.”

Spencer turns back to them. “See? B-better than ever...”

“Dude, are you crying?”

⏤

“So you couldn't do it, huh?"

Shoulders drooping from exhaustion, Spencer slumps against your desk and sighs, “No, I’m sorry.”

You shrug, “It’s okay. Thanks for trying though. As a reward, let’s get take-out. My treat." You press a kiss to his cheek, but the smile you shoot him only serves to make his heart sink. “Meet me at the elevator, k? I’ll get my things.”

“Okay...” As Spencer shrugs on his satchel, he can’t help the guilt squirming in his stomach. Why does he feel like he disappointed you? Or more accurately⏤didn’t meet your expectations. Sure, you’ve had your fair share of disputes and as Luke put it, “lovers quarrels”, but never has he felt so… defeated.

Is this what failure feels like? It sucks.

So as the elevator shuts, as it dings with every descended level, as you babble about what you should have for dinner, Spencer makes an executive decision. 

A final stand, if you will.

You turn to Spencer, “So, what do you want for dinner⏤”

You yelp as your back hits the wall, the back of your head cushioned by Spencer’s palm because he’d rather kill himself than hurt you, pressing his body against yours. Warmth envelopes him, and as you meet his gaze, he musters all the dark emotions he can, the side of him he didn’t realize he had until prison. He feels it⏤the fury, the disgust, the merciless violence⏤bubble to the surface, and he can’t deny the satisfaction he gets seeing your eyes wide with shock; the entire day you’ve seen him coming, taking every one of his attempts like a joke in spite of his best efforts.

At least now he feels like he’s got the upper-hand.

Spencer leans in, bumping his nose against yours in an Inuit kiss. It’s a gentle contrast to his next words, and as your breath hitches, he bites back a smirk, pulling back to meet your eyes.

“What I want is for you to shut your mouth and put it to good use.”

Your jaw slackens.

The elevator dings and you both jump, Spencer quickly pulling away from you as the door opens to the parking garage. Luckily, no one else is around and Spencer leads the way as you head for your car. But you’re silent as you walk, and he wonders if he went too far. Was he too rough? Disrespectful?

“Hey, (Your Name), are you⏤” Spencer looks over his shoulder, only to halt at your expression. 

You give him a toothy grin, face flushed and eyes crinkling as you tilt your head at him. “Yes?”

...Ah. If you keep looking at him like that, his heart might burst.

Letting his bag drop at his side, Spencer pulls you into a tight hug, and for a moment you sway together, hearts beating in time, breathing steady.

Spencer sighs, “I don’t get it.”

“It’s okay, I don’t get it either!”

He smiles into your shoulder, chuckling. Yeah, he loves you.

Especially because you’re weird.

⏤

AN: hello took a break from studying and wrote this trash at 2 am whoops

to the user that requested some rough d/s smut with degradation and rough play, im sorry but my asexual ass just could not with this one. but as a kinky asexual i rolled with it✨

pls take the “rough” play and “degradation” lightly. it’s not supposed to be accurate representation. this is just reader and spencer experimenting and having fun!!

i love that yall have the hots for post-prison reid while im over here just wanting to tuck him into bed and kill anyone that brings him harm😳

[theepisceswriter]

Can you do a hot scene with Erwin and Zeke x f!reader with daddy kink, both of the men have a *thing* for her bc she’s such a smarty brat/ a tease. They should’ve be pissed at her but she’s way too playful🤑🤫 I leave the rest to your imagination, love your writing <33 anything you wanna add or change feel free to do it 🤍🥺

Bestie....you fr did something with this request right here. Ily for this and I’m so glad you enjoy my writing, I hope you enjoy this little Drabble!

Synopsis: Set in a modern AU, professor!Erwin and his teacher assistant!Zeke both have the hots for one of their students and decide to invite her over for dinner one night so they can all release their shared tension.

TW: Mature things obviously, fembodied!reader (she/her pronouns), face fucking, oral (fem recieving), degradation, daddy kink, teacher/student, threesome, 18+, MINORS DNI! (these are for the drabble underneath the read more)

Word Count: Google docs was trippin so I wasn’t able to get the word count, but just know it’s a 2k+ mini drabble underneath the readmore 

Headcanons

Let me set the scene for you; Erwin is a professor at your college, teaching a small world history evening class and Zeke is his TA basically, acting as a teacher himself sometimes but mostly doing things like helping grade papers, helping students with their work, or working as Erwin’s fulltime assistant. Needless to say, you interact with the two of them on a daily basis quite a lot and it’s no secret to the other students that you’re most definitely their favorite, taking most of their attention away from everyone else. But they could care less, they’re not as passionate about the class or as eager to learn like you; another factor that drew Erwin and Zeke to you. 

You’re a confident, strong book-savvy student who’s always ready to debate and bicker someone, snarky remarks leaving your mouth in an instant, and Zeke and Erwin always end up being the victim of those. Bickers and debates over information lasting the whole class session almost, either you winning and leaving them red in the face or them winning with a smug expression on their features and you storming out the classroom in annoyance. You all meet each other’s energy so well that you can’t help but clash from time to time, but the three of you do get along pretty well. Many times you’ve found yourself lingering after class to talk with them about everything and nothing like you’re all just good friends catching up. Your bond is definitely an interesting one.

It’s after one of these routine after-class talks that they invite you over formally for once, a dinner at Zeke’s house with Erwin and how could you possibly say no to that? A chance to be alone with your hot history teacher and his sexy teacher assistant.

You didn’t expect to be this nervous as you walked down the corridor leading to Zeke’s apartment yet here you were, fingers fidgeting with the rings on your fingers and your toes awkwardly rubbing against each other the closer you got. All the confidence that made your hips swing from left to right as you entered the classroom like you owned the whole school, the usual overtly confident y/n that they were used to was dwindling down into a nervous wreck. But you couldn’t let them see that, let them know the effect that they had on you, so you swallowed those anxious feelings as if they would be digested by your stomach and let a look of smugness take over your features as you made your way up to the door. Your hand ghosted over the cold wood, curling your fingers into a fist ready to knock but before you could even make contact with the door it was swinging open, greeting you with the sight of a smirking Zeke. He wore slacks with a beige plaid pattern going over them, a creme-colored shirt to match the brown of his pants, and an elongated dark brown coat that brought out the lightness of his round glasses perfectly. 

“You look very nice tonight,” You complimented him for once as you made your way inside the apartment, “Finally you don’t look like a caveman for once.” The joke didn’t go over his head at all, him choosing only to acknowledge it with a dry chuckle. “Good evening to you too Ms. /l/n, You look mighty fine yourself.”

It was then that your confidence came rushing back to you as you remembered the outfit that adorned your body. It was a simple silky champagne pink bodycon dress with a corset-like top, but on you, it fit like a supermodel. The dress hugging every curve and dip on your body and showing off a little more cleavage than expected, your nipples even poking out through the thin fabric, but you couldn’t have picked out an outfit more perfect for this night. The constant glances Zeke took unremorsefully at where the dress stopped at the high of your thighs let you know that it was a great choice. Lips curling up into a smile as you thanked him. 

 “Where’s Professor Smith?”

“Just over here in the kitchen, follow me.”

Is this where being a teacher assistant got Zeke? You couldn’t help but admire the decor and set up of his home as he led you through the hallway and living room to the kitchen where Erwin was standing with his back faced to the two of you, broad shoulders contracting and going back to their original form with every shake of the pan in front of him. He was cooking? That’s something you definitely didn’t expect to see, thinking they’d opt-out for takeout for the night, but it just made the night feel more genuine than it already was.

“I thought I had heard you come in, y/n.” Erwin’s rich and smooth voice infiltrated your ears bringing you out of your thoughts. The same smile on your lips from when you thanked Zeke for his compliment earlier. “And please, leave Professor Smith for school. Call me Erwin.” 

“Erwin.” You repeated with a nod, butterflies erupting in your stomach and your cheeks warming up from the wink that followed after his words. “I’m surprised to see you cooking. I was sure you two would have takeout ready on the table when I came. Probably something cheap too like Chili’s.’ You jabbed at them, taking your place at the table while Zeke situated himself against the arch of the opening of the kitchen. Most people would’ve been offended by such a remark, hurt even, but they were so used to your snarkiness that all they could do was chuckle in return.

“Chili’s? No, Mcdonald’s would’ve been more fitting for you.” Zeke messed with you back, warranting your tongue to stick out at him in a childish manner.

“Calm down children,” Erwin joins in on the teasing as he makes his way to the table with three steaks and bowls filled with sides in his other arm, Zeke going over to help him. Dinner wasn’t too eventful, but it was enjoyable. Most of the time wasted away with the three of you talking about various topics the conversation swayed towards like how you usually did. 

The three of you had decided to relocate to the living room after finishing dinner, now washing it down with a glass of wine as you three sat down silently enjoying each other’s company. But silence wasn’t your forte, so it didn’t take long at all for you to move from your position between them on the couch. Both of their eyebrows raised in confusion as they watched you search around the small area looking for whatever it was you were looking for, not knowing what to expect since you were, well, you after all. 

“Found it!” You announced in a sing-song voice as you shimmied your way over the vintage phonograph vinyl player sitting in the middle of Zeke’s living room that must’ve cost him a fortune. And if it didn’t then the extensive rack of vinyl records sitting next to it definitely did. You squatted down so you were face to face with the rack and if you weren’t facing the other direction you would’ve saw the way both of their eyes immediately traveled down to your ass in the squatting position you were in before blue eyes met brown ones, a silent nod signifying confirmation of some sort between the two. 

