#and then Ace fucks him stupid the end

[xamaxenta]

Koby: IM A MARINE! FUCKING HIS BOYFRIEND!!! AND HES NOT EVEN MAD!! HE JUST LAUGHS AND HUMILIATES ME BY DISMISSING ME AND JOKES WITH SABO ABOUT MY ‘marine stamina’ WHAT IS WRONG WITH HIM?!

Poor helmeppo, reluctantly invested in this mess: he’s a pirate lots is probably wrong with him, real question is why are you hard rn talking about this? Actually better yet why are you still sleeping with the revolutionary after being caught by his yonko commander boyfriend? Is it really that worth it?

It is, sabos pussy could turn coal into diamonds fr fr

Oh good god fucking rest in pieces Helmeppo

Pray for helmeppo dudes gonna need it 😂😂😂😂

Ace just likes sloppy seconds, he doesnt really interact with anyone else but Sabo, Koby was a one time thing bc the leftovers he brings back were so insane Ace had to know who it was that was that pent up

He also likes proving Sabo hes better than all his flings (truth, no competition)

Sabo just fucks and leaves bc hes a slut and unapologetic about how others feel about him and his magnum pussy

[aroaessidhe]

2023 reads // twitter thread

This Doesn’t Mean Anything

NA contemporary romance about a sex-repulsed girl starting uni and meeting an upperclassman who hangs out in the same study room and coffeeshop as she does

struggling with her asexuality, new friendships, and harassment

[gay-dorito-dust]

How’d they react to you calling them bro or dude whilst in a pre-established relationship…(platonic/romantic)

Dick: he’s insulted.

Gutted.

He will try to give you the silent treatment for such a shameful thing but ultimately fails as he ends up being the one pawing at you for attention.

‘Do you still like me? Or did you just run out of cute nicknames to call me?’ He’d say one night as your both cuddling in bed together. ‘If it’s the later then I can help you find something, just please spare me and don’t call me dude or bro anymore.’

He’d rather you call him Richard-wait, no he hates that even more because to him you’re not meant to use his fully name, only cutesy nicknames that’d make a grown man sick to his stomach. Nothing else would suffice other than Dickie bird, handsome, babe, hunk, honeybun or anything that wasn’t his name.

He’s go mad or would act delusional and say that everything was fine when everyone could tell that it wasn’t. People who know him have personally came to you and begged you to stop calling him dude/bro because he kept talking their ears off about how his beloved partner is torturing him, which ends up torturing them even more upon hearing about his relationship issues.

Dick would even consult Hayley on what he did wrong, only for Hayley to look at him with those big, big eyes of hers. This was not her level of expertise unfortunately. (Head empty, no thoughts. She can’t do her abc’s guys it’s a real tragedy.)

Jason: ‘I just had my tongue down your throat just now and you had to go and ruin the mood by calling me bro. What the fuck.’ - Jason at some point.

It’s a whole mood killer for him to be honest.

He’s calling you things like chipmunk or sweetheart but here you were calling him dude and bro. He knows for a fact that he’s well and truly out of the friend zone because the shit you’ve done together isn’t platonic in any sort of way.

Thinks Roy had set you up to call him dude or bro behind his back. (He hasn’t)

Jason is petty and will get his own back by referring you as ‘just a really good friend’, ‘buddy o’ mine’ or even worse than both of those; ‘chum.’ 💀

When you go low, Jason was more then willing to go to the depths of fucking hell to the point it had become a game to see who’d call out just how stupid this all was, and at the both of you for ever thinking that this was an excellent idea in the first place.

You’ll probs get punished…I’m just going to leave it there and let your minds guess what that ‘punishment’ was exactly.

Damian:

As much as Damian hates it when you call him Dami, he hates it when you call him dude or bro even more, if that’s even possible.

Damian hates it when you call him dude or bro. He’s not your dude or bro, he’s your partner and he expects no less then darling, my heart or my beloved.

So you calling him dude or bro is more than enough reason for him to give you the silent treatment.

‘Until you learn that I am your partner, I won’t want to be anywhere near you if you’re going to keep calling me your bro or dude. It is a disservice to who I actually am to you.’ He says with a huff and beckons Titus to follow, only for the Great Dane to be left confused as to why his human parents were at a disagreement over something silly.

Also Titus, Ace, Jerry, Alfred the cat, Goliath and BatCow are children of divorce because I said so.

So it’s bests that you apologise while you still can because Damian can hold a grudge unlike any other. Even if you didn’t, you’d still crack first before Damian and quickly put an end to calling him dude/bro.

He just thinks being called a dude/bro when in a pre-established relationship is an insult.

He can take a joke but not when it’s aimed at his relationship. He’s well and truly devoted to his relationship -if we’re to completely ignore the whole being Robin thing- that it might as well be an insult towards him too at this point.

[theostrophywife]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ best friend! enzo who is a little manipulative. ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

enzo comes off as so sweet and caring (and he is, but he also has a dark side).

he's the guy best friend that every boyfriend worries about. specifically, your boyfriend. the two of you are so close, practically attached at the hip, but you swear that nothing is going on between you two.

you're just really good friends; just friends.

there's no reason to be jealous.

you don't even see enzo like that.

there's absolutely no way that your innocent best friend would ever think of you that way either.

of course he'd never steal your favorite scrunchie — the pink one with little yellow daisies on it — just to spray it with your vanilla scented perfume and wear it on his wrist while getting himself off in his restroom, panting and pressing his forehead against the closed door, peeking through the opening to watch you make yourself comfortable in his shirt, his sweats, in his bed. the sight of it alone drives him over the edge, making him cum all over his fingers as he chokes down filthy moans of your name.

enzo definitely doesn't take a different girl to bed every night, wishing it was you underneath him, moaning and screaming his name instead of whatever random he settled on because he couldn't get to you.

cause really they're just distractions before you finally figure out that the two of you are meant to be together.

best friend! enzo has dropped so many hints over the years, he's not been subtle at all about it, but you insist that you're just friends. enzo thinks it's cute how blind and oblivious you are. but he doesn't think it's cute when you start dating your loser boyfriend.

he hates his fucking guts.

you're his girl. you belong to enzo and enzo alone. doesn't that stupid twat know that?

it's fine, though. enzo knows he'll win in the end. he has a plan.

he'll do whatever it takes to drive a wedge between you and your boyfriend; chipping away at the relationship bit by crumbling bit. enzo does everything in his power to make him seem like a terrible boyfriend.

he doesn't stop any of the cuddly affectionate best friend behavior cause why should he? who cares if you have a boyfriend? he's just for now; enzo is forever.

・❥・ best friend! enzo would give you flowers and chocolates when you ace your exams.

・❥・ best friend! enzo would pick up your favorite tea and stationary when he's at hogsmeade.

・❥・ best friend! enzo would come over with a heating pad and snacks when you're on your period.

ofc your boyfriend doesn't like this, he tries to tell you that enzo is crossing a line and you're just letting him. but you tell him that he's being ridiculous; enzo is your best friend.

you often have fights about enzo, because the little shit will purposely do things to piss your boyfriend off.

・❥・ jumping up at the chance to give you his hoodie to wear when you're feeling cold.

・❥・ leaning in so close to you while you're standing by your locker, whispering things in your ear to make you smile and laugh.

・❥・ leading you by the small of your back when the two of you are in a large crowd cause he knows it makes you anxious.

best friend! enzo does all of this in front of your boyfriend because he literally just doesn't care.

every time you have a fight, enzo comes to the rescue. it's like he has a sixth sense for it (he bugged one of your stuffed animals so he can listen in on your conversations).

like clockwork, enzo is at your door with a movie and snacks to take your mind off of things. cuddling you up in a fuzzy blanket and hugging you tight and stroking your hair while you sit and sniffle on his lap.

"another fight again? you don't deserve any of that. if I were him, I'd never make you cry, honey."

hand sliding up your back, rubbing soothing circles while he wipes the tears away. kissing your forehead and playing with your hair to comfort you.

"s'kay. i'm here for you. let it all out, sweetheart."

he hates seeing you upset, but he loves that it gives him a chance to push the boundaries. so what if you're spooning? you used to do it before, you should still be able to do it now.

best friend! enzo loves to hold you tight, his chin tucked into your shoulder while he brushes his knuckles over you ribs, the sensation of his cold rings against your skin making you shiver involuntarily.

"are you cold, honey? here, come snuggle."

just as an excuse to press his dick against your ass. like he pretends to be this golden retriever sweetheart but your best friend is shrewd and calculating. he knows how to push your buttons.

always making little comments like:

・❥・ "oh he left you to hang out with his friends? that seems a bit selfish, doesn't it?"

・❥・ "he doesn't want to take you to your favorite restaurant? don't worry, honey. I already made a reservation."

・❥・ "he forgot to give you flowers for your anniversary? that's okay, sweetheart, I picked out this bouquet for you just in case."

best friend! enzo is working overtime, but that's okay because it's all going to pay off.

cause one night when him and the boys are hanging out in the common room, you come stumbling in, obviously looking for him — teary eyed and sad.

enzo immediately ditches the boys to comfort you. taking you up to his dorm so you can talk in private.

"what's wrong, sweetheart? I hate seeing you so upset."

"we...we broke up."

best friend! enzo hugging you and whispering soothing words in your ear, "oh no, honey. come here, tell me all about it."

all the while he's smiling because hell yeah he finally got rid of that prick.

you're sniffling, telling him that you had the fight to end all fights.

"what was it this time?"

you tell enzo that the two of you fought about him, how enzo doesn't respect your boyfriend and that he's always undermining him and obviously plotting to break up your relationship so he can have you all to himself.

and your boyfriend is obviously 100% right.

but enzo tells you that your boyfriend is just insecure because he knows he isn't right for you.

"I know, and I realized that when he tried to make me choose." "what do you mean?" "he said I had to choose between you. it was either him or you." his heart stops when you look up at him, glassy eyed and pouting. "and I chose you." enzo kisses your tears away, peppering soft little pecks on your cheeks. "you didn't have to do that, honey." "of course I did, enz. I'd rather lose a boyfriend than my best friend." best friend! enzo leans in closer until your noses touch, his hand coming up ever so slowly to gently cradle your jaw. "I’m glad you chose me, y/n." "you were a better boyfriend than he ever was anyways. he couldn't even remember my favorite flowers."

"peonies," enzo says confidently while staring at you with those big puppy dog eyes. "you like them cause they bloom in the spring and they only last a week, so it makes them extra special."

"you remembered that?"

"I remember everything you tell me, honey. I know you better than anyone. your boyfriend knew that and that's why he tried to come between us. he was jealous of what we have."

best friend! enzo mumbling all of this with his eyes closed, nose to nose with his big hands gripping your hips as he holds you in place.

"but he had no reason to be jealous, right?" you whisper as his hands travel underneath your shirt, his callouses rough and scratchy against your exposed skin.

enzo shakes his head, coming closer and closer until the gap between the two of you is basically nonexistent.

"of course not, sweetheart. we're friends, right?" licking his lips while his lashes brush against your cheek. "and friends comfort each other and help them forget all about their shitty exes."

enzo’s lips are basically touching yours as you sigh, melting into him. "they do?"

"mhm," enzo mumbles against your lips. "let me show you."

he knows he shouldn’t. he should probably wait, but enzo doesn’t really give a fuck. he’s waited too long. he wants you and he’s gonna show you exactly how much.

best friend! enzo cradles your cheek and gives a look that makes you melt. you hold your breath as the gap between you closes. butterflies erupt in your stomach as his lips press against yours, the pressure of his kisses making you sigh softly into his mouth.

he’s definitely pushing it. this could be a disaster. you could push him away and it would ruin the entire friendship. but you don't.

you do nothing to stop him. if anything, you kiss enzo back just as eagerly. cause his lips are so soft and he tastes like peaches and you can’t really think straight with his big hands gripping your hips so roughly, squeezing your ass while he moves you over his lap.

his big hands moving higher and higher till he’s feeling you up, slipping a hand under your bra to cup your breasts. distracting you with hungry kisses that make you feel dizzy. all you can do is wrap your arms around his neck and tug at his hair because wow enzo can kiss.

best friend! enzo puts his whole body into it, he moans like a whore into your mouth when you accidentally roll your hips. there's a smile on his face when you finally pull away and enzo is pleased to find you glassy eyed and kiss bitten.

then he's diving back in to eat. slipping some tongue in there to really rob you of all thought like there’s not a single thing on your mind right now but enzo, enzo, enzo.

manhandling you so that the two of you are in a spooning position and making you whine cause all you want to do is to keep kissing him, but enzo just shushes you.

best friend! enzo leaves hot, sloppy kisses on your neck while he slips a hand underneath your sweats.

"told you i'd make you feel better, honey," he says in that rough sexy deep voice. "are you gonna let me?" you gasp when he rubs over your panties. "please, enz." the neediness in your voice makes enzo smirk against your neck. "good girl."

then he's tugging your panties aside, rubbing your slick all over and groaning into your ear. teasing with one finger, easing in so it makes a filthy squelching sound.

"so eager for your best friend, hm? you’re dripping, honey."

all you can do is whimper as he adds another finger, curling those long, slender digits inside of you while you gasp and moan.

"don't worry, sweetheart. I'll take real good care of you."

best friend! enzo fingers you until your eyes roll back while his other hand squeezes your tits. he’s insatiable, there’s no stopping him now. enzo scissors his fingers inside of your soaking wet pussy, spreading you wide and marveling at the sight of you greedily riding his hand.

his sweet girl is just so desperate and needy. but enzo is more than happy to help, pressing his thumb down on your clit and whispering filthy things in your ear as he coaxes you to cum for him.

the orgasm tears through you, making your whole body shudder as you ride out the high. the comedown has you seeing stars, flinging you into the far corners of space, but enzo is right there, his mouth a hot brand against your skin as he leaves love bites and teeth marks on your neck.

"you sound so pretty moaning my name, but I wanna hear you scream it, honey."

best friend! enzo hoists your leg back so he can line up. you can’t help but whine as he teases you with the head of his cock, those shallow little thrusts setting your teeth on edge.

you want him so bad you’d beg at this point.

best friend! enzo knows this. all those months of plotting and scheming brought the two of you up to this point. this is it. this is the moment.

as much as he wants to fuck you senseless, enzo restrains himself, hovering at your entrance as he releases a long suffering sigh.

"best friends don't do this, baby."

enzo pretends to stop so he can watch you panic, mascara streaking down your cheeks while you whine and groan. you’re aching for him. you need him so badly that it hurts.

"enzo, don't stop. please. I need more." "hm, so do I honey." he murmurs into your neck. "but you'll have to say the magic words for that to happen." "what is it? I'll do whatever you want." "say you're mine," enzo says while his fingers possessively wrap around your throat. "say that you belong to me." "but - but - we're friends." your head is spinning, barely able to speak as enzo squeezes. "sure, baby, and the sky is red."

his little smirk is the first glimpse that you get of his hidden manipulative side and oh it suddenly clicks that your ex-boyfriend was right all along, enzo has been scheming and manipulating and plotting for this to happen from the very beginning.

and you should be repulsed by it, but fuck why is it so hot?

"you've been planning this all along."

enzo shrugs nonchalantly. "what can I say, baby? I know what I want and I get what I want. I wasn't going to let your stupid little boyfriend get in the way of that."

"that's wrong - you shouldn't have -" gasping when enzo slips in a little more, stretching you out.

"you can be mad at me later, honey. but right now, let me convince you that I was the right choice."

"we shouldn't -" you start to protest, but it's half hearted. you already forgot what you were about to say as soon as enzo kisses your neck. he sucks at your earlobe, his breaths hot and ragged while he slowly grinds against you. both of you know that you're close to breaking.

"don't you want to feel me stretching you out, getting so deep that you feel me in your guts? I know you want it, baby. you just have to say the words."

you don't even try to fight it, because why would you? enzo would go to the ends of the world for you, that much was obvious. he wanted you - no, he needed you, and he'd stop at nothing to get you.

for the first time in your friendship, you know exactly how it feels.

so you turn over to look at him, pretty eyes brimming with tears because it hurts not to have him inside of you. "I'm yours, enzo. I belong to you."

best friend! enzo gives you a messy, filthy kiss as he finally slips all the way in. you gasp, fingernails sinking into his back as his thick cock stretches your walls. you can feel him throbbing inside of your pussy, every ridge and vein increasing your pleasure as he fully sheathes himself in your warmth.

"wanted to do this for so long," enzo grunts, nearly dizzy with how tightly you’re squeezing around him. fuck, you’re so perfect and you don’t even know it. "I love watching you fall apart on my cock. this pussy is mine and so are you. you’ve always been mine, baby.”

"I don't care that I had to lie and cheat to get you. now that I’ve got you, I'm never letting you go, honey."

meanwhile you’re reduced to a whimpering mess. you writhe and arch against the bed, wanting more and more of him.

"do you think it was easy watching him hug you, kiss you, touch you?" thrusting in so sharply as he fucks all of his frustrations out. "it was fucking hell, but I don't mind playing the long game. you should know there isn't a line I wouldn't cross when it comes to you."

the words make you moan and clench, because god this side of him is just so unhinged and sexy.

"it's a good thing I chose you, then."

and that makes enzo smile, flashing you that sweet disarming look before absolutely railing the fuck out of you.

best friend! enzo rolls over on his back and positions you on top of him, driving in deep and fucking you until you’re a blubbering mess, blissed out on his cock. enzo rubs your clit, urging you closer and closer to the edge.

"that's it, sweet girl. let go, I've got you."

best friend! enzo kisses your shoulders as his orgasm builds. enzo melts when you lift his hand up to your lips, kissing his knuckles so tenderly that his heart clenches at the sight of it. the sweet gesture sends him over the edge. his thrusts turn sloppy as he paints your walls with his cum, filling you up until he’s dripping out of your pussy and making a mess of his sheets.

the two of you lay in silence for a moment, his big arms wrapping around you as he places a kiss on your temple.

you snuggle closer, burying your face in the crook of his neck. "I'm still very mad at you, you know."

and best friend! enzo just smiles cause he knows you don’t really mean it. you never could stay mad at him for too long.

"would eating your pussy until you cry count as an apology?"

"enzo!"

"can't blame a guy for trying."

[minkieater]

EIGHT FIRST DATES ꨄ︎

001 》 HWANG HYUNJIN

your first time on tinder ends in... success? with thanksgiving only eight weeks away, you're hell bent on getting a boyfriend before then to show off to your family. with your first and only option being a dating app, you've scored a beau within hours. will he be the one you show up with thanksgiving day?

➤ see hyunjin's tinder profile here !

smut! mdni! oral r, lots of praise, lil bit of a breeding kink (protected sex tho!) wc ~10k

“yeah, but tinder? really?” your twin stood in front of you, eyebrows twinged in disgust, hands clutching his phone in front of him, thumbs hovering over his screen. 

“what other choice do i have? i have eight weeks to get a boyfriend. the clock is fucking ticking,” you threw your hands in the air, stopping your pacing back and forth in your brother’s cluttered bedroom. 

“i don’t understand why you let them get to you, bro,” he shook his head, climbing onto his bed, a shirt falling to the floor from the movement. “who cares if you don’t have a boyfriend? just be single, it’s better that way.”

“you literally have a girlfriend, ace,” you crossed your arms, fighting every instinct to not pick up the shirt that had fallen. “you can’t say shit like that when they don’t bother you. mom, matt and even vi started getting on my case about it.”

ace sighed, throwing his head back. “you don’t know anyone? not a single man who’d take you on a date?” he picked his head up to look at you with eyebrows raised, then continued when you gave him a swift shake of your head. “what about yeosang? yunho, san?”

you don’t think your face could look more horrified, “that’s fucking disgusting. we’ve all been best friends since we were basically born, they’re like another you.”

“they sound like three options to me,” he shrugged, then put his legs under his comforter that was scrunched up on the side of his bed, “can you close my door on your way out?” 

you made a sound of frustration, somewhere between a grunt and a whine as you left his room, right after throwing the shirt in his annoyingly full hamper and closing the door behind you. you went back to your own bedroom, the complete opposite of his, bed made with four different pillows for show, not a single article of clothing on the floor. the cleanliness made you smile, you even felt cleaner after leaving his room, you immediately hopped onto your bed and opened tinder. 

SOOBIN, 23 if u like jjk chainsaw man or solo leveling PLS hmu

JEONGHAN, 29 recruiting new members for my cult

HYUNJIN, 24 swipe right if you like art & wine

INTAK, 21 5’11 since it matters

“jesus,” you said under your breath, you didn’t know if it was because you just signed up for the app and it showed you who everyone was swiping on, or if everyone around you was really just  that gorgeous. everyone got a swipe right, and almost everyone afterward until the app notified you that you ran out of likes. 

