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hannieehaee · 7 months ago

Text

18+ / mdi

content: bff'sbrother!jungkook, softdom!jungkook, enemies2lovers-ish, he's a lil annoying in this, angst, mentions of rejection, one-sided crush, afab reader, smut, fingering, dry humping, penetrative sex, overstimulation (kinda), etc.

wc: 4076

a/n: another jk fic bc im taking time off work and have nothing to do</3 this went longer than anticipated lol sorry

masterlist

"what are you doing here?", grumbled the man as soon as he opened the door and spotted you on the other side of it.

"can you get out of the way? i'm obviously here for minji."

"she doesn't get here til tomorrow," he responded, though still moving out of the way to let you in.

you were about to snark at him again when he stopped in his tracks, eyes widening when they made contact with the suitcases you were struggling to drag behind you, "why are you carrying suitcases? fuck, don't tell me you're staying here," he grabbed onto one, stopping your movements.

"yes, jungkook. minji told me i could crash here for spring break. what's it to you? your house is big enough. just ignore my presence," you attempted to move your suitcases again, knowing you'd receive no help from the boy even if you asked.

"so you're here to ruin my break?" the complaints were never ending despite having entered the home only mere moments ago.

"stop being a child and get out of my way," you grumbled when the idiot refused to remove his hand from the handle of your suitcase.

he let out a heavy sigh, scrunching his eyes closed in annoyance before speaking again, "okay, move. i'll bring your shit upstairs."

"no, i can-"

"you can't carry all this upstairs. my mom's gonna be mad if i don't offer to help you. just let go," he muttered, pushing your hands away and somehow lifting both suitcases at once as he walked towards the stairs.

without any energy to argue with him, you just followed him upstairs, annoyed he insisted to pretend to do you a favor.

"are your parents home?", you asked, confused as to why he had been the one to open the door.

"no, they went out of town this weekend. they should be here tonight."

"why are you here?"

you knew this was his home, but it was a valid question. this had been the third time you'd spent some sort of school break at minji's house, yet jungkook had never been there during the duration of it, usually only popping up for a day or two by the end of each break.

"you mean in my house?", he chuckled sarcastically.

"you're never here- you know what i meant."

"didn't have any plans this time. why? am i ruining your break?"

the two of you finally made it to the extra guest room in minji's house, with jungkook settling your stuff on the bed and uncharacteristically taking a seat on it, as if planning to hang around. you ignored the thought and went to open your suitcase, planning to unpack a few of the things since you'd be staying for over a week.

"yeah," you deadpanned.

he scoffed, "not like i wanna spend my break with you either, princess."

groaning, you threw a folded shirt at him, "ew, i told you not to call me that."

seemingly pleased at having annoyed you, he chuckled and picked up the shirt you threw, folding it and placing it on the bed. he continued to occasionally grab one thing or another as you unpacked. you always knew jungkook to be quite fidgety, so you didn't question him grabbing your stuff to entertain himself as you unpacked.

jungkook wordlessly stayed on your bed as you went around the room organizing your stuff, attempting to ignore his presence but not entirely able to. you were willing to retain peace without complaining, but then he started making noise.

you usually didn't care for his presence too much, even as badly as the two of you got along, but the constant humming quickly got on your nerves. he hummed and hummed and did not stop even as ten minutes passed by, still taking stuff from your suitcase to fidget with. currently he was entertaining himself with a random shoe.

"jungkook! why are you still here?", you suddenly snapped, confused as to why he'd been sitting on your bed with a blank look on his face despite usually being liberal in expressing his dislike for you.

he looked at you for a few moments, no emotion on his face before speaking up.

"why don't we get along?"

"what?"

"you heard me. why don't we get along? you've been friends with my sister since childhood, but you've always hated me. why?"

"you started it," you murmured, taking the shoe he currently had in his hold and turning around to place it somewhere else.

he got up, walking over to you and turning you around by your shoulders and taking the shoe from you again, "i started it? what are you talking about? you've been rude to me since the seventh grade. i've just been returning the favor."

sighing in frustration, you grabbed shook his hands off your shoulders and stubbornly grabbed the shoe again, "why do you think that is, jungkook?"

a confused look overtook his face at your insinuation of your relationship being his fault, clearly not remembering what you were referring to.

"wha-what are you talking about?"

"god, you're such a dumbass sometimes. i mean, i assumed you didn't remember, but to have confirmation of it just kinda sucks," you chuckled bitterly.

he grabbed onto your shoulders again when you tried to walk past him, "tell me what you're talking about," he insisted.

for the most part, you didn't want to. you still felt embarrassed thinking about it, even if it had been over a decade since it had happened. to know he really didn't remember the source of your dislike for him also didn't really help matters. it just frustrated you at his presence even more.

through the years you had learned not to take the mutual banter too seriously. it was mostly lighthearted, to be honest. but any time you thought back to how it had started, you became beyond angry at the boy who was seemingly nice too all those he knew but you. sure, you had technically been the one to source this animosity, but he bad been the instigator of it after all.

you had been nine years old at the time, having recently moved into town and befriended minji. she had been your salvation, becoming instantly interested in being your friend despite you being brand new. you became quick friends, hanging out inside and outside school almost every day.

minji had the good fortune of being extremely close to her family, which allowed you to bond with them quite a lot. that was when you met her older brother, one of her favorite people in the world.

jungkook had been pure perfection in your young eyes, seeing him as unattainable at the young age of nine. he was two years your senior, which made you come to the quick realization that your crush would remain one-sided forever. except this didn't stop your naive heart to read into his nice demeanor and wishfully believe that maybe he'd like you back.

you crushed on him silently for three years, even coming to befriend him in the process. you wouldn't see him too often, but it was always nice when you did, always getting along quite well. this continued up until you hit twelve years of age, your tweenhood years. unfortunately, jungkook was now into his teens, meaning that he followed the footprints of every other man and had a short-lived phase where he was a bit insensitive to girls his age.

being completely delusional and being on your way to graduate middle school, you took a leap, deciding to invite jungkook as your date to your middle school prom. you had thought you read all the signs right, thinking that even if he rejected you, he'd still be nice enough to go with you as a friend. your hopes were completely crushed when he turned you down with zero hesitance, even patronizing you in the process.

the worst part of it all came later, when you were first entering high school. somehow a few of his friends had gotten word of the situation, dubbing you as desperate and obsessed with him. although the rumors died pretty quickly, and you were able to feign indifference to jungkook and everyone else, the seed of hate began to grow in you. little by little, you stopped speaking to jungkook altogether, eventually coming to proudly dislike him. despite minji's constant questioning about your change in demeanor towards her brother, you never told, not wanting any drift to be caused between you and minji, nor her and her brother.

the gradual change in your feelings for jungkook had been so natural that it made sense for him to not remember the source of the current state of your relationship. he had caught on naturally, simply bantering back with you whenever you gave him attitude. it was likely that he believed it all to be lighthearted at first, eventually becoming accustomed enough to it to not question it.

and now you were here, having to explain a stupid childhood heartbreak to the perpetrator of it all as he stared down at you in absolute wonder.

"eighth grade, jungkook. remember?"

he shook his head in confusion, his eyes still wide as his brain wracked itself to remember.

"the dance?"

"the dance? what dan- oh! the- the dance? that's it?"

'that's it'?

he mustve caught the look of annoyance in your face, as he quickly went to retract himself.

"fuck, wait. i didn't mean it like that, just- is that why you hate me? because i said no to you?"

you took a step away from him again, still frustrated, but his arms remained on your shoulders so you would keep looking right at him. it was awkward and extremely uncomfortable considering the context, but you didn't move away.

"it wasn't just that, jungkook," you started, "was it that horrible of a thought to go to the dance with me? i was twelve, you couldve been nicer about it. and to tell your friends about it? i was mocked for weeks after that. and now you wanna act like this is my fault? like ive just been mean to you for no reason?", you scoffed, looking at your feet in favor of not having to look at him.

"wait, who ... who made fun of you? i- i never told anyone what happened. why would i do that?"

"jungkook, stop. taehyung? jimin? they wouldn't stop bringing it up for weeks. it died down after a while, but i was already humiliated."

he shook his head and denial, seemingly at himself. finally letting go of you, he sat back on the bed, look of confusion still on his face before a lightbulb metaphorically manifested itself above his head.

"oh fuck," he muttered, "i- i remember now, but it didn't go down the way you think, okay? let me explain."

you crossed your arms and nodded, signaling for him to continue.

he uncrossed his arms, running them through his hair in a frustrated fashion before he began to explain, oddly passionate as he did so, "i told them right after it happened. i felt so bad for saying no to you, they noticed how down i was about it and asked. i swear i didnt say anything bad. fuck, i never knew they teased you about it, im so sorry," he rambled, "and i didnt- i didnt mean to make you feel bad when i said no. you're my sister's best friend and- and you were so young. i know it doesnt matter anymore, but saying yes felt wrong. it felt like id be taking advantage of you somehow."

"jungkook-"

"if it makes you feel better," he hesitated before continuing, "i, uh, i kinda had a crush on you when we were 17. i- i was going to ask you to my prom, but you picked a fight with me that day and told me to get the fuck out. thats, that's kinda when i started to hate you back," he smiled awkwardly towards the end.

that took you for a bit of a loop. you weren't a heartless asshole. it wasnt like you meant to hurt him through your dislike of him, but rather protect yourself from further rejection. it made you feel bad to know that you'd somewhat done a similar thing to him at some point, even verbally berating him time after time when his intentions hadn't been malicious.

"are you serious?"

"do you really hate me? for what i did, i mean," he interrupted.

did you? for the most part, you had just grown far too used to your animosity with jungkook. due to your own mean behavior towards him, he became equally as rude, creating a vicious cycle of disrespect between the two of you. but did you hate him?

the answer was probably not.

if you did, your heart wouldn't have jumped at the mention of him having had a crush on you back when you were seventeen.

"no, i don't hate you. do you?"

he turned to you, shaking his head, "of course not," he confirmed, "do you wanna start over?", he asked, getting up from the bed and walking over to you.

you couldn't help but chuckle at his sudden proposal. you also couldnt help in nodding in agreement, confirming that yes, you'd be willing to put aside a petty middle school misunderstanding in favor of starting over.

then he opened his arms, gesturing for a hug before asking for permission for one, "hug?"

wordlessly, you accepted the offer of a friendly hug, reasoning that it was only natural considering how touchy he was with everyone other than yourself.

when you went to pull away, his arms tightened around you, head burying itself further into your hair, "just a little longer," he murmured.

with no reason to deny him, you wrapped your arms around him once more, only letting go when he started to slowly pull away.

that's when you made the mistake of looking up at him as he attempted to make himself let go of you.

seemingly, he had made the same mistake, now locking eyes with you at a proximity far too close for two people who hated each other just mere minutes ago. stupidly enough, your eyes predictably went down to his lips, not realizing his own had done the same. the only difference was that he was far more daring than you, allowing his lips to lower down onto yours and envelop them in a soft kiss.

greedy hands dug into your hips before making their way to your waist, holding you as close to him as he could. your own hands wrapped around his shoulders, moving to play with his hair as soon as the kiss turned more heated.

moaning against him, he pulled away for a second, still keeping his lips entirely too close to your own as he breathed through his nose to calm himself down. the following kiss was even more harrowing, causing you to take a step back due to the sheer force of it. he walked you back, pressing you up against the nearest wall as he took advantage of being able to crowd you, allowing his hands to get a feel of your body as you kissed.

despite how pathetically you followed his lips, he still pulled away, throwing his shirt off before going back to kissing you, letting his hands wander underneath your own shirt as he did so. his hands dug deep under your shirt, feeling up your bare breasts and groaning at the lack of bra.

gradually, his lips made their way to your ear and then down your neck, murmuring against your skin.

"fuck, so fucking pretty ... and so needy for me, huh? sound so good moaning for me like that," he breathed against you.

you burned up, embarrassed by how easily he had an effect on you, but you still let him do whatever he wanted, knowing that nothing you did would prevent your body from wanting his touch.

throwing off your shirt, his lips trailed down even further south, latching onto your nipples and groaning into your skin at the way you arched your body, pressing up even closer to him.

but suddenly there was a shift.

jungkook halted his movements, making his way back up to your lips and locking them with his own in a heavy and greedy kiss, resulting in a lack of breath from both of you. against your lips, he whispered something that made your knees buckle.

"i'm gonna pay you back for all those times you were mean to me, baby," his lips moved to your ear, chuckling at your anticipatory shudder, "gonna do whatever i want with this pretty body, yeah?"

nodding pathetically, you gave way for him to do anything he wanted. already drenched, there was no way you could possibly formulate any words that didn't come out as an embarrassing whine. he seemed to enjoy this too, holding a pleased smirk in his face as he easily dragged you over to the bed, pushing off your suitcase and dropping you on it with a bounce.

before you could even think, jungkook had already thrown off his shoes and undone his pants, his hands coming to do the same to you. your shaky hands attempted to help him, but he simply tsk'd at you, letting you know that he'd take care of everything tonight. everything, he emphasized.

"oh, fuck," he groaned once you were fully nude, "this is all mine now, yeah? fuck, been waiting for years for you to stop being a brat and let me have this pretty body all to myself," he kissed your lips between each sentence, "might lose control at how gorgeous and mine it is ..." he murmured as his hands took their rightful place exploring your body.

"kook-" you whined, already wanting him to do something – anything.

"shh, baby," he coo'd, "i'm gonna do whatever i want. and you're gonna take it like a good girl, okay? gonna behave for me for once."

fully crawling on top of you, jungkook went back to making out with you, wrapping your legs around his waist as he began humping against your already soaked cunt.

groaning, he pulled away for a second in favor of nibbling softly at your lip, "oh, this pretty pussy's so fucking soaked already ... thought you hated me, baby, what happened?" he chuckled darkly, giving you no room to answer before shoving his tongue in your mouth.

just as his tongue attempted to suck all air out of you, his hand suddenly snuck between your bodies, finding your cunt with ease and beginning to drag his fingers up and down your folds, not giving you want you needed.

"pretty fucking pussy," he murmured, "gonna play with your clit now, baby. it's gonna cry for me by the time im done."

his fingers found your clit almost immediately, taking turns in rubbing teasing circles over it and hammering in and out of your cunt. he swallowed every single moan, groaning against your lips any time your cries went so high they went straight to his cock.

"that good, pretty? so good that you have to cry for more? oh, baby. you're so lucky this pussy's so fucking cute. lucky i cant control myself around you ..."

"f-faster, please ..."

"faster? oh, like this?", his fingers slowed down drastically, barely stimulating you at all as you cried and clawed at his back, whining for more than he seemed willing to give you.

"n-no! please, just- just wanna cum, kookie. please?"

his fingers curled entirely too well at your cry of his nickname, even making him groan when he felt your own reaction to his fingers. it was clear he liked you crying out for him, so the more you did it, the more of his fingers he gave you, leading you to the verge of an orgasm.

afraid he'd try and deny you just for sadistic means, you cried for him prematurely, begging him to let you cum.

"kookie, p-please, please let me cum, i-i'll do anything. i'll give you anything, just, fuck, please!"

there was not a single care in you about how pathetic and out of character you sounded, not when jungkook's wasnt faring any better at the effect your desperation had on him.

"cum. cum for me, baby. wanna feel that cunt cream around my fingers so i can fill it back up with my own, okay? be good for me and- fuck, and cum ..." as much as he wanted to be in charge and show a dominant side to him, your cunt just kept dragging his fingers back in, making him feel a carnal need to steal your orgasm all for himself and many others after this one.

your hand wrapped around his free wrist, needing it as support as an otherworldly orgasm took over you. back arching and eyes rolling back, you became a sight that jungkook had only ever seen in his most depraved of dreams about you. he was surprised at his cock not bursting upon such an arousing view, making him realize that he needed to fuck you as soon as posible before losing his mind.

despite talking you through your orgasm, jungkook still gave you no time to recover before shoving his tongue in your mouth and grabbing his dick to drag up and down your sensitive folds.

crying against him, you attempted to push him away at first, feeling too sensitive for immediate stimulation, but your body gave up quickly after, melting into the overload of pleasure. tears crowded in your eyes, but your legs wrapped around his waist to pull him closer, needing more of that pressure against your cunt.

taking the hint and far too horny to drag this out any longer, he pushed inside you, groaning against you at the feeling of finally being wrapped around your warmth.

"it's so fucking wet ... oh, fuck. you wanted this so bad, didnt you, baby? fucking soaked and just pulling me in ... it's so- so tight n warm n perfect for me," he babbled, lost in pleasure.

jungkook's hips were restless against yours, an insatiable desire to chase for his pleasure taking over him as the sound of skin slapping made him dizzy. the occasional babble accompanied by a pitiful hiccup that came out of you did not help his situation, making him fear that he might cum before you.

"let- let me just get my finger there- yeah, fuck. just gonna rub that tiny little clit, okay? shit, you just tightened around my cock so fucking good ..." he groaned, thumb circling your clit to accelerate your orgasm.

"g-gonna, fuck, gonna cum ... p-please ... with me? cum with me?" you begged, barely able to get a single coherent word out while jungkook showed no mercy against you.

nodding, he kissed you, promising he'd cum – begging you to cum. counting you down, he whispered against your ear while his hips stuttered messily against your own, now completely overtaken by both yours and his orgasm.

the sounds shared between the two of you were nothing short of shameful, consisting of whines and cries filled with desperation. it was a depraved scene only meant for the two of you to enjoy.

pulling out of you proved to be a challenge, as jungkook would happily remained inside you until his last breath, but the thought of holding you innocently in his arms as you caught your breath was something he did not want to miss out on.

and so he held you against him, crowding your face against his chest so you could lay your head right by his heart.

"that was-"

"yeah," he breathed with a chuckle before turning to you with a boyish smile on his face, "i have a confession to make."

you turned around too, unable to not match his smile, "what is it?"

"i lied earlier. i, uh, i did like you when you were seventeen, but ... i kinda still like you."

it was impossible not to feel your face warm up at this, scrunching up your nose at how cutely he had confessed, "what if i said it was mutual?"

his smile somehow got bigger at that, "then i'd say i'm gonna have to steal you away from my sister," he pulled you into his chest again, enjoying the vibrations of your laugh.

a/n: this was rushed and not proofread sorry</3

#bts fanfic #bts smut #bts x reader #bts imagine #bts oneshot #bts scenario #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagine #jungkook smut

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ellecdc · 1 month ago

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Do you think you’d ever be interested in doing a poly!jily x reader fic? I love your work and think you could come up with a lot of fun things with it. Like maybe where lily is acting how James did with her but towards the reader and James is ever so amused with it

this was such a cute prompt! thanks for your patience as I waited for the right idea for it! xx

poly!Jily x fem!reader who is the latest victim of Potter level affections [884 words]

CW: fluff, reader is maybe a little feisty? but we love her for it

“What in Merlin’s name?” Sirius whispered in disbelief as he approached Lily and James in the library; the table they were currently occupying was nearly overflowing with pink poster board, glitter, and an array of charmed flowers clearly pilfered from the greenhouses.