Any genre or artist you could think of occupied the shelves, your finger skimming over each and every one until you found one that you craved to hear. Soon the soft melodies of the instruments on the smooth jazz record infiltrated the living room, your body contorting and twisting in a sensual way with each beat that hit your ears. The closing of your eyes really showing how into it you were, arms wrapping around your own body like the two men weren’t watching from not too far away as you put on a show like you were in the comfort of your own room. What a tease, the two men thought to themselves, shifting and manspreading to try and soothe the uncomfortable ache between your legs that you were causing. You knew exactly what you were doing because this wasn’t the first time at all that you had done it. Plenty of times you showed up to class with a shirt on that revealed just a little too much or a skirt that practically put your whole lower body on display, legs spreading purposefully whenever you saw one of their eyes travel to the underside of your opened desk. You did everything in your power to make them succumb to their--no, your desires but it wasn’t until now that they let themselves be selfish.

Zeke was the first one to move from his position on the couch to make his way over to you, calloused hands grabbing at your sides and pulling you closer to his torso as he began to sway along with you, hands moving from your hips and letting them explore the surrounding skin before cheekily slapping your ass and earning a small yelp out of you. Erwin simply watched from the couch, for the time being, still sipping on his wine waiting on his opportunity to slip himself in. 

“I figured this would happen eventually,” Zeke finally spoke up, “I just imagined something a lot less sensual; you bent over the desk in the classroom or something.” 

Before you could counter his words with a sassy remark he moved his lips against yours, gently letting them ghost over yours for a second or two and even going as far as teasing you by rubbing them against yours before he finally indulged you with a kiss. The taste of wine and savoriness from dinner still lingering on both of your tongues as you deepened the kiss. Swirling your tongue around in a way that had precum dripping from the tip of his cock as he thought about how good it might feel if it was there instead, slurping the opaque liquid up. As much as you wanted to keep kissing him and let your tongues explore each other he decided that it was time to pull away, trailing kisses from the corner of your mouth to your neck where he gently let his teeth graze over the sensitive flesh, warranting a gentle moan from you.

It was like music to his ears and immediately he decided that he wanted to pull more from your plush lips, letting his kisses trail farther down until his lips were over one of your nipples protruding from the silk fabric, swirling his tongue around the sensitive nub at a painstakingly slow pace that made you want to shove him away from you completely for denying you pleasure.

“No bra on? What a lewd thing to do, but I wouldn’t expect anything like from someone like you.” He murmured against the fabric.

“Someone like me? What’s that supposed to mean?” You questioned, still a bite to your tone like earlier.

“A slut.” Erwin answered for him and it wasn’t until now that you noticed his presence from behind you, chiseled chest pressed up against your back and his breath fanning across your neck distracting you from the hand he brought up to rest at the nape at it. His other hand going down to scrunch your dress up around your waist. Revealing your lacy underwear to their doting eyes and especially to Zeke who was now dropping down to his knees in front of you. “She’s soaking fucking wet. Her panties are dripping with wetness.” 

“You think we didn’t notice all your advances? All the times you traded your integrity just to get our attention like the bad girl you are, huh?” Erwin’s hand moved from the nape of your neck to the front of it, gently squeezing it with his hand and forcing you to look up at him. A chastising look on his features as he stared down at you, making you feel so little and small compared to his towering structure.

You had no words to respond to him with, too caught up in a daze in your head thinking that this couldn’t be true, that this was a dream you were going to wake up from in a couple of minutes. But it was the warmth of Zeke’s tongue prodding at your clit that brought you back to your senses, eyes widening in shock as you looked up at your professor. This was really happening.

“Hm, looks like the brat doesn’t have anything else to say.”

“I think I like her better like this anyway.” The blonde between your legs mumbles, sending a vibrational tingle up your spine and leaving your legs wobbling. He was so messy with it, tongue devouring you like you were the 2nd course on the menu tonight. You diverted your eyes down to him for a second, his staring right back up at you as he feverously worked his tongue against you. Your juices mixed with his saliva already wetting your thighs up along with his beard.

“Oh god, that f-feels so good.” You let out in a choked moan, knees daring to buckle on you and make you fall to the floor, but Erwin’s death grip around your torso stopped such from happening. Which you were also grateful, but that also meant you weren’t able to buck your hips up into Zeke’s face or swivel them the way you wanted to; taking away any sense of control you thought you had. It wasn’t too long after that you were releasing all over his beard, wetting it up as your insides clenched around nothing, desperately wanting one of their cocks to stuff you up and satisfy that craving. 

Even after your orgasm, he didn’t stop. The pace of his tongue showed no sign of stopping and just to add to the sweet torture you felt two slender fingers entering your hole, a loud moan emitting from your lips in response. “I can’t take it. Too much.” You let out in a ragged breath.

“Come on, sweetheart. You can give us one more. You can take it. You don’t have any choice matter of fact, you’re going to give us as many as we want from you. Maybe if you weren’t so bratty things would be different.” Mouth too occupied on you, all Zeke could do was hum against you in agreeance. 

“Erwin--” 

“Aht, it’s daddy or professor to you from here on out.” Oh

“Daddy,” You quickly corrected yourself with a whine, “I can’t take it anymore. M’too sensitive. I need more. I w-want you inside of me.” Luckily for you, Zeke’s tongue was getting tired from being on you and he was quick to get off of his knees at your request to Erwin. “Look at the begging slut now. You weren’t like that when you first came. Guess you really are just all bark and no bite.” He teased you, fingers going to your nipples and pinching at them. You couldn’t even reply if you wanted to because his lips were on you like earlier forcing you to taste yourself on your tongue. And to your surprise Erwin joined in as well, leaning over from behind you and inserting himself to make a 3-way kiss that had all your tongues entangled with one another’s; everyone getting a taste of you.

“Zeke go sit on the couch and let y/n return the favor.” The older man spoke up after pulling away. Everyone moving away from such close proximity of each other so you could all go to your positions over on the couch. By the time you turned around to head in that direction Zeke was already sitting on the couch with his cock free and sprung up against his stomach, twitching in your direction as he awaited your arrival. Erwin on the other hand was nowhere to be found, completely gone from your view, but you didn’t let that stop you from making your way over to the bearded mand; dropping on your knees as soon as you were in front of him. 

Your hands move to engulf his thick cock with your hands, jerking it a few times and spreading around the pre-cum that cumulated on his tip before you began to lower your head. You were getting ready to bring his tip past your lips when the feeling of two broad hands gripping the crevice between your stomach and hips stopped you abruptly, presumably Erwin behind you getting ready to do something. You went to look behind you to confirm you suspicion only to be stopped by Zeke’s hand roughly grabbing at your chin forcing you to look up at him again. 

“Nobody told you to stop or look behind you. Get back to work.” It was pathetic how much they were able to break you down in such a small amount of time because without a second thought you did exactly what he told you to do, slipping his cock past your lips and gently sucking on it while simultaneously running your tongue over the flushed tip. “And here I was thinking your mouth was only good for arguing.” He groaned out, earning a chuckle from the other man behind you. 

Without the slightest bit of warning, Erwin is sliding his cock into you from behind, the mixture of Zeke’s saliva and your cum acting as a natural lubricant; allowing him to slip in and out of you as he pleased at a pace that made it so you were gagging on cock without hardly moving your head. Your hips also smacking against your professor’s without even moving them. It was like you were their personal sex toy and no longer one of their students, but this wasn’t even the beginning of it. They were nowhere near done with you. 

[jeongvision]

unconditional love

synopsis. if you were to ask yourself, ‘when did you realize that you were in love with lee jeno?’, you wouldn’t know how to respond. in fact, there was never a moment where you weren’t in love with him. but what happens when he asks you the same question? you might have to take a rain check, literally.

pairing. best friend! lee jeno ✗ fem! reader

genre. fluff, humor, childhood friends au, friends to lovers au

word count. 1.6k

warnings. none! but highkey though this made me fall in love with jeno :(

song. walking in the rain by chancellor & younha

author’s note. happy birthday @sehunniepotwrites​!​ not sure if this is fluffy enough for you but hope you enjoy this lil blurb! cheers to another one of your milestones and many more in life!

ps. there are two lines in this fic that are from a poem written by e.e. cummings! not going to say which ones or the title of the poem bc it might spoil future plans i have oop

You were one of the few fortunate people on the planet to still be friends with someone from your childhood. To have so many worthwhile memories shared with someone must be cherished at all cost. And many times were you afraid that Jeno might get tired of being friends with you, but being the ethereal person he is, he casted all your worries away and assured you that he had no plans on leaving you any time soon.

And perhaps somewhere down the line, the love you had for him went far beyond what people would label as ‘friendship,’ and dared enough to say, you were in love with him. If a stranger were to describe how you looked whenever you were with him, many would describe you to be enamored.

And if you happened to be enamored for your childhood friend, then so be it.

You fear no fate, for he is your fate, your sweet.

“Can I ask you something, y/n?”

Currently, you two are sat outside of a café near your home: 7 Dreams. It was a beautiful day out, the sun warming the air around you, flutters of clouds scattered throughout the blue sky. You expressed your desires to Jeno earlier that you wanted to sit out on the tables they placed outside their shop. It has been a little chilly from the past few days with occasional rain showers here and there, and you want nothing more than to relish in the warm weather after days of being forced into the solitude of your home.

“Sure. What is it?”

But before you could take a sip of your green tea latte, you’re thrown off by his question.

“When did you first fall in love with me?”

Your fingers stilled at the ceramic handle of your mug. You didn’t know what brought that question to the latter’s mind. Granted, you two have had your fair shares of flirtations and courtship, but never acted beyond past it. It was all done with jest, as you two would put it. You could easily lie to him, saying that you only saw him as a friend, but never to yourself; your heart betrays you with palpitations and inclinations for your best friend from just the mere thought of him.

You forced a stoic expression on your face.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He huffs out a breath from your response.

“Y/n, there’s no point in trying to hide it. I’ve known you for almost my whole life, so I know when you’re lying to me. The look you give me is different from how you looked at Johnny when you two were together.”

A snort escapes from your lips.