“ran out?!” you yelled at your phone, eyebrows furrowed. you threw your phone on the bed beside you, the back of your head falling into the pillow with a loud huff. 

then your phone pinged with a notification. 

you picked it up at the speed of light, eyes widening at the little fire icon on your notification screen. you opened the app quickly, checking your matches. 

intak: hey ;)

you bit your lip, a smile growing on your face. your first match!

you: heyyy :))) 

intak: wsp

you: nothing muchhhh just laying in bed wbu!!

intak: bored :/ intak: u send pics? 

you immediately frowned, the adrenaline that was just coursing through you depleted within seconds, your heartbeat already slowing. this was why you didn’t have a boyfriend, why you didn’t date, why you never have. 

you quickly unmatched him, throwing your phone beside you again. maybe your twin was right, maybe downloading tinder really was stupid — it’s an app used primarily for hookups, and that’s not what you were interested in. you were looking for someone to show off to your ridiculously large family. to your cousins who have always belittled you for staying single, to your grandma who wants you to be with someone she approves of, to your little fucking sister who called you lame for never having a boyfriend. 

you were sick of it. you wanted a partner better than the ones your cousins have, one that would make your grandma give you the ring that still sat on her finger, one that would hangout with your little sister. one that would make your father proud, would make him smile down at you, one that he’d feel ecstatic about you walking down the aisle toward— even if he couldn’t be here to walk you to him. 

your phone pinged again. 

you picked it up with lowered expectations, clicking on the fire icon again. 

hyunjin: hey gorgeous :)

you looked through his profile again before answering. he had seven pictures up on his profile, every single one of them filling you with more curiosity. he had a few photos up with art you can only assume he made, a mirror selfie, two pictures taken of him, and a picture with another gorgeous man. you couldn’t believe he was on tinder — he’s perfect. 

you: hey handsome :)

hyunjin: are u a twin? 

you: i do happen to be a twin !

hyunjin: thats sick. are u guys identical? u look identical  hyunjin: yall have telepathy or whatever?

you: we are not!!! we get that a lot lol you: tbh no you: god must save that for the identical twins💔

hyunjin: are u sure ur not identical hyunjin: u guys look exactly the same hyunjin: how are u twins and u dont have telepathy

you perched an eyebrow, fingers typing faster. 

you: yes i am sure??? you: are you a twin???

hyunjin: no

you: right you: ill be sure to let him know we need to try harder to be telepathic 

hyunjin: i think telepathy is really beautiful, the whole concept of twins actually.  hyunjin: sharing the same DNA??? being essentially the same person split into two bodies, sharing things that no one else will understand just bc of how you were born. its really poetic

you: well were fraternal so we don't share all of our dna just 50% like any other sibling you: we could not be farther from the same person lol but yeah the concept of twins is rlly cool

hyunjin: anyways enough about that hyunjin: do u like art?

you let out a small chuckle— the conversation almost didn’t seem real. you went from one man asking about nudes to another asking you about your genetic makeup, then he asks if you like art? you couldn’t believe the face attached to these messages. 

you: yeah i fuck with paintings  you: i see you are an artist  you: i like what's on your profile !!

hyunjin: thank you :) hyunjin: would u want to go out this saturday? an exhibit opened up downtown, we could go to dinner after? it’s wine night at the bar across the street from the exhibit 

the adrenaline that escaped you earlier shot back through your body like lightning, you looked through his profile again. he’s so gorgeous, it seemed too easy — is he a catfish? there’s no way he’s just walking around single with a face like that, and he wants you? 

an art exhibit, wine afterwards, it seemed so sophisticated. definitely what you were looking for. 

you: yeah id love to!  you: send me ur number we can talk details (:

for the days to follow, you and hyunjin had been texting constantly. goodmorning, goodnight, what you’re eating throughout the day, random thoughts you’re having, even deep talks that go as long as one to two in the morning. day by day he was tweaking your mindset bit by bit — every morning you woke up with the same thought, maybe dating isn’t so bad. 

three days of a honeymoon phase did not go unnoticed by your family, or your friends. 

“what’s got you in such a good mood, tiny?” your mom asked, mixing her coffee with a silver spoon at the glass kitchen table, one leg crossed over the other. you should be used to the nickname by now but it still makes you cringe — twenty two and still called tiny by your entire family.

you didn’t even realize you basically skipped down to the kitchen, pouring a cup of coffee for yourself while humming a song hyunjin had sent you last night. you whipped your head around to her, a smile on your face, “it’s saturday.” 

her look was unbelieving, she knows you better than that. “you’re never this happy this early.” 

“she has a date tonight,” your twin says through a yawn, walking through the kitchen, arms stretching above his head. “with a tinder boy.” 

“ace!” you gasp, smacking his arm. you spoke under your breath, “why would you say that?” 

“what’s a tinder?” your mom asked from the table, looking at you both with furrowed eyebrows. 

you opened your mouth to speak but ace cut you off, “a hookup app.” 

your mom gasped, eyes widening, “tiny!” 

“it’s not just a hookup app,” san follows ace into the kitchen, black tee sitting tight against his skin, his arms flexing through the fabric — he was always your favorite. 

“it basically is, every girl i’ve met on there i’ve hit,” the smirk is clear on ace’s face as he looks to san, who daps him up with a chuckle. san mutters a nice under his breath — immediately demoted from your favorite.

“that’s because you’re gross. we’re going to an art gallery and going to the bar across the street for wine night after,” you smiled, a proud look on your face as you turned to your mom. she didn’t share the glance. 

“with who?” your step dad, matt, enters the kitchen from the living room, a mug of coffee in his own hands. “doesn’t sound like something the boys would do willingly on their saturday night.” 

“great, let’s just make my date a family discussion, thanks ace,” you rolled your eyes, walking to the fridge to grab your bottle of oat milk.

“a date? you don’t go on dates, tiny,” matt asks from the opposite side of the kitchen, hands on his hips, his coffee mug on the counter next to him.

“i do now,” you huff while pouring the oat milk into your coffee. “don’t ask any more questions, i’m going. end of story.” 

matt pulls his lips into a thin line, “not sure i like the sound of this.” 

“she’ll be fine,” ace counters as he walks to your side, the gallon of whole milk he just took from the fridge in his hands. “if she needs anything she has at least four different people she can call, one of us being six foot two.” 

“exactly,” you nod, mentally thanking ace for backing you up. he looks to you with a tight lipped smile and a hand on your shoulder, his way of saying you’re welcome. maybe you do have a little bit of telepathy, you’d have to tell hyunjin. 

getting ready was hard — you looked at hyunjin’s profile on tinder at least six different times before settling on an outfit. in one of his pictures he had on two tank tops, one fitted and one loose with a graphic covering the space, a beanie on his head, a pair of denim shorts and loafers. he was definitely into fashion, if anyone else had tried to wear that same outfit they’d look insane, but he pulled it off with ease. 

in another he wore black denim jeans, a fitted black quarter zip sweater that covered half his hands. he had his hair tied up and big glasses on his face —- such a simple outfit curated in a way that made him look so expensive. you just knew he’d show up in something immaculate, you had big shoes to fill to match his vibe, but you’d do it. you wanted to impress him, you needed a boyfriend out of this, after all. 

the one thing you had in your possession, the only thing that looked nearly as expensive as him was a long coat that was your mother’s. it took ten minutes of begging but she let you borrow it for the night, your only issue was basing the rest of your outfit around the coat. jeans didn’t look dressy enough, dress pants didn’t look girlfriend enough. you settled on a mini skirt with a pair of tights underneath, you had a pair of knee high boots and a sweater that pulled everything together. the coat fit you perfectly and hit almost the height of your boots, it was the perfect length. you spent at least an hour on your hair, another hour on your makeup, by the time you were finished getting ready you felt like you had really pulled the expensive look off. 

“it isn’t ten degrees outside, you know,” ace said as he sat too casually on your bed, your shared three best friends accompanied him on the white sheets. 

“i look expensive, do i not?” you played with your hair as you stood in front of your full length mirror, shooting daggers at your twin through the reflection. 

“you look like you're in your mom’s coat,” yeosang said from his spot on the bed, peeking his head around san’s shoulder. 

you scoffed as you turned around, “all you guys do is insult me, how am i supposed to feel any ounce of confidence before my big date?”

“i think you look great, tiny,” yunho turned his head to look at you from his spot on your bed, his massive frame taking up half the mattress. with his head laid on your pillows, his feet still dangled off the edge of your queen sized bed. 

“thank you,” you smiled to yunho, the only one who understood what a girl needs to hear before a date. 

your parents were close friends with the parents of the three boys on your bed, the lot of them have been a friend group since before you were born. you and your twin had no choice but to be friends with them growing up, forming your own friend group with the three boys that never disbanded, only grew closer despite your age differences. you always assumed you’d be close with them forever, that’s just how it was, how it’d always be. 

they were great friends most of the time, ace wasn’t kidding when he said you had four people you could call in any situation, any emergency, they’d always pick up. they were as much as your brothers as ace is, you considered all three of them like family. 

“i think you look great too, you gonna fuck him?” san perched an eyebrow, wiggling them with a mischievous smile as you made a face at him. 

“i am not a fuck on the first date kind of girl,” you shrugged, walking over to your vanity to check your makeup again. you grabbed your tube of lip gloss as you sat down, uncapping it to swipe over your already glossed lips. 

“how do you know?” yeosang giggled from the bed, “closest thing you’ve ever had to a date was prom, and you went with me.”

“that’s actually true,” you shrugged after applying the gloss, “maybe i might. who knows?”

“i hope you do, god knows you need it teens,” ace mumbles from the bed, his phone in his hands again – probably texting his girlfriend, reia. the pair had been together for six months, your twin’s longest relationship yet. you hadn’t had many chances to hangout with her, but from the times you have she seemed pretty cool, probably too good for your brother.

“i feel like maybe you shouldn’t be the one to say that to me,” your lips pulled into a line as you turned into your chair to face the group. “anyways, who’s driving me? the exhibit is downtown, like twenty minutes away.”

“yun’s the only one who has his car, unless you want one of us to drive your car,” san offered, and the other two boys immediately looked to yunho. 

“guess i’m taking you,” yunho said, sitting up on the mattress, no trace of malcontent on his face. “you ready to go now?”

you nodded with a smile, hopping up from the wooden chair. your parents didn’t ask many questions before you left, just telling you to be safe and don’t do anything they wouldn’t do. knowing their background there wasn’t much they wouldn’t do, your mom’s college stories haunt you to this day. 

the smiths played through the speakers of yunho’s car on the drive there, softer rock music instead of the usual heavier music he listens to. you brushed it off to the rain that dripped down the windows of the car, the vibe outside not much for heavy rock music with a loud, thumping bass, the emotional and almost melancholic vibe to steven patrick morrissey’s voice was a perfect match. 

“i’m happy one of us is taking you,” yunho finally spoke, the music quiet enough for you to hear him clearly. he looked over at you and smiled, the fingers on his right hand still wrapped around his steering wheel. “i don’t have to go over the whole call me if you need anything spiel, right?”

you laughed, “no, i know already, ace said it to matt this morning. i have four people i can call, blah blah blah.”

“i’ll leave my ringer on, so call me, don’t even bother with ace,” he shook his head, shifting his eyes back on the road in front of him – you missed the way his fingers gripped the steering wheel a little harder. “anything could happen, you don’t even really know this guy.”

“i know too much about this guy after only texting him for three days, trust me,” you laughed, “everything will be fine, i’m just looking at some paintings and having a glass of wine.”

“alright,” was all he replied, keeping his gaze on the road. yunho had never been one for many words, he was the one out of the three that you knew the least about. he kept his secrets close to him, was intentional when he spoke, only said what needed to be said always, yet he was still somehow the one you felt the most driven toward whenever you hung out. maybe it was because you knew way too much about the others, it left a certain curiosity about yunho. 

you looked down at your phone, a new text from hyunjin from one minute ago was the only thing on your notifications screen. 

hyunjin: just got here! i’ll wait for you inside the lobby :)

you: i’m pulling up now !

yunho pulled over in front of the gallery, looking toward you with another tight lipped smile. “have fun, be careful, please call me if you need anything.”

“gosh, i will, jeez,” you smiled, all teeth, then unbuckled yourself. “thank you for the ride, i’ll see you later if you’re still at the house, gonna hopefully bum a ride home from hyunjin.”

“i can pick you up, too,” he adds, and you roll your eyes. you open the door, sliding out of the car onto the slick sidewalk. 

“jesus, yunho, if you wanted to see me that bad you should’ve just taken me to the damn art gallery,” you teased, resting your hand on the top of the car door. 

his smile is wide as he teases, “your grandma fucking adores me, tiny.”

“goodbye, yunho!” you called as you shut the car door, a smile on your face as you began your walk up to the building that held the exhibit. 

within a second of being by yourself, reality seemed to hit you fast. just behind the tall, dark doors, stood a gorgeous man who was meeting you – taking you on a date, to an art exhibit at that. it all felt so sophisticated, so mature, maybe this would be easier than you thought. who knew tinder would produce such a well thought out date?

as you pushed open the door to the exhibit, you were greeted with a fucking museum. cream walls, pillars, the whole thing – you were grateful you dressed the way you did. your eyes scanned the people in the lobby, searching for mister tall, dark and handsome himself. 

as your eyes finally laid on him, you were really grateful you dressed the way you did. his hair was down, curly and messy yet still put together, a matching corduroy set of pants and a jacket, a black tee underneath. necklaces sat around his neck, laid across his chest, bracelets on his wrist and rings on his fingers – he made such a simple outfit extravagant, he looked like he had a personal stylist, someone to dress him with clothes that were tailored just for him. 

as you walked towards him, you felt your body locking up, the excitement you felt moments prior transformed to straight nerves. your eyes raked over his build, lean yet muscular, his jaw perfectly chiseled, as his eyes met yours it nearly took your breath away. he smiled, so wide you couldn’t help but return it, he was even more gorgeous than his pictures – in person, hwang hyunjin was fucking breathtaking. 

“hey beautiful,” he smiled as you finally approached him, wrapping an arm around you in a quick squeeze. “happy to finally see your pretty face in person.”

“i could say the same thing to you,” you laugh, it comes out nervous, your breath unsteady. “what’s the opposite of a catfish?” 

he threw his head back in a laugh, “you flatter me,” he waved his hand side to side, his smile so fucking contagious. instead of deflating, your nerves flare up worse, remembering that this isn’t just a first date with a beautiful man, this is your first date ever. dates didn’t come with an instruction manual, you didn’t know how to act, what to say, what to do. you don’t even like art like that!

he cut off your thoughts, “you ready to go in? i already got us tickets.” the way he looked at you was so inviting, his chocolate eyes so warm it made you dizzy. you nodded with a smile and he led the way, the man working the door offering a hey hyunjin as you walked into the exhibit. you lifted a brow, but thought nothing of it as he grabbed your hand, leading you to the first piece. 

his hand completely swallowed yours – veiny hands, long fingers that were covered in silver and nails painted black, you couldn’t take your eyes off of them until he spoke again, letting go of your hand.

“a replica, an ode to josep llimona,” hyunjin stands close to you, nodding toward the sculpture in front of him, then looks down to you. “do you know desolation?” 

you shake your head once and he continues, “it’s a sculpture, made in 1907 that’s in the museum of catalonia in barcelona. what do you see when you look at it?” 

you look at the sculpture, your head tilting to one side. it was a naked woman leaning onto something like a rock, her fingers intertwined, her face hidden by her hair. she looked distraught, like something terrible had just happened, as if she was suffering or mourning.

“i see a woman in despair,” your words are quiet and he smiles, a wide grin showing all of his teeth. you frown, “it’s sad, i want to help her.” 

“in the early 1900s there was a bunch of different pieces of art made for temples, this piece was a part of that group, well, a replica of the piece,” he tucks a piece of hair behind his ear, eyes trained on the sculpture before you. his passion was raw as he spoke, “within the group, artists made sculptures of women that had feelings like grief, despair and resignation. the whole idea behind it was capturing feelings instead of beauty.” 

“but she is beautiful,” your eyebrows furrowed together, bringing your eyes back to the sculpture before you. you frowned again. 

“notice how you can’t see her face?” he leans in closer to you, “her hair is covering it, but you can still tell she’s sad.” 

your mouth forms a small o as you turn your head, looking up to him, “oh, shit— you’re right!” 

“you’re adorable,” he smiles down at you, “do you know much about art?”

“a little…” your cheeks warm and you look away from him, a sleeve covered hand coming up to mask your blush when your faces had come closer than intended. “basically just what i was taught in high school.”

he lets out a small chuckle, “sorry to go all art nerd on you, then. i did a whole project on desolation last year.” 

“no, no, don’t apologize,” you shake your head, “it’s really attractive, actually.” 

he smiles again, a pink hue to his cheeks. “good to know.”

he moves to the next piece, long corduroy covered legs pulling you along as if he was tugging on a leash, you were whipped already. tall, gorgeous, respectful and smart, he seemed like the entire package. “ah, this one really speaks to me,” he says as he comes to a stop, squinting at the painting in front of him, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“yeah?” you ask, a small smile on your face as you watch him, then look at the painting in front of you. it looked like… a bunch of colors. green, a reddish line in the center, then a deep blue underneath. 

it simply seemed like a bunch of colors painted on a canvas, your eyebrows furrowed. “i’m gonna need you to go art nerd on me again, i think.” 

he smiles, “this is number two, blue red and green, by mark rothko. it was made in 1958, oil on canvas— do you want the whole backstory or just a little summary?” 

“whatever you want to tell me, i’ll listen,” you nod, shifting your weight to one foot, looking up to him as he spoke. his whole face lit up, he had stars in his eyes, you could tell he loved it here, loved art in general. 

you loved listening to people speak about what they love, the passion that flows through their words, how they tend to overshare the little details that they find just as important as the big ones. as hyunjin spoke about the green red and blue painting you accidentally tuned him out, eyes focused on his own, his long eyelashes, how the lighting in the building made him look like he belonged to the exhibit. 

exquisite, a masterpiece of his own, the way his tongue would sneak out of his mouth to swipe across his bottom lip, how his lips would part just enough to get a peek of the perfect set of teeth that lived inside. you gave him small nods as he spoke, not hearing a word of it, brain whirling about symmetrical his face is. 

“it’s basically all about personal translation, how colors can evoke different emotions in people,” he nods, looking back at the painting, “it’s all about the viewer, how it’s interpreted.” 

you looked back to the piece. you may have missed his monologue about the guy and the meaning but the art still looked like a bunch of colors to you — your head tilted again, your lips forming a pout. you wished you saw it how he did. 

“not feeling this one, hm?” your head snaps back to look up at him, your eyes widening. he must have seen the look on your face. 

“no, i love it, it speaks to me, too,” you nod, a nervous smile crossing your cheeks, the lie so clear on your tongue. maybe you didn’t think through what a date at an art exhibit would entail, especially going with someone who studies it. you were clueless in the cream colored walls, you wished you could see through his eyes, understand his thought process. 

“it’s okay, definitely abstract,” he shrugs, the warm smile that was still on his face told you he saw straight through your lie but he didn’t mind, “at least you got desolation right on the mark.” 

you run a hand through your hair, your cheeks becoming red hot, “i’m enjoying listening to you explain everything to me, though.” 

“there’s cooler ones the further we go,” his head nods deeper into the exhibit, his hands finding his pockets. you try not to pout again, maybe if you understood red white and blue better his hand would be intertwined with yours. 

as he brought you deeper into the exhibit, his statement sat with you in the silence, especially as you began skipping piece after piece — you thought that if this was his first time here and since he’s clearly an art guy, he wouldn’t be skipping anything. as you listened to the only noise, your boot covered feet hitting the floor, you remembered the doorman who called him by his name earlier. 

“have you been here before?” you asked from behind him, your eyes trained on the maroon coloured corduroy. 

“no, why?” it felt like a rebuttal as it left his lips, his eyebrows furrowing together, almost as if you insulted him. 

“just wondering,” you kept your thoughts to yourself, keeping tabs on every flag you weren’t sure what color to give. as lost as you were in the exhibit, it still interested you to be here, to listen and learn from him as he spoke about the things he loved most — plus there was him, the tall, perfectly gorgeous man that stood in front of you. 

the next hour was spent with hyunjin showing you pieces of art that you couldn’t begin to dissect, leaving him to pick them apart piece by piece. the feeling of being on the outside faded with each new painting, new sculpture, new drawing, he made you feel as if art was a distant friend you just needed to catch up with, even if you had never been interested in art before today. the way he explained, the way he taught, how he asked you questions, it made you feel like you knew all the information already– just needed someone to help you remember. 

hyunjin was easy to talk to, he was understanding— he was kind, first and foremost. your favorite so far was his thinking face, how he’s quiet as he stares, his arms crossed, his lips pursed. when he was thinking you could see the gears turning, you watched as that beautiful head of his began concocting some form of explanation, a feeling for what he was looking at, how he could explain it to you– how he could make you feel like you knew it already. 

then there was his smile, the warmth to his fingers that found yours again, the softness to his palm that enveloped yours perfectly. you begin to forget why you never dated in the first place if they were like this, full of curiosity, such a shared openness between yourself and another person, learning about each other and how to connect in real time. even if you and hyunjin didn’t share a passion for art, your conversation still flowed, you bonded through humor and the smaller things you’d learned about each other through texting. 

as you got farther into the exhibit, turning around and making your way back up to the front, you noticed hyunjin took off his teacher hat and put on his charmer hat instead. you didn’t notice the switch, but your cheeks burned on your walk back to the front more than they had the entire date.

“if you want to meet kkami so bad, why don’t you just come over instead?” there was a soft tug to the corners of his lips as he looked down to you, your fingers intertwined as you approached the exit to the exhibit. your adrenaline sparked, heart beating a beat faster, cheeks warming as if on command. 

“you don’t want to have wine?” you asked, but you weren’t opposed to the idea– as soon as hyunjin mentioned his dog and sent you pictures of him yesterday, you were sold on meeting him whether that was today or eventually. 

“i have wine at my place,” he shrugged, “i also have a record player and a dog.”

you took a moment to think– if you went to the bar, it’d be a public space, which is good for safety reasons and feels more casual than being in his apartment with just the two of you, almost takes the edge off. at the same time, his apartment would be quieter, more intimate, a calmer environment for you to get to know him better, you felt you knew enough about him already to be comfortable around him alone. plus he has a dog. 

“what kind of wine do you have?” you lifted a brow, a small smirk playing on your lips. you were sold already, but he didn’t need to know that yet.

his smile was worth a million dollars as he said, “you said you like red, so i picked up an ‘05 burgundy, cote de beaune.”

your smirk grew wider, ignoring the comment about the wine that you were sure was supposed to impress you, “had a plan to get me back at your place all along then, huh?”

“can a man not manifest?” he asked, immediately pulling a laugh straight from your lungs. “that’s a yes then?”