“What are you two up to now?” Remus asked as he cautiously pulled a chair that was free of ribbon and lace.

“Preparing for my N.E.W.T’s, can’t you tell?” Lily retorted, the small quirk of her lips was the only proof Remus got that her words were in jest before her tongue stuck out between her teeth again as she tried to tie a difficult bow.

“Jamie, can I borrow your finger, please?” She asked around an exasperated sigh; James appeared all too eager and willing to oblige.

“It’d be my honour, m’lady.” He offered with a saccharine smile.

Lily shook her head at him but smiled nonetheless as she completed her bow.

“Right, so, back to my earlier sentiments; what in the buggering fuck is going on here?” Sirius spat, not nearly as careful as Remus had been as he dumped various craft supplies onto the ground to free up a chair for himself.

“Yeah, who are you trying to woo now, Prongs?” Remus taunted, earning him a snort and a head shake from James who never removed his lovesick gaze from Lily.

“This is all her.”

“Evans!?” Sirius beseeched. “Who are you trying to woo!?”

“We’re both” Lily corrected as she offered James a half-hearted glare “pursuing Y/N.”

“Y/N? Didn’t an owl deliver her a box of chocolates just yesterday?” Remus asked.

“Those were from us.” Lily replied, her focus steady on the craft in front of her.

“And a bouquet of flowers the day before that?”

“Yup.”

“And the howler that simply played ABBA’s Take a Chance on Me?”

“What is your point, Sirius?” Lily harrumphed as she stepped back to admire her creation.

A mischievous look took over Sirius’ face that Lily didn’t notice on account of her attention being solely dedicated on her current task of wooing you, but had Remus bracing for impact.

“Say, Prongsie, what was the first box of chocolates you sent to Evans in your attempts to pursue her?”

“The toffee flavoured truffles that I saw her eyeing at Honeydukes!” He responded quickly, and Remus watched as Lily’s brows furrowed.

“Right, and how many bouquets of lilies did you send her?”

“Forty-two.”

“Uh huh.” Sirius drawled. “And, remind me, what song did you send Lily via howler?”

“Lay All Your Love on Me!”

“And tell me, Evans, where’d you get all this?” He asked as he pulled a string of lacy ribbon between his fingers only for Lily to rip it away from him.

“From James’ trunk. Stop touching it!”

“Oh gods, you’re just as bad as he was!” Sirius cackled, and Lily turned to look at James who was simply smiling at her.

“I…I am not as bad as he was. I- …he was such a toerag!”

Sirius snorted. “Then that makes you a toerag-ess.”

Lily looked like she was reaching for her wand to hex Sirius for his shite, but James grabbed her wrist and brought her knuckles to his lips for a kiss before she could manage to. “Don’t worry, Lils. You came around eventually.”

“Six years later.” Remus chuckled under his breath, though he immediately regretted it when Lily’s horrified face whipped towards him.

“Six years later!? It took me six years!?” She nearly shrilled. “We don’t have six years! We have months!”

“No one can deny you, my beautiful Lily flower.” James cooed as he rubbed his thumb over Lily’s knuckles.

It looked like his attempt at placation had almost worked before Lily noticed you walking by.

“Wait! Y/N!” She shouted, nearly tripping over various ribbons and boxes of craft supplies as she hurried after you. “Did you get the chocolates we sent you yesterday!?”

“You guys are so hopeless.” Sirius muttered, earning him a small chuckle from James, though he never got a chance to respond.

“Potter!” You hissed as Lily forcibly led you towards their table with her arm around your shoulder. “This goes against every feminist urge in my body, but would you control your woman!?”

James simply rested his chin on his hand as he gazed at the two of you. “I wouldn’t dream of it, angel.”

Realisation seemed to dawn on you as a group of fifth years walked past whispering “oh Merlin. It’s happening again.”

“You’re kidding me.” You deadpanned as Lily smiled and pressed her nose into your cheek.

“There’s nothing funny about our feelings for you.” James responded earnestly.

“Well,” Sirius cut in, “it’s kind of funny.” He countered, nodding his head towards the table that looked as though cupid himself had thrown up on it.

“Oh, like you haven’t sent Lupin a howler or two of your own, Black.” You sneered, causing Remus to choke on the sip of water he’d been taking and Sirius to gawk at you in surprise.

“Where do you find these birds, James?!”

James simply let out a dreamy sigh as he beamed at you. “Heaven.”

And by Lily’s effervescent smile pointed directly at the side of your face, Remus could tell she more than agreed with that sentiment.

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virgoilluminati · 4 months ago

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can u please write a jude fic where your in a talking stage and he comes over and you both make out for the first time 🤭

It's been a long time coming...

A/N: this is my first request in absolutely ages so tysm you have made my day ✨❣️ As I am now unemployed (😜✌️) i have a lot of free time before i head back to university. So please if anyone has any ideas lmk 🥹

Inspo: Jude and You have been close friends since high school, but after one very drunken night, you admit your feelings for him, right before he leaves for the euro's. When Jude arrives home, he has only one goal, to give you that kiss that you've been waiting for.

Oh, you had royally fucked up.

So royally fucked up that you probably shouldn’t leave the house for at least the next two days, perhaps a week, even a month.

You’d told your best friend that you liked him, in a sweaty club, the night before he was going to the Euros. With the drink loosening your tongue, you blurted it out without thinking. The look on his face said it all; he was stunned into silence.

You and Jude had known each other since high school. He was in the year above you, but you both shared a huge interest in football. While he played for the boys’ squad, you played for the girls’. You got really close in the last year of high school as he began prepping for the under-21s football team while you were preparing for university. You became each other’s anchor, someone you both could rely on, no matter how tough it got. You told each other absolutely everything. So when you blurted out that you liked him, it was as if you had shattered an unspoken rule.

You had been drunk. That was the justification you were giving. You didn’t know what you were thinking; you couldn’t control what was going through your head. You couldn’t face him, not now. The memory of his expression replayed in your mind, a painful reminder.

You had sent him one text message, mentioning nothing about the incident, just wishing him luck in the Euros. Maybe he’d just forget it even happened. After all, he was pretty drunk too.

You had spent all morning preoccupying yourself with your uni work, taking the dog out for a walk, cleaning your room… basically anything to distract from the impending apocalypse. But it was pointless; every other second, you would check the blue tick on the message, with a simple “read” underneath it.

Hey, I hope the head isn’t too sore from last night ahaha. Best of luck in the Euros, I’ll be screaming your name at the local, love ya. (Read)

His response came about three hours later. In that time, you had gone through all five stages of grief. First, Denial: you denied that you even told him, that it was a huge mistake. Anger: you were angry that no one stopped you, as it was an open secret between all of your friends but him, but they had let you blurt it out. Bargaining: maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, you know. You could just say it was a mistake or you didn’t remember. Depression: this would be the end of your friendship—that he’d no longer look at you the same way ever again. Acceptance: your life was doomed, and that was the end of it. However, when his response came, you hadn’t actually prepared yourself.

Yeah, my head’s fine ahaha, though I think you drank more than me in the end. Currently on the way to the airport, Trent says hi. Pretty nervous about the Euros, I can’t lie.

You sat there staring at the three dots, wondering what else he was thinking. You cringed at him mentioning your drunkenness. He not only knew but he must’ve remembered. Oh god, this was going to be awkward.

You didn’t respond, noticing the frequent three dots on his screen going rapidly on and off. Sighing, you attempted to make a joke, quickly sending back a response.

I’m sure Trent is feeling it right now ahaha, how many shots did he have last night again? Don’t be nervous, you’ll be ace!

His reply came almost instantly.

Enough to need a new liver, I’m sure. Thanks for the vote of confidence. We’re about to board, talk later?

You couldn’t help but feel relieved. He wasn’t addressing your confession at all. Maybe he really had chosen to forget about it. Or perhaps he was giving you a way out, a chance to pretend it never happened. Either way, you seized the opportunity.

Sure, have a safe flight! Catch you later.

With that, you put your phone down and took a deep breath. Maybe this wouldn’t ruin everything after all. For now, you’d focus on the positives: Jude was still talking to you, and you still had your friendship, even if it was a little shaken.

The next couple of days were a whirlwind of activity. Jude was swamped with training and media commitments, so your interactions were mostly confined to texts. Despite the busyness, he made sure to check in frequently, sending you updates and little messages that kept the connection alive.

After the Slovakia game, which they won in a nail-biting finish, you received a call from Jude. You could hear the adrenaline in his voice, the excitement of the victory still fresh.

“Hey,” he said, a little breathless. “Did you see the game?”

“Of course I did! You were amazing! That last-minute goal!" you replied, unable to hide the pride in your voice.

“Thanks. It felt good out there tonight. The fans were crazy. Nearly thought we were goners—"

"Nah, I knew you'd pull through."

"Really?" His voice sounded hopeful, as if he had more to say, but instead, he coughed and continued talking. "Uh, listen, there is something I need to talk to you about.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Okay, what’s up?”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about what you said."

"What I said? When?" you responded, your heart beating faster by the minute.

"The night before I went, about you liking me. I thought I could just put it aside and focus on the tournament, but… I can’t.”

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. “Jude…”

“No, let me finish,” he interrupted gently. “I’ve been trying to figure out how I feel. And the truth is, I like you too."

Tears pricked at your eyes. “Really?”

“Yeah. I hope you don't mind, but I told Dec and Trent, and after they completely humbled me, they made me realize—I think I've always had a bit of a thing for you. It’s just… I don’t want to mess this up. I don’t want to lose what we have.”

“You won’t,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “We’ll figure it out together. One step at a time.”

There was a moment of silence, then Jude let out a breath. “Okay. One step at a time. I like the sound of that.”

For the rest of the night, you talked about everything and nothing, letting the conversation flow naturally. The tension from the confession began to dissipate, replaced by a sense of hope and excitement.

The next game was against Switzerland, and you decided to go out to the pub to watch it with a couple of your pals. The place was buzzing with excitement, filled with fans donning jerseys and scarves, and the energy was infectious. As the match began, you found yourself nervously scanning the screen for Jude, your eyes automatically seeking him out every few seconds.

Your friends, of course, noticed.

“Honestly, if you stare any harder, you might burn a hole through the screen,” teased Sarah, nudging you playfully.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the blush that crept up your cheeks. “I’m just… making sure he’s doing okay.”

“Sure, just making sure,” Mark chimed in with a grin. “We all know you’re head over heels.”

“Guys, can we please just focus on the game?” you said, though you couldn’t help but smile.

As the match progressed, every time Jude touched the ball, your heart seemed to leap into your throat. You could hear your friends’ comments in the background, teasing you about how intently you were watching him.

“There he is again, Y/N! Are you taking notes on his every move?” Sarah laughed.

“Come on, give her a break. She’s just a supportive friend,” Mark added, though his tone was dripping with sarcasm.

You tried to ignore them, but the truth was, they weren’t entirely wrong. You were more invested in Jude’s performance than anything else. When he made a particularly brilliant pass, you couldn’t help but cheer louder than anyone else.

“Wow, you’ve got it bad,” Sarah remarked, shaking her head in amusement.

The game was intense, with both teams playing aggressively. Jude was in top form, making crucial plays and demonstrating why he was such an asset to the team. As the game neared its end, with the score tied, the tension in the pub was palpable.

Just then, your phone buzzed with a message from Jude.

Jude: Gaffer gave us 5 minutes, couldn't wait any longer to not text you.

You: What are you doing?! You're supposed to be on the pitch.

Jude: I think this is going to penalties, I feel it.

You quickly typed back, trying to infuse your message with as much confidence as you could muster.

You: Don’t worry, you’ve got this. I believe in you.

There was a brief pause before his next message came through.

Jude: Listen, how about this: if we win, I’ll take you out on a date.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you stared at the screen, rereading his words. A date. With Jude. Your heart was racing now for an entirely different reason.

You: Deal.

The penalties were agonizing to watch. Each kick, each save, each miss, had the entire pub reacting in unison—groans of despair, cheers of relief, gasps of anticipation. You were barely breathing, your eyes fixed on the screen as if willing the ball into the net with sheer force of will.

Jude stepped up to take his shot. The pub fell silent. You could almost hear your own heartbeat. He took a deep breath, ran up, and kicked. The ball sailed past the goalkeeper and into the net. The pub erupted in cheers, and you jumped up, your shout of triumph mingling with everyone else’s.

The penalties continued, and finally, it came down to Trent. The pressure was immense. If he scored, England would win.

The pub fell silent again as Trent prepared for his shot. You could feel the tension in the air, your heart pounding louder than ever. He took his position, focused, ran up, and kicked. The ball flew towards the goal, past the goalkeeper, and hit the back of the net.

The pub exploded in cheers. People were hugging, high-fiving, and celebrating. You couldn’t believe it. They had done it.

Your phone buzzed again.

Jude: We did it! Can’t believe it. Guess I owe you that date ;)

You couldn’t stop smiling, your heart soaring with pride and excitement.

You: You were amazing! We're so proud!! I can't wait x

Jude: Trust me, I’m looking forward to it. See you soon, Y/N.

You spent the rest of the night celebrating with your friends, the victory and Jude’s promise keeping your spirits high. Amidst all the revelry, one thing was clear: your relationship with Jude was about to take a new and thrilling turn.

The next few days were a whirlwind of emotions and excitement. Jude’s team had just secured a 2-1 victory against the Netherlands. The pub you were in was filled with joyous celebration and raucous cheers. You knew Jude would be over the moon, and you couldn’t wait to hear from him.

Soon enough, your phone rang with an incoming call from Jude. You stepped outside, away from the pub’s noise, to answer.

“Hey, Jude!” you answered, your voice bright with excitement. “Congrats on the win!”

“Y/N!” Jude’s voice was noticeably slurred, and you could hear the background noise of a lively celebration. “I can’t believe we did it! We actually won!”

“I know, it was amazing!” you said, smiling. “You were incredible out there.”

“Thanks!” Jude’s words were slightly jumbled. “I’m just so… so buzzed right now! Remember when we were kids and we’d dream about moments like this? It’s really happening!”

“I know, it’s like a dream come true,” you said warmly.

“And you were always… so pretty, you know? I never really understood why you’d hang out with me,” he continued, his voice full of affection. “Everyone loved you, and I was just this goofy football guy.”

You felt a blush rising. “Jude, it didn’t matter. We had so much fun together.”

“Really?” he asked, sounding genuinely surprised. “I always thought… thought you were too good for me. I was just this guy with a big dream, and you were this amazing person who could have been anywhere.”

“Well, I was where I wanted to be,” you said softly. “With you.”

Jude’s voice grew more tender. “I’ve always admired you, Y/N. Even back then, I was captivated by you. The way you carried yourself, the way you looked—it was like you had this light that drew me in. I was always amazed by how stunning you were, both inside and out.”

You could hear Bukayo’s voice faintly in the background. “Jude, mate, turn the phone off. You're pissed-"

Jude chuckled, though his tone remained affectionate. “I can’t help it, Bukayo! Y/N, you have no idea how incredible you are. I mean, just thinking about you—how beautiful you looked back then and how stunning you still are—drives me crazy.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his words. “Jude, you’re making me blush.”

“I’m just speaking the truth,” he said earnestly. “You’ve always been this amazing person, and I’ve been lucky to have you as a friend and now… maybe something more.”

You felt a warm flutter in your chest. “I’m really glad we’re sharing these moments together. It means a lot to me.”

Jude’s voice grew more serious, though still a bit tipsy. “If we keep winning, I want to make sure we celebrate together. I can’t imagine doing it without you.”

“I’d love that,” you said, smiling. “For now, enjoy the celebration. You’ve earned it.”

Jude’s laughter was warm and content. “Alright, I’ll let you go. But I’ll call you again soon, okay?”

“Sure thing. Enjoy the rest of your night, Jude,” you said.

As you ended the call, you couldn’t help but smile. Jude’s heartfelt, tipsy confessions and the sound of his celebration had deepened your connection, making you realize just how much you both meant to each other. The future felt full of promise, and you were excited to see where this new chapter would lead.

When England lost 2-1 to Spain, the crushing disappointment was felt by everyone, especially Jude. As he and the team made their way back, he couldn't shake the feeling of defeat.

You, back home, had been anxiously awaiting any word from him. After a few hours, you decided to check in, hoping he was doing okay.

You: Hey Jude, are you alright? Just wanted to check in.

A few minutes later, your phone buzzed with a message from Jude. The text was brief, but the words were heavy with the weight of the loss.

Jude: Not great, honestly. It's been a rough night.

You felt a pang of sadness reading his message.

You could picture him, lost in thought, longing for comfort.

You: I'm so sorry, Jude. I wish I could be there with you too. You wanna hang out tomorrow? Watch a crappy horror movie and crash on my sofa?

The reply came back quickly.

Jude: Sure. I could use a little cheer up. I'd better go, journalists want a chat before we board.

You stared at the phone, hoping your words brought him some measure of comfort. You knew how much this loss meant to him, and how hard he had worked for this moment. The idea of him being alone in his thoughts broke your heart a little more.

You wanted to do something special for him, something that would show him just how much you cared. An idea started to form in your mind, and you sprang into action.

First, you pulled out his favorite hoodie from the closet. It was slightly oversized on you, but it felt like a warm hug. You wore it while you tidied up the apartment, making sure everything was perfect for when he got home.

Then, you went into the kitchen to start cooking his favorite meal. The process was therapeutic, each stir of the pot a way to channel your nervous energy. As the aromas filled the room, you felt a little more at peace, knowing that you were doing something to help him, even from afar.

As the hours ticked by, you kept checking your phone, hoping for any update on his flight. Finally, a message popped up.

Jude: Just landed. See you soon

Your heart skipped a beat. You quickly finished setting the table, dimming the lights to create a cozy atmosphere. You lit a few candles, their soft glow adding a touch of warmth to the room.

When you heard the key in the lock, you rushed to the door, your heart pounding with anticipation. As the door opened, there he was, looking exhausted but so incredibly relieved to see you.