“And what does my ex have to do with this?” You could see a teasing grin poke through his demeanor, prompting an eye roll from you.

“So you admit that you do look at me differently then.”

“No, Jeno, I am not admitting to anything. And even if I did look at you differently, how would you know if I was in love with you?”

“Because you would’ve denied it by now. And right now, you’re just stepping around the question.”

You squint your eyes a little, to which Jeno does the same back.

“Oh, so I’m the bad guy now? How about when I asked you for the name of the person you liked a couple years back?”

And so, his eyebrows rise a little at your bold question, head tilted a little to the side.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he counters.

You couldn’t help but let out an incredulous laugh, your head shaking from disbelief.

“Oh, don’t fake naivety, Jeno. Senior prom, when we were each other’s date because you ‘didn’t receive any prom-posals from anyone’, when I knew fully well that you received many of them from both guys AND girls. You just denied them all.”

You could clearly play the memory out in the back of your head, a movie projector showcasing your youthful-self slow dancing with a bashful Jeno in the middle of the dance floor, your arms wrapped his neck and his hands on your waist. Both of your feet moved in sync with one another, eyes searching within the depths of each other’s soul, oblivious of the whispers and stares around you that spoke nothing short but envy for the sight that laid before them is one worth capturing.

“We were dancing to Hearts Don’t Break Around Here. You know, the one by Ed Sheeran?” you followed.

His smile grows fond at the memory of it.

“Oh, we’re in love, aren’t we?”

“Jeno!” You give a light slap on his forearm and he laughs at your response. “Now is not the time to start saying song lyrics!”

It’s a wonder how you managed to last this long from professing your feelings out to him. You two did almost everything together and experienced many firsts together. First road trip together, first beach date together - you even experienced your first pet purchase together. So what’s stopping you from confessing to him?

“Look, what I’m trying to say is that I have a feeling that you’re in love with me,” you said.

There’s a glint in his eyes filled with mirth.

“And how can you be so sure?”

“Because of the way you look at me?”

“And it’s the same way as how you look at me?”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure.”

“So you admit that you’re in love with me.”

Before you could continue on with your playful banter, you stopped yourself short. You take a moment to process his words in. Wait, did he just? Your words get caught in your throat. Did he just admit that he feels the same way towards me?

He notices your shock and uses this moment to his advantage to continue on, each word laced with certainty.

“If you’re saying that the way you look at me is the same as how I look at you, then that means that you are in love with me, because I don’t know how else to say that I am very much in love with you, y/n.”

Heat resonates all throughout your body. Your heart beats erratically and you’re at loss of words. Flustered you are, but who wouldn’t be? For years, you’ve pinned after your best friend, hoping for the day to come where he reciprocates your feelings. You had an inkling that he had some sort of romantic feelings for you as he always seemed to reject everyone’s relationship proposal, justifying his reasoning to be that there’s already someone he likes.

“Who is it?”

“An angel.”

“What’s their name?”

“Something pretty.”

“Jeno.”

“Y/n.”

And you just drop the conversation like that, frustrated by his vague answers. But nevertheless, you could never get tired of him. Something about him gravitates you towards him, the feelings you’ve harbored in secrecy burning brighter than ever whenever you’re by his side. He’s not perfect, but to you, he’s the best thing to appear in your life. From the crinkling of his eyes to the sweet smiles of his lips to the red tint of his neck and ears.

You want no world, for he is your entire world, your true.

“Look, it’s raining.”

Breaking out of your reverie, you look up to Jeno to see him peering out on the streets. You follow suit to see raindrops falling onto the pavement. It slowly gains momentum, growing heavier and louder with each passing second. Fortunately, you two are shielded from the rain with the veranda attached to the cafe. The sun peaks through the crevices of the clouds, still lighting the world around you with a subtle rainbow blossoming up into the spring sky.

You hear Jeno let out a laugh, bringing your attention back to him. There’s a wistful smile on his face when he asks you, “Remember when we were little, we would always run out in the rain on the concrete and just jump around? Pretend that we were in some kind of movie?”

You mirror his expression, your mind replaying a distant memory you shared with him.

“Our parents would always yell at us for that, saying we’ll get sick if we don’t stop.”

Your gaze trails back out onto the pavements. Then, you felt an itch in your fingers, an itch in your feet. Not literally, but you have this sudden urge to move. To dance. To celebrate. To relive those moments once more.

It’s almost as if the stars were aligned at that moment and heard your wishes, because you see Jeno get up from his seat and take a step forward and immerse himself out into the rain. His entire figure instantly gets drenched from the falling raindrops, not caring for a single second that he might catch a cold from his actions. Before you could call out to him, he looks back at you with a grin, and perhaps it might be your most favorite accessory he wears on himself.

He offers his hand out to you.

“May I have this dance, ma chérie?”

You’re taken back to the same distant memory again. Every single time, without fail, young Jeno would always ask for your hand to dance with him under the rain, to which you would always oblige with, “Well, of course mon cher.” But this time, you decide to switch it up a little.

You stand up from your seat and step closer to your best friend, a push away from falling victim to the rain with him. Your pupil flourishes with adoration for the man that stands before you.

“Only if you hold onto my hand, mon cher.”

He raises an eyebrow at your proposition. Amused he is, for there is a sliver of smirk adorned on his lips.

“Is that a threat, ma chérie?”

If Jeno were to ask you again when you first fell in love with him...

“It’s an invitation, mon cher.”

… you would say that you were always in love with him.

“If it’s like that, then I’d never let you go.”

[meltwonu]

| 🎃 𝕸𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖍 🎃 |

↪ ✦ playdate ✦

this chapter pairing; yandere!wonwoo x reader, side mingyu x reader

genre&warnings; yandere!wonwoo, kinda asshole!mingyu, creampies, sloppy seconds, intoxication, exhibitionism AND voyeurism, masturbation, dirty talk, one sided pining for all!!, kidnapping, stalking.

✖ That being said, I do NOT condone yandere-like/obsessive/possessive behaviour in real life. this is a work of fiction therefore I will indulge in it. If you do NOT like this kind of content, please just ignore it.

notes; if I’m being honest, the draft for this originally was completely different and I reworked it because I wasn’t satisfied with how it was turning out bc it was too similar to sea castles except mingyu and wonwoo were brothers kjdhfdkjh 😭😭 As always, thank you sooo much for the love and interest in Monster Mash! I know last chapter was.... erm, a lot. LMAO 😆 Have a great rest of your day/night and I’ll see yall tomorrow~! 🎃 👻 💕

word count; ~3800

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - x - x - x - x - x - x

you call me on the telephone, you feel so far away;

you tell me to come over, there’s some games you wanna play

i’m walking to your house, nobody’s home;

just me and you and you and me alone.

The relationship you share with Mingyu isn’t necessarily one that you like to talk about, much less acknowledge on most days.

“O-oh, fuck, M---Mingyu!”

It’s purely physical and a little destructive, in your opinion. Especially when you found yourself frustratingly liking him more than you ever imagined.

He bends your leg, ankle resting against his shoulder as he angles his thrusts to graze against your sweet spot. Shapes dance behind your eyelids, lips parting in a silent moan when you feel yourself already close to cumming.

But it’s Mingyu that cums first, hips stuttering as he growls, “That’s right, fuckin’ take all of it, baby.”

He rides out his high, pulling out of you and letting your leg down before you can even process what’s happening. “Hey, wait, but what about me?” You ask, voice small as you watch him get off of the bed. He tugs his pants on, plucking a shirt off of the floor as he throws it over his head.

“Sorry, I gotta go take care of some business back at campus, Mr. Lee needs the papers graded before tomorrow’s 8AM and I’m already late. You can stay here if you want though, bed’s all yours. I’ll be back in a bit, I---sorry, I’ll make it up to you later.”

He’s gone in a flash, door clicking shut behind him as you sit with your legs still parted. Typical.

Groaning, you flop onto your back against his bed sheets.

“Thanks for nothing.”

Wonwoo says it’s the last time.

But every time is the last time.

He wraps a hand around his cock, soft breaths making the window fog up in front of him as he watches you and Mingyu through the window. He times the movement of his hand to match Mingyu’s thrusts as he pretends it’s your warmth wrapped around his cock and not his own fist.

“Fuck, fuck , fuck…” He whispers in succession, feeling his abdomen tightening as he gets closer and closer to an orgasm.

Wonwoo watches as Mingyu bends your leg over his shoulder, mental images of you underneath him instead.

He remembers the first time he’d seen you in Mingyu’s bedroom, curiosity making him watch through his bedroom window as you fell to your knees in front of the other male. Wonwoo knew better than to watch, so he looked away, cheeks burning crimson before he ever so slowly turned back to the window. 

He couldn’t help it.

Wonwoo had seen you around the university campus too, hanging around the art kids in the building opposite the Sciences building where he typically stayed with his small group of friends; Mingyu included. He thought you were cute and kind, especially when you happened to hang around their group for the day. And he liked you, even if he was too shy to ever say it.

Which was precisely why he couldn’t understand your attraction to Mingyu, of all people.

Mingyu was selfish, almost irritatingly so, and Wonwoo knew.

Wonwoo knew you deserved better too, someone much like himself. Someone who would take care of you better than Mingyu ever could.

Movement in the opposite window has Wonwoo pulling himself from his thoughts, brows furrowed when he sees Mingyu leaving and you still alone in the bedroom.

“What…?” He mumbles, slightly confused when he watches you flop onto your back.

God, what he would do to eat you out right now.

He tightens his grip around his cock, this time imagining himself eating you out, tongue against your clit while you moan out his name and tangle your fingers into his hair. 

A stuttered moan falls from his lips as he cums into his palm, eyes clamped shut as the pleasure washes over him.

Wonwoo promises it’s the last time.

“Hey, did you hear about Jeonghan’s Halloween party next Saturday?”

“He’s throwing one?”