“yes, but only because i want to meet kkami, even if he isn’t very nice. he’ll like me,” you wave a hand at him, passing through the exit where a different doorman gave hyunjin a nod of his chin – a small gesture that didn’t escape your eyes. 

hyunjin’s car was nice, nothing special, it still had that new car smell mixed with that of his cologne. he played frank ocean through the speakers at a low volume, background music to the sound of the windshield wipers clearing his vision. you couldn’t help but stare as he drove, eyes lingering on his sharp jaw, how his hair curled around his neck. your focus caught on his ring clad fingers that wrapped around the steering wheel, ears perking up at the soft hum emitting from his throat to the tune of the song. it was comfortable, you were comfortable, you began to regret the last few of your life spent not dating. 

when hyunjin unlocked his front door, the lights in his apartment were already dim, and the oreo colored ball of fluff ran up to you immediately. he barked at first, but after you bent down and greeted him with a few strokes to his back, kkami was on his back and quiet, enjoying your affection. 

“i told you he’d like me,” you smiled up at hyunjin through your eyelashes. 

“i didn’t doubt you for a minute,” he stood smiling with an arm out in your direction. he had already hung his coat on the rack beside the door, he stood above you with a hand out in an offer to take yours too. you stood and began to take it off but he stopped you, painted fingers slipping underneath the wool to slip it off your back himself. 

a blush crept back onto your cheeks again as you muttered a thank you, finally looking around to take in his space. all of his lights were dim, casting warmth onto his furniture, all dark and muted and cozy. his tables were all deep wood, there wasn’t much brightness in his space, not even in the books that littered the shelves on his walls. he had a tv across from the couch with a table in between, as you took off your shoes and stepped closer into the space you noticed art magazines laid across the surface. 

the art on his walls were all of the same type, you supposed, you wondered if he made them himself. a fuzzy throw blanket laid over the couch, plants lived in the corners, hwang hyunjin’s space was so inviting. you were glad you came here– one look at his own space showed you even more about him. 

hyunjin skipped through the apartment, lighting candles, opening his windows just a crack to let the noise of the rain hitting the ground slip through. 

“you can sit on the couch if you want, make yourself at home. i’ll grab us some glasses, put some music on,” he said with a hand halfway in a candle, flicking a lighter with his thumb. he was really dedicated to setting the mood.

you nodded and sat on the couch, kkami jumping up beside you on the cushion, crawling onto your lap. you pet his head down to his back, cooing at him getting cozy on your lap, pulling your legs up to cross beneath you. 

you heard the scratch of the record player and you turned to see hyunjin standing over it, placing the tonearm on the record while somehow carrying the wine bottle and two glasses by the stem between the fingers of his other hand. music fills the space of the apartment as he walks over to the couch and places the glasses on the table, pouring both of your glasses and placing the bottle between them. 

“i can’t believe he’s being this nice,” he says as he sits next to you, an arm swinging over the back of the couch, one leg folded in front of him as he looks down to kkami. 

“is this solomon burke?” you ask, eyebrow perching up as you catch the music playing through the apartment, you recognized his voice before the song.

hyunjin looks shocked, his eyes wide and his head tilted slightly forward, “i cannot believe you know that.”

“when did this come out? the sixties?”

“1964 to be exact, rock ‘n soul.”

“when i was younger i had a small infatuation with the movie dirty dancing, my favorite off the album is–”

“cry to me,” you both say in unison, then burst into a fit of giggles, kkami leaping straight off of your lap from your movement. 

“i love old music like this, it’s so raw, full of soul,” hyunjin says, grabbing your glasses from the table and handing yours to you. he swirls his around in his glass and you copy him, swirling your own before taking a sip. you tried not to cringe at the taste.

“when men weren’t afraid to say what they wanted to,” you agreed, continuing his thought with your own, “so open in showing emotion, their feelings, their passion. i love it too.”

“ah,” he nods, “that could never be me, i don’t think i could ever hide what i was feeling for a second, i don’t have it in me. i wear my emotions on my face, and proudly.”

you smile, “that’s good, better than good, it’s refreshing. never change that.”

“i don’t plan to,” he shakes his head, taking a sip of his wine, the two of you falling into a moment of silence.

“is this where you make me tell you my deepest, darkest secrets?” you joke, taking a sip from your own glass– you were never much for wine, at your big age of twenty two the most pleasurable alcohol you’ve tasted is a surfside. you get it down without a change to your face, looking through your eyelashes to the man before you. 

he lets out a sound of amusement, “you can start by telling me what you’re looking for, then we can get to your deepest darkest secrets.”

“i already told you, i just wanted to go on a date, see where it goes– i’m not looking for anything specifically,” you shrug, referring to one of the first conversations you had through text. you were lying straight through your teeth, you didn’t need to tell him the whole boyfriend before thanksgiving spiel. 

“not about the date, dummy, what are you looking for in a partner?” he tilts his head, sinking into the couch, getting more comfortable. 

“that’s basically asking me for my deepest, darkest secrets,” you roll your eyes, then give yourself a moment to think, process his question. did you even know what you were looking for?

you thought about your cousins, their partners, your parents, your stepdad, ace, his girlfriend, their dynamic… you knew what you didn’t want. 

“i want someone who knows me,” you start, a blush creeping to your cheeks again, “someone who knows the ugliest parts of me and still wants to be with me. someone who knows what i’m thinking, what i’m going to say before i do because they’ve paid that much attention to me.” you brush your hair behind your ear, letting out an uneasy breath. “i have a big family, and they’re really important to me… despite how insane they all are. i want someone who understands that, and my family becomes just as important to them.”

hyunjin nods, his warm eyes trained on you as if he was pulling the thoughts straight from your head, pushing for you to keep going. you welcome the push as your thoughts start to flow freely. 

“i want to be with someone true,” you smile, “i want a partner who’s honest, true to themselves and true to me, doesn’t fake anything, none of that sugar coating shit. a true partnership, teamwork, someone who really means it when they say through thick and thin, someone who doesn’t run when shit gets hard.”

“a relationship is pointless to me if it isn’t built on trust, i want to be able to have full faith in my partner and they also have it in me. to be known is to be loved,” you smile, then the smile drops as soon as you realize everything you just said. three sips of wine and you already can’t shut up. 

“every time i’ve asked that question in the past, every girl has always said something along the lines of i want someone handsome, funny, smart, kind,” hyunjin’s face is unreadable, a blank expression, yet there’s something tugging at him. “no one’s ever given me such a real answer before.”

“i didn’t mean to, i don’t know where that came from,” you say honestly, then sip your wine again, a bigger sip this time. if you were going to talk like this then you might as well catch a buzz before you do.

“i like the honesty,” he smiles, “and i agree with a lot of it– i can be a lot sometimes, with what i’m passionate about, how my interests can change within a day’s time. i’m not very organized, i like to do things without a schedule, more spontaneous than planned. that’s not everybody’s cup of tea, so if someone were to be with me for real, i’m a lot to take on.”

“i do like spontaneity,” you nod, “but i am definitely more of a planner, i was happy we made plans days in advance. gave me time to mentally prepare,” a laugh leaves you. “you’re definitely a more passionate person than i initially thought.”

“there’s a lot more passion you haven’t seen yet,” he winks, then takes a sip from his wine. 

you giggle, “yet?”

“yet,” he nods in confirmation, and there’s something about the way he’s saying something without saying it, making you read between the lines but also being so obvious. it’s his confidence, the way his jaw is set but he looks so soft, so inviting, it makes you want to lick the line from below his ear to his chin. 

maybe san and ace were right – maybe you did need this, maybe you even wanted it. you couldn’t put your finger on why that sentence made your body run hot, a burning in your core that you haven’t felt in ages, a want for somebody else that wasn’t fully based on looks or a system full of a frat house’s jungle juice. 

“when do i get to see it?” you ask, tilting your head, letting your tongue slip out to lick your lips. a smile graces his own, like he was hoping for that answer. you weren’t sure where your own confidence was coming from, maybe it was being so honest with him, a feeling of being connected to him through your own revelations – things you haven’t shared with anyone else. 

“just say the word, baby,” his words are like velvet as they leave his lips, kissing your ears with such a sweetness you were willing to start begging. you’d never been called baby by anyone, never been so wound up so quickly by something so inexplicably sexual – you decided then and there that your first ever date was only going to end one way. 

as if on cue, the song changed, cry to me by solomon burke playing through the record player, the soft cracks of the vinyl making you feel as if fate was in the dim living room, too. 

“show me,” your words were barely above a whisper, the eye contact you were holding was so strong, so powerful it felt life changing when he moved across the couch.

he took your glass from your hand in silence, setting the pair on the coffee table, then his hands were on you. his right hand came under your jaw, his left in your hair and then he took a pause, giving you a second to burn the sight to memory, making sure you felt the intensity of his stare before he leaned forward, attaching his lips to yours. 

his lips were as soft as they looked, plump and sweet, tasting like the wine you’d been drinking and notes of himself, raw and unfiltered. the kiss was deafening, your ears rang, you were putty in his hands from the moment his painted fingertips touched your skin. your hands went to his forearms, fingers latching onto his soft skin as his lips moved with yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth the second your jaw opened wide enough to let him in. 

your lips were still touching as he mumbled, “taste just as sweet as i thought you would.” you could feel him smile into the kiss as you replied with a noise of satisfaction, somewhere between a moan and a whimper. 

he moved to sit back on the couch, legs bending with his lips and hands still on you, forcing you to follow him backward. you lifted up on your knees and crawled on top of him, settling yourself into his lap. you ignored your skirt as it lifted, forcing yourself free of its confines, letting it rest just below your ass and high on your thighs as your hands moved to his neck, fingers twining into his hair, tangling in the roots. 

a low groan left his lips when you offered a sharp tug to his dark locks, his hands moving from your head down to your waist, one slipping down to the plush of your ass. you gasped into the kiss, welcoming his tongue again, effectively silencing you while making your head spin. 

you stayed like that for awhile, making out on his couch, hands exploring and touching and feeling and not quite taking the step to go farther. when he finally pulled away and let his head fall to the back of the couch you pouted, the voice in the back of your head telling you to follow him backward, to lick up the column of his neck he was showing off so proudly. 

“i didn’t bring you here just to sleep with you, you know,” he admits, his expression turning serious, lowered eyes locked on yours through long lashes. 

you nodded, bringing a hand up to wipe the remnants of your messy makeout from your bottom lip with low, cracking music from the record player still filling the space of his living room. you felt as if he was leaving the next step up to you, and you were met with two choices: to cut it off here, not go any further, maybe kiss a little more then go home, maybe even plan another date. or you could grind yourself against his lap, lick up his neck like you want to, and finish what you started. 

“okay,” you blinked, not missing how his chest rose and fell, a need disguised by heavy breaths locked within his chest that he was trying not to show. he wanted this just as much as you did, the only choice was the latter— you weren’t used to the choice being left to you.

“what if i want to?” you asked, batting your lashes, a ghost of a smile sitting on your lips. his own smile grew, his fingers grabbed your hips, his hips bucking upward to push you toward him once more. 

you kept him there, back against the couch, head tipping off the back of it as you acted out your fantasy, dragging your tongue from just above his collarbone to his jaw. he groaned again, a vibration against your tongue as your lips worked onto his neck, his fingers gripping your hips harder. he used his hands to move you, grinding you against himself until you could feel what you needed pressing up against your too clothed center. you gasped into his skin– it was hot, the feeling of being guided yet knowing you were the one holding the reins. 

you didn’t need his hands anymore as your lips met his again, hips rocking against him all on your own as your fingers clutched onto his roots, tugging at them to bring him closer to you. it felt like a dance, one that you’d been performing for years, your bodies moving in sync with one another so perfectly you almost forgot you met each other a couple hours ago. 

his fingers reached for your sweater, you broke the kiss just long enough for him to tug it over your head, your fingers immediately reaching for the hem of his own shirt. he unclasped your bra with one hand rendering your chests bare against one another, the heat between you only intensifying with his skin against yours. he leaned off the back of the couch and you moaned as his hands made their way up to your chest, thumbs dancing over your peaks with a feathered touch, your hips plummeting into his own. 

“so perfect,” he breathed, attaching his lips to your chest instead and your head fell back with a sigh, back arching into his touch. “so sensitive.”

“always,” you mumbled, voice sounding completely dazed, yet you made the conscious decision to not share that your sensitivity was from your lack of experience. not that you haven’t slept with many people, you did go to a big school, but it was never like this. basically sober, so intimate, watchful eyes on your reactions and words spoken between kisses, never with a man anything like hwang hyunjin. you were used to drunken quickies with finance majors, a quick rub to your clit before they slipped inside, in the bathroom of a frat house or if you were so lucky, a bedroom on the top floor. 

his hands fell to your thighs, fingers trailing over the nylon, thumbs rubbing circles on the inside as his pretty pink lips worked on you, your hands finding refuge in his roots again, scratching into his scalp. 

“wanna move to my room?” he looked up to you and it snapped you out of your haze, nodding down to his chocolate covered eyes, and he stood. palms holding onto your ass, strong thighs hoisting you up, your legs wrapped around his tiny waist as he walked you through his living room, down a hallway and laid you onto the plush of his mattress.

his room’s lighting was just as dim as the living room, his windows already opened, a chill hitting the skin of your chest as your back hit the crimson duvet. he was quick to crawl on top of you, soothing the bumps that rose on your skin while straddling your legs with his own, fingers lifting your skirt up to your waist. 

“this okay?” his eyes flickered to yours with a pause, thumbs hooked beneath the elastic of your tights. you nodded, lifting your hips so he could get them down your thighs, yet he still paused. “words, baby.” 

your words were too quick, so eager it was almost laughable as you nearly cut him off, “yes, please.” 

he took his time sliding the nylon fabric down your legs, taking your socks with them and throwing the ball of fabric to the floor. you were left in your panties and your skirt around your waist, the skirt he quickly discarded, your panties he left on.

“you’re so fucking gorgeous,” he said under his breath, eyes raking down your body from your head to your knees. “i’m so lucky.” 

your face matched the bedspread, now you were really in unknown territory. your arms went up to cover your cheeks and he was quick to grab your wrists, lips coming forward to kiss the inside of your left one.

“don’t get shy on me now, let me worship you,” your chest was starting to match your face. it was mortifying being left bare for him when he was still clothed from the waist down, but it somehow made everything feel so much hotter. no man has ever spoken to you like this before, taken the time to learn you. 

you watched as his chiseled abdomen folded when he dipped his head down, lips pressing against the skin of your stomach, licking right below your chest. his hands let go of your wrists to slide down to your hips, thumbs hooking into the fabric of your pink lacy panties as his lips left a trail of spit down your waist. you fought every instinct to keep your hips planted on the mattress as his tongue slipped out of his lips to swipe below the hem, a gasp leaving your throat, your joints locking under his touch.

“wore these just for me?” he asked with a smile on his cheeks, cocking his head to the side playfully, thumbs rubbing circles into your hips soothingly. 

“shut up,” you mumbled, legs automatically closing around his shoulders out of embarrassment, only forcing his face down further to escape the cage you created. he giggled then placed a quick kiss on your clothed clit through the thin fabric, making a mewl rip from your throat, your hips bucking upward. 

“you’re so sensitive,” he marveled, eyes widening a bit like he had just discovered ground breaking information. 

you were growing impatient, hips no longer staying glued to the bed out of sheer will, you needed more. you whined, muttering a “hyunjin please” and his grin told you enough. 

he was quick to get back on his knees and slip your panties down your legs, throwing them to the floor with the rest of your clothes and he pushed you up the bed, kneeling in front of you. his eyes stayed glued to your center as he laid between your legs again, nearly drooling as he spoke, “such a perfect little pussy.” 

he licked a fat stripe up your folds and your head shot back, eyes screwed tight as a disgusting moan escaped your lips. he smiled into your core, you could feel it amongst his flattened tongue that worked you from bottom up.

“tastes as good as she looks,” you couldn’t bother to be embarrassed anymore, hips bucking into his mouth, your hands flying to his hair. he groaned into you, lips sucking harder around your clit, listening to your moans for what you liked best. 

he worked up to a rhythm, sucking on your clit and licking swirls with his tongue before you felt the painted tip of his finger poking at your entrance. 

“yes, yes,” you repeated through a moan and he pushed in, his finger immediately curling upward and you saw stars. eyebrows furrowed and mouth hung open you were choking out moans, repeating words of affirmation to hyunjin that you hoped made sense. 

as your stomach began to tighten, you couldn’t believe it. no one else had ever made you cum before, that’d always been something you could only do by yourself. excitement bubbled in your stomach as well as your impending release, words flying out of your mouth you couldn’t even decipher. 

“please make me cum, please hyunjin i’m close,” your mouth was moving before your brain could think of the words, back arching off the bed and fingers yanking at his hair, you were praying he’d get you over the edge.

hyunjin kept his rhythm, curling his finger inside you and sucking at your clit until he felt you clench around him, your body locking up. your toes curled as your back arched up off the bed, thighs strangling his head between them, chin tucking into your chest as you cried. mumbles of i’m coming please don’t stop left your lips repeatedly as the dam in your core cracked open, you felt static in your veins and such a vicious shake to your body that seemed to last forever. 

when your body went limp and you let go of his hair, hyunjin broke free, coming up for air with his tongue swiping at his swollen lips. 

he crawled up your body, mouth finding yours quickly and you melted into the mattress, arms hooking around his neck. “so good at that,” you mumbled between kisses, “made me cum so hard.” 

“that was the goal, baby,” he smiled into the kiss, his right arm flying down to his belt. you met him halfway, fingers unhooking the silver buckle while your lips never parted until you finally pulled it from its loops. you unzipped his corduroys and your hand reached above his briefs, palming him over the fabric.

he groaned, his cock rock hard against your skin, and you smiled. “i need you,” you said, lips still touching his, and the sound that left his mouth straight into yours was lethal.

he got his pants off in record time, reaching for a condom in his nightstand. he rolled it on with ease and slipped right back between your legs, your ankles in his hands. he kissed the inside of your ankle once, twice before he wore his serious expression again. “tell me if you want to stop at any point, okay?” 

“i will,” you nod, twitching with impatience before he lined himself up with your center. he pushed in slowly, your entrance slick with your orgasm didn’t give him much resistance. you moaned at the same time when he bottomed out, your eyes flying to the back of your head and his head fell forward. 

hyunjin wasn’t thick but he was long, you could feel him so deep. it was a delicious stretch, a feeling he shared as he said, “feel so good around me baby, pussy’s so perfect.” 

you moaned in response, hips moving to create some friction, begging him to move. he caught on, slowly pulling out before rocking back into you, letting go of your thighs to lean over your frame. 

you felt small beneath him, as tall as he is he felt massive above you, inside you. your ankles hooked around his back, thighs pushing him inside you as your chests met.

“so fucking big,” you moaned out, nails clawing at his shoulders as he picked up the pace. his right hand moved to your jaw, holding it steady to press his forehead to yours before he connected his lips with yours again. 

the kisses were nasty, more tongue and spit than anything but it was so hot. you moaned into each other’s mouths, every inch of your skin touching, everything about it was so intimate. it was all so new yet you welcomed every part of it, hookups in frat houses would now be a thing of the past — there was no better than this.

“so tight, baby fuck,” his eyes were screwed tight as he picked up the pace, his head falling into the corner of your neck that met your shoulder. you let out small whimpers with each of his thrusts, the curve to his cock hitting every spot you needed it to. 

“you g’na cum for me?” you sounded so fucked out you didn’t recognize your own voice, so weak and desperate. 

“need you to cum for me first, pretty girl,” he lifted his head, rocking his hips into you harder, bringing his arm between your bodies to rub your clit. 

“fuck,” you gasped out and his lips were on yours again, still all spit and tongue, he swallowed your moans as you felt the tightness in your stomach form again. 

“cum for me, baby, please, cum around my cock,” he moaned as you clenched around him, his thrusts beginning to lose their edge as you approached your peak. 

“i’m coming,” your words were rushed out as your second orgasm finally crashed over you, the most lewd noises leaving hyunjin’s mouth and directly into yours. you looked up to him with stars in your eyes, his own clamped shut, wet hair sticking to his forehead. he was beautiful like this — you were in awe. 

“good girl, fuck, gonna fill you up,” his thrusts were erratic, not as precise as before as he choked out, “gonna make this pussy mine.” your ankles tightened around his back as he fucked you through your orgasm and towards his own, your back arching up into his chest, nails clawing into his back.

“cum for me,” your head was somewhere else, “wanna feel you, hyunjin, let me feel you cum for me.” 

his hips stilled inside you, head falling to the pocket of your shoulder again, a deep groan leaving his chest. a moan escaped you, rocking your hips against his, milking his orgasm for as long as you could. 

you lay there for a moment, hyunjin still inside you, your ankles hooked around his back with no sound except heavy breaths and the low music playing from the living room. after a few minutes he rolled off of you, laying on his back for a moment before he got up to discard the condom. you felt cold again, the shiver from his open window creeping over your skin again, bumps once again rising to the surface. 

when he hopped back onto the bed with that beautiful fucking smile of his, warmth enveloped you once more. he pecked you once before hovering over your face, brushing a piece of hair away from your cheeks. 

“you’re so beautiful, you know that?” his eyes bored into yours with a seriousness he wanted you to feel. you smiled, cheeks flushing, arms wrapping over your chest.

your lips scrunched together in your smile, muttering a thank you while shying away from his eye contact and shifting your focus to his pillows. 

you felt like a brand new person — one that goes on dates, one that has sex, real sex. one that communicates, one that doesn’t shy away from a real conversation, one that is now fully open to having a relationship. 

by the end of the night when you and hyunjin were fighting for him to take you home (you wanted to go home, he wanted you to stay the night) you thought that maybe you wouldn’t have to go on any more dates. maybe hyunjin was it for you, art nerd and all, he could be the one to show off to your cousins— get that family ring around your finger. 

when he kissed you goodbye in front of your front door you were convinced. optimistic as ever and excited, full of adrenaline, you skipped into your dark house and fled up to your room, smiling from the time you hopped in the shower until your head hit your pillow. 