Without a word, he dropped his bags and pulled you into a tight embrace. You held him close, feeling the tension slowly drain from his body as he buried his face in your neck.

"I missed you so much," he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion.

"I missed you too, Jude," you replied softly, running your fingers through his hair. "I'm so glad you're home."

He pulled back slightly to look at you, his eyes filled with gratitude. "You have no idea how much this means to me. Thank you."

You smiled, cupping his face in your hands. "Come on, I made your favorite dinner. Let's sit down and talk about everything."

Later on, after you had let him get everything off his chest, you decided to watch a movie, something that would probably become background noise. As the movie played, you and Jude sat side by side on the couch, the tension between you that seemed to dance in time with the flickering images. You could feel the heat of his body next to yours, and every time your arms or legs brushed, a jolt of electricity shot through you.

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye.

He was staring at the screen, but you could tell his mind was elsewhere. The furrow in his brow, the way his jaw tightened, the constant fidgeting-he was still wrestling with the aftermath of the game.

You wished there was something you could do to ease his mind.

As if sensing your thoughts, he turned to you, his eyes softening. "I'm sorry I've been a grumpy sod."

You smiled, feeling a flutter in your chest. "No, don't be. I'm your friend!" You smirk a little as you made eye contact with him for the first time that night. "I'm just glad you're here."

The movie continued, but the air between you grew thicker with unspoken words and emotions.

"Listen. About what I said-"

"We don't have too-"

"No we should! Because, i know I've been swept up with all of the euro's but- I meant what i said. I like you."

"I like you too."

You could feel his gaze lingering on you more frequently, and each time you met his eyes, it was like a silent conversation passed between you.

"Do you remember the last time we watched a movie together?" he asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

You chuckled softly. "Yeah, you fell asleep halfway through."

He grinned, the first genuine smile you'd seen from him all night. "I was exhausted. You have a way of making me feel very relaxed. Always have done."

"It's a very good thing," he replied, his voice low.

You felt a shiver run down your spine at the intensity in his eyes. The movie, now a distant background noise, was all but forgotten. The distance between you seemed to shrink with each passing second.

"Jude..." you began, but the words caught in your throat. "I-." His eyes looked up and down at your lips as you settled into his embrace. He looks for any uncertainty before he continues.

"You make me feel seen. Like I can't hide anything from you. It's scary really-"

"Is that so-" you smile, your eyes casting over his lips.

"Mhmm. You make me such a good person-"

"Jude, just kiss me already." You laugh. He smiles instinctively,

He reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against your cheek. "Can I...?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, unable to form a coherent response.

Your heart pounded in your chest as he leaned in, his breath warm against your skin. The world seemed to hold its breath as your lips finally met in a soft, tentative kiss.

It was like a spark igniting a fire, the kiss quickly deepening with a hunger that had been building all night. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss grew more intense.

You responded in kind, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pressed against him, the kiss growing more intense. His lips were insistent, exploring yours with a desperate need. You could feel his heartbeat against your chest, mirroring your own racing pulse.

Jude's hands roamed, tracing the curve of your back, sending shivers down your spine. Your skin felt electrified wherever he touched, each caress igniting a new wave of desire. You gasped as his lips left yours, trailing hot kisses down your neck, nibbling and sucking gently at the sensitive skin.

"Jude," you moaned softly, your fingers tightening in his hair. He groaned in response, the sound vibrating against your throat as he continued his exploration, his hands slipping under your shirt to caress the bare skin of your back.

Your breath hitched when his lips found the hollow of your collarbone, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin. You arched into him, your body responding instinctively to his touch. The heat between you was almost unbearable, a consuming fire that threatened to engulf you both.

When you finally broke apart, gasping for breath, you looked into his eyes and couldn't help but smile. "Do you know how long l've wanted to do that?" you whispered, your voice filled with a mix of relief and desire.

Jude chuckled, resting his forehead against yours.

"Probably as long as I have," he replied, his breath warm against your lips.

You both knew this was just the beginning, but for now, the world outside could wait. All that mattered was the two of you, tangled in each other's arms, finally giving in to the desire that had been simmering between you for so long.

#fanfiction #jude bellingham #leah williamson #womens world cup #england football #englandwomensfootball #womens football #football fanfic #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x you #judebellingham x footballreader #jude bellingham fanfic #judebellingham #Jude Bellingham fanfiction #euro 2024 #englandfootball #fanfic #footballer x reader #football imagine

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goodnightoilcountry · 7 months ago

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jo's nhl fic rec list !

hi - welcome to my attempt at being a fic writer again. i have a wip list in the works but first things first: my fic rec list of all the works i've found and adored.

if you don't know yet, you will know soon that i am such a sucker for angst. i hope you find something new to love from the list below !

how to navigate

i update this list weekly (try to) and place all the new fic recs at the top under NEW.

when searching for a specific player, they will always be listed under their current team.

* updated monday 4 november 2024 *

weekly note: updating this in an uber to work - oops ! p.s. i need some new players to read for so pretty please give me your recs !

like my selection of fic recs? have a player who's not been featured? let me know and i'll go on a deep dive for you!

NEW

the apartment we won't share (jack hughes) by @aleskie-hischier summary: two years after you and Jack break up, you find yourself thinking about him. word count: 1.3k

wishes come true pt1 + pt2 + pt3 + pt4 + pt5 (nico hischier) by @sweethischier summary: everyone around you was certain that you were going to fall in love with the one you called your best friend. It was only right, they said, it was practically written in the stars, but little did they know that he would bring you to the one you truly wanted. Meeting Nico Hischier was never something you had seen coming, but when you did, everything you thought you knew about love changed. You thought it was simple and it was easy, that feeling the way you felt about him could only bring you joy when in fact it brought you nothing but confliction. You spent more time speaking to the stars, making wishes you only hoped would come true one day. Do your wishes come true, or are you harshly reminded that not everyone has the happy ending they hoped for? total word count: 35k

no caller id (jack hughes) by @withwritersblock summary: Y/N and Jack broke up several months ago but he keeps crawling back and her friends are sick of it. word count: 1.4k

he set my house on fire, you lit my heart ablaze; when the smoke cleared, you stayed, coughing up ash with me (jack hughes) by @angelwithdemonictendencies summary: the revenge plot doesn't go as planned (ft. ex-fiance am34). word count: 12.9k

wish we were older (matthew tkachuk) by @sorryjustafangirl summary: 4 times matthew wished he was older and one time he didn't. word count: 4k

FIC REC MASTERLIST

total number of fics: 168

anaheim ducks fic rec list players: trevor zegras

carolina canes fic rec list players: andrei svechnikov - jack drury - pyotr kotchekov - sebastian aho - seth jarvis - tyson jost

colorado avs fic rec list players: cale makar - nathan mackinnon

detroit red wings fic rec list players: jt compher

florida panthers fic rec list players: matthew tkachuk

nashville preds fic rec list players: brady skjei

new jersey devils fic rec list players: jack hughes - luke hughes - nico hischier

new york islanders fic rec list players: mat barzal - matt martin

philadelphia flyers fic rec list players: erik johnson - jamie drysdale

pittsburgh penguins fic rec list players: anthony beauvillier - michael bunting - sidney crosby

toronto maple leafs fic rec list players: auston matthews - mitch marner - william nylander

utah hc fic rec list players: clayton keller

vancouver canucks fic rec list players: arturs silovs - brock boeser - quinn hughes

ALL OUR WONDERFUL WRITERS

thank you to all the incredible fic writers on this godforsaken app ! i am always so in awe of how creative people are and am constantly inspired by your minds ! i can't wait to find more of you on here 🤍

@43-hugs @adoristsposts @austonwithan-o @babydollmarauders @bagopucks @bedsyandco @behoright @bitchinbarzal @blueskrugs @bqstqnbruin @cellythefloshie @chewingcyanide @comphersjost @comphy-and-cozy @doc-pickles @eyesthatroll @fallinallincurls @happer08 @hischierdevils @hischierhoney @hockeyboistrash @hockeywhy @hockey-fics @hockey-hoe-24-7 @holy-pucks @hookingminor @huggybug @hugshughes @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 @islesnucks @itsjusthockey @ladylooch @letsgetrowdy43 @marnerparty @matthewtkachuk @mattyanonwrites @matwith1t @mendeshoney @misshoneyimhome @mrsensitive @nhlclover @ohmyeyesmyeyes @pennylanefics @prettytoxicrevolver @pucksnsticksnhockeyboys @silovsmenot @starry-hughes @senditcolton @silverstonesainz-archive @stormsplurge @sunkissed-zegras @sunnyskiesscareme @sydnikov @thatintrovertedwriter @theemporium @thewintersoldierdisaster @undertaurus @unluckyhoneybee @withwritersblock @yelenasdog @youunravelme

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dustofthedailylife · 8 months ago

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You were not supposed to hear that...yet

→ Masterlist || → Taglist

Pairing: Alhaitham x (gn!) Reader

Summary: Alhaitham reveals a secret about the inner workings of his heart to his friends over a cup of wine and in between some banter. However, he did not expect it would go this wrong...

Tags: Fluff, crack, comfort, teasing, consumption of alcohol (by characters), the whole 4ggravate crew is here, friendly banter between friends, a small sprinkle of angst because reader is insecure (but it's unjustified)

A/N: Dust posting a new fic?! Not an April Fool's joke, despite the date! Finally felt inspired and well enough again to finish this fic that has been rotting in my WIPs forever. I hope you like it. And feel free to hit me up with asks and reblogs - it'd motivate me greatly after my long break 🥺

The usual friend group of Cyno, Kaveh, Tighnari, and him - Alhaitham, was sitting at the Tavern. A gathering like it happened almost every weekend at this point.

The wine bottle on the table had been emptied around two or three times already when Kaveh ordered a new one yet again. At this point, Alhaitham had actually lost count of how many glasses of wine he'd already had, too. But one thing was for certain, he could feel the alcohol in his system and the warm blood that was rushing to his cheeks. All things considered though, despite feeling a little tipsy from the intoxication, he was still able to think clearly.

"Let me guess I'm the one who will have to end up covering your bill again?" He took sarcastic a jab at Kaveh.

The man in question just squinted his eyes and glared daggers at him before opening his mouth in an attempt to protest before it was quickly shot down by Tighnari's hand covering it.

Alhaitham leisurely leaned back in his chair smirking to himself, training his focus back onto the TCG cards in his hands and considering his next turn of action in the game he was playing against Cyno.

"What, am I just supposed to take it all the time and be quiet?!" Kaveh retorted, directed at Tighnari. The fox's ears were beginning to droop lower and lower as his expression became more and more deadpan.

"You all know as well as I do that if [Y/N] was here he wouldn't be acting like this. He would be on his best behavior and pay for the drinks without so much as complaining or being so cocky."

"By the way," Tighnari attempted to divert the attention away from Kaveh's ranting. "Where are they? Didn't you say they wanted to stop by the Tavern as well today, Alhaitham?"

Alhaitham played his round, throwing his card Cyno's way before looking up at Tighnari again.

"They mentioned it but I suppose something must've come up instead. I will ask tomorrow."

"Isn't it strange?" Kaveh addressed the others. "Whenever it involves [Y/N] he graciously offers himself up to talk to them and seek them out but whenever someone else is looking for him he is nowhere to be found."

"Maybe you just can't find me because I simply don't have anything to discuss with you." Alhaitham threw another jab at Kaveh with a smirk, which was promptly followed by a light punch against his bicep by the blonde architect.

"What? I constantly have to talk to you already when we're at ho-"

"SHHH! Don't say that out loud." Kaveh hissed, quickly covering Alhaitham's mouth in panic, since he didn’t want him to spell out that they were currently living together. “It's embarrassing enough that I currently have no other choice, no need to add to my misery.”

A witty quip was burning at the tip of Alhaitham's tongue after Kaveh's remark yet again, but he decided to swallow it. He didn't want to upset him too much, especially since he knew he'd had it rough lately. Even if it would've been said in jest, there was no need to add insult to injury. Instead, he simply resorted to taking another sip of his wine with a low chuckle and a glance in the blonde architect’s direction.

“Aaaaanyway…”, Tighnari cleared his throat, addressing Alhaitham once more. “What is it between [Y/N] and you anyway? You've become quite close haven't you?”

“That's an understatement.” Kaveh groaned, dropping his head on his folded arms on the table dramatically. “He can't stop talking about them. Day in and day out it’s [Y/N]-this, [Y/N]-that.”

“We started working on a project about six months ago. Things are progressing quite smoothly if I do say so myself. Certainly makes things easier if you're working with someone who is both hardworking and intelligent in every way. I’ve been lucky to have been assigned to the project with them.” Alhaitham answered Tighnari’s question rationally while ignoring Kaveh’s dramatic display.

“Here he goes again.” Kaveh huffed, directing his comment at Cyno and Tighnari. “Whenever he talks about them you hear nothing but praises.”

“If someone is doing a great job, is it not logical to give them the credit they deserve?” Alhaitham added matter of factly.

“No… I mean yes, but no. It's just not something I'd see you doing. It’s so out of character.” Kaveh huffed. “And before you say anything, yes, maybe I just don't know that side of you because I don't give you any reason to praise me. No need to add that, thank you.”

Kaveh poked his tongue out at Alhaitham before taking a big sip from his wine.

“Why, if you want to be praised you just need to say so, Kaveh. I think you're quite brilliant - your shortcomings aside.” He just had to add that last bit. Kaveh was just way too easy to tease. And what would this friend group be without the playful banter and jabs at each other?

Kaveh choked on the drink immediately and slammed his cup down onto the table with a loud clang. A fire burned behind his crimson eyes when he spoke next.

“This is exactly what I meant, thanks for proving my point!”

Kaveh looked at Cyno and Tighnari gesturing in the direction of Alhaitham with a move that said “Do you see what I mean now?”.

Tighnari just facepalmed and shook his head.

“And what is your point exactly?” Cyno inquired, playing a card from his hand.

“Did you not listen to what he said?” Kaveh gasped.

“Not really,” Cyno admitted honestly, his eyes trained back on the cards in his hands.

“It's the fact that he can praise others too, but never without also pointing out their faults in the same sentence. Did no one ever notice that? However, he never does that when it's [Y/N].” Kaveh explained.

“And?” Tighnari and Cyno replied in unison, looking puzzled as to where Kaveh wanted to go with this.

Kaveh put his head in his hand and groaned in frustration. “Sometimes you all make me feel like I am surrounded by idiots.”

Now everyone raised their eyebrows at him.

“You're all so clueless… anyway.” He sighed dramatically and accusingly pointed a finger at Alhaitham. “This guy. This admittedly handsome but blockheaded, know-it-all, stoic, annoying-”

“Get to the point.” Alhaitham chided, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Fine, fine." Kaveh spread his arms like he was holding a presentation and Alhaitham his canvas.

“This guy's right here, as alien as it may sound – has fallen in love.”

“You're in love?!” Cyno exclaimed his eyes widening. “With who?!”

Tighnari rolled his eyes, knowing full well Cyno hadn't listed at all the past ten minutes because he had been so absorbed in his cards, and gently slapped the back of his head.

“[Y/N], of course!” The Forest Ranger exclaimed with a huff.

Cyno, now rubbing the back of his head just ushered a “Wait really?” while Kaveh and Tighnari just curiously began eyeing Alhaitham in the hope of seeing any type of confirmation on his face. However, it stayed as unreadable as ever.

He nonchalantly took another sip of wine from his cup while leisurely looking back and forth between the cards on the table and the ones in his hand before playing another turn as if this conversation just now hadn't happened.

“So!?” Kaveh asked, almost hysterically at this point. “Do you intend to enlighten us?”

Just how had he gotten into this situation now? Alhaitham suppressed a sigh before turning to Cyno: “Your turn. Two of your cards are down.”

“Archons!” Cyno cussed, immediately attempting to go back to study his cards but a fist slammed the table harshly, drawing all attention to it.

Tighnari flinched in shock and Cyno, too seemed to be pulled back to reality. Kaveh’s hand was trembling slightly, visibly agitated.

“Stop changing the subject, Alhaitham. The more you keep avoiding answering the question the more I think I am right in my assumptions.”

Alhaitham pinched the bridge of his nose beginning to truly feel a little stressed by Kaveh’s insistance. The man was truly too nosy for his good.

“Kaveh, just let it be if he doesn’t-” Tighnari began before being cut off by Alhaitham.

“And what if you are right? What then, Kaveh?”

Everyone at the table fell silent and everyone was staring at him with a mix of disbelief and shock.

He hadn't planned to reveal any of this yet, especially since he feared they would try to become his wingman. Which, admittedly, may be a nice gesture on paper but with them it could only end in disaster. Plus he would prefer to deal with his feelings alone first and think them through thoroughly, before talking about them with anyone. Besides, it should be you, if anyone, who should hear about them first - alas he was too deep into this now to weasel his way out.

“What?!” Kaveh’s mouth hung open in shock.

“So it is true then?” Cyno inquired, putting the card in his hand down on the table, now suddenly fully hooked on the tea that was being spilled.

“Hold on. Pause.” Kaveh sat upright, before quickly gazing over Alhaitham’s shoulder. “So you-”

“For Archon’s sake.” Alhaitham was beginning to get annoyed because he didn't know how much clearer he had to become for them to get it. “Yes - I’ve been in love with them. For a while now-”

“Alhaitham-” Kaveh tried to interject.

“No, don't interrupt me now, you pestered me about it for the past twenty minutes now you'll have to listen. I have never met anyone who is so hardworking, intelligent, and stunning in any way. Of course, I would be infatuated with a person like them. It would be hard not to fall for them.”

“Uhm Alhai–” Kaveh laughed awkwardly before being interrupted by Alhaitham’s ongoing monologue once more.

“At first I wasn't sure about it but I am now. I am thinking about them first thing in the morning and last thing when I go to sleep - unless you're hammering away on some project again that keeps me awake, Kaveh.”

Kaveh waved for him to shut up already but Alhaitham didn't let that bother him. If he wanted the full story with all the details - he'd get it. He hoped that would get this discussion out of the way once and for all.

“And guess what? They even remembered how I liked my coffee just after I told them once and gifted me a book that I had been trying to find for weeks. So yes, Kaveh. I love [Y/N]. There, does that suffice now, or?”

Kaveh let out a squeal as soon as Alhaitham had stopped speaking but upon further inspection of his expression, it hadn't been one of excitement but rather pure terror and awkwardness.