“Yeah, I heard everyone’s invited too.”

Wonwoo pretends to go through his textbook as he eavesdrops instead.

If everyone was invited, that surely meant that you’d be there too.

Mingyu glances over at you, tapping his pencil against the corner of his textbook. “Hey…” He starts, “Did you hear about Jeonghan’s party?”

You glance up from your own textbook, bored eyes on Mingyu who looks up at you from his bedroom floor. Neither of you had talked about the previous time; opting to forget about it since it wasn’t the first time either. “What about it?”

“Wanna go with me? I’ll make it up to you for last time.”

No, he wouldn’t.

“I guess.”

You step out of the Film Developing room, arms full of negatives when you accidentally run into a body that walks up from behind.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” The negatives spill to the floor, scattering all around you as you and the other person kneel down to collect them.

“It’s okay.” The deep voice replies.

“Oh, hey, Wonwoo!” You smile, “What are you doing in the Arts Building?”

He blushes a deep red, kneeling and stacking the negatives before placing them back in your arms. “Oh I--I do some film editing on my own and I--um, I was just wandering around. I had some free time, so I was curious.” Wonwoo shoots you a shy smile as he pushes his glasses up on his nose bridge.

Wonwoo was very cute.

“Oh! I didn’t know that! I feel like I’ve never seen you around here…” You trail off.

“Ah, yeah, I actually have a personal studio on the east end of town. It’s small but… I don’t have to share my things, which I’d prefer.” He smiles, eyes twinkling. “It’s no fun when people mess around with your things and ruin them, y’know?”

“Oh my gosh, I knooooow. Minghao always messes up my developing station and moves my shit around.” You keep talking but Wonwoo barely acknowledges it. Instead, he takes in your appearance, admiring you as you talk animatedly about god knows what.

God, why’d it have to be Mingyu.

“Hey, so are you coming on Saturday?” He blinks confusedly at you, “Huh? Sorry, I--I didn’t quite catch that last bit.”

“Oh, Jeonghan’s party! Everyone’s invited so I was wondering if you were coming!” His blush burns darker; were you asking him out?

“I’ll be there with Mingyu but if you show up, you should save me a drink!” His excitement falters slightly at the mention of Mingyu, but he does his best to send you a reassuring smile.

“Of course, I’ve got one with your name on it.”

Wonwoo was kind, patient and understanding from what you knew.

You’d only met him a few times and you knew he lived in the building across from Mingyu’s but all of your interactions with him had only ever been pleasant.

In another universe, maybe you would’ve been in a happy relationship with someone like Wonwoo.

A sigh escapes your lips as you get ready for Jeonghan’s party; short dress barely covering your ass when Mingyu saunters into his bathroom where you currently were.

“Jeez, who’re you trying to impress.” He mumbles, sidestepping you as he checks himself in the mirror.

“I just felt like being cute, that’s all.”

Mingyu grins, hands on your waist before they slide down to your ass. He squeezes hard; a chuckle on his lips when you mewl.

“Cute isn’t the word I’d go for with this ‘lil number but okay. Let’s get going.”

Mingyu drinks more than he should and he knows it.

He takes any drink someone puts in his hands and downs it before trying to find more which usually leads to a lot of 2AM drunk phone calls and quickies in the backseat of your car.

This time, however, you’re just as bad as he is; taking any drink available as you try to drown out the way you feel when you see Mingyu chatting up someone else across Jeonghan’s living room.

To be fair, you weren’t exclusive anyway.

But his eyes dance over to you, a cocky smirk on his face when he sees the effect he has on you. He knew how you felt too, even if you never said a word about it.

Mingyu didn’t want to ruin what the two of you had, even if he benefited from it more than you did. And the two of you were friends, albeit you weren’t sure for how much longer.

He leaves the other girl as he makes his way over to you, eyes unfocused when he presses you into the wall you’d been standing in front of.

“Let’s go somewhere more private.”

“Ngh, M--Mingyu, fuck--fuck, harder!”

Mingyu keeps you bent over the sink, hips slamming into your ass as he fucks you from behind in Jeonghan’s upstairs bathroom.

The loud music drowns out your loud moans and his filthy words as you eagerly fuck yourself on his cock. “Fuck, this tiny little dress of yours doesn’t do a damn thing. Bet you wanted me to fuck you just like this, huh? Bent over a fuckin’ sink at a party.”

Neither of you had even made the effort to get undressed as you hiked your dress up and tugged your panties to the side, hands planted firmly onto the mirror in front of you as you watched yourself get drunk off of his cock.

“G-god, yes, yes! Fuck me h-harder, damn it!” You whine. Mingyu slaps your ass at this, low grunts spilling from his lips. “Your cute ‘lil cunt begging to be filled with my cock at every second of the fuckin’ day. “ He slurs.

He feels his cock throbbing as he erratically thrusts into you, only a low groan on his lips before he’s cumming.

“O-oh, shit…”

You feel his thrusts slow down as he cums inside of you, a soft mewl on your lips at the feeling. You clench around him, shaking your hips slightly to get his attention back on you.

A sharp knock scares you both as Mingyu pulls out of you; panties slipping back into place like they’d never been touched.

“Hey! People need to use the bathroom, assholes!” Someone yells from the opposite side.

“Fuck, we need to go.” Mingyu grumbles, readjusting himself and zipping his denim back up.

You very slowly lift yourself up from leaning on top of the sink, tugging your dress back down quietly.

Of course. Of, fucking, course.

Mingyu can sense the annoyance even without you saying anything, lopsided smile on his features. “Later, okay? Don’t be a brat.”

“Whatever.”

You head for the door, unlocking it before you step out first and leave Mingyu behind. Your body still buzzes with the urge to cum when you start heading down the hallway, panties sticking to you like a second skin with Mingyu’s cum pooling into the material. You turn a corner into an empty part of the upstairs hallways, sighing slightly as you lean up against a wall.

You hear your name being called as you turn your head, finding Wonwoo jogging up to you.

“Hey! I was looking for you!” He smiles, noting the way you seem to sadly smile back at him. “Something the matter?”

“Ugh, it’s Mingyu…” You start. Wonwoo tenses up, hands balling into fists at his side. “What did he do?”

“He’s so fucking selfish! I don’t know what’s up with him lately but he always leaves me hanging!”

Oh.

It’s quiet between the two of you as your words sink in and Wonwoo’s demeanor changes in the blink of an eye. He takes a step closer to you, fingertips under your chin to lift your head up as he meets your blown out pupils.

“I wouldn’t leave you hanging, y’know.”

You feel a wave of arousal wash over you at his deep voice; did Wonwoo always sound like that or was it the alcohol? “W-what?”

“I said, I wouldn’t leave you hanging. I’d put you before myself, if you’d let me.” He smirks at you, eyes twinkling with promise.

“Show me then.”

Wonwoo drags you into the nearest bedroom; excitement coursing through his veins.

In another universe, he would’ve been more romantic about this.

Dinner and candles, picnics at sunset. Ah, well.

“Well, it’s not much but it’ll do.” He says, locking the door behind himself before he turns to you. He takes in your mildly disheveled appearance, walking you backwards until the back of your legs hit the bed.

“You deserve better, y’know? Someone who’ll take care of you.”

“I know… But you promised you’d show me, didn’t you?” Pouting, you hike your dress up before you sit down on the edge of the bed. You spread your legs as you let Wonwoo see your panties that were practically transparent.

“Fuck, you let him cum inside your tight ‘lil pussy and he didn’t even let you cum?”

“How do you know I’m tight if you never fucked me before.” You retort, shooting him a smirk of your own. Maybe it was the alcohol in your system, but you felt more confident now than you’d been in a long while.

Wonwoo leans over you, easing you down until your back touches the sheets. “Only someone as pretty as you would have a tight ‘lil cunt and I’ll prove it.” He pulls away, undoing the button and zipper of his pants before he shimmies his boxer briefs down enough to pull his half hard cock out.

You lick your lips at the sight; he was slightly bigger than Mingyu. “Fuck, your cock is huge, Wonwoo…” He smirks at your compliment, tugging on your legs until your lower half hangs off of the side of the bed. He eases your wet panties down, pocketing them before he spreads your legs wide.

“I’m not typically one for sloppy seconds, but…” You blush at his comment. “...If it’s you, I don’t care.”

“Usually I wouldn’t have someone else’s cum already inside my fuckin’ pussy before I hook up with someone else...” You mumble.

Wonwoo guides his cock towards you, letting the shaft rest against your folds. He starts grinding against you, coating his cock in your wetness and Mingyu’s cum. His cock is already throbbing as he continues to tease you and himself, resisting the urge to fuck you hard and fast like he knew both of you needed. “S’okay, I’ll just have to cum inside you too and fuck it so deep into your fuckin’ cunt that you won’t even remember Mingyu ever did.” He grins.

“God, yes, make me cum too, I wanna cum with you…” Whining, you buck your hips up to meet his teasing touches.

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll make sure you get my cock nice ‘n wet.” He positions his cock at your entrance, teasing you one more time as you whine and squirm underneath him. “Fuck, you’re so cute when you’re whiny.”

He slowly eases his cock in, meeting no resistance with how wet you already were and the cum already inside you. “God, you really are fuckin’ tight…” Wonwoo mumbles under his breath.

It takes you a second to adjust to Wonwoo’s size before he’s drawing his hips back and thrusting back into you and a mewl cuts through the air when the head of his cock taps against your cervix; eyes fluttering shut with how well Wonwoo filled you up.

“Oh, god, ngh, Wonwoo I--I don’t know if I--I can hold o-off…” A choked cry rolls off of your lips, fingertips digging into the sheets underneath you as you cant your hips up to meet his thrusts. You’d already gotten close to an orgasm before and now that Wonwoo’s cock was snug between your walls and curving into you perfectly, it was hard to hold back.