8fd masterlist | main masterlist

perm tags: @chimivx :p

[aestherin]

KEEP MY HEART

epilogue: where's the trophy

NOTE: ending the year with the very last update for kmh 🙇‍♀️ thank you very much for being patient and waiting for more than a year!! i'm so thankful and grateful for all of you 💗 i hope everyone has a great year ahead ^^ - ri <3

Short of breath, Scaramouche's eyes paced back and forth, from one direction to another, rapid blinks in between.

The timer.

03:00

Then the scoreboard.

TNU UI 1 1

He clicked his tongue in annoyance.

He has very little time to seal the game. What's worse, it's the opponent's ball right now. They're at a disadvantage. If someone from the other team manages to score, it's all over.

They're going to lose. Even in his last game.

He could hear the roaring drums from the two cheering teams. He could hear the clashing cheers from both sides. He could hear the narrations of the game commentators.

Hell, he could even hear his own heart.

It was beating—no, it was ringing. Whether it was due to adrenaline, exhaustion, or anxiousness, he couldn't tell.

He took deep breaths. Get your head back in the game, stupid.

He was near the mid-field line, making his position decent. He was quite confident in his ability to make himself available for both options — he can aid in defense, if need be, or he can go for the offensive if the ball manages to get near the goal.

Everyone in the field, including himself, is already exhausted. Every single one of them is running on adrenaline alone.

01:37

"Fuck," he uttered once he noticed that TNU's ace and forward, Xiao, has already managed to position himself near the penalty area. "You better fucking stop him, Heizou."

As if Heizou heard his captain's orders from a distance, he dashed, speedily locking on to the teal-haired male. "No you don't."

"Calm down. I don't even have the ball yet," Xiao replied.

Heizou could not help laughing at how one of Xiao's teammates attempted to pass the ball to him moments after he just said that.

"'Yet?' It's not 'you don't have the ball yet'." He flashed a smile so warm yet so sinister. "You won't even be touching it."

01:01

Xiao moved, intending to receive the pass. Heizou did too. Xiao sped up, Heizou did too. Xiao blocked Heizou with one arm as he ran, the other did too.

"You're annoying."

"Well, thank you." Heizou grinned. "It's my job to annoy strikers, you see."

"You're doing a very good job."

"You're really flattering me here, you know. I'd blush if you weren't my opponent."

Despite a certain someone making it hard for him, Xiao had managed to make his way near the ball. 'Only a hair's breadth away,' he thought. 'I can reach it.'

A much more solid block from Heizou.

Then a heavy, foreign-sounding, decisive step.

In the blink of an eye, Xiao's clear view of the ball was replaced with a blinding scene — one that radiated of long, golden hair. The only thing that came between him and the goal that he was so close to scoring.

"I'll be taking this now, ace," Aether declared with a smirk. "I'm afraid our captain wasn't really blessed with patience."

Heizou beamed. "Nice save, Ae."

The blonde nodded in response.

00:39

Scaramouche, being aware of what had just transpired, positioned himself a little closer to the area where he knew it'd be possible to for him to score.

It was a little farther, yes. But he trusted in Aether and his ability to send him the ball, wherever he is.

00:32

"Scara!" Aether's yell pierced from across the stadium, followed by a resounding noise from the intensity of his kick. The crowd collectively gasped in awe; eyes locked onto the ball that is now spiraling from one side of the field to the other.

Scaramouche leaped into the air, flawlessly cushioning the ball with his torso. "Good fucking boy," Scaramouche whispered with a grin.

00:28

00:24

00:20

Scaramouche could not feel nor hear nor see anything else, except himself, the ball, and the goal. He was now on the left side of the penalty area. He swore he managed to pass by a man with teal braids who tried to block him earlier too, but everything was a blur.

All he knows is he has to get this one shot in.

00:18

And there he was, Scaramouche's last hurdle.

Looking as big of an annoyance as ever. The dependable captain of the other team. The notable and talented goalkeeper. His greatest obstacle.

Kaedehara Kazuha.

Your older brother.

00:14

Scaramouche stalled in order to pace himself. The man standing at the goal was a formidable foe, he could not rush his decisions.

Think. Think. Think.

00:13

Fuck.

Kunikuzushi, think!

00:12

God, please.

00:11

As if on cue, a certain blonde friend of his made his presence known, finally managing to catch up near his captain's position. "Here!"

00:10

Without hesitation, Scaramouche swiftly positioned himself and got ready to pass, alerting the other defenders, and even the goalie. Even Aether prepared himself to receive it.

00:09

Scaramouche hit the ball, causing it to roll in Aether's direction, who was at the right side of the penalty area.

00:08

The defenders flocked to where Aether was, ready to block the ball once it reaches them.

00:07

Kazuha shifted a little to the right, in anticipation for what Aether might do. Scaramouche caught it.

00:06

The raven-haired man took a deep breath, then forced his body to move lightly and quickly, barely managing to catch up to the ball that he kicked himself.

00:05

A light tap, and the ball stops.

00:04

Kazuha's eyes widen upon realization, scrambling to get to the opposite side of the goal. But it was too late.

Scaramouche, the one in the blue jersey #03, has already kicked the ball.

00:03

Please.

00:02

He gulped as he saw Kazuha's outstretched hands. 'Please don't reach it,' he mentally begged.

00:01

Please make it. My goal.

00:00

Scaramouche drew a breath as the sound of the ball hitting the net echoed throughout the silent field.

And for a second, he stood still.

The buzzer rang.

Cheers were chanted. Drums echoed, and crowds roared.

His teammates were running towards him.

But he was running to you.

KEEP MY HEART — scara x reader smau

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TAGLIST I (closed)

@kararisa @krnzysh @syriiina @your-kuya-pogi @xiaosonlybeloved @xiaomainlmao @cindywasneverhere @coquettemaiden @sunsethw4 @lunavixia @calickoh @arealistonao3 @youthingazi @zyilas @mondaymelon @yukiipc @heartswonder @st0pthatsgay @ozzierenato @astreaa-express @shewolfmiko @lovelyycherries @myaaones @countessqin @aloveablechaos @letthewindlead @lunaavity @local-blueberry-boy @luminestars @layla240 @useless-potatho @atlaszi @alatusorrow @lahsram2201 @sakiimeo @user11918163805279 @vqazx @neigesprincess @kunicrush @yoursockstinks @hotgirlshit5 @mikctp @crucnhice @apotatouwu @yuaenri @sammybeefangirls @miko1ly @deffenferofjustice @etherisy @sagegreenthinks

[dizzybizz]

hai here is a sketch dump with too many fandoms :) sorry about the ungodly amount of men here i have been going through it and by it i mean gay

ok wait i ran out of tags??? it wont let me tag them all😭😭😭 im gonna have to be sparing with them uhh i guess i will have to ramble under the cut then cus i like rambling in my tags but i cant with this one 😭

(ok im back from the ramble: it is way too long.... proceed forward if you want to see some guy just absolutely talk nonsense for entirely too long)

no cus i swear i have tried tagging more stuff than this before and never hit the limit but whatever

hello i really use this like a fkn blog huh

i just wanted to provide some thoughts on the harper and rosé one first bc its important to me 😌 cus i was thinking abt harper and how in my head and heart of hearts she would be the kid who thought you get pregnant from kissing and i dont think she ever really grew out of that belief. <- this ended up spawning the idea of harper being a sex-repulsed ace and i will die on this hill actually. fight me or die, you die either way actually nvm

this is just a buncha blorbos i dont know what to tell you really. sketch pages like these always end up so weird for me bc for some reason my brain always wants the characters in them to interact in some way. whether that be talking or just reacting to what the other is doing... its something i cant stop with, its so stupid and silly and i hate it and i love it. where else would i see kabru slowly losing his mind with how loud phoenix wright is in court????

I THOUGHT I HAD GOTTEN OFF THE RAILS WITH THAT BUT THEN THE NEXT PAGE HAPPENED. and all i could do was laugh and ask "what the fuck am i drawing??? HOW DID WE GET HERE? WHY IS THISTLE HERE WITH LEOPIKA HELP" LIKE that page started with the big leopika and then i was like "man i miss thistle lemme draw him real quick" but the curse struck and now hes being homophobic so </3

i rlly like how the nic(k) page turned out ... i just have a lot of nicks i like drawing idk.. the lil guy is an oc,,, one day his ref sheet will be finished and itll be awesome but not for now, sorry baby, no can do. im weirdly happy with how the hands turned out for all of them tho?? so thats a W

yotasuke, murai, nick (youll never know which one im referring to. .. jkjk its hoult i love the pose there ehehhe), nic and the entire last page r my favs. i like em all but those rlly get me yknow- the olly too ofc but ive already posted him, dont mind him being here, hes part of the set. AND OVER ALL IVE BEEN HAVING SO FUN WITH SHADING BLACK AND JUST LEAVING SPOTS BLANK ITS SO ?`????

WHY IS THIS SO LONG PLS DONT READ ALL THIS THIS IS STRAIGHT UP EMBARRASSING AGHSDFGSDHJSGD im all like "yeah i dont like talking about myself or whatever" but as soon as i get to my process or blorbos or smth the floodgates fucking break open, not even burst man.

also dont mind how i havent even acknowledged pingas twink pokemon counterpart. hes just here for shits and giggles i dont know the guy like at all, i watched a handful of eps of horizons and that was it RIP

[shiggyscumrag]

To fuck or not to fuck?

Synopsis- After joining the x men you train with them one on one till you are inevitably forced to train with Logan. During a rough training session a heated argument arises and there’s only one way to break the tension.

Warnings- open wound mentioned, blood mentioned, cussing, penetrative sex (pnv), cum play if you squint, light slapping, oral (male and female receiving), choking, gagging, a bit of crying, over stimulation, nicknames babe and princess used frequently, no pronouns are used for (y/n), I’m sorry if I missed any!

AN- look I’ll be honest I just wanted to write a situation where you hate fuck Logan 🙌🏻 also this is probably not gonna be lore accurate but does it really matter when it’s smut with no plot? NO!! so enjoy fuckers ;) I did channel Deadpool energy for this character bc why not? Also the characters power involves using their voice to manipulate the people around them into doing what they want. ily pookies 💋

Look you didn’t want to be a stupid X Men. You made it very clear since day one you just wanted to continue living your “civilian” life and to keep blending in. Of course it didn’t work out that way. Professor X was the one who pulled you out of this almost normal day to day life and threw you into his rich ass mansion full of freaks. Ok you’re a freak too but you’re not trained like them. You should be out working your five to nine barely making ends meet in your shitty one bedroom apartment, but no. Now, you’re tasked to help “save the world” from worse mutants than you.

Reluctantly, you decide since you have no choice being here, why not make something interesting out of this new arrangement? After the tour of your fancy new “home” (really a school/headquarters), it’s time to meet your new coworkers. Friends? Eh too soon.

It was a little intimidating with them all lined up staring you down when you walked into the final room of Xavier’s tour. Storm standing to your far left, Cyclops beside her, Rogue, Beast and finally the Wolverine. One by one they gave a greeting, some more friendly than others. Until Logan (you later learned) just muttered a “whatever” and left. Pushing past you while staring you down. Jesus, what’s up with that guy?

You decided it wasn’t worth it to fight on your first day so you let it go. Then weeks passed, with week after week going slowly from one mutant to another teaching you new techniques. When eventually the mutant you dreaded training with the most was up. The one and only Wolverine, Mister Logan Howlett. Bit of an ironic name you couldn’t help but chuckle at when Xavier introduced him officially. Since Logan was avoiding you at all cost the whole time you’ve been here you weren’t exactly familiar with his anger issues.

“What’s so funny bub?” You could see his claws starting to peak from his knuckles and didn’t stop another chuckle.

“Knives for hands here doesn’t even know me and he wants to shred me already. You sure I’m safe here?” You say as sarcastically as you can, really emphasizing the safe part. Xavier gave a curt nod and turned to Logan.

“Don’t embarrass me.” Leaving the room right after, you and Logan were dumbfounded. You finally let out the cackle you were holding back hunching over when the door finally closed.

“Ha!! You got in trouble!!” You stood up straight clapping your hands together “You should really start playing nice.”

“You’re real fucking immature, you know that?” He said his claws slowly peaking out more after each comment you make. You start to smirk.

“Yeah? Well I am 100 years younger than you sweet heart, so who’s really the immature one?” You could be less cruel and not want to irk him on, but that wouldn’t be interesting. Plus we’re here to train. so might as well get it started.

“I’m going to kill you.” Logan stops holding back and releases claws in one swift motion.

“What happened to this being a safe space?” Before you could continue being a smart ass he lunges at you.

Dodging you stop talking and actually try to use the training you’ve gotten to kick this guys ass. I mean what’s his fucking problem? You haven’t said a fucking word to him and he thinks he can just treat you this way with no consequences? Well fine douchbag you can get exactly what you want.

“You’re really fast! I can’t believe you’re like a thousand years old!” You say giggling as you move right in time to avoid a punch to the nose. “Now that would’ve hurt!” You spin around him kicking him straight in the back knocking him down. A quick groan and he’s back up in a flash.

Dodging and weaving his swift lunges and jabs, with a yelp you fall to the floor after he kicks your feet from under you. After being quickly tackled and claws threatening to break the skin right above one of your major artery’s you let out a small whimper.

“Are you finally going to shut the fuck up?” Logan growled a top of you teeth beared chest heaving and forehead sweaty. That was kind of fucking hot actually.

“Let’s just stop and talk this out, yeah?” You say holding your hands up next to your head giving him a big toothy smile.

Logan was more than a bit confused when his body started to move and his claws retracted. In his mind he’s screaming at his body for stopping. Pissed off at the fact he’s isn’t in control. Standing you dust yourself off and start again before he could get his control back.

“Now before you try to attack me again, let’s just take a breath and calm down. You’re fine by the way. I just have control over your body temporarily.” Anger flashes across his face and it hits you that it probably wasn’t the best idea to start with that.

“Since you’ve been a major fuck face these past few weeks you know shit about me. So let me have the pleasure of introducing myself again. My names (y/n) and I can control people with my mouth.” You smile pointing to your lips. He just stares back with slight confusion and disgust. “I tell them an action and they do it. I could hypothetically kill you at anytime too, so let’s be chill.” You say winking at him.

“Well it’s good thing I can’t die.” He says smirking back at you. Funny enough you released him a while ago yet he hasn’t attacked you again.

“You seem to be calm now?” You question. “Is that lesson one?” You poke at him.

“Don’t push it.” He huffs rolling his eyes and walking away. Doors closing behind him you crumble to the ground adrenaline rushing out of you.

A week or so of training later you and Logan still dislike each other as much as the first day you met, but you could feel a tension beneath the hate. A deep seated craving consisting of mostly hate but also a little curiosity. Maybe, even a bit of sexual frustration?

After a particularly long day of training you were quite irritated at Logan. He was being even harsher than he usually is, it was pissing you off. He lunged at you when you weren’t expecting it leaving a deep cut running down the center of your back and you couldn’t hold back a growl.

“What’s your fucking problem today?” Turning to him you stop making him hesitate. “Was I too nice for your liking, Wolvie?” You mock starting to walk towards him, frustration evident on your face.

“It is explanation enough to say that I just don’t like you?” Logan spit as venom coated every word, all while that stupid smirk wore his face. That’s it.

“Down.” Without a second to waste his knees hit the rough floor hard causing a groan to break his smugness. He couldn’t move, only being able to look at you and the anger that filled your eyes. Rage would be a better description. Joining him down on the floor you kneel as you find his chin making him lean closer to your face.

“You don’t have to be cruel Logan.” You pause looking right into his hazel eyes finding that look again. This time there was something different. You couldn’t help but soften slightly as your anger slowly started to fade. Then a sting of pain from sweat seeping into the cut he just gave you reignited the fire. Grabbing his chin harder he winces as you pull him against your forehead, noses practically touching and lips inches apart.

“Don’t let this happen again.” You push his face back hard making him tip over as you release him. Staring him down you finally turn once he stays put and leave.

Half way down the hall you hear the doors burst open with a loud bang and angry footsteps starting to rush after you. Turning you’re suddenly face to face again with Logan. This time your chins being grabbed and pulled towards his face.

“Look I don’t have a problem with you.” He whispers softly while he stares you right in the eye. It’s really hard to stay mad at him when his kitty hair is all disheveled and he’s flushed like a school girl who just got kissed for the first time.

“I didn’t mean to go as hard as I did.” He muttered out. You chuckled.

“I didn’t peg you as the type to be gentle. Unfortunately for you, I haven’t had the pleasure to figure that out.” With a smirk still on your face Logan swiftly throws you over his shoulder and starts walking down the hall. You wince as your fresh wound gets tugged distracting you from the fact that you’re going opposite of the med bay. Once you pass your room you finally noticed this not so fun fact.

“Hey, the med bay is the other way big guy. I kinda need to be stitched up here.” You say as a nervous chuckle escapes.

“I’ll stitch you up myself. I don’t need the professor all up my ass about it.” He doesn’t even look at you, just keeps walking. You hold in the laugh you so desperately want to let out because you don’t want to fuck this up. This is the nicest he has ever been. That’s right, that’s the end of that sentence with no buts! Except his actual ass being right in your view and if you could add you’d love to be all up in it.

Finally making it to his room he gently sits you on his bed. Turning around without saying a word he digs in his desk pulling out a fairly impressive med kit. Not one of those small ones no, no, like an actual emergency med bag. Your jaw dropped a little and he chuckled. Dropping it on the bed beside you he lifts your chin making you look up at him.

“You gotta take your suit off and lay down so I can stitch you up.” He said pointing to the clean plaid sheets. Looking where he pointed you chuckled.

“Well that’s a bit forward.” He rolled his eyes but this time he had a smile? “Wow I finally made you almost laugh!”

“Shut up and lay down already. I’m getting impatient.” Logan said it as harshly as he could but it came out more light than originally intended.

“Fine but turn around. You’re not getting a free show.” You wink as you give your finger a twirl. Sighing and softly shaking his head he turns around. Taking a moment to scan over his juicy toned muscular ass you then move on to actually do what you had him turn around for. Taking your top off you cup your chest and lay down.

“Alright bubble butt, I’m all yours.” Looking over your shoulder you see him turning around with an eyebrow raised until he finally sees you. His silent judgement turned into something darker. He collects himself and walks over to the bag once again shaking his head.

“Don’t stare at my ass, and definitely don’t make comments about it.” He says firmly, but you can tell he’s not being stern.

“Oh come on, it was right in front of my face! Plus, your hips sway slightly when you walk so it looked extra good-“ a loud whine stopped your sentence short when a sharp needle entered your back.

“A warning next time would be delightful!” You say sarcastically jaw clenched.

“I warned you not to talk about my ass.” That’s all he has to say?

“And once again, your ass was in my face! What else am I supposed to talk about? That’s a hypothetical by the way, it will always be about your ass.” At this point the adrenaline makes the pain in your back go numb. Fortunately, feeling his warm hand on your back kneading the needle through your skin has your panties wet. Luckily he’s fast with his needle work because two minutes later he’s done.

“Alright you’re all fixed up now.” He stands from the bed returning the supplies to his bag.

“Really?” You could have sworn that cut was huge. “Well I guess I’ll get dressed then.”

“Did you need me to turn around or are you going to finally act like I’ve seen tits before? That’s a hypothetical of course.” Mocking you with a cheeky smirk and one brow raised he tosses the med bag off the bed and onto the floor. Arms crossed he stares down at you still lying on the bed.

“Is that your way of asking to see my tits? I’d love to test and see if you’re as harsh in bed as you are during training.” Turning around still holding your chest you give your shoulders a slight shrug. “What’s it gonna be Logan? Hate sex or awkward eye contact in the hallway?”

As quick as he is in training, he’s now right in front of you, your jaw gripped by his hand. He leans down getting right in your face. You can feel his warmth radiating from his skin, it made you shiver.

“Don’t get all shy now,” He mocked. “I don’t hate you.” He looks you up and down scanning every inch of your body, unclothed and clothed. “I will fuck you though.”

“I didn’t think that’d actually work but show me what you got baby!” You say hands falling from your chest and pulling his jaw into a kiss. He kisses you back grabbing your side slowly moving to kneel on the bed. Lowering into the bed you’re now lying down. The pressure not the best feeling on your back you let out a quiet hiss.

“What’s the matter? Is it your back?” He asked gently leaning your back off the bed relieving the pain shooting though out you.

“Yeah, usually I wouldn’t mind missionary but I think your love swipe is begging for us to do something kinkier.” You say winking. Before he can say a word you hook your legs around his waist using your momentum to flip him under you on to the bed. Kissing the shock off his face he pulls back suddenly.

“Who taught you that?” He questioned, jealousy slightly peaking through.

“That’s a personal trick. Consider it a mini lesson of my own to you.” You leave a little boop to his nose finding his lips again before he could ask any more questions. Starting to grind down on him, he grabs your hips rolling them at a slower pace. It was deeper though, way harder. Slow hard and precise. You didn’t stop the moan that fell into his mouth. Groaning in response he squeezed your hips even tighter causing you to pull back. Arching your back while dry humping him you let out a breathy moan. Reaching up you grab your tits rolling your nipples in between your fingers. Still guiding your hips a low rumble growls from Logan’s throat as his head rolled back. A pretty erotic site.