“Alhaitham…” Cyno and Tighnari said in unison and he only then noticed as well how their gaze was trained on a spot behind him.

“What?” Alhaitham inquired, curling a brow up in confusion before all three men pointed their fingers at something behind him.

When he turned his head around to look at what they were trying to show him, he felt his heart drop to his stomach for the first time in ages.

To his utter shock, you were standing right behind him. Or rather, you were frozen in place, your hand still half lifted in greeting as if you had just been about to greet the lot of them. Your mouth was slightly open in shock still and your pupils were but the size of pinpricks and transfixed on Alhaitham.

And judging by your reaction you must've heard every last word he had said.

“I-I…” You started stammering, clearly confused about what you had just heard. “I uh-, I'll head back home.”

You abruptly turned around on your heel and marched straight out the Tavern door you had just come through as if someone was chasing you.

Alhaitham hadn't moved a muscle ever since he had spotted you standing behind him and he looked like he was frozen in place. Everyone at the table had fallen so silent, one would've been able to hear a needle drop.

Alhaitham's eyes were still fixed on the door you had left through. The little bell that chimed every time the Tavern door hit it on the way in or out was still dangling lightly from the impact. But the movement was dying down slowly but surely - just like Alhaitham, who felt like someone had dropped a boulder on his chest.

You were not supposed to hear that, yet.

“You uh…, Alhaitham you should probably follow them.” Tighnari was the first to speak again. He awkwardly scratched behind his ears. Cyno hummed in agreement while Kaveh just sat there with his mouth wide open.

Alhaitham exhaled in frustration, unable to properly place his emotions. But they were somewhere between unsettled, nervous, and discomforted.

When he got up it felt like someone had tied heavy iron blocks to his ankles that were weighing him down.

“Yeah, I guess I do,” Alhaitham muttered before marching off.

When you stormed outside the Tavern the cool evening breeze gnawed at your skin and made goosebumps erupt all over. Although you weren't quite sure if it was the temperature or your emotional turmoil at play here.

There was no way Alhaitham had just said that and actually meant it. He wouldn't be the type of man to flat-out admit that he had feelings for anyone. Or would he? He had been talking to his closest friends after all.

You were questioning your sense of reality and thought you must've fabricated it all in your mind. Or maybe you misheard what he said and he was talking about something else entirely.

But no, he said your name, and the others looked panicked when you entered the tavern and approached the table.

As you rushed through the streets of Sumeru City the chilly wind kept whipping in your face. Not even you knew where you were going at this point. You simply went where your feet were carrying you.

But eventually, you realized you had run up the Akademiya and to the blue-green mosaic pavilion that glistened in the last rays of sunlight. The spot at which you and Alhaitham often spent your lunch break together.

You sunk down on the bench exhaustedly and stared holes in the ground.

No way.

There was just no way.

Alhaitham. The man you had fallen for so hard that he had begun to occupy every waking thought you had. That man was supposed to have feelings for you and had just flat-out admitted it?

No, this simply had to be a dream. A bad joke. Or maybe even a bet between the group that they orchestrated to prank you.

You could feel your heart thumping in your head and it felt like your head was swimming. It was as if you had downed an entire bottle of wine by yourself, but you were as sober as one could be.

Yes, that had to be it. It was a bet between the boys over one too many cups of wine and they had all acted their parts out flawlessly.

You got up again walking to the railing, overlooking Sumeru city that shone majestically in the last remaining rays of sunshine that the day had to offer. Another gush of wind blew your way, making tears well up in your eyes. Although it may have also been your emotions who were to blame for that instead.

You inhaled deeply. Once. Twice. But nothing seemed to help calming the rapidly beating heart in your chest.

In your daze, you completely missed how someone had quietly come up to the pavilion as well.

Alhaitham leaned against the railing himself, looking over the city in silence, too. He was clearly ringing for words. Although you assumed the wrong reason for his struggle.

“Look,” you began, trying your hardest to suppress the tremble in your voice. “If you came here to apologize - please, spare me your words.”

He looked at you opening his mouth before closing it again right after with a silent nod. His cheeks were dusted in a light pink shade - you assumed it was caused by the alcohol he had downed at the tavern with the others.

“I hope that we can go back to normal tomorrow and just finish our project. I’d prefer if we kept our distance after that. I think it’s for the best” The words left your mouth at normal speed, but it felt like you had to force every single one out. They felt tenacious, like old chewing gum that you tried to pull out from in between your teeth.

“I understand.” He stated calmly before retraining his gaze back into the distance.

You both kept standing next to each other in silence for a long while before you decided to confront him about it directly. You eventually decided it was for the best if you got things off your chest now so that you could get over him quickly. Ripping it off like a band-aid would hopefully give you the relief you so desperately craved right now.

“You know,” you began. “I don’t know who came up with the idea and I also don’t care, no need to tell me. But you guys should never do this to anyone again because you never know how much it might end up hurting someone else’s feelings.”

Alhaitham stood upright and turned to face you directly. He crossed his arms over his chest and slightly cocked his head like he always did when he was thinking about something you said.

After a momentary pause, he asked: “What do you mean?”

“I mean that you shouldn’t toy with someone’s feelings as a prank. It’s never actually funny for anyone but the people who orchestrate such a prank. No matter if the other person reciprocates the feelings or whether they believe the statement, they always end up being the one who is being ridiculed.” You explained as rationally as possible, which was a stark contrast to the tempest that was raging both inside of your heart and mind.

“Especially when the person hoped to hear those exact words for the longest time, too…” You added. It wasn't more than an utterance under your breath - so quietly it was barely audible. But Alhaitham heard nonetheless.

“But I meant everything I said.” He stated matter of factly, seemingly catching on to the fact that you must’ve assumed the wrong things about the whole situation.

“What?! Alhaitham, please, there is no need to add insult to injury. You had your fun now–”

“No.” He gently took your hands in his, exhaling heavily. “Archons, you weren’t supposed to find out like this.”

He rarely swore which made the impact of his words even stronger.

“I wanted to tell you face to face and was waiting for the right moment to do so. But, just know that every word you heard and everything I said back at the tavern was the truth. No bet or scheme made me say it. Not that anyone would be able to make me say these things in the first place.” He sighed once more, giving your hands an emphasizing squeeze. “I meant it.”

“You did?”

“Every word.”

You felt the blood rush to your face and immediately lowered your gaze in an attempt to hide your flusteredness.

“Had I known this would happen, I would’ve told you everything right from the start. I don’t like how this went now but–”, he moved his hands up to cup your face. His beautiful turquoise eyes trained on no one but you.

“I’m absolutely certain I like you. You drive me crazy. And I love and hate how much you occupy every waking thought of mine because I can’t focus on anything when you’re around. And when you’re not, you’re still always on my mind. So please – be mine.”

Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife || reblogs, comments, and asks about Genshin or my fics are always greatly appreciated and motivate me! Maple dividers are mine - do not copy.

#genshin impact #astronetwrk #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #alhaitham x reader #al haitham x reader #alhaitham x y/n #genshin fluff #genshin crack #genshin alhaitham #genshin x y/n #genshin impact fanfic #genshin drabbles #genshin scenarios #genshin brainrot #genshin headcanons #🍁 dust writes #🍁彡 gi

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strnilolo · 1 year ago

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clumsy girl

summary: matt’s girlfriend is rather clumsy.

warnings: cursing, use of y/n, kisses kinda, jokes about death, idk what else. lowercase intentional

an: i kinda don’t like this one guys. BUT this won the vote so ask and you shall receive.

an2: i do have some requests guys and im very sorry that i haven’t gotten to them, its just hard for me to get motivated unless i have a really good idea for a fic and can play it out in my head. but i will be working on requests i promise.

|navigation|

you and matt are sat on the couch together, aimlessly scrolling through your phones. matt leans his head on your shoulder before giggling slightly, sitting upright next to you.

“look at this video, isn’t this funny?” matt moves his phone in front of you, scrolling to restart the video.

you watch as different clips cut across the screen, laughing lightly to yourself. the video had been a compilation of matt saving you from falling, hitting your head, hurting yourself, etc.

“you’re so clumsy, huh? always need me to save you” matt smirks at your annoyed expression.

“i am not that clumsy, matthew, you’ve probably tripped and fallen more times than me” you roll your eyes as you sit back against your teasing boyfriend.

“well.. what about that one time at dinner, or the time you almost tripped up the stairs?”

matt went on and on about the different times he was your ‘knight in shining armor.’

two months ago

“okay guys now we’re going to be decorating the cupcakes and our lovely mother is going to be trying them and rating them 1-10” you listened patiently as nick loudly addressed the camera, informing the viewers of our next step.

“oh shit” your tube of icing dropped onto the floor right as the clip began rolling. you quickly bend to the side to grab the tube as matt reached his hand to cover the corner of the table, protecting your head from bashing into it. sitting up, you thank matt for his help before continuing to decorate your cupcake.

currently

“oh my god, i actually do remember that. people were making edits for weeks” the two of you laughed at the fond memory, before matt began to speak again.

“do you remember the time you almost fell down the stairs during our house tour?”

“oh please don’t remind me” groaning at the embarrassing image in your head.

several months earlier

“okay so now y/n is going to lead us upstairs to the room we share” matt followed behind you, talking to the camera as the vlog went on.

“oh fuck!” you grip onto the railing, feeling yourself slip on the wooden staircase.

“jesus y/n-” you feel matt’s hand on your back, steadying you on the stairs before he releases his grip, allowing you to continue up.

“you have got to be more careful, you could’ve killed us all” nick laughs from behind matt, dramatically grasping onto the rail.

“whatever, thanks matt” you smile at the boy, playfully rolling your eyes.

“okay guys so we made it upstairs, barely, now to show you where i sleep” matt faces the camera towards you as the four of you continue to vlog a tour of your shared living space.

currently

“jesus, that was embarrassing” you cover your face with your hands in attempt to hide your blush.

“no it wasn’t, you just don’t want the world to see that you’d die without me” matt pulls your hands from your face, playfully placing kisses around your forehead and cheeks.

“i guess i would die without you, huh?”

“a very painfully and stupid death, yes” the two of you laugh at the memories, enjoying the little amount of quality time you’re able to get.

| likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated|

| 🏷️ @strniolosworld @bananabread-nana @abbie13sworld @mxqdii |

ps i do not consent to my work being stolen, translated, or posted on any other website without my permission

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desireangel · 2 months ago

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Infernal Desires | Part Two

Aemond Targaryen x fem!Reader

Part One

Synopsis: When your family is caught up in treasonous scandal, the Prince Regent makes an offer that is impossible to refuse. To avoid what certainly would have been death by his sword, your family promises you to a man who is followed by whispers of violence and sin.

Warnings: mdni 18+ ONLY! Aemond is conflicted, bad language, some religious guilt if you really squint, some fingering wooop, tension, orgasm denial, inconsistent writing my bad, Aemond's response and defence mechanisms are to fake hatred, this man hates feelings, allusions to sex, allusions to death and killing, again Aemond is angry handsy, a bitch gets slapped bc sometimes violence IS the answer. unedited (shock).

Word Count: 4.9k

A/N: look, I know y'all were hoping for an update on Dark Cherry instead but hey, this one happened along first! I have been swamped with work at my new job (LOVE) and an exam that's in two days sooooo this is my apology for the delay in updates for both fics! Lmk your thoughts & ideas - inbox is always open to chat my loves

xoxo kisses!! <3

Masterlist

Weeks had passed and Aemond had been acting as if you were nonexistent. He had ignored your attempts at talking to him, pretended he couldn’t hear the constant questions that you asked about what you were you doing here and why are you here if no formal arrangements to be wed have been made as was promised?

Truth be told, Aemond was having second thoughts. He had acted irrationally in making the deal. Jericho may have been someone he loved as a confidant and a friend but truly, he could have simply had him hanged without blinking an eye. Treason is treason and Aemond certainly would not stand for it but here you were, waiting outside of his own chambers with a fierceness in your eyes that managed to catch him by surprise.

Without saying a word, Aemond stood in front of you and waited for you to speak.

“I was supposed to become your wife last week,” You avoided letting your anger at being strung along seep into your tone. “Instead, you have imprisoned me within the walls of the Keep and avoid me like I am some sort of disease.” Stepping towards him, you shook off the nerves that had your stomach in knots. “I tried to visit the town yesterday. Your kingsguard stopped me from leaving. Said you told them that I am not to exit the grounds.”

Aemond was calm. “That is exactly what I told them.”

“You said I could visit home when I please.”

A shrug that had his pin-straight hair dancing softly. “I lied.”

“Well,” you glared at him, staring him down with as much contempt as you could muster. “You best start telling the truth-”

“Do not,” Aemond’s spat, a departure from his usual slow and commanding drawl. You wondered whether he resented you such that he wouldn’t be able to reign back the worst of himself around you. “speak to me like that. I have warned you that I will not tolerate disrespect. Not from the likes of you-”

Your hand met his cheek before you realised what was happening. It wasn’t hard and Aemond barely flinched more than the slight turn of his head but your hand burned hot at the satisfying mistake that had just been made. Pushing down the fear that bubbled in your gut, you squared your shoulders and spoke firmly. “You have me brought here as a bargaining tool for my family’s lives. To force me into wedding you. And now that I am here and we are betrothed, you refuse to do so. Is there honour to your word or are we all to face execution instead?”

You had caught the side of his bad eye and a dull ache pulsed behind his eyepatch. He all but growled, grasping your wrists tightly in his hands and hunching over you, casting a dark shadow across your face.

Aemond was red with frustration and you were half aware that angering him would not turn out well. But you were not going to cower and fold to the power that he held over you - over everyone. He may be the current ruler of Westeros to its citizens but the two of you had spent some moments of your childhood together and you knew what kind of man he was past the charade of coldness and stoicism. Arrogant, greedy, entitled and selfish.

He knew that he shouldn’t take your behaviour lightly - that were it anyone else, he’d have dished it right back. But admittedly or not, you had caught Aemond off guard. He wasn’t expecting you to have the gall to hit him.

Part of him–he would never, ever entertain the fact that it was actually most of him–enjoyed it. Your inability to control yourself and your emotions around him was entirely satisfying. And Aemond loved to watch how you cowered in fear at the realisation of your actions and that he was at all liberty to decide on their consequences.

All the while, and you couldn’t help but think he looked terrifyingly handsome in his anger, though the right corner of his lips upturned gently. “You should appreciate the generosity I have shown you. I hardly understand how you are making a problem out of this.”

“Generosity?” You scoffed. “You’re keeping me prisoner.”

Aemond’s expression was blank, the strands of hair that had come loose at the swipe of your hand on his cheek casting shadows of his face as he let out a snarl. The leather of his meticulously tailored tunic brushed against your hand and before you knew it, he guided you into his chambers with a strong push that had you stumbling inside.

“Since you’re so ungrateful, I will show you what it means to be a prisoner in my home,” Aemond spoke with a slow, rumbling tone. “You are not to leave without my permission. Try to run away and I will have you punished.”

And with that, he left you to yourself, slamming the door harshly behind him. The click of the lock was barely drowned out by your protests, palms smacking against the wood of the door.

How dare he?

Tears welled in your eyes but even in your own company, you refused to let them fall. The ache in your chest for the freedom to visit home, to walk the gardens and to see your friends was overwhelming. You hadn’t been here long and you knew that the Red Keep was a luxury far beyond what you were used to but the feeling of confinement ate you alive.

This was not fair. You had done him no wrong. In fact, his hatred towards you was entirely unwarranted and everything seemed so, so unfair. His problem wasn’t with you - it was with Jericho and your father. So why did Aemond have so much rage for you?

If this was to be your prison cell then you were fortunate, you thought. At least he didn’t send you down to the dungeons or to whatever place was made for those who crossed the Prince Regent.

If you were being honest with yourself, you knew Jericho and your father had been lying to you. It made no sense - in fact, it was a ridiculous excuse that they had given you. You weren’t stupid - there was no marriage that could possibly fulfil the extent of Jericho’s debt nor to save your family’s already tarnished reputation.

So why were you here? You had your own doubts. Not only had you spent the last weeks with little more to do than think but hours had passed alone in this cage since your confrontation with Aemond.

Jericho had said you were only a part of whatever bargain he had struck. You figured that Aemond had use for Jericho and here you were, a token of control over your family. So long as he had you here, Jericho would have to do whatever it was that Aemond needed him to do free of question.

The sound of the door lock clicking pulled you out of your thoughts. Merylle, the maid who had been assigned to you much to your surprise, didn’t bother knocking before stepping inside with her arms full of–gowns?

“The Prince Regent wishes for me to get you ready,” she said. “You’ll be attending the feast we are hosting tonight.”

A feast? While we were all at war?

A message.

You eyed the gown that Merylle laid down on your bed before rushing towards your wardrobe to put away the others that she held. From what you could see of the gown, it was unlike any dress you’d ever had the chance to wear.

“I am truly to wear this?”

The look she gave was answer enough. “I will run you a bath first. And then I shall help you into the dress.”

You quickly washed up, half tempted to take your time but Merylle was waiting for you and you didn’t intend for her to fall victim to your antics. There was a matching night dress that had been laid out with the dress - if you could call it that - and you scoffed at the idea of wearing it.

Did all the other women at court have negligee to match their day clothes?

Clutching the towel to your chest, you ignored the smallclothes that were also laid out. You were already sweating from stress. Before Merylle could turn around, you shrugged on a robe and turned to do your own hair.

Merylle pottered about, seemingly displeased with your insistence on doing your minimal hair and makeup yourself. She helped you step into your dress, adjusting the fabric wherever it needed. “Perfect, my Lady.”

“Please, you do not need to address me formally,” you corrected.

You stared at your reflection in the mirror.

Fuck.

The gown was a perfect fit. It was a deep emerald green silk gown which cinched at your waist before falling loosely yet gracefully from your hips. The bust was stiff and covered your cleavage just enough so that it could accentuate the swell of your breasts perfectly, a square neckline that left your collarbones and neck bare. It made you feel sultry in an entirely new way - it seemed as if it were seamless, flowing down and clinging to your skin at specific places to highlight each curve and dip of your body.

This was a powerful dress and you wondered if Aemond had intended it to be. Merylle fastened a jewelled chain around your neck. You asked her the question that had been lingering at the back of your mind, “Why does he want me there?”

And where the hell was he?

“I am merely a housekeeper,” Merylle spoke, her voice stern. She reminded you of a teacher. “I wouldn’t know.”

It almost made you laugh at the thought that he had effectively banished himself to some other part of the Keep in his stubbornness.