“That’s okay, baby. You can cum as many times as you want. Use me how you want me.” He offers; voice gentle and inviting as you wrap your legs around his waist.

“P--please, ah, touch my---my clit…”

Wonwoo obliges, pinching and rolling your clit between his fingertips. “O-oh, fuck!”

Your body locks up, Wonwoo’s name spilling from your lips as he throws you over the edge and into the first mind-melting orgasm you’d had in weeks. He smiles dreamily at you, hips still snapping into you as he fucks you through your high.

“So fuckin’ pretty when you’re cumming.”

You can only whimper in response, blushing when you can hear how much wetter you’d gotten after just one orgasm. He takes his fingers off of you clit, licking the wet digits.  

Wonwoo looks down to where the two of you are connected, a soft groan on his lips when he sees how much of your wetness coats his cock. “You really did get my cock fuckin’ soaked, baby. Think you still have it in you to give me one more? I’m close too and, ah, I’d love for you to cum with me.” He shoots you a sweet smile and you feel your heart beat out of your chest.

You nod feverishly, “Mm--Mmhmm… I---I haven’t c-cum in a few weeks so… I--”

“A few weeks?”

You avert your eyes from his inquisitive stare, already knowing how he’s going to react. “Yeah, s’just Mingyu’s been so busy so… He’s been, hah, kinda’ leaving me h-hanging and---Ah!” Wonwoo thrusts into you hard, grinding against you once he was fully bottomed out.

“For weeks now? He’s been treating you like that?” It’d made sense now why he’d seen you in Mingyu’s bed alone that one time. “Y-yeah… but---but he’s just busy, y’know, ah, being a TA and a-all...”

He shakes his head in utter disbelief; selfish Mingyu, as always.

Wonwoo leans in until he’s face to face with you, kissing you on the lips gently before pulling away. He doesn’t say another word and instead works on getting you worked up to cum with him and even through the muffled music, he can hear your loud whines and whimpers and the sound of skin slapping as his thrusts become erratic.

He licks the pad of his thumb before he brings it back towards your sensitive and swollen clit. “Baby, ‘m close…” He whispers; only loud enough for you to catch.

“Ngh, fuh--fuck, Wonwoo, please cum i-inside me… I wanna feel your, ah, cock throbbing i-inside of me when you fill me up with y-your cum…” Wonwoo’s thumb presses harder against your clit and he opts to grind against you instead when he feels the tension in his abdomen start to snap. He moans your name shakily, brows furrowed and eyes clamped shut as he lets the pleasure wash over him.

You lick your lips watching his face contort in bliss and you bring your fingers down and over his thumb as you press down harder onto your clit and the action is enough to throw you over the edge again, head thrown back and a sharp whine on your lips as you cum for the second time. 

Wonwoo slows down his thrusts as he starts to come down from his high and he works you through yours. “Shit, you really are so fuckin’ pretty.” 

A blush coats your skin as your orgasm starts to ebb away and Wonwoo is careful to not hurt you once he starts to pull his cock from inside of you. 

He watches the cum drip out of you, lips pursed into a tight smile. “Guess you should get these back, huh?” He fishes for the wet panties in his pocket; helping you slide them back on and up your legs before he pulls away and starts to smooth down his own disheveled appearance.

You laugh breathily, “I’ll let you have another pair next time.” 

“Oh? There’ll be a next time?” He grins. 

Biting your lip, you stand, readjusting your dress and grimacing at how gross you felt now that your panties were even wetter and covered in more cum. 

“I---I mean, I still... I still have feelings for Mingyu but--but...” You pause; Wonwoo’s eyes on you. “I know I should end things with him, it’s just gonna take some time and I--I think you’re a really great guy, Wonwoo, and I’d like for there to be a next time... It’s just... I think I need some time to get over Mingyu first.” You mumble the last few words, a little embarrassed you even admitted you liked Mingyu. 

“No, I---I get it. It’s no worries! Just---Just come find me when you’re ready.” He shoots you a beaming smile, “I’ll leave first, okay?” 

You nod in response, smiling at his back when he turns to leave. 

“Thank you, Wonwoo.” 

You end up heading home, leaving Mingyu at Jeonghan’s party all-together.

He’d find his way home eventually; maybe even puke in the backseat of a taxi and get what he deserved. 

You giggle at the thought, stepping into the lobby of your apartment building.

Huh, the lights are out. 

You’re a little confused, but you make your way towards the elevators; stumbling slightly with the alcohol still in your system. Pressing the button, you wait patiently in the dark lobby -- only the moonlight providing a soft glow. 

The elevator dings and you quickly enter it, pressing the button for your floor before resting against the banister. 

Hey, is that a person?

Your eyes catch a glimpse of a figure not too far off and only half visible from around the corner, brows furrowed. 

But you didn’t hear anyone enter the building.

The door closes and you shake the thoughts out of your head; it was probably just the alcohol making your eyes hazy.

Eventually you reach your floor, sighing in relief that the lights were still working. You stumble down the hall, dropping your house keys a few times before you can even make the turn to get to your hallway.

You reach your door, sliding the key into the keyhole and turning the lock.

God, it was so good to finally be home. 

“Good Evening, this is Boo Seungkwan reporting live on Channel 17’s 4 o’ clock news. We’re live at the scene here, as you can see behind me, at the apartment complex were Mr. Kim Mingyu resided. The police and detectives are still going through Mr. Kim’s apartment in hopes of finding any clues. His whereabouts are still unknown as well as his female companion. If you have any tips or information of where they both are, please do not hesitate to contact the police or the TV station.” Seungkwan pauses, waving down a pedestrian. “Sir? I’m a reporter for Channel 17 news, can we please have a word with you? It’s about the missing university students.”

Wonwoo sadly smiles, nodding. “Of course.”

Seungkwan gestures for the cameraman to come closer, holding the microphone in between himself and Wonwoo. “Sir, did you happen to know the missing couple?”

“Ah… Kind of. They were attending the same university as myself. He was kind of a friend of mine, and I know he lived in the building across from myself but…” Wonwoo pauses, shaking his head. “I--I don’t know what happened. They seemed like such kind people. I’ve heard rumours that they just fled to another city, but… that’s it really.”

“Did they tell you that, themselves?” Wonwoo shakes his head no. “No, just rumours flying around campus. Everyone saw them at a party last weekend, myself included. That seems to have been the last time.”

“I see, so have the police interviewed you? Do they have any suspects?”

Wonwoo shakes his head again, smiling sadly. “The police just think they ran away, which, I guess isn’t too far fetched. We’re all stressed university students, after all.”

“You mentioned he’s a friend of yours. He didn’t bother to say anything? Do you think he kidnapped her?”

Wonwoo bites the inside of his cheek, worry clear on his features. “I mean, Mingyu was kind of aloof and he was very drunk at that party. I’m not sure if they got into an altercation. We never really hung out outside of campus so sadly, I can’t really say I know if it’d be in his character or not.”

“Thank you sir, for your time.”

Seungkwan lets Wonwoo leave, stepping away to finish the live report.

Wonwoo nods, turning to make his way back into his apartment. 

He enters his place, toeing off his shoes before he heads towards his own bedroom.

By nature, he steps in front of his window; the same one that faced Mingyu’s now empty bedroom.

His lips ease into a small peaceful smile. 

He would have to make a trip to the east end once all the news vans and patrol cars were gone.

He was sure you’d love the food he’d be making for your candle-lit dinner. It was one of his favorite recipes.

And he was sure Mingyu wouldn’t mind watching from his place in the corner, either. 

[recurring-polynya]

For Stuff For Renji's Birthday Prompts: 1) time travel turn back the clock nonsense, bc I'm an enabler and Karakura teens plus shithead Renruki teens has *Byakuya voice* strong comedic potential OR 2) Hisana lives but due to wacky circumstances, nobody notices Rukia's existence at the Academy... until they've graduated and Renruki have joined Squad 11. Dealer's choice! (Honestly whichever you pick, I might try writing the one you don't. I am not a writer these 2 just live in my head rent free)

Why would you make me choose between these, whyyyyyyyyyy?

To be honest, I almost did them both, but this was the second one I did, and I figured that I should probably do some other people’s prompts, and then I ran out of time. I might do you some time travel shenanigans later. (This should in no way stop you from writing these, I would flip my chips if you wrote something, let alone something based on my horrible ideas)

In any case, I couldn’t resist the second options and I have spun it out into a delightful bit of Byakuya-torture. Please enjoy!!!

Special thanks to @kaicko for helping me come up with the clerical error, because you all know me, I can’t just say “a clerical error.” 😂

Read on ao3 or ff.net

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“How is the tea?” Aizen Sousuke asked smoothly.

The tea was excellent, but Byakuya wasn’t in the mood for Aizen’s needy attempts to ingratiate himself. “Adequate,” he replied dryly. “You said you had something to discuss with me.”

“Ah, diligent as always, Byakuya,” Aizen sighed, “always eager to get back to work. I’ll get to the point: I happened to speak with your wife recently at a fundraising event. She’s very interested in the people of the deep Rukon, and said she travels to South Rukongai frequently.”

Byakuya narrowed his eyes. “What is your point?”

“Well, I thought it was a bit of a strange occupation for a woman of your wife’s noble standing, but then Gin reminded me that she was actually from there herself, that there had been a bit of a to-do when you two married. I don’t tend to follow gossip myself--”

“I repeat, what is your point?” Byakuya gritted your teeth.

Aizen made a pissy little throat clearing noise and fiddled with a folder on his desk. “The fact is, Byakuya, your wife reminds me a great deal of a young woman who served in my squad a few years ago, whom I recalled also hailing from the Rukon. I wondered if there might be a.... connection.”

Byakuya’s shoulders stiffened. Impossible. He had put watches on all immigrants to the Seireitei. He would have reviewed anyone who came from the South 78th.