“You’re killing me here bub.” He groaned out as he sat up meeting face to face. He starts kissing your jaw moving down to your pressure point playfully nibbling. You moan embarrassingly loud, you could feel his grin against your neck. That made you want to stroke your ego a bit. Pulling his head back by the roots of his hair you grind down extra hard feeling his hip buck to meet yours. You quietly laugh and push him back down. Crawling up an inch or two to give him one more sloppy kiss before sitting back up.

“Don’t worry baby you don’t have to wait for this pretty pussy any longer.” You’re unbuckling his belt and pulling his boxers down to remove his- holy shit huge cock.

“Damn Logan! They weren’t lying when they said you were huge down unda!” You turn to wink to the fourth wall.

“Usually that would kill the mood but you’re really fucking hot.” He pants out “Now back to what you were doing.” He pulls his pants further down his hips and you begin to stroke him.

Eventually getting to impatient you say fuck it and decide to take him all in one go. Loudly he groans, his eyes meet yours, his pupils fully blown out. At the sight you couldn’t help but start bouncing on his cock. Letting go of your hips he lets you set the pace. Grinding down you curve your hips so he could run against your walls deliciously rough. Getting slightly cock drunk after just a few strides your pace begins to increase wanting more of that feeling. Growing desperate you let out a whimpering moan. Hands falling from your chest to Logan’s chest.

“Logan, please.” You beg desperately. Still riding him you plead with him. You looked so pitiful, he couldn’t help the way his twitched hard deep in you. You’re so fucking beautiful.

“What do you want baby? Use your words.”

“I want you to fuck me.” You whine out, you want him to take control and fuck the shit out of you. “Fuck me so hard I won’t be able to walk tomorrow!” You moan out loudly as he bucks his hips up suddenly. Grabbing your hand he intertwines with your fingers squeezing hard and steadying you. Bucking up into you fast he doesn’t feel he is deep enough.

Moving to grab you by your waist he flips you onto your knees face being pushed into his pillows. Drool starts to pool in your mouth form being engulfed by the scent of his sheets. He pushes himself back in quickly making you moan out his name.

“This better princess?” He said with a big smirk “I only want to hear my name come out your mouth. Got it?”

“Yes, daddy!” You were half joking about that nickname. Good thing you felt his cock twitch before you let out that nervous laugh bubbling up your throat.

“Fuck me.” He moans out.

“No fuck me-“ cut off once again by his cock pounding into you. Grabbing at the sheets you could feel his hands move from your hips to rest on either side of your head. Hitting even deeper inside you he then grabs your throat with one hand making you sit up on your hands and knees. Still fucking into you he pulls you all the way up to his chest, grabbing his arm for support you feel him tighten his grip on your neck. This euphoria wasn’t going to last much longer because you were gonna cum hard.

“Logan- I’m gonna cum!” You could barely speak between your pants and erotic moans.

“Cum on my cock princess.” His other hand finds your clit rubbing it at the same pace his cock is pounding inside of you. Letting out a loud moan you could feel the warmth building fast.

“Want me to cum inside you? I want to cum with you.” Panting to the pace of his hips he continues “Fill you up like the slut you are.” He growls into your ear. His voice full of lust and desperation.

“Fill me up baby!” You laugh out in between moans. He groans as he feels your walls spasm around him. You feel bliss and see black speckles fill your vision as your cum dribbles down his cock. Reaching back your hands find his hair and dig hard into his scalp. The pain causes Logan to fall over the edge and cum hard deep inside you.

“Oh fuck, can’t stop!” He practically whined out still fucking into you chasing his high. Still rubbing your clit you start to whine out from over stimulation. Before he can stop himself from rutting into you anymore you come again. Almost screaming out a moan you dig your nails into his shoulders. You feel so fucking warm, soaking wet and tight. Logan can’t pull himself away from you. You feel to good.

“Logan, you horny bitch!” Smirking while grinding back into him you slow his pace down. Moving his hand away from your clit his hands find the inner parts of your thigh. Picking you up slightly to meet his hips even closer than before he groans into the side of your neck. You start to feel the familiar cold metal of his claws poking into your thighs.

“Feel good pretty boy?” You turn towards his face and move one of your hands to his jaw. Before he could answer you start to make out with him while still grinding into him harder. Logan moans into your mouth before pulling away. Finally stopping with his cock still hard inside you he sighs into your shoulder kissing you.

“Feel real fucking good.” Starting to leave a hickey right behind your ear you begin to pull away.

“You trying to go another round or do you need more time to recover hot stuff? I don’t want to hurt that metal hip you know how to move just right.” Squeezing his sides you can feel his abs move under your hands. You moan quietly moving your hands down to his v line. Eventually making your way to his ass giving it a firm squeeze. Turning your head at the same time you find the side of his neck biting down a little rough on the lobe of his ear.

He growls out and you can feel his claws start to push against the flesh of your thighs. Retracting them he pulls out and flips you around sitting you up on your knees facing him on the edge of the bed.

“Bend down and suck my dick loud mouth.” Grabbing you by the base of your hair you slowly started crawling down onto your hands and knees. Ass arched in the air you find the tip of his cock in your face. Pre cum falling from his pinkish tip. You lick your lips looking up at him.

“It’d be my pleasure.” Not getting a chance to say anything else he starts fucking into your mouth. Breathing through your nose you start to lick against his length going opposite of his thrusts. Loud squelching filled the room. It was absolutely filthy, but so fucking HOT! You moaned into his cock, the vibrations sending a shiver through him. Moaning loud he starts going faster. Tears start to roll down your cheeks and you feel nothing but pure pleasure.

“I’m gonna cum soon. Keep sucking baby.” His eyes are shut tightly and you decide then you want to see him totally fucked out. Sucking extra hard and messy you lock eyes with him when he looks down at you. Moaning loudly he starts to pant.

“Good girl! Fuck you’re really good! Don’t stop!” Using both hands he starts pushing your head down faster and way deeper. His dick was starting to go down your throat. Deep throating him you hold yourself down on his cock moaning out his name. Barely audible for obvious reasons, he pulled you off his cock.

“What’s my name princess?” He smirks holding the base of his cock in his other hand.

“Logan!” Sounding hoarse considering this is the first time you could breathe in the last 5 minutes.

“But I prefer wolf daddy!” Always gotta keep the mood light! Gently slapping you on your cheek he pushes your head all the way down his cock. Gagging from the sudden intrusion you quickly begin to suck on him again.

Logan’s hips bucked into your mouth over and over while his balls slapped against your chin. Slobber running down your chin reaching your throat dribbling all over his balls and down his pelvis. His pubes leading to a happy trail is all you can focus on for the moment. Some of your juice still glistening on his mound. You moan against his dick again finally pushing him over causing him to grip your hair tight. Swallowing every last drop he has to give you. A low hum comes from you as the veins on his chest pop out from the pleasure. God this man was fucking hot. Rock hard abs, a sweat glistened chest with the sexiest chest hair, his perfectly cut arms and beautifully sculpted legs. The full package. And god knows you LOVE his package.

Popping off his cock once he was down you swallow the rest of his cum in your mouth. Licking your lips you sit up meeting his lips so he could taste himself on your tongue. One passionate steamy kiss later you pull back running a hand through his hair down to his cheek.

“I’m surprised you can use that mouth for more than just shit talk.” He chuckles kissing you quickly on the cheek.

“You always have to be able to ride the cock if you’re gonna talk the talk. Is that how that saying goes?” Tilting your head he puts his hand over your mouth.

“Enough of that.” Shaking his head he leaves you on the bed going to his closet. He pulls out a new pair of boxers pulling them on and then grabbing a pair for you. Moving over he grabs a wife beater for himself and an over sized flannel for you. Walking back over he sets your clothes on the bed.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Pointing to your cunt that’s still dripping his cum. “It’s not very gentlemanly to leave a mess.”

Kneeling down he sits between your legs. Without saying a word he starts licking between your folds lapping up all the cum in its wake. Rolling your head back you fall back on to your elbows. Moaning out his name his tongue dives into your hole making your flinch. Hand instinctively finding his hair pulling a little. Finding your eyes he starts to suck on your clit. Flicking his tongue fast up and down, then swirling around you he moans. The noise mixed with being over stimulated already had you cumming again but this time into his mouth.

“God Logan don’t stop!” Riding against his face you stop a minute later once your high has passed. With a groan you fall limp against his sheets. Not even caring about the slight ache that goes through your back.

“I finally got you to shut up.” And without saying a word you’re already out cold. Getting a cloth he washes you up and dresses you in his clothes. I guess he didn’t mind spending the night with you in his bed. You were surprisingly cute when you slept snoring softly and cuddled all into his side. You were warm and soft too. Logan can learn to like this quiet side of you.

I hope you guys enjoyed this one, I haven’t posted for a while so it’s hard not to second guess myself. Let me know if you want anymore Wolverine and possibly even Deadpool content?

[professorcalculusstanaccount]

“Robbie is gone! I’m still here! And I refuse to live in his shadow!”

Rastapopoulos himself may be out of the picture, but his ghost continues to haunt those who were caught in his web.

A collaboration with @aboardthescheherazade using her OC Marlene Katz - an actress Tintin tries to save in Cigars of the Pharaoh!

Five years later and Tintin is baffled to see Hollywood starlet Marlene Katz turn up at his doorstep asking for help. Formerly under the thumb of Cosmos Pictures, Marlene became an unsuspecting witness to Rastapopoulos’ criminal activity and now the mob is after her, seeking to tie up some loose ends. To top things off, she is due to make a public appearance at The Golden Palm, a prestigious film festival. After years of hiding, Marlene is determined to get her acting career back on track, and this film may be her big break.

Tintin is highly suspicious. Chang, on the other hand, is utterly star struck, and after noticing an uncanny resemblance between the two hatches a ridiculous scheme that may finally put an end to this particular problem. It might just work, but Marlene makes the last minute decision to also go undercover, feeling immense guilt over having Tintin and Chang risk their lives for her.

While Tintin is running around in heels and beating up mobsters Haddock is away on a weekend break with Ramo Nash. Before leaving he asked Chang to keep Tintin away from any incidents and to promise not to throw any house parties.

This was my first collab on this blog and I had a lot of fun bouncing ideas off with Vaye. Her blog was one of the first Tintin blogs I followed - definitely check it out, it’s an absolute treasure trove of resources and research! Below are a few notes of stuff we discussed while making this:

- After the Blue Lotus, Marlene breaks away from Rastapopoulos and pulls back from the film industry to lay low, teaching dance classes instead. He keeps trying to come back to her, leaving her exhausted and paranoid. Since Rastapopoulos always considered Marlene to be pretty stupid he never made much of an effort to properly hide his criminal activities from her, but Marlene was able to slowly piece things together...

- This adventure takes place after St. Benezet’s Basement (the boarding school story) and before Call of the Songbird (Tintin Fucks Up and Steals A Whistle). Tintin is still in the grips of trauma from the canon stories. Chang is starting to settle in. Haddock and Nash’s relationship is in full swing, but they are keeping things quiet from everyone else. 

- In some sketchbook comics I did to flesh out ideas there’s hints of Tintin being gay and asexual, his complete lack of interest in Hollywood actresses and his mild irritation of people’s judgements being clouded by crushes! Chang’s attraction to Marlene however, foreshadows his feelings for Tintin later on down the line.

- There’s a role reversal theme going on here. Both Tintin and Marlene are victims of Rastapopoulos but in very different ways. By playing each others’ roles they both can get a clearer picture of how Rastapopoulos hurt people, and therefore a better understanding of their own traumas. Tintin is usually spontaneous and rarely makes himself known, but here he is playing a set character. Marlene as an actress, on the other hand, is used to receiving direction from others, but circumstance pushes her to improvise. I can imagine her using her skills as an actor to get into character as an ace reporter to fake some much needed bravery!

- Marlene’s disguise is literally just stuff she pulls from Tintin’s and Chang’s closets. She’s wearing Tintin’s trenchcoat, dress shirt and suspenders and Chang’s spectator shoes, trousers and scarf!

- Marlene is a very skittish person but will be compelled to do what she believes is the right thing. As Vaye put it, “Marlene’s bravery under fire is that she’s like the one person in a room who’s willing to get a spider outside...” Marlene is also older than Tintin and pretty much views him as a child, even though he’s in his early 20s at this point. She feels incredibly guilty about what Rastapopoulos did to him and the fact he’s risking his life for her. She feels some level of responsibility for him.

This all started because I thought it would be cool for Tintin to beat some guys up in drag

[crushmeeren]

♡ Master List Link

☽ Bokuto / Fem Reader

⇢ Everyone involved in this fic is aged up/18+;

⇢ Warnings; oral sex (blow jobs/pussy eating), car sex, riding, small amount of anal play, mating press, kissing, praising

Koutarou who is the sweetest man alive. Who you’re unconditionally in love with, but…is an airhead. I.e., he loses his phone all the time and often forgets plans he’s already made. Who somehow drops his wallet down a hole at the top of a parking garage that’s 30 feet deep while planking but miraculously finds it lying on a car below?? Who you’ll always help find his shit either way.

Koutarou who enjoys wearing a variety of colors and whose wardrobe resembles a rainbow. Whose favorite color is baby blue. Who once got his face painted with a rainbow on it at the fair and looked so cute you couldn’t help but blush.

Koutarou who practically vibrates with excitement when he spots you watching his games from the stands. Who smiles so broadly you fear his cheeks may split. Who waves at you in the middle of a play and runs into the net by accident.

Koutarou who turns a sweet shade of pink when you wear his jersey to the game. Who picks you up in a sweaty bear hug and squishes the air out of your lungs after the match is over. Who chatters excitedly in your ear as he carries you a few feet and who only sets you down when Hinata rescues you by reminding him they have to go change.

Koutarou who gets into certain self-deprecating moods sometimes but lets you help him feel better. You let him talk it out and spending as much time with him as he needs. You whisper words of support and encouragement as you poke the dimples on his cheeks, which gets him to giggle and smile almost every time.

Koutarou who likes listening to hip hop, and surprisingly, hair metal. Who loves singing in the car and has an astonishingly beautiful singing voice. You love watching him as he drives. He gets so into the music, wiggling in his seat and singing to you. Who loves Paramore because you showed them to him.

Koutarou who takes up half your bed when he sleeps. Who is so fucking tall and thick. You love it, using him as your own personal blanket. Who does get super sweaty in the middle of the night, which forces you to roll away so you don’t melt to death.

Koutarou who absolutely loves holding your hand. Who laces his warm fingers through yours and tugs you in every direction no matter where you are. Who leans in so close to speak that you can see his snowy eyelashes. Who never fails to make you flush white hot when he looks at you with stars in his eyes.

Koutarou who is always the life of the party. Everyone loves the fucking ace, he just radiates positive and happy energy. Who has people drawn to him as if they’re moths to a flame. Who has a revolving door of people that want to speak with him. You don’t mind, he comes home with you a night either way.

Koutarou who introduces you to Kuroo. Who he has remained friends with after high school. Kuroo is a sly bastard who you’ve grown quite fond of and have become close friends with. You instantly clicked over your combined efforts to tease Bo.

Koutarou who loves taking hot showers with you. Who likes to hug you under the warm spray and allow it to relax both of you. Who talks about his day and asks you about yours. If you end up on your knees sometimes that’s neither here nor there.

Koutarou who is stupid hot when his hair is down. When the soft strands frame his cheeks you can’t help but stare at him until he asks if there’s something on his face. You tell him how amazing he looks, which makes him blush a rosy pink and drag you into his lap to make out.

Koutarou who beams at you when you call him by his last name. Don’t get him wrong, he enjoys when you call him Koutarou, but he can’t help the flash of heat that shoots between his legs when he hears your sweet voice calling him Bo.

Koutarou who loves you so wholeheartedly he may burst at the seams. Who is your best friend. Who you can be completely yourself with and who supports you in everything you do. You know in your bones that he’s your one and only. Who has been secretly planning on proposing to you for awhile and most definitely cries when you say yes.

Koutarou who is buff. Who is a great deal taller than you. Who is packed with muscle and his cock is, to say the least, thick. Who is just the right length that makes you feel as if you could take him multiple times over without hurting.

Koutarou who gets rock hard whenever you kiss his neck. Who gasps, whining and squirming underneath you when you sink your teeth into the muscle covering his pulse point. Who tilts his head to the side and melts when you leave hickies. Who tries his best to cover it up the next day but Miya Atsumu teases him at practice anyways.

Koutarou who only really curses during sex. Who is unable to stop the nasty words from leaving his mouth. You think it’s the biggest turn on when he can’t help but whimper a soft “fuck,” when he gets his dick inside you for the first thrust.

Koutarou who loves when you suck his cock. Who enjoys when you’re on your back and he straddles your chest. Who thrusts into your mouth from above and moans when you grip his ass to help him along. Who braces a hand against the wall, one hand in your hair as he watches his dick shine with your saliva as it repeatedly disappears between your lips.

Koutarou who likes to suffocate between your thighs. Who begs you to sit on his face and who grips your hips and forces you to rub your clit over his tongue. Who covers his finger in your slick and teases your rim until you cry out his name cum on his tongue.

Koutarou who was nervous when you suggested having sex in his car, but now he’s addicted. Who can’t do anything but hold your waist and whimper “yeah just like that pretty girl,” as you hold onto his shoulders. You use your feet and thighs to bounce on his cock in the drivers seat that’s been pushed all the way back.

Koutarou whose toes curl, cock twitching as his eyes either stayed glued to where your pussy sucks him in or the way your tits bounce in his face. You can’t help but tilt your head down to stare just the same.

Koutarou who whines high pitched and moans in your ear when he fucks you in missionary. Who folds you into a mating press and babbles about how good your pussy is. Who shivers as he tries to hold back from cumming too quickly. Who circles your clit and makes you squirt in this position.

Koutarou who sits back on his calves and grips your tits, fucking into you and curling his hips upwards to make you gasp and cry out his name. Who tells you how pretty you look underneath him and how much he loves when you cum on his cock.

Koutarou who almost cums instantly when you praise him for being so good at fucking you.

Koutarou who whispers how much he loves you and flushes pink when he starts to cum. Whose heart thumps wildly in his chest and who buries his face into your neck as he whines and fills you to the brim.

Koutarou who can never resist resting all his weight on you afterwards. Who snakes his arms underneath you and snuggles you tight as you both soak in the post orgasm glow. Who helps you clean up afterwards, and who gets you some water before you both take a nap or go to bed for the night.

[xamaxenta]

Also dont come for me for art advice bc even tho i know the formula and the classics of how to do art

I dont actually follow it much myself bc hehaheheh

Ew

But ive been looking at Ace recently and its helped my work immensely lmaoooooooo even just like the anime screencap hfhdh

God hes ssodso cute

[adventures-in-mangaland]

Another Dead Boy Detectives Fic Rec List

Netflix sucks and I'm sad, but the Dead Boy Detectives fandom continues to be awesome, so here are some more very quick fic recs!*

Tonight's the Night You Fight Your Best Mate's Dad by Opossum_Subatomic

Everyone's Alive College/University 5+1 things fic featuring Charles bringing Edwin coffee and slowburn payneland. Also Family/Wedding Drama involving Everyone Thinks They're Dating so acute is verges on Fake Dating. This author is seriously fantastic, everything they write is gold.

You should also check out Kissing Lessons, which is a high school AU that does what it says on the tin while also giving non-binary Monty and polyamory.

Ornithology by Rosie447

Monty gets a job working at Tragic Mick's. This one's not actually payneland, being gen and Monty-centric. I know, gasp. It's a fantastic and very sweet exploration of Monty discovering his sense of self post canon and works as a great metaphor for recovery from toxic family/relationships. Also, the ex-animal solidarity and bonding with Mick is lovely.

what some circumstance stole by Chrome

The Sandman crossover featuring Edwin and Hob being kidnapped and tortured together. Their friendship is really wholesome with eventual Father Figure and Found Family Feels for the whole agency and background Dreamling.

dandelion wine (life and death in summertime) by world_wanderer

Payneland Right Person Wrong Time AU in which neither of them die but they still meet and become friends. The May/December friendship is sweet but tragic, with a bittersweet ending. Superb.

Mirror Image by Anonymous

Charles' afterlife gets taken over my an evil shape-shifting doppelganger, leaving him with plenty of time to regret never talking to Edwin about his feelings. Angsty but with Feelings Realisation and the Power of Love and Friendship vibes.

my healing needed more than time by babyseraphim

Case fic with de-aged Charles! Baby Charles is precious but be prepared for discussions of childhood trauma/abuse.

The same author has also written I'm So Aces at Babysitting, which is a really cute two-chaptered AU featuring Charles and Edwin babysitting the kid versions of each other, with bonus Crystal and Niko doing the same. It's very wholesome and the author writes little kids really well.

Pouring into me by tragedy_machine

Love me some "Charles wants to date Edwin to figure out his feelings but gets turned down" fic. Feelings are hard, OK?

thank u, next by KiaraSayre

Edwin fucks and Charles seethes. It's very funny and also features some interesting worldbuilding with the Fae.

Like We've Never Known Hurt by dearheartdont

Just cute established relationship PWP and praise kink. So good.

all of these hollows by handwrittenhello

The boys are alive again but sans memories. Can they still find each other and prove their devotion to the Night Nurse?? While also evading heavenly and hellish forces trying to keep them apart??? Very interesting concept executed well.

Suo Gân by emryses

The agency takes on the case of a traumatised Edwardian ghost searching for her missing baby... Read it for Edwin family feels.

Where Primroses Bloom by PantryJesus

Reading aloud as a love language and Watership Down feels. Idk, I'm now convinced that Edwin is kind of rabbit-coded with the whole "if they catch you they'll kill you. But first they must catch you" thing. A lovely well written fic.

I'm so sick of online love by Hse11z5

College/University AU where the boys meet through a dating app. It's cute.

you can have the best of me, baby (and I will give you anything) by aletterinthenameofsanity

Again, it's the Friends with Benefits but with real feelings and mutual pining for me. Now has a Charles PoV companion fic.