“Oh,” you murmured.

“I’ll leave you for now. The prince will escort you downstairs when he is ready for you.”

And just like that, you were locked alone once more.

Aemond was making you wait. He knew that your mind would be racing with questions - questions he knew you would assault him with as soon as you had the chance. If he wanted to, he was more than ready to pick you up from his chambers and show you to the banquet hall. But there was something so satisfying in knowing the infuriating, heated effect he had on you.

He could picture the scowl on your face and the way you’d be wallowing in your impatience.

Forty-minutes had felt like two hours before Aemond was standing in your doorway, dressed impeccably in matching emerald silk that was tailored to every curve of his body. He was like the embodiment of Adonis, the way he radiated with beauty, strength and temptation.

Aemond’s gaze made your breath catch in your throat. It was hot and you swore you could feel it scorching your skin as he studied you from head to toe. He slowly dragged his violet eye up and down your body twice, swallowing and clenching his jaw as he turned away. “Let’s go.”

Gods. Aemond was raised a man of piety and honour but you were a tempting little thing and the urge to ravish you in that dress he had chosen for you–the dress which only seemed to multiply your beauty tenfold–was impossible to ignore. He was no prude but he felt that he deserved penance for the sinful thoughts of you that plagued his mind.

And as you gazed up at him, innocently and unaware of all the ways he longed to defile you and unaware of his hardness straining against the fabric of his breeches, Aemond cursed himself for his doubts about marrying you.

Aemond cursed himself to damnation for being too weak to admit that he yearned for you. Cursed himself because he wished to be yours and for you to be his but he would never be strong enough to live up to being good for you.

He would forever fear the disappointment in a woman’s gaze–as his mother had always looked at him, the perception that he was unworthy of reverence and the truth that he will never be enough. Because all that Aemond ever seems to do is let people down when he is trying his best and being in love with the daughter of a treasonous lord was a vile predicament.

The Dowager Queen had already told him so. She knew that the smallfolk and lords and ladies alike thought of her second son as a vicious man. But she had only agreed to the betrothal as a means to show the people that her family will always land on top. That you will be living out the rest of your life in the bed of such a man whose House and name your blood has betrayed. In the palm of the Crown.

To show them that they have control over everyone somehow. That they were to be respected lest such traitors wanted to subject their loved ones to their reparations.

Aemond stiffened at his thoughts. He couldn’t be in love with you. He had hardly known you truly. Above all, Aemond was sure that he would never be capable of giving nor receiving something so unattainable as love.

Did he not resent you so? He rolled his eye. One nice dress was all it took for him to fall victim to such idiocies. Perhaps he was no different to the other men of these halls.

“Am I-Am I to accompany you as your betrothed?” You still didn’t understand.

“You said you wanted to see your family. Your parents will be here tonight.”

You took a moment to think about his words.

I have your daughter. She’s safe and sound so long as you behave.

It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered if it meant that you’d get to see your parents. A sense of urgency overwhelmed you and you rushed towards Aemond. “Let us go then.”

Goosebumps arose on your skin the second that Aemond’s hand brushed against the dip of your back. It was a gentle graze, feather light and barely there but he drew his hand back and took a breath before you could even blink.

“Follow me.”

Aemond had left your side before entering. The main hall was alive with people, many of whom you recognised from your limited days in court as a young girl. They all looked at you scornfully and you knew that they were all thinking of you as a traitor to the Crown. You were not but you had the same blood as one.

The music was pleasant and some people danced while others were busy drinking and conversing. You searched the crowd for your parents, hoping that you didn’t look as crazed as you felt. There were so many eyes on you, so much judgment that it made you suck in a breath and keep your eyes anywhere but on the guests.

Your mother was toward the entrance, a champagne flute held delicately between her fingers as she talked with your father.

It was a miracle they had been invited after everything but you knew that they were only here because Aemond had a message for them. A message that was loud and clear just through your attendance. A message that told them that you were sitting comfortably in the palm of his hand, that he could use your entire family for whatever he pleased.

“Ma,” you reached for her, willing yourself not to cry in a room filled with people. She gasped, arms wrapping around your shoulders as she mumbled incoherently. “Are you okay? And Jericho?”

“We’re all fine,” she smiled sweetly. “How is it? Over here? Are they treating you badly-”

Your father cleared his throat loudly. “Ears everywhere, my dear. I see that Prince Aemond has been generous.”

Generous. That word was like a parasite, stuck to you and making you sick to your stomach.

“Yes. I suppose I have been alright.”

You stayed with them for the entirety of the night, slowly making your way through one cup of wine and a couple plates of the food that was set out for the guests.

Slipping your cup onto a tray that one of the servants were carrying, you smiled at Floris Baratheon who spared a glance at you from where she stood. She was talking to Aemond and another man whom you could not name, a hand on his arm as she gazed at him through her eyelashes.

She was only embarrassing herself, you thought. Aemond had put an end to that so that he could play out this game. Yet she still tried. Not that you cared, right?

You glanced towards the corridor. Aemond seemed distracted enough by the conversation. Maybe you could blend in with the guests, make your way out as part of a group and nobody would be any the wiser.

A few steps at a time, you made your way towards the exit. Every now and then someone would try and make idle conversation, bumping into you and forcing a hesitant greeting. But it would only last a few minutes.

By the time you were at the doors, Aemond was nowhere to be seen. Fine, as long as he was far away from you. The hallway was grand and there were groups of people saying their goodbyes. It was the perfect getaway opportunity.

You could disguise yourself within the guests, make your way to where your parents would pass and stay with them. It would work and you’d at least be out beyond this wing of the keep until you inevitably returned. Or you could see Jericho, and then you could convince them and disappear somehow. Jericho might even help you if you explained things to him–if you asked him.

The thought that you were making a mistake began to cross your mind but just as you were at the foot of the door, an arm wrapped itself around your waist roughly, fingers digging into your hip as you were pulled away. Aemond smiled at the people who turned to look at you, their eyes trailing to where his hand burned its mark into the side of his betrothed.

You could hear your blood rushing and heart racing, your palms growing clammy. You considered struggling, maybe putting up a fight. But it would be useless. Aemond was both skilled and strong and how far would you even get before he or a kingsguard caught up to you? Your plan was a desperate, confused mess.

Of all the things happening in that moment, your mind was clouded by Aemond’s leathery, musky scent and the roughness with which he held you. The tick in his jaw and the slight purse of his lips gave away the anger he was suppressing as he dragged you through the crowd, opening the closest door he could find and pulling you in with him.

Shit.

Aemond pulled you so that you were facing him, holding your arms firmly in his hands. He all but growled, “I recall telling you not to run away, little mouse.”

Your cheeks burned and your chest felt as if it were about to explode. Aemond had brought you into a closet which was actually the size of your chambers back home but you were flush against him, chest to chest and eye to eye.

“And what? Will you have me whipped for it?” Taunting him was not a good idea but it came so naturally that you barely realised what you were doing.

Aemond turned you and pushed you into a shelf, pressed against the surface and your back flush against his chest. “I do not like disobedience. My things are to stay where I leave them.”

You struggled against him. But it was for nothing. You barely stood a chance against the man who held you, his breath tickling your ear as you spoke. “I am not something you own, Aemond. I don’t have to heed you.”

“Oh but you do,” his knee lodged between your thighs, holding you down. “Where were you going to go, hmm? There’s not a single place in this Realm where I could not hunt you down myself and you would be back here within a moon.” Aemond could feel your rapid breathing, feel the way you squirmed against him but moulded so perfectly into his body. He hummed in mock thoughtfulness. “Maybe I should have let you go. I do enjoy a chase.”

There was a seductive venom that coated his tongue. It was so unlike the boy Aemond Targaryen you had known all those years ago, who may have been riddled with arrogance and dishonesty but he was never wicked.

“What did I ever do to you, My Prince?” You gasped as he pressed himself further into you in an attempt to put an end to your struggling. Tears threatened to well in your eyes. “Why are you doing this to me?”

Aemond stilled. He thought of the words to say, the words to describe the way that a small part of him now hates that he is making you cry but years ago, the entirety of him would have despised himself for it. As far as you were concerned, all he was to you was Jericho’s acquaintance who had no patience for you. Jericho’s acquaintance who never had the perfect family that you had, never had the love that he deserved, never had what he desired the most.

He never had you.

And Aemond might have hated you for it.

“You were so blind,” he said. “So unaware. So selfish. All I had ever wanted from you was your devotion and all you gave me was resentment.”

Whether it was the gravity of his confession, or the way his body felt against yours, it took your breath away. What he was saying didn’t make sense. “I did not know. You were so cruel to me, My Prince, whatever little time we were together.”

Your chest was heavy with so many conflicting emotions. Fear, shock, anger and desire.

“You want to know why I am doing this to you?” Aemond brought his lips so close to your ear that they brushed against your skin and sent a shudder through your body. “Because I hate your brother for what he did. Because I hate your family. Because I hate you.”

A lie. But you need not know. You swallowed deeply and were he not touching you in such a way, you would have recognised the pit of dejection in your gut. But you could only think of his hands.

His hands, his hands.

They were everywhere, dragging all over your body and leaving a trail of fire on your skin. He slid his fingertips down the sides of your dress, bunching it up at your hips. You couldn’t breath, couldn’t think of the words to say as the ache between your legs grew for him. It wasn’t right - Aemond was all but kind to you but your body yearned for him.

He bit your ear. “I hate you but I fucking burn for you.”

Another gasp and you arched into him. Aemond’s words burrowed deep into your core and made your head spin with unfettered lust. After it all, you would have given him everything right then and there. The desire you had for each other was infernal, it was wrong and it was perfect.

The air was thick and Aemond thought he’d choke on the concoction of lust, heat, anger and fear that was heavy in his chest. Your skin was soft like the satin of the dress he had picked out for you and it drove him crazy to think of all the ways he could indulge himself in your flawless body.

“So tempting all the time,” he touched you with so much determination you wanted to let yourself melt into him, to become one with his heart and body. “Would you let me fuck you like this? How I should have done sooner and make your bewitching body mine?”

You let out a wanton moan as his soft lips found your neck, sucking roughly along the ridges of your skin. “I do not know-”

“Of course you do not know.” Aemond let his hand slip to the inside of your thigh, roughly digging his nails into your flesh and dragging them up to the most intimate part of your body that was bare under his touch. He sucked in a sharp breath at your lack of clothing under the dress–what an enticing, oblivious girl you were–and placed his hand flat against your sensitive flesh. “I’m sure you would let me. Look at how responsive you are to my touch, such a needy little Lady. Tell me.”

The feeling of his hand against your sex and his body pressed against yours sent currents through you, right down to the tips of your toes. With heavy breaths you reached for his arm, desperately scratching his skin because you needed more, more, more.

You were blind with need for Aemond’s body, for him to make good on his words and show you all the filthy things you knew he’d do to you. The voice of reason at the back of your head told you to slow down, that it would ruin you and you would never be able to undo it.

If you gave Aemond your maidenhead here, and you managed to break free of this damned situation, you would be impure and left with no prospects of security. But all of that would be lost anyway.

And you couldn’t stop yourself from burning in the heat of his body against yours, the hardened silhouette of Aemond’s cock against your back and the feeling of his palm cupping your womanhood ridding you of your ability to think.

“Just this once,” you were breathless as you spoke, chest heaving against the hard surface of the shelf.

Aemond tensed against you in surprise, his hips pressing further against the swell of your bum. He was hard, so hard for you. “If I am going to have you have you, ñuha dāria, it will be in the comforts of our marriage. Where I can take you in every way I have spent hours dreaming about.”

You had never met a more confusing, conflicted man than Prince Aemond Targaryen. Against your better judgment, you drawled, “You said you hate me-”

“I do hate you,” Aemond growled again, swiping the pad of his forefinger over your clit in one swift movement that had you writhing in an instant. “Does not mean that I do not want to fuck you.”

You were so wet for him, so prepared for him to push his cock into you right then and it made him throb under the restriction of his breeches. But Aemond was a man of great self control and he refused to give in so soon.

He sunk his teeth into your shoulder, the purposeful movements of his fingers rubbing circles over your clit sending thrums of pleasure through your body. Your hips rutted against his hands, incoherent words tumbling from your lips.

Aemond was not a wildly experienced lover. And he didn’t usually take pleasure in someone else’s pleasure. But the way you trembled against him, the way that every inch of you called for his touch and the way you sounded so desperate and so filthy for him satisfied him in an entirely foreign way. It made his cock twitch and set a fire in his blood.

“Please, My Prince–I am so close,” you whined at the build up of your orgasm, recognising the intensified version of the white hot throb and the sensitivity which you felt whenever you touched yourself alone in your bed. He chuckled darkly before pulling his hand away from you.

There were people looking for him, Aemond could hear them through the door. He couldn’t care less. “That is enough for now. It seems that they are looking for me.”

You turned yourself around, still squashed between Aemond and the shelf, just to gape at him. A smug smile graced his face, his pupil blown out with lust that you could feel pressed against your thigh.

You resisted the urge to smack him again. “You jest, surely.”

Aemond stepped away from you, taking a moment to look at the mess he had made of you while slipping his fingers between his lips. Your dress was caught at your hip and hitched up at your thigh, your hair was tangled and your knees wobbled gently. But your eyes, wide and full of innocent, unburdened desire for him had him questioning his decision to stop.

How he longed to corrupt you.

“Collect yourself. I shall send Merylle to get you to our chambers,” Aemond was at the door by now, fixing his belt to alleviate the discomfort of his arousal as his fervent gaze was focused on you. Our chambers. It was a slip of his tongue. “If you ever try such a stupid thing again, I will not be so lenient.”

With that, he was gone and you were once again left alone with a mind full of wild, distressed thoughts.

tags; @toodlesxcuddles @tredegarwitch @blackravena

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hotchs-big-hands · 8 months ago

Text

Hey Bunny

Aaron Hotchner x plus-size fem!reader SMUT|10.7k words

MINORS DNI PLEASE

Hey everyone! Been a while since I’ve written a full coherent fic LMAO and here I bring the gift of lots of smut. Probably the kinkiest thing I’ve written to date, which I’ll list off in the warnings. This is all based off conversations I’ve had with 🖤 anon for a while :3 so I can’t take all the credit! I hope yawl enjoy this absolute FILTH 💅💅💅

After being woken up from a vivid erotic dream about your boss, who you’re currently on the last night of sharing a hotel room and bed with after a successful case, you’re more than reassured that it’s okay to have such dreams about him. And he’ll learn a bit more about you than he first thought.

Warning(s): light hurt/comfort, very brief mention of Foyet and what he did, so much sex, use of petnames, bunny kink, daddy/sir kink, erotic dreams, oral (both m/f giving and receiving), light gagging, pussy slapping, spanking, light humiliation, a lot of dirty talk in general, fingering, p in v penetration, body worship (both m/f giving and receiving), size kink, slight gaping, condom use, it's just kinky okay what can I tell you?

It was not often enough for a case to end well in a way that allowed for you all to head out for a celebratory meal afterwards. But luckily for you all this time it most certainly had turned out better than anticipated in the end. The kidnapped victims had been found safely and the unsub was subdued with no casualties. Spirits were higher than they had been in the previous case and thus you all found yourselves sitting around a large table sharing a meal; Rossi's treat, of course.

The mood was certainly more rowdy tonight with the sounds of laughter bouncing around the table and cheerful chatter filled the atmosphere with a familial warmth. You were perching more to your left on your chair right now, engaging in the conversation with JJ and Emily with great enthusiasm, something that the two were raising a brow at, though you pretended not to notice. In truth, you were trying to avoid the man sitting on your right. Not for displeasure reasons, but quite the opposite in fact. Attempting to avoid brushing your leg or arm against your very sexy boss was the cause for your behaviour right now.

Aaron Hotchner had been your hotel room mate for the week, something that had been extremely difficult for you to cope with having as big of a crush on him as you did. You'd seen him in far less clothing than his standard neat, tight suits during the entire week as he slept in fitted tees and his underwear, although you suspected he didn't typically do that when he slept alone. It was a very bad idea to linger on those sorts of thoughts though…

JJ suddenly bumped into you, having been shoved by Emily at the climax of a funny story and you squeaked, jolting back and ultimately knocking against Aaron with a yelp.

"H-hey! You two, watch it!" You squeaked, earning a hearty laugh from the dark haired woman.

"Aww come on, it was an accident."

As you opened your mouth to retort, you felt a warm hand rest upon your right leg, just short of your large thigh, and you fought the urge to jolt again.

"Are you alright?" You heard the man beside you ask and you shivered. You didn’t want to look at him in fear of embarrassing yourself by ogling, but at the same time you didn’t want to be rude either. You turned your head in his direction and your breath escaped you when your eyes met his beautiful brown ones accidentally. His gaze was intense and yet kind and concerned. You offered a shy smile.

“I am y-yes. Don’t worry about me, we’re all just in good spirits tonight, sir.”

His brow raised slightly.

“Aaron.” He said. You blinked.

“Mm?”

“We aren’t working now, call me Aaron.”

Oh. You shifted in your seat and grimaced when the wood creaked slightly.

“Alright then, Aaron.” You chuckled to yourself, earning an increasingly perplexed expression on his face. To which you flustered and turned towards him more in your seat and waved a hand out in front of you. “I-I’m not laughing at your name! I’m just- it’s unusual for me to call you by your first name so I’m-“

Aaron’s delightful but sadly rare laugh cut you off and you were greeted with his cute dimples on his cheeks. Even the others stilled their conversation at the sound, but he didn’t appear to care to pay them any mind.

“Please, relax. You're fine, (Y/n).” He smiled, and you basked in the smoothness of his deep voice. You swore you were just imagining things when you felt his hand slightly slip upwards to your lower thigh and squeeze gently, nonetheless you shivered.

The hand remained on your leg right up until Aaron excused himself to visit the restroom whilst the rest of your group began shrugging your coats on ready to head back to the hotel. You felt flutters in your stomach and you fought off a nervous twitch of the corner of your mouth, something your dear friend and colleague Derek noticed.

“A little excited, huh?” He teased, waggling his expressive eyebrows at you. From his perspective you must have appeared like a deer in headlights, eyes wide and your mouth slightly agape.

“Wh- no! I’m tired, eager to go to sleep so we can fly home tomorrow.” You responded quickly as you straightened out your clothing and fastened your coat up.

“Mhm, sure you are.”