“Inuzuri Rukia,” Aizen read from his file, and Byakuya’s blood ran cold. “Shin’ou class of 2066. Unseated. Petite, like your wife. Dark hair. Very striking eyes. Unfortunately, an unremarkable shinigami. Potential for a good kidou user, but didn’t take direction well. More interested in sword combat, although she had little aptitude for it. Ah, here it is. Hometown: District 48, South Rukongai.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Byakuya said flatly. “Inuzuri is the 78th district of South Rukongai. Why would she carry a surname from a different district?”

Aizen made an exaggerated frown. “Very strange! A clerical error perhaps? Hold on a moment.” He stuck his head out of his office door and said something to the shinigami on reception duty. “Fortunately, there’s an easy way to clear this up. It’ll just be a minute.”

Byakuya gripped his teacup, unsure of how to feel. A clerical error. Class of 2066… she would have enrolled in 2060, in the middle of Hisana’s worst turn, when she had been bedridden for nearly four years. Their attention would have lapsed. It made sense.

“She does not sound like your usual recruit,” Byakuya accused. Aizen was constantly finding ways to skim the highest performers from the Academy, all the gifted children.

Aizen looked sheepish. “Ah, well, you see, there was a young man of some talent that I was eager to recruit who was… attached to her. I thought she might have some potential if properly guided, but it never panned out.”

Aizen’s good deed was suddenly beginning to make sense. The girl had transferred out and taken Aizen’s prize with her. He wanted Byakuya to go fetch her away in hopes that the talented one would come home. Byakuya actually felt much better now that he’d identified Aizen’s ulterior motive, and further, that it had more to do with his own petty recruiting schemes than Byakuya’s family (specifically, Byakuya’s wife).

There was a knock at the office door, and upon being bid entry, a young woman walked in. Although indeed petite and dark-haired, she looked nothing like Hisana, and Byakuya remarked as much.

“Oh, no, this is my Seventh Seat!” Aizen chuckled. “Miss Hinamori, you were friends with Inuzuri Rukia, isn’t that correct?”

The young woman’s eyes had gone wide when she recognized Byakuya. “Er, yes, sir,” she said, her eyes darting between the two captains. “We shared a room while she served here.”

“Do you happen to remember what district she was from?” Aizen asked in an overly friendly manner.

“Oh, sure, it was South 78,” Hinamori replied. “Inuzuri, of course.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know all the outermost ones,” Aizen said in his goofy voice again. “Her paperwork says 48.”

Hinamori’s brow furrowed for a moment and then her face brightened. “She and Abarai had very heavy accents when they first came to the Academy, and used a lot of deep Rukongai language quirks. I don’t remember all of it, but they both used to use ‘shichi’ instead of ‘nana’ for seven, especially when referring to their district. They weren’t very fond of their home district. I wonder if the registrar misheard.”

“Well, there you go!” Aizen said, slapping his hands on his desk. “A very logical explanation!”

Hinamori beamed.

Byakuya found Aizen’s need to be liked by his subordinates very unprofessional and off-putting, but he tried to push it aside. He was trying not to be too eager, but this was probably the best lead he’d had on Hisana’s sister in all the years they had been searching. “Where is she now?” he grumbled.

Aizen turned his doe eyes on his fawning subordinate once more. “I don’t suppose you still keep in touch? She couldn’t have lasted very long there, they must have transferred again?”

Hinamori made a face like she didn’t want to say the answer. “I’m afraid that Kira and I had a bit of a falling out with Abarai and Inuzuri when they left. I haven’t talked to them in a few years, although we still have some mutual friends. As far as I know, though, they’re both still at Squad Eleven. I heard they were doing fairly well there, actually.”

The room seemed to retreat around Byakuya. All he could hear was the blood pounding in his ears and the reverberations of the most horrible words he could possibly think of: Squad Eleven.

---

Byakuya knew it was poor etiquette to visit another captain’s squad when the man was out, but he absolutely could not stomach the idea of discussing the matter of his wife’s sister with the Kenpachi, so he waited until Zaraki and his miniature lieutenant were sent out to go trample half of East Rukongai before visiting.

He also knew that he probably should have said something to Hisana, but he couldn’t bring himself to get his wife’s hopes up, only to dash them, should this turn out to be nothing, like so many leads before it. So, the secret sat in his stomach, heavy and acidic, jostling with the guilt of his breach of etiquette.

“Is there someone here,” he gingerly asked one of the gentlemen on gate duty, “who takes care of administrative matters for the squad?”

The man swiveled his head, which appeared to grow directly from his torso with no need for an intervening neck, to his fellow guardsman. “What?”

The other fellow had been busy trying to remove wax from his ear with a pinky. “WHAT?” he shouted back.

“Paperwork!” Byakuya said a little louder. “Is there an office of some sort? A person who knows what’s going on?”

He supposed he could have asked for the girl, Inuzuri, directly, but he didn’t feel… ready.

“I think he wants Ayasegawa,” the neckless guard hazarded.

“WHAT?”

“I’ll be right back.”

Eventually, the burly gentleman returned. With him was a strangely elegant person with a silky curtain of hair cut severely to chin length and piercing violet eyes. “It really is you,” the lovely man said with a level of disdain that Byakuya almost had to admire. Before he had a chance to get offended, the man dipped into a respectful bow. “Welcome to the Eleventh, Captain Kuchiki. Fifth Seat Ayasegawa at your service. What in Soul Society can I possibly do for you?”

“Apologies for visiting while your captain is abroad,” Byakuya replied, not meaning a word of it.

“Oh, he’ll be very sorry to have missed you,” Ayasegawa frowned. “But I’m sure you could make it up to him later.”

Byakuya’s eye twitched. “Perhaps. I have come to enquire about a young woman whom I am told transferred to your squad three years ago.”

“Does she have a name? That might make it a little easier.”

“Inuzuri Rukia.”

Both of Ayasegawa’s eyebrows shot up, and his mouth curved into a feline grin. “Ninth Seat Inuzuri, of course!”

Byakuya blinked. “Ninth Seat? Captain Aizen told me she was middling at best.”

Ayasegawa's face suddenly went stiff. “She was not well-served at the Fifth, but she has bloomed here most beautifully. Inuzuri is my personal protege, you know.” He stared at Byakuya under hooded eyes. “What is your interest in her? Captain?”

Byakuya took a deep breath through his nose. “My wife is also from Inuzuri. She is trying to locate someone she knew there. It is possible this Rukia is that someone.”

Ayasegawa frowned. “Well, I can introduce you, if you like. I should warn you, though, Rukia doesn’t have a lot of lost love for her hometown.”

“My understanding is that there isn’t much to love about it.”

“Mmm,” Ayasegawa agreed. “Well, come along, let’s go find her.” He concentrated for a moment, clearly trying to find her reiatsu. She must be a woman of some power, after all. “Ugh! She and Abarai are at it again! Every day!”

Byakuya swallowed stiffly.

“Well come on! She’s out at the training fields, clobbering our Tenth Seat, yet again.”

Oh. That kind of “going at it.”

Ayasegawa was shaking his head. “The two of them are literally an unstoppable force and an immovable object.”

“Abarai was also at the Fifth?,” Byakuya probed cautiously. “I was told they were close.”

“Of course they’re close!” Ayasegawa scoffed. “They’re partners!” He thought for a moment. “Abarai is from the 78th as well, you know. If Rukia turns out to not be your girl, perhaps one or the other of them knew the person you’re looking for. Abarai is one of those people who just… knows everyone. He’s the personable half of the pair.”

“‘Partners’?” Byakuya echoed. “What… kind of partners?”

Ayasegawa stared back at him like he was insane. “Partners.”

This path of inquiry clearly wasn’t going to get him anywhere, but wasn’t particularly relevant, either. “I did not think kidou-type zanpakutou were permitted in the Eleventh,” Byakuya sniffed. “Aizen’s records indicated Inuzuri wields an ice-and-snow type.”

Ayasegawa gave a little shrug. “Zanpakutou classifications are arbitrary. Obviously, if she had a bunch of showy blizzard attacks like Matsumoto’s little prodigy friend, it would be a no-go. Rukia can take the blade of her sword down to sub-zero temperatures. She has a weapon-shattering attack and she doesn’t feel pain when she’s fighting. It’s fundamentally no different than a zanpakutou so massive that only the wielder can lift it, or a whip sword that’s controlled with one’s reiatsu.”

This sounded like a quibble to Byakuya, but it’s not like he had come to the Eleventh looking for sound logic.

“She’s incredibly fast, probably the fastest person in the Eleventh, although no one’s really sure what Yachiru’s top speed is,” Ayasegawa continued on. He glanced at Byakuya slyly. “I hear you are very fast.”

“You have heard correctly.”

“That’s why Abarai can’t beat her. If he could land one really hard hit on her, she’d go down, but he’s not fast enough and she’s just too agile. He’s my partner’s protege, you see, so I have to take their little scraps very personally.”

How did this man talk so much?

“What did you say your wife’s relationship was to her again?”

“I did not.”

“Ah, right. Oops, look out!” Ayasegawa abruptly dove to one side as a giant mass of shihakushou and pink hair and what might be a sword came crashing through the split rail fence surrounding the training field.

Byakuya was not in the habit of ducking, so he merely plunged the force of his reiatsu down into the earth like a piton. It was almost, but not entirely sufficient. Byakuya gritted his teeth as he was driven back, dirt piling up behind his heels as he skidded backwards.

When they finally came to a halt, Byakuya looked down at the meaty youth lying at his feet. This must be the infamous Abarai, although he certainly didn’t look like one of Aizen’s usual simpering overachievers. The first thing Byakuya observed was the eye makeup. Most shinigami applied at least a little eyeliner, on grounds of tradition, but few bothered to blacken the entire eye socket, as in the skeletal facepaint of old. The second thing Byakuya noticed were the tattoos painted across his forehead and neck. They were black and spikey and horrible. The third thing was the hair, which was bright pink and spikey, and utterly at odds with the makeup and tattoos. The fourth thing was the big, sheepish grin, which honestly just tied the whole hideous tableau together.