True Love's Kiss by Asidian

In which Charles curses himself with a Sleeping Beauty enchantment in order to confirm his feelings for Edwin and Crystal is the real MVP. I love this one because the boys are both SO stupid but in very different in-character ways.

I also recommend Promised, in which they kind of play the Green card angle to keep Edwin out of Hell? Which honestly needs to be more of a trope. And Tight Quarters, starring the boys trapped in a magic circle, leading to Forced Proximity induced Feelings Realization (in more ways than one! 😉).

Something I Can Turn To by DontOffendTheBees

I love some domestic fluff, in this case as an Everyone's Alive/Childhood Friends AU in which the boys are poor but happy living together. I liked how they both survive their respective traumas, but Reality Ensues.

I also recommend Lived My Whole Life Before the First Light for a lovely but melancholy Soulmate AU that goes for the "seeing colours" trope for extra wistful angst.

Dining at the Ritz by TerresDeBrume

Meeting the Parents fic in which Edwin's parents are awful and Charles is Not Having It. This has Everyone Thinks They're Dating and autistic Edwin stimming representation, plus discussions of racism, classism and ableism. The fic is also part of a great Modern AU series in which the boys attended St Hilarion's at the same time and Charles saved Edwin from a non-supernatural but still almost deadly prank. Highly recommended!

The Case of the Couples Retreat by juliasfanart

Listen, I can't get enough of undercover fake dating/relationships at a couples retreat, OK? Some minor angst but overall very cute and fluffy.

acu (aysar cinematic universe) by ObsessedWithFandom

The agency is hired to solve the mystery of Charles' death and bring his killers to justice. I'm genuinely obsessed with this series; I love its OCs and Charles having an exboyfriend gives Edwin a fun crisis. Plus haunting Charles' killers is very satisfying and cathartic. Just imagine they're Netflix execs, y'all.

*Not actually quick, as it turns out. 😅

I love doing these lists because I always think I've only got a few recs and then I look back over my recent bookmarks and I've got a metric ton of great fics to rec. You guys are so talented. ❤️

[gay-dorito-dust]

Jason loves kneeling before you and holding onto your waist as he burrows his face into your stomach, all the while you have your hand buried deep into his hair as they combed their way through, playing with the ends as he childishly groans at you to keep going whilst holding onto your waist tighter.

You were Jason’s safe place, the first and possibly only person who shown him kindness, love and compassion without seeking for something for yourself. Jason oftentimes doesn’t think your real but with the way you felt beneath his scarred and calloused hands, it was more then enough to show him that you were more then real.

His angel, his beloved, his first experience of kindness, his everything, his anchor. You were everything and so much more to Jason that he honesty doesn’t know how he managed to scrap by life without you kissing his wounds as you help patch him up.

Dick loves resting on top of you, and this was more evident when he’s had a rough day and is in need of a bit of comfort, but doesn’t want to bother you in asking for it. So he just wordlessly collapses on top of you and crushing you beneath his weight, intentionally ignoring your complaints as he gets himself comfortable before burrowing his head into your neck as he rants about the awful day he’s had into your ear.

He liked the fact that you listen to him, allowed him the space to speak openly and freely without judgement, even offering up advice when he needed it as you pressed kisses into his head in hopes of soothing his oncoming headache.

Angel kisses as Dick often calls them and will even over exaggerate the day he’s had just to feel your healing kisses against his skin, smiling at the feeling of you beneath him safe and sound, even if he was crushing you but he claims that it was his love for you that was actually crushing you…what a doofus but he’s your doofus and he refuses to let you forget it.

Damian has a sketchbook full of you and his pets doing stupid things.He has sketches of you and Titus taking a nap together, you and Ace cuddling up on the couch together during movie night, and lastly Damian had a sketch of you and Alfred the Cat sunbathing on the steps leading up towards the Wayne manor. They were all too silly and goofy for him but the fact that he felt compelled to draw, and later immortalise these moments into his artwork, said a lot more than he was willing to let on how he felt about you.

He won’t ever admit it but he likes that you’ve developed a deep enough connection with Titus, Ace or Alfred to be able to do these sort of things without them getting agitated or annoyed. His pets mean a lot to him and for you to be accepted by them was enough for Damian to start trusting you more often.

Damian would watch over you as you took a nap in his room despite knowing that nothing will ever get to you here. He won’t allow it. He was an highly trained ruthless assassin for fucks sake and he’d relinquish that title real fast if you were to ever be brought to harm under his watch. Which doesn’t come to pass because if there’s anywhere you could feel the slightest bit safe, it’s the Wayne Manor. It warms Damian’s heart to see that even Titus was overprotective of you too and would often guard you as you slept but laying himself at your feet, staring at the door as though he was waiting for something to try and get to you while he and Damian where here. Damian guessed that the rumour was true that sooner or later the dog would start to act/ look like the owner.

Bruce Wayne -THE BATMAN- loves the sweet kisses that you’d decided to leave on his cheek whenever he has to leave for somewhere important. He considers them his blessings from you and will keep an internal headcount of how many you’ve given him, with the current score being about thirty five to fourth five at the very least. Neither you nor him had a clue when this became a thing but the action of kissing the other’s cheek had quickly became a much loved tradition of yours.

He’d respond to your cheek kisses in kind with his own, which never fails to leave you smiling widely and warm within your chest, as you were left to feel the lingering of his kiss on your cheek for the rest of the day. The action may not look like much to others, but it was enough affirmation for you and Bruce to know that the love you both have for each other was still alive and strong after being together for so long.

He still tries to spoil you by bolting you things but you had to physically prevent him from bringing out his credit card the moment he spots you looking at something for a second too long. You didn’t give a shit about the fact that he was Bruce Wayne the billionaire, you only cared about Bruce Wayne the sweetest yet semi-awkward man you’ve ever met in your life. When he asks you what it is that you wanted from him, you’d reply with, ‘love, affection in any form that you are most comfortable with. I couldn’t care less for materialistic things because a simple touch of a hand or kiss to a cheek would prove priceless in comparison.’ And Bruce had respect your wish ever since…with several gifts bought now and then for special occasions he could surprise you with.

[ccrisntok]

Your Masterminds, Whit Young, and Ace Markey! (mm! whace au)

(Spoilers lol)

what normal fellas ahahahahaha (I have poured my entire soul into these two there is nothing left of me)

A basic summary of their relationship:

Whit has spent like, over a year manipulating Ace into being complacent in his plans. In his own eyes, Ace is a sorta-stupid lacky, who he's constantly love-bombing to keep obedient. Although, he is a bit glad for the company... it was sorta empty when Ace was "dead" and they couldn't really talk. And maybe Ace almost dying from his fake execution was a bit disturbing. But he's sure its nothing! (He fell in love with him like a moron.)

Ace has fully fallen in love with Whit. He's not happy about it, but it happened. As a result, he's basically ruined any semblance of his own morality, just so he doesn't lose Whit, or the affection he knows is mostly performative. He's more than happy to kill his fuck-face classmates, after a... bit of prodding, and honestly, he'd do anything Whit asked at this point, even die. He'll still complain about it, though.

i tried to be as original as humanly possible, but I'm def giving credit to @talkativeanonymous, @acethehorseishere, and @a-blog-for-kat all for inspiring these two in one way or another (esp. a-blog-for-kat lol).

anyway there's the art, here's the promised lore. warning for like a million words. I'm serious. It's 1,400 words. you can stop here i don't blame you.

also sorry for the odd looking bullet points, didn't realize you couldn't have gaps lol!

This au operates on a probably un-canon assumption that I pulled out of my ass. That is that Mai Akasaki is both a student in the class of 27, and that she is the "time loop" student. She is usually a part of the killing game, but she isn't this time, for reasons I'll explain in a sec.

This specific loop, Mai is attempting to dissuade the (usual) mastermind from wanting to start a killing game in the first place. That mastermind is Whit Young.

She goes about this by trying to curb Whit's main reason for his descent into despair, his resounding loneliness, by giving him championship. Charles hasn't softened up to the others in any regard yet. But that wasn't the main reason, unbenouced to Mai.

In this loop, and this loop alone, Mai sets Whit and Ace up to be friends. She hopes they can help each other, since they usually end up more or less alone in their school life.

Surprisingly, it works. They get along decently well, although a codependency starts to develop on Ace's side.

Around this time, Whit takes up an internship at XF Future, which Mai doesn't realize. He innocently wants to explore other job options, "Matchmaking" not really being a stable career forever.

Obviously FX Future isn't a normal Tech Company. Whit starts to change, in a barely noticeable fashion, the longer he works there.

Ace notices Whit's contacts start looking a lot more vibrant after Whit takes a couple weeks off school for a "company trip." He thinks it's... sort of pretty.

(Whit's time at XF Future showed him a side of humanity he didn't realize existed. Insane levels of greed, using the concepts of "ultimates" to guide a stupid pubic where the Government wanted them, generally a dystopia. It feeds into his existing detachment from humanity, until he hits a breaking point, setting his sights on ending the "Ultimates" concept by killing the newest class in the public eye, including himself.)

(XF Future develops a new sort of technology, prosthetic "eyes" that basically turn you into a living remote control, able to connect to an entire building if its connected via a computer system. Security cameras, doors, fucking air conditioning- everything.

(Whit offers himself as the test dummy, and it goes perfectly.)

Anyway, Mai decides to talk to Ace, since she's starting to realize he's becoming a bit... softer after hanging out with Whit so much? And hopes like, for once, he'll actually accept help for his mountain of problems.

He doesn't take this conversation very well.

Mai, with knowledge from dozens of loops, accidentally brings up an extremely traumatic event, simply mentioning the name "Tyler" once.

In a blinding mix of rage and horror at Mai's knowledge of the event, that Ace has literally never even spoken about in this timeline, Ace shoves her away from him.

She falls backwards, and splits her head on a desk, killing her instantly.

Ace, in a horrified frenzy, calls Whit, literally his only friend.

Whit shows up. Ace expects him to freak the fuck out, call the cops, or something like that... But he doesn't.

Whit simply tells him they were going to hide the body together, not even remotely caring about Mai's death.

yeah that's a little fucking weird, and its terrifying, but going to jail is scarier sooo Ace goes along with it!

After this, Whit wraps Ace into uncharacteristically cruel pranks against some of their classmates and others at Hopes Peak, oftentimes resulting in physical injury.

He acts like these are completely normal and funny, while Ace is both freaked out by it, and sort of enjoys enacting pain on people he didn't like.

Along the way, Whit notices Ace starting to fall for him. Horrible news for Ace, since Whit plays into those emotions by becoming much more physically and emotionally affectionate. Which he doesn't enjoy, like, at all... not a bit...

Whit convinces Ace to assist him in greater and greater acts of violence until Whit just straight up kills someone (not a classmate, a stranger.)

Ace is of course tied into everything way too deep to stop now, and after all this... he doesn't really want to. So he stays as Whit's accomplice for months, up until Whit's weirdo behavior arrives at the idea of the killing game. He references the "First Killing Game", which Ace had never heard of.

The idea is a bit intense for Ace, but at that point, he didn't have anything beyond Whit. If it took this to stay with him... He'd do it. Even if in the end, they both were going to die.

So they get to work!

Ace had been taking engineering classes at Hope's Peak in hopes of getting out of jockeying, and he'd helped his family build sheds and shit since he was a kid, so he focused on the construction and executions.

Whit wired the building an all-encompassing computer system he could control, as well as stealing "Mono-TV" from XF Future, a robot he can fully control to be the "host" of the game.

He also steals the "mind wiping" technology from XF Future. It's weirdly easy to steal stuff from this company, hm? It's almost like they aren't protecting it...

Whit also uses another piece of experimental biological technology... on Ace.

A screen connected to his brain, a lottt less invasive than Whit's eye surgery. It doesn't impact Ace mentally, it just gives him the ability to produce visible projections for easy construction, communicate with Whit remotely, (and give Whit a way to always know what Ace's condition.)

The screen is unclipped when the game starts, but the brain implant is still connected to Whit, so he can detect Ace's condition.

After kidnapping the class of 27 and wiping their memories... It all starts. A killing game, streamed live to the entire nation.

Whit and Ace start off as a part of the class, interacting with the others like normal, a pretty decent show. Things go roughly as planned, putting everyone in the positions Whit wanted them. Untilll... chapter 2.

Ace gets his ass jumped, and almost dies prematurely. This is fine, Whit privately makes sure the wounds properly cleaned, but it does fill Whit with an... ominous feeling.

Ace still kills Arei, a part of the plan, and gets "executed", so he can more easily upkeep the executions and such behind the scenes.

After the screen playing the fake execution turns off, Whit checks to make sure Ace didn't get injured in his running around... but can't detect anything.

At all.

Ace's heart wasn't beating.

He actually, seriously, had a fucking heart attack.

(Ace's heart attack was for a combination of reasons. Firstly, his heart was actually in pretty bad condition as a result of his eating disorder, something Whit had figured was "over" by now. It wasn't!)

(Second, in that moment, the idea that maybe, just maybe, Whit could have been double-crossing him came to Ace. What if Whit loaded the guns? What if Ace's use was done, and Whit was finally getting rid of him? It was terrifying because he could die, and terrifying because... It'd make sense. It was all that ever happened to him.)

So he had a heart attackkk lameeeeee

This makes Whit tweak the fuck out, internally. (lol pretend his spooky ass sprite happens AFTER the execution, not before. shh its all made up its all pretend)

After Levi gets taken to the infirmary, Whit drops Charles off at his room as quickly as he can, then fucking BOLTS IT to a hidden passageway in his room to the like... Mastermind area, with the execution chamber.

Whit manages to resuscitate Ace in time, barely. And even after that, he's in pretty bad condition. But he's conscious and mobile.

Whit gets him as comfortable as he can, and after spending the night, he sort of... has to leave. He does some tweaks to Ace's brain screen thing, creating a functional heart monitor that Ace (and he) can watch.

As often as he can, Whit sneaks off to the Mastermind area at night to make sure Ace doesn't fucking die in his sleep. But Ace gets... decently better quickly, and returns to his duties overseeing the killing game.

Whit still visits almost every night to make sure Ace wakes up, which he can't really explain to himself. Ace was... supposed to be disposable anyway. Why would it matter if he died?

Anyway yeah the rest of the game happens. No clue there.

In the end, Whit and Ace come out as masterminds (happy pride).

I have a comic planned for how the end goes, soooo... that's it!

holy fuck! my fingers! hi the whole 2 people who made it down this far... uh... did you like my lore.....? do you want me dead now for having you read 1,400 words of two evil homsexuals...? 😅 love you thank you im sorry.

[shuastar]

ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴛᴡɪɴᴇᴅ -- ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ (pt 2) (JWW)

ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴛᴡɪɴᴇᴅ -- ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ᴡɪɴᴛᴇʀ ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟ

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴀʀᴄʜᴅᴜᴋᴇ!ᴡᴏɴᴡᴏᴏ x ᴀʀᴄʜᴅᴜᴄʜᴇꜱꜱ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴡᴄ: 8.2 k (consistency is key??) warnings: none for now?? hot wonwoo, lowkey obsessed wonwoo, theres like a part where he's like "oh i couldn't control myself" but it's not like a sexual predator sorta way i promise, joshua featuring!! ᴀ/ɴ: i told myself i would post this before the la concert BUT i got too distracted buying a clear fucking bag from target bc i didnt know you had to bring a clear bag to us concerts??? bc ive only gone to korea concerts??? anyways, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴɴᴀ ʙᴇ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ ᴘʟꜱ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ᴀᴛ ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ <3 OH also if you're confused by the (y/n) (wonwoo) parts it's like the perspective thing (the perspectives switch bc i got boredd writing only y/n pov sorry!!)

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ; ɴᴇxᴛ

y/n

“Your grace.” 

A silver fine-toothed comb gently brushed through your morning hair, untangling your curled knots. The winter air chilled the room and the hazy morning sunlight shined through the sheer curtains. 

You hummed in acknowledgement. 

Nai continued with her rhythmic brushing, slowly adding oils and perfumes to the ends of your hair. “I do not understand these rumors as of late, your grace,” Nai huffed, setting the comb down on the vanity desk with a little more force than necessary. 

You let out a breathy laugh, slowly running your fingers through your silken hair. “I do not think rumors exist to be understood, Nai.” 

Nai crosses her arms, the space between her eyebrows creasing. “But your grace! These rumors are absolutely outlandish! You! Infertile! I just cannot even begin to wrap my head-”

At her words, you notice a new cream-colored envelope sitting on the edge of the vanity. “-then don’t, Nai.” You look up at her. Her brown ringlets sit neatly against her shoulders and her wide hazel eyes are full of pure exasperation. It feels good, you think, to have someone care this much. It’s been a while. 

“You don’t have to understand anything for me. Rumors will remain rumors,” you hum, reaching for the envelope. 

Nai huffs in annoyance. You know it isn’t directed at you, but it still makes you smile nonetheless. Seungcheol might have been ruining your Society life, but at least he hired a maid right. Speaking of which, as your eyes glided through the contents of the palace-stamped envelope, it focused on the beginning: 

My darling archduchess y/n, 

I hope the duchy is prospering after my small present for your twenty third birthday. Speaking of, I have scheduled a tea for you in two days with Baron-

Again. Fucking again with the stupid engagement offers. If Seungcheol wasn’t the king, you would have already slapped him twice. He had always been somewhat of a parent figure in your life, especially after your grandmother’s death. But this? This was dangerously toeing the line of overstepping your boundaries. Actually, maybe the boundaries had been overstepped at your fifth engagement that ended with yet another cheating scandal. At this point, Prince Mingyu was right – how did Seungcheol even manage to conjure only cheating scandals for your shame to marinate in? 

“Whose ball are we attending tonight, Nai?” 

Nai tries to speak around the pearl bobby pin in her mouth. “Uck gong, er ace,” she starts, before she shakes her head. The bobby pin slides into your hair. “My apologies, your grace. Duke Hong’s winter season opening ball.” 

You hum, toying with the edges of the envelope. If it wasn’t considered palace property, you would have burned it. God. Seungcheol was really teething at your fraying nerves. There’s only a certain number of engagements a Society woman can go through before she is considered unmarriable. You were way past that point. 

If the king himself was not backing you, you would have already been the Society’s laughing stock. Because what failure of a woman cannot keep a man to herself for more than a couple of measly weeks?

At this point, you might as well just live and die alone. 

Duke Hong’s winter season opening ball. You wouldn’t have agreed to attend if it was hosted by anyone else. Duke Hong happened to be your fellow library attendant during your formative years at the National Academy. Really, it was a pity you could not just conjure up a lie and stay back in the safety of your room. You would, except you had a sinking feeling Joshua would send you letter after annoying letter until you finally decided to let up and attend. 

You don’t think you are fully ready for the full impact of the Society nobles just yet. To make matters worse, Nai had told you that she heard the people were giddy about the return of the Jeon Duchy to the capitol after the death of the previous heads of the house, and the return of the direct line, now the archduke, after his series of triumphant wins on the frontiers of the warring enemy country. The Society, you told yourself, was what you were afraid of. But a tiny (not so secret) part of you was not fully ready to see him again just yet.

The stuffy crowded ballroom seemed even more overpopulated under the yellow chandelier lights and the exponentially building pressure inside your chest. And Joshua’s estate’s not-so-hidden balcony did not give you enough coverage in the darkening night. If Joshua had not proposed for you to stay the night (“You should not be out after dark, y/n. Even if you have the best footmen in the world,” were his words), you would have retired to your own estate an hour ago. Actually, if Joshua had not been so adamant about your attending, you would have never left your estate in the first place.

But you could never say no to his face, especially when he pulled his little pout and sigh of faux disappointment that had followed him even out of the Academy.

There was a not-so-secret side of you that wanted to pull your hair out by the roots. The whispers, the gossips, the mumblings, the laughter that follows you wherever you go, you could do. You could live with it. You could do with it because that was what you had lived with for three years. Three miserable years of back-to-back engagements with all of High Society’s eligible men, hand-picked by the dear, beloved king. And no, of course, Seungcheol was not to carry the entire burden of blame. You blamed every single elder in your family and the royal courts. Every male figure in your life expects you to marry some rich, handsome man. If he knew how to dance, drink, breathe, and hold some semblance of self respect, he was eligible in their eyes. Even if, in the dark cover of night, they leave their homes and sneak onto the back alleyways of carnal desire. 

Each season of Society that passes by you is another couple of months in which your vain, naive, wishful childhood dream of wanting to marry for love!! could not come true. In some ways, it was because you fully believe that love has its time (and your time had passed away three years ago), but also because sometimes, you had learned to give up things you innately wanted for something that would benefit you a little more in the future. Something that would cause you less pain. Something that could slowly become something you love.

You feel the built-up tears fill your eyes, champagne flute resting loosely between your gloved fingers. For a moment, you wish your grandmother was back with you. She would know what to do, what to say, what to choose. You wish she could have been there, three years ago, when you tried desperately to balance the exhausting, choking, mountains of pressure of an archduchess and a fragmented heart, which slowly shattered into unmendable glass pieces. You wish she could have pulled Wonwoo aside then and told him how you had suffered, maybe bring up even a smidge of guilt, worry, regret, something. 

But that’s all wishful thinking, y/n, you chide yourself. Let it go, like you have done for the past three years. 

But he wasn’t here during the three years, you wish you could argue. You wish you could hope for something and follow the tugs of your heart, but there is a shallow part of your mind that tells you no. Because the first time ended in shambles. Made you the laughing stock for two whole seasons. Kick-started your rather permanent fixture in the Society’s rumor mills. And just as you thought you had figured everything out, he comes waltzing back into your life – as part of the same royal council – like he had never left. And that in itself left a gaping, bubbling hole of rage in your heart. 