Emily was smirking at you when your head whipped round at the sound of her voice and one of her perfect brows was arched. You felt flushed, desperate to rush outside into the biting air of the night. Before you opened your mouth to retort back at her, you noticed her eyes flick over your shoulder and you knew he had returned.

“Ready to go?” Aaron addressed the group. There was a series of responses bounced around and you felt a hand lightly press to the small of your back. You jolted slightly, and met his gaze with a turn. “Shall we go?”

You could only nod. Vainly ignoring the pointed stares of your friends, you followed beside your unit chief as everyone exited the restaurant. You shivered slightly when the frigid wind hit your face, but you were grateful for the temperature change. The walk was short with the restaurant being located a few short blocks from the hotel and you found yourself in step with Emily and JJ, listening and chiming in with the plans they were putting together to have a girl’s night with your one only absent member of the team in the field; Penelope.

“You could stay over at my place at the end of the night out, if you wanted.” Emily said. You nodded and grinned, but JJ grimaced slightly.

“I’d be headed back home to my boys after. I wanna spend as much time with them as I can,” She spoke, then smiled smugly. “Aside from you lovely ladies, of course.”

The darker haired woman of the two huffed out a quiet laugh before the conversation died down when you came to a stop in front of the hotel’s elevator. You busied yourself with looking down at your phone when you felt the men from the team catch you all up and, with the opening of the doors, you all shuffled inside tiredly. You ended up towards the back wall, separated from Emily and JJ, and you briefly caught Emily’s eye. That smirk was present on her face again and you glanced away quickly, only to watch as your breathtaking unit chief squeezed between Derek and Spencer towards you. You couldn’t help your eyes widening slightly and your legs brushing against one another as he came to stand beside you. God, you needed to leave this damn elevator quickly. Slowly, the doors closed and you felt the movement of the elevator rising up to the floor Rossi was on. He, of course, had a room all to himself with the excuse of him being the oldest member of the team and therefore, needing his own space. The remainder of you all were on the floor above in doubles. And that was where your problem lay…

Just one more night, you thought to yourself. One more, then you could escape from the torture of sharing with Aaron Hotchner. Torture, as in sleeping on the only bed in the room; a queen, so close under the covers to the man who had taken up the entirety of your fantasies and erotic dreams. It hadn’t been easy, using the same shower he did, smelling his body wash and imagining it was in your shower at home instead. It was all too much for you and it made your thighs clench together. And while the case had been a good distraction from the full extent of your thoughts about the man, you didn’t have that now with it finished. Tonight was going to be the most tortuous of them all.

You followed behind Derek when the elevator stopped on your floor and you skittishly trekked down the corridor, unable to participate in conversation well. Your room was the first, and as Aaron unlocked the door, you watched helplessly as your friends bid you as much of a ‘good night’ as a pointed smirk that made you turn your back on them, cheeks burning. Seeing the door swung open, you mumbled a quick ‘thank you’ to him as you passed and Aaron followed, quietly closing the door behind you both and locking it again. You crossed the room to your side of the queen-sized bed and shyly perched on the edge to unfasten your shoes and kick them off.

“Do you want to take a shower first?” You heard Aaron say and you turned your body to look at him. Your breath hitched at the sight of him without his jacket on and one of his large hands was loosening the knot of his tie. You blinked a few times, trying to break your stare and you shook your head.

“Oh, no you can. Thank you, si- Aaron.”

Your cheeks flushed when he smirked at your self-correction and he hummed.

“Thanks. I’ll be quick.”

As he disappeared into the shower room with his change of clothes and towel, you flopped backwards on the bed with an exhale. One more night. Just one more and you would be free from accidentally embarrassing yourself or revealing your feelings in front of your boss. You didn’t know how you were going to sleep well tonight with nothing work-related to focus on now. No, instead your mind was fixated on the knowledge you had been sharing a bed with the man you thought about way too often, dreamt about too often, and gasped out the name of whilst you touched yourself when you definitely shouldn’t have been.

Sitting up again, you busied yourself with packing your bag as a distraction, leaving out your clothes for the journey home tomorrow. By the time you were finished, the door to the shower room swung open and Aaron walked out, rubbing his towel through his wet hair. Oh fuck.

With his arms stretched up, his more fitted black tee rode upwards and, to your delight and horror, the sexy softness of his lower stomach peeked out. You could spy the dark hair trailing from the top of his grey boxers and just below it-

“Shower’s all yours.”

You jolted at the sound of his voice and you grabbed your pyjamas and towel quickly, avoiding his gaze.

“T-thank you.”

When you heard the click of the lock, you began to tremble and buried your face in the fabric in your hands. God, you wanted to scream right now. Feebly, you hoped he hadn’t caught you staring at his physique just now but you weren’t so sure. It didn’t help that the scent of his shower gel and aftershave enveloped you in the steamy room. You clenched your thighs together and drew in a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself down enough to wash off the day. Stripping your clothes off and setting them down on the side of the sink top, not daring to look in the mirror too much at your plush body for you knew you’d see just how riled up you were right now.

The cold water of the shower did nothing to stifle the sensations between your legs, your pussy throbbed, yearning to be touched. You forbade it. Tomorrow, you thought. Not when the cause of your arousal was just the other side of the door. But even still you couldn’t resist rubbing your thighs together as the water cascaded down your curves and bumps. Eventually, you gave up and shut the water off and stepped out with your towel wrapped around your figure. You kept your touch feather-light as you dried yourself off and pulled your nightwear on, biting your lip and whimpering when the fabric brushed against the sensitive skin of your breasts and inner thighs. Drawing in a deep breath, you gathered your clothes up after finishing your nightly routine and exited out into the main room.

Aaron wasn’t in bed as you expected, rather standing by the hotel room’s desk with a casefile in hand. At the sound of your return he glanced up from the paperwork through his thick lashes. You swallowed thickly as you returned to your side of the bed again and bent over to stuff the last of your clothes into your bag. Behind you, Aaron cleared his throat and you straightened up quickly and climbed onto the bed, but he remained where he stood, now with his back to you still holding the file. You pouted.

“Si-Aaron, leave that for when we get back to the office. Or at least until we get on the plane,” You said as you peeled the covers back and settled under them. “Come to bed.”

“Making orders, are we?” The man retorted and you froze up, eyes wide in alarm when he turned slightly to look at you. His brows were furrowed, mouth pulled downward in a stern frown.

“A-Ah no! Just- I just thought you could do with an earlier night work-free tonight!” You squeaked, shifting on the bed ready to stand up again until he chuckled and flashed you a cheesy grin.

“I’m teasing you. I’m sorry, you’re right though. I’ll just be a moment, then I’ll be right over.”

You stared, blinking slowly as you processed what had just occurred, then a giggle bubbled out of you as you settled back against the pillows on your side. Aaron wasn’t really the type to tease anyone, and the way he said it to you was… well, sexy. Authoritative. You certainly would be thinking of that tomorrow when you finally returned home. But right now you had to get through this last night, somehow.

As he said, Aaron set the paperwork down after a few minutes and padded across the room to settle down on the bed. Attempting to distract yourself in the meantime, you were scrolling on your phone casually and forcefully willed yourself not to look at him when you felt the mattress dip under his weight settling next to you. As he shuffled under the covers, you reached over to your bedside table and set your phone down, then snuggled down against the pillows. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, so close to you that it was electrifying. Your body shuddered.

“Cold?” Aaron queried. Your toes curled.

“Y-yeah. I’ll warm up though.”

“Right. Let me know if you don’t though.”

“Will do.” You turned on your side, facing away from him as he reached for the light switch on the wall next to him. “Good night, sir.”

Aaron hummed.

“Sleep well, (Y/n).”

And somehow, you managed to drift off to sleep.

“Mhm, come on now. Show daddy your pretty pussy.” Aaron said with a smirk, kneeling between your plump thighs as you dug your heels into the mattress.

You bit your lip, gazing up at his dishevelled appearance, his shirt unbuttoned the whole way and hanging from his shoulders to reveal the plains of his strong chest and soft pudge of his lower stomach. And below it was a prominent bulge pressed against the fly of his neat slacks, the sight making you shudder with need. Shyly, you grabbed your legs by the back of your knees and slowly pulled them apart, feeling your folds spread and the cool air of the room caressed your glistening slit. Aaron’s pupils dilated until his brown eyes appeared almost black and his hands came to grip onto the meat of your thighs, fingers digging in as he pulled them further apart to examine your throbbing clit and twitchy entrance. He groaned as a trail of juices trickled out of you, slowly disappearing between your ass cheeks before him.

“Yes… such a good girl for daddy. You want me to play with your pussy, huh?”

You rolled your hips eagerly, letting out a guttural whine.

“Please daddy, please!”

His smirk widened.

“Please, what?”

You whimpered as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes.

“P-please play with my pussy, daddy! Need your fingers so badly!” You cried, rolling your hips again.

“Good girl.”

His hands brushed closer and closer to your slit until he suddenly pushed back the hood of your clit with his right thumb, exposing the bundle of nerves to him and eliciting a squeak. But as his other hand came to caress it your hips jumped, the pleasurable sensation intense already. He cooed.

“So sensitive and jumpy, like a cute little bunny.”

Your eyes widened and your body jolted with his words, making him let out a surprised chuckle.

“Oh? You like being called bunny, huh? Naughty girl.” He said and his hand came down fast and slapped your poor clit. You wailed, your grip on your legs tightening.

“D-daddy~!”

Your cheeks warmed, your lower belly coiling in embarrassment and arousal and he let out a breathy laugh again.

“Awww, is my little bunny embarrassed she liked that? How cute. Don’t worry though, daddy’s gonna take care of you…”

Muffled sounds roused Aaron from his light slumber and he sat up quickly in alarm, reaching over to his bedside table- then he realised the covers were moving beside him. He cautiously turned to look over your side of the bed and his jaw clenched.

Writhing with the sheets kicked mostly off, you slept restlessly. A thin layer of sweat beaded on your forehead and your brows were creased. This was where the noise was coming from, Aaron thought as you whimpered quietly. A nightmare? Then he really paid attention to the way your body moved, hips rolling, legs splaying lazily and your hands clutched at the sheets. Oh.

Within his boxers, Aaron felt his cock twitch at the realisation of what you were more likely dreaming about in that moment. Fuck. What was he to do? He most certainly wouldn’t get anymore sleep now at this rate. Maybe he should quietly get dressed and leave with a note telling you he went for a walk. But at the same time he didn’t like the thought of leaving you by yourself- Aaron scrunched his eyes shut and clenched his hands into fists, pushing away the more serious thoughts. You were capable of protecting yourself, he knew that. And yet…

“Mmh, daddy please…” He heard beside him and his entire body jolted in surprise, eyes flying open and immediately finding your face. Aaron swallowed thickly as his cock twitched again, hardening slowly.

Try as he might to resist, his eyes wandered to the rest of your body where your chest rose and fell, the swell of your breasts strained against the confines of your pyjama shirt. Fuck, your nipples were pebbled and for a moment he wondered how they'd feel between his teeth.

He clenched his jaw and forced his gaze away from your chest, only to find himself ogling the squishiness of your stomach. Oh, how he had fantasised about gripping onto it as he thrusted his cock into you, needing to see how your body moved in time with him. And as his eyes trailed down to your moving hips he spotted the dampening patch on the crotch of your pyjama shorts- fuck, he needed to wake you up now.

Carefully, Aaron reached a shaky hand over towards you in the darkness of the room and touched your shoulder.

“(Y/n), hey, wake up.” He said softly, and in response your eyes squeezed shut as you let out a groan. “Come on, wake up, sweetheart.”

A moment passed, then your eyes fluttered open and flicked to look at him, only to squeak and flinch back when familiarity filled your gaze.

“S-sir!” You cried out.

This couldn’t be happening to you right now, surely. You surely weren't sprawled out flushed and needy whilst Aaron stared down at you as he kneeled beside you, his hand still resting on your shoulder. You quickly sat up and pulled the covers up over your form.

“Wh-what’s wrong? Do we have a case?” You stumbled over the words quickly, and Aaron blinked, then huffed out a quiet laugh.

“No, no. Don't worry about that. Are you okay?” He asked gently and you felt your stomach clench. Oh no…

“I-I….”

Aaron leaned a little closer, brows creased in concern.

“Bad dream?”

You froze. He really did hear you, then. After a moment, you sighed and rubbed your hands over your face.

“No… but I think you already know that, sir.” You mumbled.

Aaron hummed and dropped his hand from your shoulder.

“I didn't want to accuse you of anything and embarrass you,” he said and shifted back towards his side of the bed ever so slightly to give you space. “But, well, I woke up because I could hear you.”

Your grip on the covers tightened as a cold feeling of shame oozed over you.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean for that to happen.”

You mumbled as your head drooped and you felt your lower lip begin to tremble. This was the worst thing to happen right now. Not only had you dreamt of your boss in an inappropriate way, you'd disturbed his sleep too.

“Hey…” Aaron began softly, reaching across again to take hold of one of your hands. You refused to look up though, the negative feelings within now burned through your veins like lava. “Look at me.” He said.

You didn't move.

“I can't. Wanna forget this happened, sir.” You mumbled back.

He was quiet for a moment, brushing his thumb across your knuckles soothingly.

“Well I don't.”

That got your attention, then. Your head snapped up and your eyes searched his face.

“I-I’m sorry?”

Aaron gazed down at you through his thick lashes, the sight causing a warmth to pool within your lower abdomen. Had he gotten closer all of a sudden?

“I’m going to switch the room light on, protect your eyes for a moment.”

You complied immediately, turning away to bury your face in the crook of your arm and you heard the click of the light switch, signalling you to slowly pull your arm away from your squinting eyes. Now… Now there was nothing to hide from him. You turned back towards him and you shuddered at the sight of his rugged appearance. Aaron exhaled.

“Listen (Y/n), you think I'm a stranger to erotic dreams? Of course I'm not.” He said, a hint of a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “You've nothing to be ashamed of.”

“But I do!” You cried and pulled back, stumbling out of bed and clenching your hands into fists. “I shouldn't have had this dream, especially since I dreamt about the very person I've been-” your eyes widened then, realising what you'd almost said. Aaron knelt up now, moving closer to where you stood backed against the wall.

“Been what?”

You just had to dig your hole deeper. Aaron’s brows were creased now, but all you could do was stare back with a saddened furrow.

“(Y/n)?”

The prickling feeling in the corner of your eyes triggered your throat to tighten as you fought the urge to cry.

“You know what I'm going to say, but I'm ashamed to say it.” You choked.

Aaron's brows raised slightly, but he remained quiet for a moment as though lost in thought.

Every second that passed was agony, your mind beginning to race away from you with ‘what ifs’ about everything. Was he uncomfortable with you? What if you were transferred or fired? The thought made your chest ache and finally, the tears began to roll down your cheeks and your breaths grew shallow and fast.

“Hey, hey. (Y/n), look at me. C'mere back to bed.” Aaron's voice brought you from your thoughts and your eyes refocused on the contours of his mature face. He was painfully beautiful. “Will you let me hug you? You're okay. You've nothing to be ashamed of.”

You simply nodded meekly and he breathed, reaching out to you-of which you met him halfway by crawling back onto the mattress- and pulled you over for a warm, ever engulfing embrace, maintaining you at his side respectfully. You let out a whimper as you gripped onto his shirt tightly, whilst his hands held firmly onto your soft body.

“I'm sorry.” You mumbled against his shirt.

“You don't need to be.”

“I had an embarrassing sex dream about you and now you're comforting me for it.”

Aaron held you closer still, resting your head on his chest. Wait- his heart was racing.

“Maybe that’s because I want to.” He said quietly. You pulled back.

“Wh-why?”

He quirked a little grin as one of his hands glided up and down your back soothingly.

“Well, when I said I am no stranger to erotic dreams…” he trailed off and your breath hitched.

No way. Surely he wasn't implying-

“Whatever you're thinking, the answer is yes. I've had my own fair share of…dreams about you.” His eyes were fixed on you as he spoke, and you felt your body trembling. He let out a chuckle. “I've been very lucky this week that somehow I haven't had one, to put things into perspective.”

You stared at him for a moment, then your face broke out into a flustered grin and you giggled.

“Oh! Well I- I didn't expect that, sir!”

With the room light on now you could bear witness to the delightful sight of Aaron's flushed pink cheeks as he grinned bashfully.

“Now you see that you have nothing to be ashamed of.”

You both quietened for a moment, holding one another gently as you studied one another. He really was such a beautiful man. Silently, he leaned down towards you closer still and your breath hitched.

“A-are you gonna kiss me, sir?”

“Mhm, you called me something very different when you were sleeping.” He murmured and you shuddered.

“I…”

“I sure hope you're not about to apologise again to me, sweetheart.” He said as he leaned closer towards your face, eyes gazing down at your lips through his thick lashes. “Because if you are, I'm going to have to put that pretty mouth of yours to better use.”

Your eyes widened and you shivered as your thighs clenched together.

“F-fuck…”

Aaron hummed and cupped your cheeks with his large hands, his thumbs stroking your soft skin.

“May I kiss you, (Y/n)?”

You swallowed thickly.

“Please.” You managed to whisper.

And his lips were pressed against yours a moment later, tender and gentle and sensual as your eyes fluttered shut and your hands came to grab onto the front of his tee shirt. Instinctively, you whined into it and his hands moved, gliding down to your plush waist and gripping onto the flesh. He moved backwards, pulling you with him to straddle his lap and as your clothed slit reached the fabric of his underwear you felt just how much he wanted this from the firm, hot bulge that pressed against the confines of the fabric.

You whimpered as he pulled back barely enough for him to be able to speak, his lips still brushing against yours as he spoke.

“Feel how much I like you, huh? Need you so much, pretty girl.”

You shyly rolled your hips, grinding your mound against the bulge and earning a sharp hiss from the man before you. His hands moved suddenly to grab your ass cheeks, squeezing and melding them and causing you to roll your hips more in response. He groaned against your mouth when his lips met yours again, the second kiss being more heated and desperate; hungry for you. Only when the need for oxygen burned in your chest did you both part once more, but his lips remained on your skin as they travelled along your soft jaw.

“C'mon, tell me about the dream you were having.” He coaxed you, holding your body flushed with his more than ever. You merely whimpered and your hands moved to his hair, messing it up with strands pointing in random directions. Aaron tutted and turned you both over, pinning you beneath him and making you squeal.

“A-alright! I, mmh, wanted you to touch my p-pussy, you had me spread my legs for you.”

Something flared within Aaron's dark eyes and you heard a rumble in his chest; possessive and aroused. His hands gripped your hips and you parted your thighs a little, eager for him. He smirked.