Byakuya glared down at the lout, and in a moment of pettiness, flared his reiatsu to a level that should have sent blood spurting out of his ears.

“I’m afraid that’s not going to do much to someone who has a weekly sparring slot with the Kenpachi,” Ayasegawa commented dryly.

“Sorry ‘bout that!” the lummox cheerfully apologized as he sat up and brushed himself off. He had an Inuzuri accent so thick you could spread it on toast, an accent that Hisana tended to slip into only when she was extremely bent out of shape. Abarai snapped the sword hilt in his hand, and the tangled pile of steel on the ground neatly retracted into something that looked a little more like a weapon, if a weapon were designed by a creative and overly violent child.

“That’s a captain, you buffoon!” another voice rang out, and every muscle in Byakuya’s body locked. “Show your respects!”

The voice clearly affected Abarai as well, because he leapt to his feet, spun, and slammed into a bow. “My apologies, Captain…” his eyes glanced up and abruptly widened, “Kuchiki.”

“Greetings, Captain Kuchiki! Welcome to the Eleventh Division! I apologize very profusely for throwing Tenth Seat Abarai at you!” A second young person had come to join Abarai in his bow, and they both rose in unison, Abarai looking suddenly pale and nervous, his companion looking calm and confident.

So this was Inuzuri Rukia. She had Hisana’s voice. She had Hisana’s stature, and standing next to Abarai made her look positively childlike. She wore the same dreadful eyeblack, but the eyes that shone out of it were a variation on Hisana’s, harder and three shades more purple. The rest of the face was Hisana’s. Her hair was dark, shaved on the sides, arranged into porcupine spikes on top, although one lock hung down stubbornly between her eyes. Her ears glittered with silver piercings. At least she was free of awful tatt-- wait, no. Byakuya had missed them at first, because they were white. Abarai’s tattoos were spiky and sharp, but Inuzuri’s were graceful swirls, like ribbons wrapping lazily down her forearms. Even her reiatsu was like Hisana’s-- but instead of a cool, refreshing wintergreen, Inuzuri’s was the bone-deep cold of winter, a cold so harsh it burnt in the lungs.

There was no doubt.

This atrocious delinquent was his long-lost sister-in-law.

“Can we help you with something, sir?” Inuzuri prompted. “Abarai here’s a big fan of yours.”

“Shut up, Rukia,” Abarai managed through gritted molars.

“Inuzuri Rukia, you died as an infant thirty-six years ago and were sent to the 78th District of South Rukongai, is that correct?” Byakuya said stiffly.

Inuzuri and Abarai both bristled, a pair of mongrels raising their haunches. “That seems about right,” Inuzuri replied slowly. “My early years are a little hazy.”

“My wife, Hisana also died thirty-six years ago and was sent to Inuzuri with her infant sister,” Byakuya went on. “They were separated. My wife has been looking for her sister ever since. You… resemble her greatly.” Byakuya let the implication hang in the air. He couldn’t bring himself to say it.

There was silence for a moment. Then there was the distinct noise of a laugh that, having been held in, had escaped through someone’s nose. “Sorry! Pardon me!” Ayasegawa wheezed, clapping one hand over his mouth and looking away. “Bit of. Dust. In my throat.”

“I told you! I told you, you looked like that picture of her in the Bulletin!” Abarai was hissing.

“I thought you were lying because you thought she was pretty!” Inuzuri hissed back.

“I thought she was pretty because she looks just like you!”

“Now is really not the time, Abarai!” She cleared her throat and tried to stand up a bit taller, a futile effort. “So, uh, so what? What does that mean, if I am her sister? Does that… does that make me noble?”

A higher pitched wheezing came out of Ayasegawa. The level of impudence was extraordinary.

“I would like you to come to my home to meet her, first,” Byakuya put off making any promises. “We can discuss what comes next. As a family.”

“I’m at work right now,” Inuzuri excused.

“Inuzuri, I need to know how this pans out, you can have the afternoon off,” Ayasegawa informed her.

Inuzuri’s confidence seemed to be draining out of her. She took a tiny step closer to Abarai and groped for his hand. “I’m bringing Renji,” she declared.

“Is he compulsory?” Byakuya asked. Inuzuri was absurd looking too, but at least she was small.

“He’s my family,” Inuzuri insisted.

Byakuya’s brows furrowed. This could prove problematic. “In any sort of legally binding sense?”

“We’re engaged!” Inuzuri announced.

“We are?” Abarai goggled.

“I told you I’d marry you if you could ever manage to beat me in a fight! What else would you call that?” Rukia hissed at him in a voice that was still, unfortunately, perfectly audible.

“I’ve been trying every day, and honestly, Rukia, it’s not looking good for me!”

“Can you just go with it for once, instead of arguing with me every time?”

“If you want to leave and never tell anyone you found her,” Ayasegawa put in, “I am very bribable.”

Byakuya was sorely tempted.

---

End note: To further explain the number mix-up, as I understand it “seven” in Japanese can either be said as “nana” or “shichi”. People usually say “nana” for two reasons-- 1) to avoid confusion with 4 (”shi”, although you can also say “yon”) and because “shi” is a homophone for death. Given how shitty the districts in the 70s are, I rather liked the idea that they residents use the “shichi” pronunciation as a bit of gallows humor. (And if you don’t have a rude nickname for the town you grew up in, well, congrats for not growing up somewhere shitty)

I don’t actually speak Japanese, tho, so forgive me if this is all nonsense. 😁

[ri-ahhh]

can u just give me mushy gushy shit with grayson like ethan has a girl over so the two of you decide to go out for a burger date and a walk at night? idk something like that pls 👉🏻👈🏻

A/N: I couldn’t even tell you how long this has been sitting in my drafts but I was looking through trying to find something to finish bc I was in the mood to write but not from scratch and found this lol. It was about halfway done and I have no idea where I was going with it but this is what it turned into as of today. Idek if there’s even anyone around here anymore to read this but whatever haha here it is.

You don’t usually mind being single. Even when your best friend/roommate Stella started seeing her boyfriend Charlie seriously, it didn’t give you any longing for a relationship of your own.

But there are some nights where you feel down and you just can’t handle it. The scenes of casual intimacy as soon as you get home and see them together — the vase of flowers on the kitchen island he must have brought over; the playful bickering across the room.

The incessant, unrelenting sound of a marathon session going on through the shared wall of your and Stella’s bedrooms.

You groan and turn the volume up on your AirPods, going straight to your messages next.

Wyd?

{G} 👀

Don’t be weird.

Pretty sure Stella and Charlie are trying to put a hole in the wall w her headboard and I can’t take it anymore.

Your roommate chooses that moment to let out a particularly enthusiastic “fuck!” If she weren’t your best friend, you might have given in to the urge to bang on the wall, but your phone lights up with Grayson’s reply anyway.

{G} E too.

{G} I mean like I can’t hear him but ik what’s going down in there

{G} I’d offer to pick u up but sounds like u need to get outta there lol. Meet me here?

You like the message and slip on some shoes, making sure to slam your bedroom door closed on your way out, as if it would make them pause even one thrust.

In the year that you’ve known him, Grayson Dolan has become one of your closest friends. The kind where you met as acquaintances, never talked much, but then you reconnected randomly and the conversation never stopped from there on. You talk about anything and everything, but recently you’ve bonded even more about being a perpetual third wheel. You knew he’d understand and not pass judgement on you in times like this, so it had been a no-brainer to text him as an escape from tonight.

He buzzes you into the gate when you get to his house, and he tells you over another text to go ahead and hop in the Porsche before he even gets outside. It makes you smile; night drives are your favorite, and while the Tesla is a vibe in its own right, there’s just something calming about someone (your attractive friend, no less) tangibly driving you around. It’s exactly what you need right now, no matter what destination he has in mind.

When he slides into the driver’s side not even a minute later, you’re almost overwhelmed by him. Looking far too good in your eyes for how casual he’s dressed in a well-fitting T-shirt and some grey sweats. Hair slightly damp from a recent shower.

He greets you with a grin and leans over the console to kiss your cheek, and you can smell the combination of his shampoo and a bit of cologne. You always appreciated that he doesn’t overdo the fragrance, and if possible it makes him even more intoxicating at times.

“Hey,” he says simply, sitting back in his seat and fastening the seatbelt.

“Hey.” You smile and watch him with a silent but fairly obvious appreciation as he reaches a hand to rest on the back of your seat, twisting the bit he needs to look out the back windshield. The Porsche has a backup camera, obviously, but he’s a cautious driver to a fault and insists he doesn’t fully trust them.

Grayson gets the car facing enough of the right direction to throw it in drive and exit down the long driveway. You shake your head and settle back, kicking off your shoes with a sigh and tucking your feet onto the seat beneath you.

“One day, we’ll be the ones making them leave the house,” he jokes, stopping for the gate to open.

You know it’s implied that he’s referring to the two of you with separate people, but you can’t help but consider the option that the two of you could make that happen together.

“I know for a fact you have a booty call list a mile long, Dolan,” you say with a raised brow. Despite the fleeting thought, keeping things lighthearted and platonic is much easier to deal with in reality. “You could have called one of them and done just that.”

He scoffs and pretends like you’ve just hurt him deeply, slapping a hand to his burly chest to clutch at his heart. “Excuse me, it is not a mile long.” He glances over at you with a held-back smirk. “A couple hundred yards, tops.”

You throw your head back with a loud cackle, looking out the window now as he turns onto the main road. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Damn, that’s a big word.” He likes to tease you about your extended vocabulary.

“Hopeless,” you elaborate, crossing your arms and rolling your eyes.