The thin wooden door and curtain that separates you from the rest of the dancing ballroom flutters with the breeze. Your head pounds along with the bass of the cello inside – not too sure if it was caused by the champagne flute in your gloved hand or the incessant whispers that had followed your footsteps inside. 

“Why did you have to come back,” you mutter bitterly, gazing up at the darkened night sky. A disbelieving laugh and a shake of your head. “Stop thinking about-”

 You cut yourself off when the balcony door suddenly creaks open. You turn with half a mind to tell off whoever was bold enough to interrupt your obvious solitude. However, that train of thought very quickly comes to an end when you look back over your shoulder. The face you see almost makes you want to let out a laugh. 

The very man you were ranting to yourself about stands in the curtained doorway. You hate that you can’t see his eyes behind his glasses in this light. 

You open your mouth, nose scrunching in annoyance, about to say something along the lines of why the fuck are you here or do you find pleasure in giving me pain or can you leave, before the clouds move from the moon and you actually take him in. And not just take him in but take him in. 

Wonwoo is standing there, chest rising and falling like he had just raced to the ball on his horse or had run around the entire Hong Estate trying to find something. Now, in the soft rays of the moonlight and the biting early-winter breeze, you can see his dark eyes behind his glasses – guarded. But as you study his (rather chiseled) face, he’s changed somehow. Your last memories of a twenty-one-year-old Wonwoo do not show the sharp intense prick of his gaze as it holds your own. You don’t remember it holding the same sort of pain and weight – like he was Atlas, holding the weight of the world on his broad shoulders. 

Handsome, you think. But it’s gone before you can put a finger on it to hold it down long enough to fully think about it. You can’t really describe Wonwoo in words. That was something you had decided a long time ago. 

He was handsome in the old-fashioned sense. A straight nose, dark almond eyes, the slightest permanent downturn of his lips. His defined jawline and his glasses that he had grown into. He was handsome in the most eligible bachelor sense. If your mother was still alive, she would have wanted you to be courted by him – no one less and no one more because there was no one more. And perhaps that was why you had been so over-the-top with him before: he was everything your mom would have adored – tall, pale, smart, handsome, built. 

You steel yourself, letting a soft breath escape you before you say, “Your grace,” the title sounds oddly cold now coming from your parted lips, “this is hardly the place for a welcomed noble.” You hate how your voice trembles ever so slightly at the end. Perhaps you had not been as ready for this as you thought you were.  

Your voice seems to snap Wonwoo back to life. His lips twitch slightly but his expression remains frustratingly unreadable. “Just,” he starts, before his eyes glance at the floor, “I needed a moment,” he finally replies. And this time, his gaze is locked on yours. 

Your throat tightens at his reply. 

If you were nineteen-

No. You were not nineteen or twenty anymore. He had left. 

Like everyone else did.

“So did I.” You take a small step backwards before whispering, “I always do.” 

You think Wonwoo is going to continue the conversation, however strained, but he lets a silence hang in the air. It grows so thick you feel like it steals some of your oxygen away. You wonder if Wonwoo is also thinking about the past – about three years ago, about when you had nothing to worry about but being yourselves and completing school, when you had thought you would not inherit such a pressuring role until you were happily married for love. Like idiots. But even if he isn’t thinking the same thing as you, the silence is almost palpable in the air. Like it is giving room, a lost opportunity back. 

Wonwoo’s eyes linger on you – not just your face but you – like he’s trying to make sense of the very thing you had tried your best to bury deep inside of you. Like he wanted you to either throw it all back up or he wanted to personally haul it to the surface. And you hated how he could make you feel naked, vulnerable, weak and like a naive, stupid child with just one look. 

Finally, he whispers softly, “It’s been a long time, y/n.” 

His voice is deep and not at all how you remembered it from three years ago. It seems different from his soft murmurs you had barely heard during his royal reentry ball. Your pulse jumps traitorously. 

“Not long enough, it seems.” The words are supposed to come out icy, but it doesn’t come out as hard as you had hoped. Instead, your voice has a rather meek tone to it, as if even your vocal chords knew something you refused to admit. 

Wonwoo doesn’t answer. The only indicator that he heard you at all is the brief upward twitch of his eyebrows. 

You’re too proud, you know, to look away first. And you know what that will do. You can already feel the old memories – the ones you had (wished) long buried in the deepest parts of your fragmented heart – creep up: the warmth of the sun on your skin exposed on your sundress as you walked the grassy walkways of the park; the quiet laughs during an royal-sponsored opera; the knowing glances exchanged during another one of Mingyu’s complaints about a possible partner. 

A burst of sudden loud laughter and chatter from below the balcony makes you whip around in a speed your grandmother would have called “excruciatingly unladylike,” and catch the tip of your heel in the grooves of the marble flooring. You have one second to register Wonwoo’s eyes widening and another second that is wasted on trying to save your champagne flute, before your palms are flat against Wonwoo’s defined chest. Your shattered champagne flute glints against the thin moonlight, forgotten at the sudden intrusion of your privacy – a sudden casualty of his presence. 

His hands are barely there on your waist – the only things that are preventing you from falling off the rather low balcony railing are his arms, wrapped around your frame. His face is taut, as if he was actually worried about you falling off, and your corset feels excruciatingly tight around your straining ribs. 

His stare is heavy and it feels like that one time again. Like when he whisked you away for your first dance as a debutante and accidentally dipped you in the middle of your opening waltz and you stayed there until the eye contact became unbearably awkward. He is doing the same thing – mouth just barely open, eyes unblinking and hands fleeting on your waist. 

You can feel his entire chest under the thin fabric of his white button down. You go to push him away but something makes you hesitate. 

You look up at him, breath hitching automatically at the closeness between you two. 

“Wonwoo,” you whisper, fingers digging in just a little bit, “this is…” you trail off, too breathless and gobsmacked at this entire situation to continue. You just hope he is smart enough to fill in the rather obvious blanks. 

You try to shake off the small detail that your eyes keep wandering back to Wonwoo’s arms, straining against his tailored suit. Small military stars adorn his collar, and you briefly wonder if you can blame his new aura of attractive ruggedness on the war and not your own deprived state of imagination. 

You can feel Wonwoo’s grip on your waist tighten, a small crease appearing between his brow. His voice is a low murmur amongst the laughing crowd behind the curtain. 

“Are you alright?” he asks. His breath fans over your lips. His voice is quiet and gentle – too gentle, too familiar. 

You nod. You physically can’t bring yourself to pull away. You know, you know, what this would look like if someone just simply opens the balcony door. But in your proximity, Wonwoo’s cologne of some sort of earthy, gilded scent fills your senses and overwhelms your thoughts.

“Yes,” you manage, although it’s barely audible. “Your grace,” you add, hoping it would force distance, force out proximity. You swallow down the lump in your throat. Your lace-covered fingers pull at your gloves. 

The title stings the tip of your tongue as it leaves. 

The corners of his lips pull down at the utterance of the formal title leaving your lips. His forehead creases as if the formality of your words had disrupted some sort of intercontinental balance in him. “I apologize if I intruded and startled you,” he breathes, almost too quietly. Then, softer, as if he could not help himself, “y/n.” 

Your name flows off of his tongue like a familiar melody – as if he had never gone away. You want to argue that he had no right to say your name – let it roll off his tongue so gently, as if he had caressed every syllable of your name. You want to yell at him to use your title. But you don’t.

Your fingers tighten on the lapels of his coat.

Under his heavy stare, you can’t help but feel seventeen again: waltzing gracefully up and down the gilded ballroom floors of every season’s opening ball; laughing under the Jeon Duchy’s library’s dim chandelier candle-light; walking down the Capitol’s Main Road, disguised as the common people, during the Mid Autumn Festivals. It’s like everything you had ever experienced with the man standing in front of you crashes into your pressured body like a tidal tsunami wave. And it just keeps on coming. Wave after wave of endless memories that you thought you had wrapped and hidden in the deepest parts of your brain, being uprooted from their perfectly comfortable spot and forced back into the main chamber of your heart. 

To make matters worse, Wonwoo just stares. His expression is silent, unreadable. Not a single word leaves his mouth. Nor a noise. He just stares, like he knows what he’s doing. Like he knows exactly what’s going on inside your head. 

It’s as if the entire room – the whole world – comes to a timeless standstill. You can faintly hear the orchestra playing a classical waltz – your favorite – in the ballroom and the taps of heels as the ladies dance the night away. 

It’s as if Wonwoo’s gaze pierces you to your soul. As if he knew exactly how hard your heart was pounding against your rib cage. As if he could hear the stifled pants and gasps of breath you were trying to hide. His face moves ever so slightly closer to yours. Strands of black hair tickle your forehead. 

His glasses slide down slowly from the bridge of his nose. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, voice thick with an emotion you can’t place. Grief? Regret? 

You look up at him at his sudden apology. “For what, your grace?” You stubbornly keep the title. As if it could push you two apart. As if it could mask the thundering pounding of your poor heart. 

For a second, Wonwoo looks almost pained. But it washes over back to his vague expressionless face again. You briefly wonder when his youthful tugs of emotion had disappeared. 

“Everything,” he murmurs, and you feel his hand slowly make its way up – first your waist, shoulders, fingertips brushing against your neck – until his gloved hand cups your jaw, thumb resting lightly against your cheekbone. 

Your eyes widen at his touches. “Won-”

“-y/n.” Wonwoo holds you like you are the only thing keeping him grounded – keeping him from flying away into the dark night sky. You see his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallows, opening his mouth again, and this time, his eyes seem much deeper. A smile – a genuine one, unlike the one from his reentry ball – curves along his lips, dimples forming at the tips. “I missed you.” 

Your entire body stiffens at his three words, and you can feel tears against your waterline. Your mouth falls open in a small ‘o’ and your hands clench tighter against his coat lapel. Your nails dig into the thick fabric. 

Not fair.

Wonwoo looks at you like you just hung up the stars and moon in the twilight expanse. 

“Wonwoo,” you mutter, looking away from his eyes. You’re afraid that if you keep eye contact, he’ll find out what you truly feel – what your walls are hiding. 

“Y/n,” he replies, before his hand gently turns your head. He sounds so confident – as if he could protect you from everything – Society, marriage, whispers, gossip. His touch is so soft, so warm, so familiar that you let yourself be turned. You let his fingertips linger on your jaw, your cheek, thumbing your lips. You let his hair droop down to your forehead. You let his eyes trail down to the necklace that rests on the space between your collarbones and trail lower and lower. You let him do everything for a second. 

And your heart stops. 

Because in the next second, his head dips. His hand on your waist tightens its grip. His thumb caresses your cheek. And his lips are on yours. 

His lips are on yours. 

Eyes closed, Wonwoo presses his lips against yours like they never left. Like his lips alone could mend the gaping hole in your heart. 

And it’s almost as if you have no control of your body because you find yourself melting into his embrace, eyes fluttering shut and hands pulling him a little closer than necessary. 

Soft, is your first thought. 

Wonwoo’s hand suddenly wraps around the back of your neck, tilting your head up to meet his lips in a deeper embrace. He breaks away for the briefest of moments, eyes dark and breath coming out in small pants like yours. You feel like your lungs are on fire. You find your hands buried in his messy black locks. 

“Fuck,” Wonwoo breathes, and you swear he looks a little crazed. Like he had been starved off of something he desperately needed for the longest time. “I missed you so much,” he confesses. 

His words trickle down your throat like agave honey – like sweet distilled liquor. It’s everything you had asked for. 

Except he’s late. Maybe too late? 

But you don’t really have the time to delve into that train of thought before Wonwoo’s lips are on yours again, stealing your words and breath from the confines of your mouth. His tongue swipes testingly against your lips and out of habit, they open the slightest bit. 

Wonwoo’s grip against your neck, your waist, is tight, like he’s afraid you’ll fall out of his arms. Like he’s so afraid of you sinking into the dark. 

And then it’s as if your entire being is suddenly wide awake – out of this weird, hazy, wrong drunken stupor. 

Because at that moment, the balcony door that had once shielded you is thrown open and loud, half-drunken conversations flood both your ears. 

You don’t even have the time to step away from Wonwoo before a scandalized gasp allows itself to pierce and fill the silenced air. 

Lady Lim stands in the doorway, her fan dangling from her hand and another holding a champagne flute. 

Your eyes snap open first. 

Out of pure fight-or-flight, you shove Wonwoo off of you, breaking the kiss immediately. Wonwoo’s eyes are wide in shock, like he did not even expect himself to kiss you. Both of your chests heave (more yours than his), and you can feel your body tremble as adrenaline runs through you. 

“Oh my!” Lady Lim’s shocked voice pierces through the night. “Oh dear, please forgive me,” she stumbles through her words, fan snapping open. You hear the quick snap of another fan unfurling and the hurried click-clack of heeled shoes running the other way. She fans herself with a dramatic flare, though her eyes never leave the scandalous little tableau that she had walked herself into. 

It’s like all blood circulation is cut off from your limbs and any blood circulating in your head rushes to your thudding heart when you finally realize just how close, how unfitting, you and Wonwoo seem. Literally, you can already hear whispers form. And you can already picture it. It’s clear as a spring morning in your head. This scandal will ripple through every single fucking household by tomorrow morning. And if not tomorrow morning, then by afternoon tea. 

“Oh I am terribly sorry,” she starts, and without even a single glance towards her, you know she knows it is you. “So very sorry,” she repeats, though it is obvious her apology is directed more towards the laughable sight of you than the indecent situation itself and the mischievous glint in her eyes tell another story. 

You can physically feel your reputation, your dignity, your name that you had worked up from absolutely nothing shatter on the floor. You can feel your stomach twisting in on itself and every little thing you ate tonight makes its slow way back up your esophagus. Your honor is at stake. And although you had said something about not marrying (ever) and just living your life in your countryside ducal house, at the end of the day, you were nothing without Society. As a woman you were absolutely nothing without Society. But Wonwoo’s grasp of you doesn't seem to falter and your inhales quicken into an almost-desperate gasp of breaths when you start to see a crowd form and whisper.

You blame it on your imagination when you think you feel Wonwoo shift slightly to completely shield you from view. His body is still too close. It’s not what you think it is, you want to scream, but you know that will only worsen the situation. Your brain feels like a ticking bomb and you briefly wonder if Joshua will save you from this situation or if you will need to figure it out yourself. Now, your breaths are clearly audible – almost gasps of oxygen as you try desperately to not cry, scream, and throw up. 

Suddenly, you feel Wonwoo slowly move his hands up towards your shoulder, gently patting it, as if to calm you. It does absolutely jack shit to calm you. You shove his hand off of your skin.

His calm voice cuts through the chatter: “This is not what it appears to be.” 

But those words and his hands only serve to quicken your anxiety-induced breath.

Wonwoo’s been out of Society, not you. You don’t even have the time to think about your shit-show of a reputation, especially now that the entire three quarters of High Society has caught you so precariously positioned. So, you shove Wonwoo off of you with all your strength. It’s not much, but he stumbles backwards, leaving you almost shaking on the small balcony, under the wide-eyed stares and the gossiping lips beneath the fans of the ballroom. If anyone was drunk, they weren’t now. How could they ever miss another one of Duchess Y/n Park’s scandals?

Your mouth went dry. If this was anywhere but your current place, you could have scoffed and then broken down into tears. At least the high heavens are serious about not letting you find a workable marriage. 

Lady Lim slowly disperses back into the crowd, only the curtain closing behind her giddy form, no doubt to tell anyone who did not know the entire story. 

The moment the curtain closes, it’s like your soul returns to your body. You collapse into your skirts, back against the iron railing. Your hands tremble until you dig your nails into your palms. 

“This is the worst fucking thing that could have happen,” you whisper, a horrified look evident in your eyes. You dare to look up at Wonwoo and you feel a tear slip out. “Why would you do that?” Your voice is hoarse, barely audible. The only thing that circles your mind is reputation, reputation, reputation, on and on and on. You try to ignore the way you pulled him close just mere seconds ago. The way you breathily moaned into his lips as well. 

That seems to work on Wonwoo because his expression immediately softens and his eyes fill with what you haphazardly tack as genuine remorse. He reaches out to you, but then hesitates when you flinch ever so slightly. His hands fall to his sides. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, but his fingers gently touch his lips like he can’t believe they were just on yours. “I’ll set it right,” he promises. And maybe it's the steadiness in his voice, but for some reason, a small, naive part believes him for a fleeting moment. 

Until the curtain was strewn open again. 

This time, Duke Hong filled the doorway. 

And it isn’t even a question to anyone who he cares for more because without even a second look at Wonwoo, he runs to your side. 

“y/n.” You allow his warm touch around your shoulders as he hauls you up. He gives you one quick look over and it’s like he knows how the entire situation ran down.

At least, you think bitterly, if I finally get ousted from Society, Joshua will still entertain me. 

“Wait-” Wonwoo starts, his hand going out again, only to be stopped by a withering glare on Joshua’s part. 

His usually warm doe eyes are dreadfully, terrifyingly sharp as they drill into Wonwoo’s. “I think you have done quite enough, your grace,” he forces through clenched teeth. 

Then:

“You’re okay,” he whispers, leading you through the parting of people. A thick fabric is tossed over your shoulders, the hood coming up over your face. It was as if stepping a foot into your space could contaminate them with the Disease of the Scandals. You barely register him gesturing off to the side and saying something before he guides you again, a gentle pat here-and-there on your bare shoulder.

“You’re such a liar,” you mumble, lace gloves going up to dab at your watery eyes.

When did I even start crying?

It does nothing to quell your situation. Instead, your tears run down your cheeks. “Don’t lie to me, Shua.” 

Joshua is quiet as he leads you down a hall and into his personal parlor. When you step into the room, the door shuts. He says nothing as he sits you down on a stuffed recliner and hands you a glass of tea. 

He is quiet until you swallow down your first sip and your tears have mostly stopped. 

He clears his throat as he stands above you, thick arms crossed and his hair falling into his eyes. “What the fuck was that?” His hand rakes through his hair and his sudden emphasis on the curse word makes you jump in your seat. His concerned doe eyes turn to you and he marches over, laying a hand on your shoulder. “Did he touch you?” he asks, eyebrows furrowing together worryingly. “Did he – God forbid – force you into that situation?” His grip on your shoulder tightens as you don’t answer. 

Your cheeks heat up. “No!” you splutter, setting the teacup down. “Oh my god, no! No, no, no, no!” You chant, slapping Joshua’s arm in retaliation. “Why would you– No!” Your fingers went to your temples and your eyes closed. 

“Then what? Did he pull you in and kiss you?” Joshua demands.

You hesitate. “Well…” you trail off, looking down at your skirts. It gives Joshua all the confirmation he needs.

His eyes bug out of their sockets. “He kissed you? Out of absolutely fucking nowhere?” Joshua’s voice raises an entire pitch, ringing through the foyer. 

You wince. “God, can we not talk about what just happened?” You beg, desperation seeping into your voice. “Actually,” you state, pushing Joshua’s hand off your shoulder and standing up, “I’m leaving. No way,” a laugh of pure disbelief escapes you, “absolutely no way I’m staying here.” You turn when Joshua’s voice rings out. 

“Y/n, wait. Are you okay, though?” 

“What?”

Joshua closes the distance between you two, bringing you into a hug. It is so sudden it takes you off guard and your first reaction is to pull away – leave the situation. Like you try to do every time. But Joshua keeps you there, stroking your hair. And it’s like the entire situation feels so much more real. You feel yourself shaking and it doesn’t register to you that you are crying again until Joshua’s murmurs fill your ears. 

“You’re okay. It’s going to be okay. I’ve got you.” Joshua’s whispers, however fake they will be, offer a slant of confidence in your ruined Society life at least for one season. But even his words tremble at the end and you know he’s lying to calm your soul for this fleeting moment. 

“I’m ruined, Shua,” you sob, and your hands grab his coat, tears staining his beige silk shirt. You can’t even begin to think of what would happen tomorrow, the day after, a week after, at the next ball, even. You refuse to admit how much the consequences of tonight scare you. 

Joshua hums into your hair, swaying the two of you slowly. His pats encourage more caged words to tumble out of your mouth as your sobs die down.

A stuttered breath. “I don’t know why this keeps happening to me,” you murmur, your throat hurts from your gasps of breath as you try to maintain some sort of dignity in front of the older man. “I don’t know why- I just keep becoming the, the, the rumor mill of High Society. I don’t know why- – why can’t I just keep to myself?” Your voice cracks at the end as tears fall down your cheeks again, hot and wet against your porcelain blushed cheeks. 

Joshua’s hold tightens at your ending words and he mumbles, “y/n, y/n, this – any of this – was never your fault. Wonwoo should have been more careful. He of all people knows how Society works,” he comforts, pulling away slightly. A sad smile is on his lips when he sees your tear-stricken face, black smudging your waterline. He takes a handkerchief out and dabs at your undereyes gently, wiping the running makeup. 

You sniff, looking down at your feet. “Don’t look at me like that,” you whisper. When you look back up, Joshua’s eyes are wide as they take in your watery eyes again. “Don’t look at me with pity. I don’t deserve it.” Without wanting to, your lips stretch into a bitter smile. It’s always been like this. Ever since he left, people had always looked at you with a fleeting sense of pity. A sense of patronizing pity – oh, you poor, poor, naive little girl, it seemed to whisper. You should’ve known better. 

Joshua shook his head. “You know I don’t pity you, y/n.” His words are firm, like he has always been. You lean back into his comforting embrace, arms pulled close to your chest, letting his familiar warmth encase you for a moment. Briefly, you wonder if this was what it would have felt like growing up with an older brother. 

“y/n, if you don’t mind me asking,” Joshua trails off, swaying gently. His fingers comb through your hair. 

You hum, body-wracking tears dying down. 