“Oh? Well, we'll build up to that. Wanna ask you a few things first.” he said, brushing his nose against yours. “I wanna know what you're okay with and your limits.”

You sucked your lower lip between your teeth and slowly released it, enjoying the way Aaron's eyes fixated on your mouth.

“J-just as long as you don't do anything too extreme like really hurting me or extremely gross I'm okay. I'm a big girl, I can take it.”

You felt as Aaron's hands slid up to cup your cheeks and he kissed the tip of your nose fondly, making you hum.

“I see, I don't want to hurt you, at least nothing more than if you enjoyed a bit of spanking. How does that sound, hmm?” He said and you shuddered, flashes of the dream you'd had causing you to subtly spread your legs a little wider.

A whine escaped you as you held onto him desperately. “Yes, fuck please!”

Aaron smiled.

“Good girl.”

You shivered and opened and closed your mouth a few times, debating on how to word what you wanted to say next. He quirked a brow.

“What is it?”

“I… well, I love slaps on my ass but I also- fuck, this is embarrassing!” you squeaked, earning a kiss to your forehead, then Aaron brushed his own forehead against yours.

“You don't need to be embarrassed, sweetheart. I'm not here to shame you.”

With a whimper, you blurted it out.

“I really like pussy spanking!”

As the words slipped your mouth the reaction was instantaneous; the man before you jolted forward, his hips bumping against yours and pressing the prominent bulge of his erection against your inner thigh. And it twitched. You made a small noise as he pushed himself up again as he uttered an apology.

“I didn’t mean to do that, I’m sorry.” Aaron said but in response you rolled your hips upwards, chasing the feeling of his arousal against your body.

“I-It’s more than fine, s-Aaron.”

He hummed, pressing his weight down onto you now and his lips brushed over yours.

“So, pussy spanking? I didn’t expect that from you, naughty girl.” He teased you and you shuddered. He chuckled softly and began to slightly grind his bulge against the heat of your clothed slit. “You want daddy to spank your pussy, huh?”

You bit your lip, brows creasing as you nodded at him with a little hum.

“Y-you’re okay with daddy?”

Aaron stroked your cheek and pressed a soft kiss against the corner of your mouth.

“More than okay with it, I assure you.”

With that he pressed his lips to yours properly once more and his large hands travelled down your neck until he grasped your breasts, causing you to gasp in surprise. Aaron took advantage of this, his tongue brushing against your own whilst his fingers pinched and flicked at your erect nipples through your pyjama shirt. All you could do was grip onto his upper arms, the strong muscles tensing as you rolled your hips up against Aaron's bulge and causing much needed friction on your poor clit.

When you both parted for oxygen again, you whined.

“Please-!”

“Aww, please what?” Aaron cooed at you, though it wasn't entirely sincere but rather mimicking your tone. You felt flushed, embarrassed but enjoying it more than you thought you would.

“W-wanna feel your hands on my skin!”

With a hum of approval, you felt as he pulled at the hem of your shirt and you shifted up from the bed just enough for him to be able to pull it off your body, exposing your plush body to him finally. You didn’t have time to clam up and cover yourself with your arms as Aaron gently grasped your wrists and pinned them either side of your head. He exhaled deeply, causing a rumble to vibrate through his chest. His dark eyes roamed over your form and again, you felt his cock twitch.

“Jesus, you’re fucking beautiful.”

Your legs came to clamp around his hips and you tried to curl your knees inwards in a feeble attempt at covering yourself.

“S-sir!” you squeaked. His eyes narrowed and he leaned down to press a kiss to your lips.

“Careful, if you call me that I may not know what to do with myself when we’re working together.”

Your eyes widened in alarm, but a faint smirk toyed with the corner of his mouth and you relaxed a little. You’d keep that in mind for now. Drawing your attention back to the present, Aaron released his hold on your wrists, only for his hands to glide across your shoulders and down the centre of your chest, teasing you by avoiding touching your nipples. Now, he allowed himself to smile more openly and he drew in a deep breath.

“So soft, so fucking sexy. You’ll let me kiss them, huh pretty girl?” He murmured.

You nodded and offered a brief ‘yes’ and he slid down the bed a little until his face was level with your breasts. You shuddered when his lips made contact with the valley between them, leaving little kisses over the area and starting to sidle over to the right one, his tongue slipping out to swirl around your areola and causing you to arch up into his touch and gasp out. You could feel his lips curl into a smirk as they wrapped around the pert nipple and he sucked it into his mouth, his hand coming to grab your other breast and roll the nipple between his thumb and pointer finger. You moaned softly, moving your hands to sift through the dark locks of Aaron’s hair and mussing it up. When his teeth brushed against the tip your back arched and you tugged on his hair, making him huff a muffled laugh.

With a wet smack of his lips, he pulled away from your now swollen nipple and brushed his lips over the flushed skin.

“You sound so sexy when you moan for me, pretty girl.” He murmured and you let go of his hair to cover your face with your hands, squeaking.

“Shhh! Don't say that!”

Unbeknownst to you, his gaze darkened and suddenly, his hand came down and slapped your inner thigh and startling you with a squeal.

“Aaron!”

His hand slapped your thigh again, closer to your clothed slit.

“What was that, hm?” He said darkly, his hand gripping onto the meat of your thigh, his fingers indenting slightly. You breathed shakily.

“I-I-”

“It’s daddy, got it? Or do you want to be punished?”

You stared into his dark eyes and sucked on your lower lip again, slightly swaying your hips side to side.

“No, daddy. I-I’ll be a good girl.” you whimpered and Aaron hummed softly, moving his hands up to cup your cheeks and brushing his thumbs against your skin.

“That’s right, you’re my good girl.”

He leaned down and pressed his lips to yours again, groaning softly into the kiss and you returned to brushing your fingers through his dark locks. You felt him press his thick bulge against you and you desperately wanted to feel his bare skin against yours. Needed to see it, touch it, taste it…

Aaron grunted in surprise as you shoved him away, only to hear you giggle as you manoeuvred him to lay on his back whilst you knelt at his crotch. His eyes narrowed at you.

“What do you think you’re doing, hmm?” He asked darkly and you leaned down closer to the twitching bulge of his boxers.

“Can I have a taste please, sir?”

Visibly, Aaron’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. He let out a puff of air through his nose and a smirk tugged at his mouth.

“What did I tell you about calling me ‘sir’? You fucking naughty girl.” He gritted, although he wasn’t truly annoyed. You hummed innocently.

“Whoops, I can’t help it, sir. I’m just so used to it.”

Shaking his head but smiling slightly, Aaron raised a brow at you and his body relaxed.

“Well, since you asked so nicely I’ll forgive and forget both you shoving me ah-nd-” His words stuttered when you pressed a little kiss to the tip of his clothed cock and hummed softly at the feeling of the patch of precum staining his boxers touching your lips. “F-fuck…”

You beamed at him between his slightly parted legs, pressing your soft cheek against the bulge affectionately.

“You’re so big, daddy!”

With your newfound confidence, you hooked your fingers into the waistband of his underwear and slid them down, eyes wide as they focused on his cock. You heard Aaron hiss when his length finally slipped out, slapping against the lower part of his tee shirt. He was very big. Aaron let out a deep, quiet moan as he studied your expression- you were in awe, almost salivating at the sight of him. You slid down to lay on your stomach, taking hold of his shaft and causing him to hiss sharply. From the hem of his shirt you could see the base of his thick happy trail, the dark hair spreading out across his pubic bone and haloing his cock. With your other hand, you pulled his underwear down further until they reached his mid-thigh and now you had access to his mouth-watering balls too. You whimpered. Aaron felt precum slowly drip down off his tip, soaking into his shirt and leaving a little wet patch.

“You like the look of daddy’s cock huh?”

You nodded and whined out a little “yes” before you nuzzled your face against his cock. Eyes fluttering shut, you slowly opened your mouth and took the oozing tip inside, humming at the taste of his natural body and the slightly salty precum. You heard Aaron swear as you swirled your tongue around the tip, slipping your mouth further down the shaft. You bobbed your head lightly, sucking against his skin and feeling giddiness rise in your chest with every grunt and moan and curse that passed his lips. He tasted so good, addicting and you craved more. With one hand on his shaft, sliding up and down to meet your mouth, the other glided up to his stomach, slipping under his shirt and gripping onto the soft pudge there. You carded your fingers through the thick, dark hair there and felt the muscles under his skin contracting with every suck and lick of his cock. You felt his hands gently grip your scalp and you dug your fingers into his stomach when he began to guide you up and down his length.

“Unnf… that’s it, fuck- such a good fucking girl-” Aaron moaned softly, and you could feel him twitching against your tongue. You took more into your mouth until you felt the tip reach the back, just short of your throat, and you gagged a little. Aaron pulled you off quickly, sitting up to cup your cheeks. “Oh shit, I’m sorry sweetheart. Are you okay?” His eyes searched your face, the saliva dribbling down your chin and the little gasping breaths passing your swollen lips. You grinned.

“Mmh I am. Guess I gotta practice more to build up to that.” You breathed and slid your hand up and down his length. Aaron bucked his hips in surprise, falling back against the pillows with a grunt and causing you to giggle. “Oops~!”

You continued to slide your hand up over the slick tip whilst you kissed down the underside of the shaft until you reached the place where his cock met his balls. You hummed softly, tongue darting out to lick them and causing Aaron to groan deeply from the back of his throat. You could only sneak a couple more kisses before he pulled you away from his cock, grabbing onto your upper arms and hauling you to straddle him. He pressed his lips to yours in a fierce kiss, no doubt tasting himself on your lips, and his hands slid over to your back and encouraged you to grind your clothed slit over his shaft. You whined, feeling the tip bump your clit with the movement and wanting to feel more. Before you knew it, you were trapped beneath him on your back again, gasping in surprise and in turn, allowing his tongue to slip against yours. You felt hot, burning with need for him and craving him to do as he pleased with you so long as you could stay with him.

Aaron reeled back, gazing down at you with a look of pure desire and admiration of you. He reached for his shirt, pulling it up over his head and discarding it without any care and your pupils blew wide at the breathtaking sight of him in his entirety. Your eyes trailed over his form, over every bump and curve, the hair sprouting over his stomach, at every mole and beauty mark. But also at the faded but still raised scars that were scattered all across his body. You hadn’t known him during the threat of Foyet but had heard some of what transpired. But seeing it before you, seeing what physical damage that sadistic man had done to Aaron made your breath hitch. You blinked a few times, both to stop yourself from staring but also to try to clear away the tears welling up. Aaron noticed them though, leaning down to kiss the tip of your nose affectionately.

“I’m okay, sweetheart. I promise.” He murmured softly. You nodded, but in the back of your mind you filed this off for a later time. For now, you slid your hand across his torso, feeling his skin under your touch and you kissed the corner of his mouth.

“You’re so handsome, sir. I knew you were already but…”

Aaron chuckled quietly, the tips of his ears evidently red as he cupped your cheek with one of his hands, brushing his thumb over your lips.

“Sweet-talking me, are we? Well, I appreciate it. I feel the same way seeing you.” kneeling back and lightly gripping onto the band of your shorts, he smirked. “Speaking of… shall we get these off you now, pretty girl? Gotta show your cute, little pussy the same amount of love you gave my cock.”

You squeaked, hips twitching upwards into his touch and allowing him to start sliding the shorts down your plush stomach and stretching over your large thighs. At the sight of your pubic mound, Aaron hummed deeply and made quick work pulling the fabric off the rest of the way, too joining the rest of your clothes elsewhere on the floor. You bit your lip, gazing up at him desperately and he chuckled again,

“Mhm, now I recall what you told me earlier from your dream. So,” He leaned back to give you space and gripped his girthy cock with one of his large hands. “Show daddy your pretty pussy.”

Oh fuck, you whimpered as you felt your clit throb at his command. You slid your hands down your body and gripped onto your legs, hooking your hands under your knees, and started parting your thighs for him. The cool air of the room hitting your dewy folds caused you to shiver, and the sight of Aaron jerking himself off to you made you feel confident, more aroused.

“I-is this okay, sir?”

Aaron gripped the base of his cock tightly, groaning a little and shifting forward towards your spread legs.

“God- so fucking pretty. You’ll let daddy touch, won’t you? You’re so wet.” He breathed, eyes focused on your slit.

“P-please-”

“Good girl.”

Letting go of his cock, Aaron instead moved his hands down to part your folds with his thumbs, licking his lips at the sight of your juices coating your skin. You shivered again, rolling your hips in desperation.

SLAP.

You squealed, back arching as the sting of Aaron’s hand impacting with your pussy startled you more than hurt you.

“Daddy!”

“I didn’t say you could keep moving around, little girl.”

Your eyes widened at his sharp tone, staring up at him as he glared. He resumed with his touches, swiping his fingers down from your little bundle of nerves to your leaking entrance. You whimpered, struggling to stay still but you couldn’t stop yourself from twitching. He chuckled and held his hand out to you showing off how much of your juices had stuck to his fingers.

“Would you look at that, little girl. So sensitive… i’ve barely touched you and you’re so jumpy.”

Your eyes widened and your stomach clenched, causing Aaron to pause.

“What is it? Are you alright?” His tone softened and you panicked a little.

“A-ah yes! Don’t worry, I just-” you felt a flush of warmth to your cheeks as you thought of how to word what you were about to say next. “Well, in my dream I was jumpy and you said I was jumpy like a b-bunny.”

For a moment the room was quiet, and you wondered if you had made a mistake. But as you opened your mouth to take back what you’d said, Aaron pinched your clit, making you cry out and buck your hips up.

“Well well, you’re more fucking filthy than I expected. You want me to call you my little bunny, huh?”

You keened up at him, letting out a high pitched noise as you tightened your grip on your legs.

“P-please, daddy!”

With a quiet huffing laugh, Aaron swiped his fingers across your pussy again and leaned down to press a kiss to your pubic mound. You quivered, anticipating what he would do next.

“So soft… Mmh, you smell so good, bunny. Gonna taste you now.” He whispered and slid his mouth lower, brushing his lips over the hood of your sensitive clit. He hummed, sending vibrations through your slit and you choked out, bucking your hips up against his face.

SLAP.

You sobbed out a broken moan with the smack to your pussy again, this time more firmly than the first one.

“Fuck- sorry da- ungh!” you could barely speak, words slurring into a loud moan when Aaron’s tongue swiped from your leaky hole up to your little nub, sucking it into his mouth and releasing it with a tug. He didn’t stop, lapping at the bundle of nerves with his talented tongue and all you could do was try to stop yourself from riding his face. With his slick covered hand, he circled a finger around your entrance and dipped it inside slightly with every round; teasing you. He sucked you back into his mouth again, simultaneously thrusting the finger inside you in one swipe and you wailed.

Your grip on your legs faltered, slipping from your grasp and your feet slammed down onto the mattress. With a growl, Aaron surrounded your clit with his teeth as he pulled his mouth away again and as he did so, his finger slipped back out of your pussy. The sound of his fingers slapping your poor slit resounded around the room, accompanied by your cute squeal.

“You’re a naughty fucking bunny, aren’t you? Can’t keep hold of your legs anymore, huh? Tsk.”

Shoving your legs apart, Aaron thrusted two fingers inside you this time and his mouth devoured your poor clit, the little nub becoming swollen and red from the spanks. With another sob, your hands came to grip at his hair and he growled again, fucking his fingers into you roughly. He would be the death of you, driving you brainless with his touch and you’d thank him for it too.

Two fingers became three, stretching your little pussy open around them as he tortured you with his mouth. You already felt full just with his thick fingers inside you, but you’d seen the girth of his cock and you could only wonder how much it would split you open for him.

“S-so much- Fuck! Daddy, s-so thick~” You whined, feeling your juices drooling out of you with every thrust of his fingers. Aaron pulled off your clit again far enough away to speak.

“You need stretching out so you can take daddy’s cock, bunny.”

He emphasised with a thrust upwards and your hips spasmed, hands gripping the bedsheets either side of you desperately.

“G-ghh fuck!”

His mouth resumed on your mound as his pace quickened, fingers rapidly thrusting in and out of you with a sloshing sound. You felt a burning pleasure building within your lower abdomen, coaxed by his torturous touch and your noises raised in pitch. With the feeling of your walls clamping around his fingers, Aaron smirked around your clit as he knew you were going to cum any moment now. With a light nibble of his teeth and a particular thrust you cried, back arching as you rode his mouth and fingers through your powerful orgasm. But he didn’t let up, continuing your torture until you were keening again. Only then did he relent, pulling off your clit with a wet smack of his lips and he pushed himself up with his spare hand, keeping his fingers of his other hand inside you still. He licked his lips.

“Mhm, you taste real good, bunny.” he smirked, eyes on your heaving chest. You struggled to catch your breath, eyes heavily lidded as you basked in the aftershocks.

“F-fuck, that was…”

“Us only getting started.”

That helped your eyes recover, widening as you stared up at the mischievous look on Aaron’s face.

“Oh fuck.”

He leaned down to kiss you, full of passion as you opened your mouth to taste your juices that lingered on his tongue, but pulled away far too soon and his fingers slipped out of your gushing hole. He cooed at you when you whimpered, pressing one more kiss to your forehead.

“Just gotta get a condom, bunny. You just sit tight for daddy, okay?” He said as he shifted away and clambered off the bed. Your eyes followed his toned rump, the urge to bite it suddenly flooded your mind and you bit your lip. Maybe another time, you thought.

“Why’d you have condoms, daddy? You thinking about fucking me?” You giggled as he grabbed a little foil packet from his go-bag. He turned to you with a glare, stalking over to the bed and crawling towards you on the mattress. Before you could react, his hand came down sharply on your overly sensitive clit and you wailed, body jolting as pleasure and pain spasmed through you.

“Don’t be coy with me, naughty little bunny. I have them for less mess. Which is your doing,” He emphasised with another, lighter slap to your clit, then massaged it with the slightly rough pad of his fingers. “You keep invading my dreams and I have to sort out the problem you cause.”

Oh fuck, you whined as your mind was filled with thoughts of Aaron waking from erotic dreams about you, fucking his fist at the thought of you afterwards.

“G-god that’s so hot, daddy!” you moaned, rolling your hips involuntarily and he grunted.

“It’s been torture, is what it is.” Aaron came to kneel between your spread legs again, this time his hips were flushed with your thighs, and he tore open the little wrapper with his skillful fingers. But as he began rolling the rubber over his thick shaft, his hands faltered and his cock twitched. “Oh god.”