“Is that what that word means, or are you making fun of my high school dropout vocab?”

“Both.”

You let your head roll back against the headrest, turning to watch him, knees swayed to the side a bit. His form isn’t hidden in the dark at all, features lit up by the dash in front of him and the streetlights you’re passing by outside.

“Why didn’t you, then? Call one of them?”

Grayson shrugs. “Just didn’t really feel like spending time with people tonight.”

You’re silent for a moment and consider his answer. “Why did you agree to hang out, then? You didn’t have to.”

His eyes never leave the road, but you see the veins in his hand gripping the steering wheel bulge out for a moment as he squeezes it tightly.

“I guess I meant I didn’t want to spend time with people I don’t really care about.”

Your heart skips a beat, but you play it off with a sarcastic tone. “Aw, you care about me?”

“Of course I do,” he replies easily. “I’m not sure why, though. You’re so fuckin sassy sometimes.”

“You love it.”

The car rolls to a stop at a red light. Grayson’s hand slides from where it’s lightly gripping the gear shift, to yours, which is picking at a loose string on your leggings.

Your easy smile at the comfortable banter between you and Grayson falters some in surprise, but you let him turn your palm over and trace the lines of your hand softly. Both of your gazes are fixated on the way he tickles your skin when he says, “Yeah. I do.”

Your eyes shoot up, just in time to meet his. He looks at you with a weird mixture heat and vulnerability, and there’s a thick moment of silence, no longer than the single beat of your heart that you can hear thudding loud and clear in your ears, when suddenly the car behind you lays on the horn.

Both of you startle, and Grayson’s attention returns to the road ahead. He steps on the gas and takes his hand away, carding it through his hair roughly as you sink back into your seat with a disbelieving scoff.

“Oh my God, dude, you can’t just do that to me,” you blurt out, your heart in your stomach and your brain even lower. A helpless giggle escapes you, and you tug on your own locks. “Shit...”

“What?” he asks defensively, but you hear the tiny bit of the grin he’s wearing in his voice.

You turn your head to deadpan him, eyes wide. “You can’t just... imply something like that and give me sex eyes and not think you did something to me! Are you crazy?”

He gives a one-shouldered shrug with the arm resting on top of the steering wheel again. “Maybe. You’re proving my ‘sassy’ point all over again.”

“Oh my — don’t fuck with my head, Gray.”

“Hey.” His voice is deeper, more serious as the car comes to another stop. You’re only just now realizing you’ve reached the burger joint, and that the late hour made finding parking a nonexistent problem. He puts the car in park and unbuckles his seatbelt before doing the same to yours. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to fuck with your head, I promise. I just... didn’t want it to seem like I was coming on too strong too suddenly. I, uh, have a history of doing that.”

You stare at him, processing everything. “I know.”

He chuckles dryly. “Yeah, I know you do.”

There’s more silence. That heavy kind that happened right after his little impromptu confession.

“You know,” you finally speak up, finding your voice after mulling over your words, “I kinda love that you’re a douche.”

He looks a little taken aback, until understanding dawns on him, and his eyes light up in a way that has you smiling instantly with him. “Really?”

You nod. “Call me crazy.”

Grayson shifts closer in his seat, his pink tongue darting out to lick those plump lips. You mirror him, and this time you take the initiative to reach out for his hand. It’s warm and strong, just like the rest of him.

Like earlier, you watch your hands lightly caressing each other as you speak. “And I love that you come on strong. And that you put your heart out there.” You interlace your fingers, immediately in love with the contrast of his huge ones between your slim ones. “Makes things way easier for me.”

He grins wide. “There’s that sass again.”

You bite your lip through your smirk and tug him close to you with your clasped hands, your free one reaching behind his neck to drag his lips to yours. “Mm. Better shut me up, then.”

[smilexcaptainx]

Can i get a chris when you two acted on a movie together (not as love interest tho cause shes only 22) and became good friends so they decided to quarantined together in readers LA home bc chris was worried about her being alone. Reader got asked to be part of the mv for "stuck with you" and so she asked him to slow dance with her for it (since thats what everyone was doing) & thats when he realized he has very strong feelings for her heheh

request an imagine here

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: None

A/N: Happy 2021! I’m just cleaning out all the requests from my inbox. You guys are truly amazing, and I love all the sweet messages that are sent to me. I love you guys, and I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 1.2K

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Chris bit into his folded pizza that you had teased him about earlier. You always found it odd that he ate his pizza that way, but it just gave more of a reason for Chris to make cute remarks back to you. He had been a good friend of yours ever since you starred in the same movie as him. He always claimed that you stole the spotlight from him, but you would just play along and agree with him.

When Quarantine had hit, Chris was more than happy to invite you over to his place and spend as much time with you as needed. Many nights of board games, movies, videogames, and just hanging out talking about life. You had gotten to know Chris on a deeper level. What shocked you the most was that he had gotten an Instagram!

It was like teaching your father how to use technology, but Chris eventually got used to the app. Tonight was one of those nights of a movie night. Chris had bought a pizza for the both of you to share. Chris had paused the movie for you to use the restroom. He was peacefully eating his pizza before he realized that you had been gone for a long time.

Normally, he would start the movie without you, but he knew how much you’ve wanted to see the movie. He wiped his hands onto his blue jeans after taking the last bite of his pizza. His ocean blue eyes scanned the area of the living room as he chewed up his final bite. He swallowed his bite and raised an eyebrow.

“Hey, [Y/N]! Where’d you go?” Chris called out, moving his plate off the couch and onto the little table in front of him. “You still alive?”

Chris lightly chuckled to himself as those words left his mouth. Although he found it humorous, he knew that it wouldn’t be funny if you actually were extremely hurt. Chris cleared his throat and rose up to his feet. He walked around the couch and started to go on a hunt for you through his house. He checked every room, every bathroom, but you weren't present in any of them.

Chris was beginning to worry. He speedily made his way back to the living room, only to see your figure sitting on the couch. Chris released a sigh of relief. He was glad to see that you were safe. If anything bad were to happen to you, Chris knew that he possibly wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. Chris walked up to you from behind.

“BOO!!!”

You shrieked in fear, your phone slipping out of your hand. Luckily, it landed on the cushion beside you instead of the ground. Chris wheezed out his laugh before patting you on the head. 

“That’s what you get for worrying me,” Chris joked, walking around the couch back to his seat. “Anyways, can we start the movie back up?”

You slapped your hand onto his back as he lowered himself down onto the couch. Chris froze as he felt your hand push him back up.

“You almost sat on my phone you fool,” You said, swiping the phone from the cushion. Chris smirked. “There, now you can sit down.”

Chris plopped down onto the cushion beside you, immediately swiping your phone from you. You gasped as you had lost the possession of your phone. You glanced over at Chris who had wide eyes.

“No way, is this the Ariana Grande? As in the girl from that one Nickelodeon show?” Chris asked, swinging his eyes over to meet with yours. You nodded. “What’s the occasion?”

“I-It’s nothing,” You stuttered, retrieving the phone back into your hands. Chris stared at you in disbelief. You sighed in defeat. “Fine. She asked if I could be part of her newest music video. It’s called stuck with you.”

“I don’t see any problem with that.”

“Um, the issue is that I need to find a dancing partner, which I was thinking would be you,” You explained further, his eyes piercing into yours. Your heart skipped a beat. “I’m a terrible dancer Chris, and you know that.”

“Unfortunately, that is true,” Chris said, slowly rising up to his feet. You remained seated as he descended his hand toward you. You shifted your eyes between his hand and his eyes. “But I’m not going to give up on teaching you.”

“I guess you could say that,” You mumbled, sliding your hand into his hand. Chris assisted you off of the couch. “Wait, before we start. I can play the song, you know, so we can get a feel of what it is. She said that she just wanted just a little slow dance sort of thing.”

“Slow dance? That sounds easy,” Chris said with a nod. “I’m ready when you are.”

You quickly pressed the play button. The song blasted through your phone speaker. Chris could already tell what the feel was. As you were focused more on listening to the song, Chris turned your attention from the phone.

“[Y/N], it’s a great song, but I kind of want to dance,” Chris said, pulling you closer to him. “I’ll lead the way.”

Chris kept you close as he began to sway back and forth. Your eyes fluttered shut as you got more into the song. It was romantic in a way, and you couldn’t be anymore happier. Chris was the only one you remotely even planned on slow dancing with, and now that it was happening, it felt like a dream. You gently laid your head against his chest as the song continued.

His presence had never felt so sweet. Chris tightened his grip onto your figure, smiling widely to himself. He couldn’t fight those butterflies that were appearing in his stomach. Never did he think that he was going to fall for someone like you so soon. He knew so much about you, and wanted to continue to learn even more.

He could feel himself falling for you the longer you remained close to him. He felt extremely intimate with you this very moment, and he couldn’t love it even more. Before Chris knew it, the song had come to an end. The sensation of having you this close to him lingered with him. You didn’t even realize that the song was over before Chris stopped moving.

You blinked yourself back into reality. You raised your eyes to meet with his diamond blue eyes.

“And you say you can’t dance,” Chris scoffed, causing you to blush lightly. “Anyways, is it time to start recording?”

“Yeah let me-”

“I want to record it on my phone,” Chris said, sliding his phone out of his back pocket. “I want this video on my phone so I can post it on Instagram afterwards,” Chris said, making you crack a small smile. “I want to show the world how terrible of a dancer you are.”

You acted offended and playfully whacked Chris on the shoulder who just laughed at your response. Chris set up his phone to record as you restarted the song. You two returned to your positions. Chris held tight onto your hand and smiled brightly at you.

“I know that we’re only supposed to do a snippet of us dancing,” Chris said, stepping closer toward you. “But I want to dance with you through the entire dance again. The first time was nice.”

“I agree.”

The moment you smiled up at Chris, that was when he knew. Although he was stuck with you, he was also in love with you.

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