He clears his throat and you know what he is about to ask before he even opens his mouth. “Are you truly over him?” a pause. Joshua continues, “Of course, I’m not saying I don’t believe you. Or that it’s wrong in any sense. Actually, I think Seungcheol would much rather you-” he cuts himself off like he just said something he wasn’t supposed to say. He coughs to fill the silence. “It’s just, maybe it’s not so simple, you know? Of course, I was never very close to the Archduke, even during our shared Academy time, but I’ve seen him more than you have, definitely, over his absence in Society. I don’t know, of course, fully, his true feelings, but I feel as though he’s always held a conflicted heart towards you.” 

You almost scoff at his words. “Conflicted?” You repeat. If anything, you were the one who was conflicted, not him. 

Joshua hesitates, as if he’s choosing the right word to continue his explanation. As if he knows with just one word, all the walls you have built over Wonwoo’s absence will come tumbling down, brick by brick. 

“Perhaps not conflicted, per se,” he hums, pulling away so he can look you in the eyes. “But maybe more so regretful? Sorrowful, I think, may be the right word to describe it.” He lets his words hang in the foyer air. 

Sorrowful, you think. It’s almost laughable how comparable that word is to how you felt – wrathful, destitute, longing for something you knew was never going to come true. 

You catch yourself before your thoughts go further down, shaking your head as if it would get rid of everything. “Whatever he feels, we are over. We are a scandal waiting to happen – even tonight! Look at us! Look at me! Whenever I’m around him, Shua, I just completely lose it! Fuck,” you sigh, and you sink down into your skirts. Your brain hurts from how much your two sides are arguing. One part of you wants desperately to tell Joshua how you feel. How, since Wonwoo’s return, every night as you laid in bed, you could only replay the image of him kissing your knuckles. How, since his greeting words, your fluttering heart started to stutter when the morning mail came in, as if waiting for a letter. Another part of you want to keep it all a secret – pretend it never existed. If you pretend hard enough, maybe it will slowly become the truth. That part wants you to stay in this cycle, and maybe one day, Seungcheol would finally find someone good enough that you could ignore all of their nightly walks for. 

Joshua looks at you. And this time, both of you know it’s with pity – not for you but for your conflicted state. “Be honest with yourself, y/n. At least for matters concerning love,” he advises, bringing your hands up to his lips. A quick kiss is placed onto your knuckles before he steps away, towards the door. 

“Where are you going?” you ask. 

Joshua gives you a tired smile and a knowing look. Then you register the faint hums of the orchestra from outside. “Ducal duties, I guess. I have a ball to run,” he laughs, before placing a hand on your shoulder. “Stay here for however long you need to. I’ll have the kitchen staff send something up for you.” He hesitates before adding, “I’ll try to clean up this situation the best I can.” 

You must be getting closer to your period because those simple words almost have you close to tears again. You give him a watery smile. “Thank you, Joshua.” 

Joshua just grins, stepping out. “Anything for my junior.” And the door clicks shut behind him. 

As soon as the door closes, you collapse onto the nearest couch. You swallow, head slamming into the nearest cushion. 

Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it and maybe it’ll just die over. 

You laugh to yourself. 

When has it ever “just” died over. 

Wonwoo 

Wonwoo swears he didn’t even know y/n was on the balcony. He was just overwhelmed – overwhelmed by the sudden mass of people crowding him when he didn’t expect it. It made his heart thud in his chest and made him forget every noble etiquette he learned in his formative years. 

Wonwoo swears his first intention was to kiss you. But when he had you so close and you looked up at him with such honeyed eyes, everything he learned, he forgot. It was as if his years on the battlefield rid him of his confidence with you. It was as if he was back when he was twenty one, stealing a first (and last) hesitant kiss from you in the royal orchards. 

Wonwoo swears he didn’t mean for this entire thing to happen. He’s not praying for your societal downfall, of course not! He didn’t waltz himself into the stupid winter season opening ball just to kiss you and then have one of the biggest blabbermouths of Society walk in on you two. Hell, he didn’t even want to be at the stupid fucking ball to begin with. But Seungcheol said something about his duty as an archduke to show up to opening season balls or something and he found himself in a carriage, being dropped off in front of the Hong Estate. 

After Joshua had taken you away, it was like the world started spinning again. And he found himself trying to escape a crowd of people until Joshua had returned and concluded the ball. 

Which is how he finds himself in Joshua’s study, staring at Joshua’s back as he watches the last of his guests leave through the large study windows. 

The room is hushed, and a thick tension overlays the entire atmosphere of the room. It’s dimly lit and Wonwoo notices the sheer number of bookshelves and portraits of the previous dukes of the Hong line that decorate the walls. Joshua’s study is the epitome of tradition, of duty, of something he never saw himself to be. Joshua himself stands at the windowsill, arms crossed, and his usually calm demeanor obviously frayed at the end. 

It makes Wonwoo’s current situation that much more terrifying. 

Joshua breaks the silence first, his voice low but unmistakably sharp. 

“What the fuck was that, Wonwoo?” 

There is no preamble, no pleasantries. It was very unlike Joshua to get straight to the point.

The words are distinctly sharp but they very obviously carry a tone of accusation and an undercurrent of disbelief. Like he could not believe Wonwoo was here to begin with. 

Joshua turns slowly, brows furrowed and eyes narrowing. “You’ve been gone for years and this is the first thing you do?” A laugh of disbelief cuts through the air. “Have you lost your goddamn mind?” 

Wonwoo’s jaw locks at his accusing words. His voice is tight with irritation. Joshua’s (in)advertent accusation pricks some shallow part of his conscience. “Maintain your-” 

“-Maintain my what? My position?” Joshua interrupts like he just heard the most outrageous thing from the night. He leans against a bookshelf, a shaking exhale leaving his body. “Do you even know what you just dragged the poor girl into?” 

“What exactly do you think I did?” Wonwoo blanches, straightening. He didn’t hold her against her will or force her into any situation. He was just-

Joshua steps a step closer and under this light, Wonwoo can very clearly see the barely-controlled anger in Joshua’s eyes. “You know what I mean. What you did tonight,” he gestures vaguely off to the side, “there is no excuse for that.” His arms cross, tone dropping to something quieter and much more piercing. “And you pull this shit after everything she’s been through?” he scoffs, “Do you know what this scandal will do to her? What she had to fucking live with for the three years you were conveniently gone from her life?” Every curse word that leaves Joshua’s unlikely mouth stings. Especially because during the entirety of Wonwoo’s fifteen years of knowing Joshua, he’s never heard a single curse word leave the man’s mouth until now. 

Wonwoo’s brows furrow in confusion. “What-” Joshua’s words echo in his head. “What do you mean by that?” 

Joshua’s frustration only deepens at his words. “The whispers that followed y/n?” He lets out a small, bitter laugh when Wonwoo stares at him like he just uttered something in a completely different language. “Of course,” he mumbles, running a hand through his hair. “Of course you didn’t know. You weren’t even here,” he strains. “You have no idea – not even an inkling – of what she had to go through. The rumors, the scandals, the fucking engagements that all ended in-” Joshua cuts himself off with a frustrated sigh, closing his eyes. 

Wonwoo blinks, a sense of dread overcoming his senses. ‘Engagements? What- what are you-” 

Joshua perfectly ignores him. “You think she can just simply brush off whatever you just did? That Society will let her brush it off?” 

Wonwoo’s gaze wavers as something tightens in his chest. It’s like every one of Joshua’s words hit something in him. He steps backwards slightly. His hands shake in fists next to him. “I never meant for this entire thing to happen,” he mutters. But he can’t help the guilt that begins to creep into his voice. “I never intended for any of this, Joshua.” 

At his shaking words, Joshua’s posture lets up the slightest bit. Instead of pure anger, there is now a quiet concern that mixes itself in.

“You think she’s been waiting for you this entire time, Wonwoo?” he asks. “No, your grace.” The title hits Wonwoo hard. “She’s been through enough, man. Let her live.” He takes a slow step towards Wonwoo, eyes softer now. “Do you know how each of her engagements ended, Wonwoo?” Joshua’s jaw clenches. “With each and every man going off with some other whore in the back alleys. Every. Single. One.” 

The weight of Joshua’s words hit him like a horse plowing through the fields. “I-” he doesn’t even know what to say. Each and every man going off with some other whore. The phrase repeats itself over and over and over inside his head. He doesn’t even know what the emotions that wrack his body are. Anger? Guilt? Some sort of combination? 

“She’s always been frightfully alone – against Society, the judgment, the pain of the engagements. The entire Society just sees her as a scandal waiting to happen.” Joshua lets out a breath, swallowing. 

Wonwoo is frozen in his place, every word that leaves Joshua’s mouth cutting a deeper wound into his heart. “I never wanted that for her,” he whispers. “I never wanted her to feel alone. I never-”

“-But you did, Wonwoo.” Joshua’s voice cracks and his eyes glisten with pity. “Wonwoo, when you left, you absolutely broke her.” 

At his words, Wonwoo stumbles back like it is a physical blow. 

“She cried almost every other night. She wouldn’t eat at her own estate so Seungcheol ordered her to stay at the palace. Mingyu,” he lets out a frustrated laugh, “Mingyu, he had to carry her up to a guest room every night because she would fall asleep in the library.” Joshua’s gaze is piercing. “But I guess you were too busy doing whatever.” 

Wonwoo’s eyes are wide, his breath still in his throat. He feels his stomach twist and his hands clench into fists. “I didn’t know,” he repeats, almost as if it's a mantra that keeps him afloat. As if he was trying to convince himself. He feels something break inside of him – a dam, a wall, something. Because for the first time since his return, he feels the full weight of the distance between him and y/n. No. Maybe it was always there to begin with and he had refused to face it. He can finally feel the missed years, the cut conversations, the things she had to endure without him. The things she had to endure because of him. It’s like everything is crashing down around him in pieces of broken glass, cutting small pieces of his skin. It’s like all of his mistakes, his failures, his greed that made him think only of himself, comes crashing down in full-force. 

“How do I-” Wonwoo mumbles. There is a strange pressure behind his eyes. “How do I fix this?” When he looks back up at Joshua, he’s at a loss for words. “I never meant to hurt her.” 

Joshua shakes his head slowly, voice firm in this. “But you did. You can’t change that now, three years later. Just fix it. She’s suffered long enough.” Joshua steps back, turning to the window. “Show her that you’re not leaving again. That she can trust you again.” 

“And if it doesn’t work?” Wonwoo’s voice sounds broken, even to his own ears. 

Joshua pauses. He looks over his shoulder. “Then it doesn’t. But if you feel anything towards her, you’ll try.” 

Wonwoo’s eyes close and his hands find purchase on Joshua’s desk. Stupid, he thinks, swallowing back lumps in his throat. Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid. Should’ve stayed away. 

: ̗̀➛ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴛᴡɪɴᴇᴅ -- ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ @syluslittlecrows @gaslysainz @meowmeowminnie @luvjichang @peachytokki @nicoleparadas @haneulparadx @mj-szaa @lilylikesthat @ppaia @ameliamirabela @tearsdntfall617

[liliapleasesteponme]

Personal assistant

Avis amberg x fem!reader

Summary - Avis can't think of anything but you and she needs to find a way to spend more time with you so you're offered a promotion / Avis's first time with a woman

Warnings - top!reader, bottom!avis, masturbating, fingering (avis receiving), oral (reader receiving), cheating, reader calls avis a 'good girl'

Requested by @weemswife

Tags - @mgruiz @thoroughly--confused @bravewithacapitalb @priceysalt @imorynn @aggieharkness @gayestswiftie @multixfan

You, a low level worker at Ace Studios, had been staying much longer after you shifts ended recently. Not because of extra work or actually wanting to be there, but because of the new woman in charge. After Ace got sick, Avis started working in his place and you couldn't help but daydream about her.

The way her eyes lingered on you in passing, the way she had you hanging on every word, the way her hair was always flawless. The list was never-ending. In your eyes, she was perfect ... But she was taken. She was married to stupid Ace, your boss of all people, but not anymore. For now it was just her. You'd hate to admit it but you had secretly hoped that Ace would stay sick so you could keep seeing Avis when she was around.

You knew it was wrong to think such things about a married woman but with her it was impossible not to. You spent the days imagining her hands on your thighs, lips on your neck, fingers teasing your hole. You could only imagine how amazing it would be to hear her moan.

As far as you knew, she was a straight, married woman who would never be interested in some random girl that works in her husband's studio ― or atleast that's what you thought.

Avis, on the other hand, had been trying everything she could to leave early for the past week. A mission she failed miserably at. Running a studio was something new, something very overwhelming for her.

After Ace left and she said yes to producing 'meg', it had been hell in the studio, dealing with rioting at the gates, endless reporters knocking at her door and theaters already refusing to show the picture. She was exhausted.

Any other day, she would go to the gas station for some stress relief but with how often she'd been going at the moment, all of the boys there had begun to bore her. She needed something new, something exciting. She couldn't even turn to jack anymore with him focusing his interest on her daughter.

She tried anything she could but nothing gave her the release she so desperately needed. That was until she first saw you. You were walking down the hallway and accidentally bumped into her. You began apologising a thousand times for it but she dismissed it as 'a simple mistake that could've happened to anyone'

Since that day, the two of you hadn't stopped thinking about one another. At first she couldn't stop thinking about your voice, then your outfit, then your hair and so much more. She was fixated on how your eyes gazed into hers that day you first met.

One particularly lonely night, Avis found herself laying on her bed in just her nightgown. She was, once again, thinking about you. How you'd smile at her whenever you saw her after that first day. Her hands began to travel down her body and inbetween her legs.

Her pussy was already dripping from how much she'd been longing for you. She rubbed her clit for a moment before going straight in with one finger to start her off. Her pace was slow at first while she moved into a more comfortable position.

After a minute or two she inserted a second finger, quickening her pace slightly. Her moans got gradually louder until she began praising your name. "mhh god, y/nn-ahhhh fuck, wish you were touching me, y/n mm fuuckk"

Saying your name only turned her on even more as she got closer and closer to the high she was craving. With a few more thrusts of her fingers, she came, practically screaming your name.

Sure, she had masturbated plenty of times before, but this, this was a new feeling. She needed you and it was becoming harder and harder for her not to do anything about it.

The next morning at the studio she called you into her office, "good morning miss y/l/n. I can see you've been working very hard recently." You said morning to her aswell and thanked her for the compliment. "I've asked you here to say ..."

She wanted to say anything along the lines of 'i can't stop thinking about you' or 'i want to take you to dinner' but the words just wouldn't come out. Something in her mind wasn't letting her confess how much she wanted you, how much she wanted to feel your fingers inside her, how much she yearned for your touch.

Instead she ended up saying, "your being promoted, to personal assistant, my personal assistant."

The job was much higher up than your current job and certainly paid much more. You were surprised at first, how did your staying a few hours more than usual for the past few weeks turn into this ?

You were silent for a moment before bursting into thanks, the money this job would provide could do so much for you (and this meant you'd get to see her way more) The two of you talked for about half an hour about what the job required you to do, your hours and anything else that seemed relevent.

When the two of you finished up, you collected yourself and stood to get to work but she impulsively grabbed your arm, holding you back. There was a quiet moment before she managed to configure her thoughts and say, "i almost forgot, it's customary that when a new personal assistant is hired that they are taken out to a 'welcome to the job' dinner. I'm leaving at 6:45 today, be in my office then and we'll go."

Of course this 'customary dinner' wasn't real but she desperately needed a way to see you outside of the studio. When you heard that she was taking you out, you were jumping for joy on the inside, on the outside you tried to play it cool so she wouldn't know how overly excited you were.

The day flew by as all you could think about was what might happen with Avis. When the clock turned six you decided to leave a bit early to stop off at your apartment and change. Though this dinner was probably all innocent, you thought, you still wanted to look your best for her, even if she doesn't feel the same way you do.

Little did you know she was doing the exact same thing, though she was still in her office, she was fixing her makeup that had worn throughout the day. Her mind was racing at the thought of what could come out of tonight if she played her cards right.

Just the thought of you going out with her made her wet. She hoped that by the end of the dinner that she could make you as wet as she was now. The heat started to become to much for her as she imagined all the things that you could do to her or vice versa.

Her hand moved down to her core, once again, unable to resist. She pushed under her skirt and closer to where she wished your head was, her breath hitching in anticipation. Just as she was going to plunge a first finger in, the door opened.

You had arrived ten minutes early just to be ready and forgot to knock. Lucky for her, the desk managed to hide her lower half just enough that you had no way of knowing what she had just been caught doing.

She quickly removed her hand and stood to greet you. You both left and as you walked out she guided you with her hand on your lower back. Her action gave you butterflies like none you'd ever had before and that's when you decided. You would have her tonight no matter what.

She drove you to a fancy italian restaurant on the edge of town. The table you were seated at was a secluded spot in the corner of the restaurant. There were candles and roses on every table, it definitely didn't look like somewhere you take 'just a colleague'.

The dinner itself was amazing, the two of you got to know eachother better, the food was so good and everything just felt perfect. As she finished up her meal, you decided that now was the time to try and flirt with her.

At first it didn't seem to go too great, your lines were mediocre at best but she still seemed to fall for every word that came out of your mouth. Her heart eyes made you stutter over your words while you spoke. Suddenly, you felt her heel move up your leg. It stopped you in your tracks. You thought you flirting was one-sided but now ? Maybe you were wrong.

You felt like the room had gotten much hotter, she leaned over the table and as close to your face as she could get. "we should leave." she said with a wink.

You couldn't have agreed with her words more, she pulled you out to her car, hand in hand. You both got in and silently drove to her house. About half way through the drive, you put your hand on Avis's thigh, when you did, you saw her slightly jump at the unexpected contact. After a minute, however, she relaxed a bit more lifting the tension between the two of you.

She led you through the doors, past the other rooms and into the bedroom. Her room was like nothing you'd ever seen. It was luxurious, filled with things most people could never afford, you were in awe.

After a moment of scanning the room, you noticed a small desk-table in the corner, it was unclear what it was made of since it was completely coverd by various papers.

"what's all this ?" you asked pointing to the masses of paperwork on the table, "i thought you said at dinner that you dont like to bring work home with you."

She let out a loud sigh "running the studio in Ace's place has been stressful to say the least. There's no other option at the moment. If i don't then i fear it will never be done." she let her eyes wander to yours, "i feel like i need a distraction, you know ? Something to take my mind off it all, i just can't find anything good enough."

"yeah ? Then let me distract you." Your hand reached out to touch her arm, at first she was tense but she quickly relaxed against your soft touch. Your thumb rubbed mindlessly up and down her arm.

You moved in front of her and leant in. As if it were a reflex, she instantly met your lips with hers. The kiss was tender at first but as you both settled into it, it became more passionate, driven by your lust for her. Your arms snaked their way around her waist and she let out a small moan, allowing you access to deepen the kiss even more with you tongue.

While it was just your arms around her waist, it felt like everything to her. A sign that you really wanted her. A way of knowing that this was real. After a minute, she pulled away to catch her breath.

You pecked her lips one more time before pushing her onto the bed. You made sure she was placed comfortably before continuing. You began to kiss and suck her neck, leaving hickeys she would have a hard time covering tommorow.

She ran her fingers through your hair and the feeling made you moan against her neck, sending a shiver down her spine. You continued leaving hickeys on her as your hands roamed lower and lower until you reached the bottom of her skirt. You looked down at her but got no sign from her.

When you moved closer, she hesitated. It wasn't that she was inexperienced (cause we all know shes not), she's just inexperienced in sex like this―with a woman.

You noticed her hesitance and asked, "are you sure you want to do this ?" she nodded almost instantly but in this situation that wouldn't do. "i need words Avis."

The way her name rolled of your tongue was mesmerizing to her. She soon replied, "yes. Yes i want this. I need this."

It almost sounded like she was begging you to fuck her. You never thought you'd see the Avis amberg so vulnerable, so desperate for you. It was a sight you could never forget, not that you would ever want to.

Now you had her words, you hiked her skirt up and removed her black underwear. Just feeling your hand massage her clit was enough to get her caught in a string of moans.

Without warning you plunged two fingers deep into her throbbing pussy. She got louder and louder as you began to thrust in and out of her faster and faster.

She felt her high approaching already and she was secretly ashamed that it was this easy to make her cum, but she couldn't focus on that because of how incredible you were making her feel.

"ohh fuck fuck, im close, so close, mmph fuck y/n" she panted. "do it, be a good girl and cum for me."

Just like that, she came all over your fingers. A symphony of moans, laced with praise of your name escaped her. That orgasm was like nothing she'd ever experienced with a man. This was so different, so much better.

She waited until her breathing was stable and said, "well, i guess it's my time to return the favor then." her voice was seductively low.

Before you could reply, she grabbed you by the hips and pulled you forward until your legs were either side of her head. You didn't remember when you took off your clothes but you had, giving her full access to your pussy.

She looked up at you and you nodded back at her. She licked a stripe along your hole taking in how wet fucking her made you. She gave a small laugh at your wetness that sent a vibration through your core making you moan, loudly.

She took your moan as a signal to keep going. She pushed her tongue into your pussy and tasted you through kitten licks at first. She could see how much you loved this by the way your hips began to mindlessly grind into her.

Her movements became faster and sloppier as she could feel your walls clenching around her. Her pattern had become completely random as she did whatever she could to send you over the edge.

With a few more licks, your orgasm washed over you. You moans were louder than ever as you came in her mouth. You whimpered in overstimulation as she licked up any cum left on you swallowing all she could get.

Once you had regained composure, she helped you move off of her so you could lay together. You both held eachother in a way that felt new to both of you, it was so soft, so warm, so loving.

This is how it should be. You both thought.

A/N - im soo tired rn but i have #insomia so im gonna try to sleep now, i hope you guys all like the fic, its my first time writing for avis, lmk what you think <3