You tilted your head.

“Wh-what’s wrong?”

Aaron didn’t say anything at first as he secured the condom in place, but then he pressed the length down against your squishy stomach and mound and you realised what he was thinking about.

“Look how small you are compared to daddy’s cock.” He marvelled. And he was right. He was so thick, at least three of his fingers in width, with the tip ending at the midway point of your low abdomen. Oh… You felt your pussy clench in anticipation.

“I…I don’t know if it’ll fit, daddy.”

You sucked your lip into your mouth, wiggling your hips as you shifted to get comfortable. Aaron cooed at you.

“Aww don’t worry bunny, daddy will make sure it fits.”

Grasping his cock and shifting back just enough to align the bulbous head with your pussy, he slowly brushed it up and down, using his other hand to spread your lips to expose more of your clit to him as he massaged it with his cock. You were gasping out cute, little noises which only encouraged him to grind more, thrusting over the hood of the sensitive nub with a quiet grunt.

“Fuck, you’re so wet. You ready to take my cock, little bunny?” He rumbled and you grasped for the hand spreading your folds.

“Please, sir! N-need it so badly~” you whined and with a huffed laugh, Aaron angled his cock in line with your oozing entrance.

“Gonna push inside now, bunny. Be a good girl for me-”

You could feel the pressure on your hole. The sensation of his cockhead slowly pushing into you made your eyes widen more and more until suddenly, it slid home and stretched you out deliciously.

“O-oh-!” Your mouth was agape, and Aaron groaned deeply with the sensation of your pussy clenching around his tip. Christ, you already felt full to the brim. But then as his hand slammed down onto the pillow beside your head in an attempt to stay upright, his cock slid in further- easing into you more and stretching you out a little bit at a time. “Fuck!” You moaned, eyes fluttering shut.

His own moan joined yours, deep and sensual and one of the best sounds you had ever heard. He stilled, holding himself up as he waited for you to adjust.

“F-fuck- sorry, sweetheart- you just feel so good I lost my balance for a moment.” He grunted, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. “You alright?”

You nodded, straining your neck up to press your lips to his cheek over the beauty mark under his right eye.

“I am, don’t worry. Feels so good, I promise.” You murmured softly, smiling up at him. He chuckled and a delightful blush tinted his cheeks.

“Okay, okay. Gonna slide out a bit and try to get a little deeper, bunny.”

Pulling his hips back, you felt his length retreating until only the tip remained, then he lightly thrusted forward with a soft grunt again. Slowly, inch-by-inch he worked his cock inside you, encouraged by your soft moans. And then, you felt his hips press against the back of your thighs, stuffed full of his fat cock. Your eyes were blown wide, whining loudly when you felt the pad of his thumb brush against your clit.

“S-full…” you slurred, hands reaching for Aaron’s arms to grip onto. He was clenching his jaw, resisting the urge to fuck into you until you were ready.

“You take me so well, bunny- fuck!” Your pussy clenched around him from his praising and it took every ounce of his strength not to fall on top of you again.

You felt impossibly stuffed full of him with a dull ache throbbing through your lower abdomen, though not entirely unpleasant.

“P-please…”

“Please, what? Use your words, pretty bunny.” Aaron teased and you whined whilst pushing your hips up at him.

“Please move, daddy!” you finally whined out and he kissed your forehead.

“Good girl.”

Slowly sliding his cock out of you, your pussy clinging to his shaft like a vice grip, he paused when only the tip remained. And then he thrusted forward in one firm movement, spearing you on his length to the hilt. You cried out in time with his grunt, and slowly he picked up a pace. IN and out, in and out, your body jolting in time with every thrust, to which Aaron grabbed onto one of your breasts to leverage himself.

“Feel so fucking good around my cock- fuck- good little bunny-” Aaron grunted and emphasised his words every time he bottomed out, his voice more husky than usual as pleasure burned through his entirety. You could only moan and wail, the pressure of his cock stretching out your hole and the prominent vein running along the topside of his shaft stimulated your clitoris from within.

“S-so much- Aah-Aaron!” You wailed as your words melted into moans, not even paying attention to the fact his name had slipped through. You felt Aaron’s hips stutter and he swore loudly, curling downward and kissing your neck hungrily. His pace quickened, his cock barely pulling out more than halfway now and stimulating the roof of your pussy more thoroughly. But you least expected his hand grabbing your breast to let go, only to slap your poor clit and making you cry out barely lower than a scream. “Sir!”

Aaron pulled upright to glare down at you, still fucking his cock into you roughly,

“That’s not what you called me just now, you fucking naughty girl.” He hissed as he slapped your clit again. You howled, back arching and your legs tried to close but were blocked by his hips.

“Please! I’m sorry, daddy! Feels too good~”

“I haven’t even been fucking you for that long and you’re already this brainless? Fucking filthy.” He spat, rubbing his fingers over you clit rapidly. You writhed beneath him, not caring about having shame as your pleasure began to swell. He scoffed. “I can feel you pulsing. Gonna cum, are you? Go on, cum for daddy like the filthy fucking bunny you are.”

The pleasure was burning now, spreading through your core until you let out a broken moan, grabbing Aaron by the shoulders and pulling him down on top of you, his fingers still rapidly toying with your sensitive nub. It was blinding, no other orgasm had compared to this one before. Being so full of him, surrounded by him, his relentless movements… You were spasming hard, your body trying to shy away from the overwhelming pleasure but Aaron pulled you back with his free hand.

“Oh no you don’t. You’re staying right here, bunny.”

You whined as oversensitivity caused your body to shiver uncontrollably. Aaron finally relented, though still kept you stuffed with his cock and he brushed his lips against your cheek. “You doing okay?” he whispered softly and you nodded, smiling a little,

“God yeah, you’re fucking wild!” You giggled when he huffed out a laugh and nuzzled your cheek against his. “We can keep going, that was just the most intense orgasm I think I’ve ever had.”

“Jeez, well it was certainly the most intense sensation I’ve felt around my cock, I’ll tell you that.”

With one last kiss to your cheek, Aaron pulled back and his demeanour shifted back to being stern and dominant. He eyed the place where you two bodies joined and he hummed.

“Don’t move, daddy wants to check something, ‘kay?”

You whimpered as you felt his cock slowly pulling out of your oversensitive channel but then you squeaked when he pulled the tip out entirely, followed by a gush of your juices. He grabbed your hips and pulled you closer, pushing your thighs back until you knees reached your chest. “Hold them there.”

You complied immediately, gripping the back of your knees and struggling a little bit with the sweat that had built up there. With his hands free now though Aaron carefully pried your folds apart and he groaned loudly. You twitched.

“Wh-what is it?”

His eyes dragged up to your face and he smirked.

“Wanted to see how much you’d stretched for daddy, bunny. You’re fucking gaping.”

You felt your eyes widen and a full-body shiver coursed through you.

“Oh my god.”

He hummed deeply again, then leaned his body down to swipe his tongue around your slightly gaping entrance. You could barely make a noise before he sat up again and pushed his cock back inside in one quick movement and you gasped loudly. With your knees pressed to your chest it felt as though he pushed impossibly deeper inside you and it made you mewl for him. He was rolling his hips sensually into you, moaning in his sensually baritone voice.

“Fuck… Don’t think I’m gonna last too much longer, sweetheart.” He huffed out when he felt you clenching around him again. You let go of your legs, hooking them over his shoulders and instead grasping hold of his hands.

“S’okay, me neither-”

Aaron’s pubic bone rubbed against your swollen clit, the hair tickling it with the roll of his hips. He squeezed your dominant hand and moved it between your bodies but didn’t let go, instead guiding your circles around the bundle of nerves.

“That’s it, good girl. My fucking good bunny.” He encouraged you. Pleasure was building again rapidly within you, and you turned your head to bite into the pillow cradling your head.

“F-fuck! Please- please!”

Aaron picked up the pace, pulling out just enough to piston in and out of you and his noises raised an octave higher.

“Shit- (Y/n)!” He moaned and that was it for you. Your body shook and quivered almost violently, eyes rolling back into your head as you wailed Aaron’s name. Simultaneously, his cock twitched prominently as he orgasmed, his body tensing aside from his bucking hips. There was no end, your pussy clenching around him in response to his hand guiding your clitoral stimulation, in turn prolonging his own overwhelming pleasure. Before it became all too much, he let go of your hand and both dropped onto the mattress, utterly fucked out.

The room was quiet aside from your mutually heavy breathing and the rush of blood in your ears. You could feel Aaron softening inside you now as the two of you calmed down but you whined and grabbed hold of him when he tried to pull away.

“No, stay!”

“Honey, I’ll collapse on you, and I’ve gotta take care of the condom.” He said softly to which you scowled at him.

“Ugh, but I wanna cuddle.” You protested weakly. He smiled and kissed your forehead.

“You need to pee too, pretty girl.”

You only slightly hated that he was right about that. A few minutes later, with some water and some snacks you had in your go-bag, the two of you cuddled up to one another under the covers, still bare but cosy. Initially, Aaron had protested laying half on top of you as you requested, but quickly accepted it with a light-hearted laugh when you pulled him down onto you and wrapped your limbs around him. It felt natural, as though you’d always been together. And it filled you with butterflies.

You brushed your fingers through his messy, dark hair and studied the beauty of his face when he lifted his head up from your bust to look at you. The corner of your mouth twitched.

“D’you wanna, um, maybe go for coffee sometime?”

Aaron grinned.

“You’re asking me on a date?”

“Yeah, I didn’t want this to just be, y’know, sex.” You said softly. He pressed a kiss to your chest just below your collarbones lovingly.

“Neither do I. I’d love to go out for coffee with you.”

And you beamed at him, your cheeks tinted with a rosy glow.

The following morning you followed alongside Aaron to the hotel reception area to meet up with the others, eyes still a bit bleary as you blinked rapidly. The others were already waiting for you, it turned out and immediately your stride faltered when you saw the expression on their faces. Oh no.

“Well, well! There you two are!” Derek chortled and you wished the floor would swallow you whole. His eyes fixed on you and he grinned widely. “Hey bunny! Sleep well?”You stopped in your tracks, as did Aaron and he glanced back at you, meeting your eye. You were in for a very long flight home.

Jesus christ that was the longest fucking standalone fic ever. I hope yawl enjoyed it if you stuck around until the end here 😭😭 thank you so much for reading!!!

Tagged people: @tgskitten @hoffmanfan13

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader smut #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner x plus size reader #hotch smut #nsfw.#aaron hotchner #criminal minds fanfiction

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myntrose · 8 months ago

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ೃ⁀➷partners in crime ︻デ═一

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ft: Alastor x gn! reader

summary: It's another night at the hotel. Everyone is lounging around the shared space, or sitting at the bar. With a boost of confidence (and a few drinks) Angel finally asks the burning question everyone had : How did you and Alastor meet?

cw: demi! Alastor, established relationship(married), Alastor and reader meet when they were alive, reader is an assassin , killing and mild gore (it's alastor yall), a lot of petnames, no use of y/n, no beta we die like men

a/n: it's the way alastor got me smiling and kicking my feet. he got me to break my 1 year hiatus LMAO. also, I am aware that he's ace. I myself am somewhere along the demi spectrum, so this fic is purely for comfort n coping. if you don't like it, pls ignore :,D

wc: 1.5 k (1,469 words)

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾────────────────────────────────☽༓･˚⁺‧͙

The hotel common was filled with low gentle music and idle chatter. Vaggie and Charlie were on the couch, talking about everything and nothing. Nifty was running around chasing some poor roach. Even Cherri was here, with Sir Pentious attempting to flirt with her once again.

Husk was behind the bar, in ordinary fashion. Although he was mostly listening and doing his job, he would occasionally chide into the conversation the other two residents at the hotel were having. Angel was in the middle of telling you about how much of a headache Val was, while you gave him you condolences. It seemed like the only person missing was the radio demon himself, who was probably in his tower, making a new broadcast.

"Speakin of which..." Angel, who noticed Alastor's lack of presence, noted "I got a question for ya toots. How is it that tall, red and creepy managed to bag you as a partner? You're sweet and all, I get that. But how did you even meet-"

The loud slam of drinks caused the peace within the hotel to halt . Husk shoots a stern glare towards Angel, almost to warn him, be cautious about asking question's about Alastor and his darling, you never know if he's listening.

"It's alright, Husk" You send him a sincere smile. While he would never trust your husband, he can't help but believe your words.

"Well, Angel, let's start with this. If you've ever wondered why I'm down here in the first place, it's because of the occupation I had when I was alive. That's actually how I met Alastor."

Oh, maybe you were a thief and were trying to steal something from Alastor. Or maybe a detective that was on the case to solve his murders. Or maybe-

"I was hired to assassinate one of his targets."

oh.

You couldn't help but laugh at Angels' reaction. Sure, you were kind to those in the hotel, and definitely not as threatening as most overlords. He, and most people you met in Hell, just assumed you committed some mundane crime and got the unfortunate eternal punishment .

Taking a small sip of your drink, you start to recollect the unforgettable night that would define your current relationship.

It was supposed to be like any other job that you were given. Your employer would hand you a file, you would find the target, and get paid in return. Maybe it wasn't the most ethical way to make money, but hey, you knew how to kill so you made it work.

You had followed your target into the bar, while waiting away in the corner. Though your eyes were focused on them the entire night, you couldn't help but feel another pair of eyes on you.

It was probably some random patron in the bar, you guessed. It wasn't for another hour when you noticed that your target had left the vicinity.

The streets were dark, with the occasional street light every block or so. It was perfect place to finish your job. All you needed was for your target to turn into some alleyway, and as quietly as you followed him, you'd quietly go for the kill-

Quietly. Hold on, why was it so quite?

Looking up the street, you noticed that what was once where your target stood was now empty. There was no way he outran you, given that you would have heard his footsteps. To the right of you were the woods, maybe he took a detour?

No, everything felt wrong. Every single thought in your brain was screaming to run, to grab your gun that was hidden beneath your coat, to get out of here-

"Careful my dear, we wouldn't want you getting hurt now, would we?"

A cold blade found its way to your neck. Two very disturbing facts became known to you. First, was the fact that the blade was already stained red. And second, you were about to be the second kill of the night.

A million thoughts ran through your mind. Was this how you were going to die? How fast could you grab your gun? Would your employer be pissed off that you died in the job? With your eyes shut closed, you waited for the knife to make contact.

"Now now, there's no need to be so scared my dear! My, you look like a deer in headlights!"

...what?

Opening your eyes, you're met with the mysterious man who just had his weapon on you seconds ago. He seemed vaguely familiar, probably having seen him at the bar you frequent.

"It seems that I've caused you quite a scare. Do know that wasn't my intention. I just wanted to see for myself this new assassin I've heard so much about! You've caused quite the gossip, my dear. Makes good conservation."

You continued to stand in silence, with the initial shock of almost dying wearing off now. As mad as you were that you got caught, you were equally confused on just who this man was. With some more listening to his voice, the answer popped into your mind.

"You- you're that new radio host! Alastor, was it?"

Alastor's smile grew at the acknowledgment. "Indeed I am! Glad to know you've heard about me."'

Had anyone walked into the conversation you two were having, they would have assumed it was one between new acquaintances. In which one has a knife in their hand, while the other has a gun.

"You see, my dear, I've heard quite a bit about your line if work. While I am more than capable of... dealing with others, I propose that we work out some sort of deal. One where you can finally stop working for that employer of yours, and actually make a profit off your talents."

Alastor put out a hand, waiting, watching to see how you'd respond. It's been a long night for you, and you had a feeling that this wouldn't be the last time you saw. Plus, if working with him meant you'd finally have to stop answering to your boss, then why the hell not. You take his hand, before agreeing to this proposition.

"...and since then, we've been business partners. Our relationship kind of just happened after a few moths."

It was nice to look back to when you first met your now-husband. Looking around the bar, you noticed that you weren't just talking to Angel. At some point, unbeknownst to you, everyone at the hotel had come over to listen to your story time.

"Well toots, I figured you had to be some sort of crazy to date smiles, but I guess it takes one to know one." Angels says while taking a shot, still reeling with that fact that someone as kind as you was a killer. Head nods and murmurs of agreement spread within the group.

Before you could say anything, a pool of dark clouds appeared to your side. From the shadows, the very man you were taking about stood before you.

"Hey, Al."

He faces you with his signature grin, before turning to the rest of the residents.

"It seems that I've became the topic of conversion while I was gone! It's quite interesting to see how interested you all are in with me and my dear's meeting."

The hint of annoyance in his voice was entertaining, to say the least. You place a hand on his shoulder, barely hovering above it.

"Aww, come of Al! They just wanted to hear how we first met! Besides, it's a fun story to tell."

"If "fun" means almost killing ya for the first time, I'd hate to know what you guys did when you started dating-" "Shut up Angel!"

You answer a few questions that were asked before everyone eventually returned back to their previous endeavors. Husk and Angel eventually sit around with the others in the common room, leaving just you and Alastor at the bar.

"It's kinda funny, now that I look back at it."

Alastor doesn't say anything, promoting you to continue.

"That night, I almost turned down that job. I was painfully tired, and all I wanted to do was go home. It's crazy to think that we wouldn't have met had I not pushed myself to take the job."

Anyone who knew Alastor would know that him asking for a partnership was simply outlandish. Hell, Alastor himself questioned why he was seeking you out in the first place.

No, underneath he knew. He knew from the first time he saw you. It was a different time from when you both officially met. When he saw you, someone so seemingly innocent, skillfully take down a man twice your size, he knew that he had to meet you.

"Well, mon chéri, it's good that you did."

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader fluff #alastor x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin alastor x reader

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madamechrissy · 3 months ago

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♡ Time after Time ♡

♡ ♡ Pairings ♡ ♡ CEO! Satoru Gojo x Fem Reader

♡ ♡ Warnings ♡ ♡ MDNI- Just sexual tension in this chap hehe, more explicit as we go. Gojo is really a dick at first FYI

♡ ♡ Word Count ♡ ♡ 4.2k

♡ ♡ Summary ♡ ♡ Satoru Gojo is your boss And you've been his head assistant for over two years now. You do everything for him, including and not limited to cleaning his messes, picking out his clothes, and writing his speeches. Sixteen hour days... night calls... You are tired of being overworked and at his beck and call. You decide you are going to put in your two weeks notice. He is shocked, and wants to try to keep you, because you're the best. But you know better. Right? . You really wanna fucking quit. You also wanna fuck him. Also, fuck him.

A/N (Kinda has 'two weeks notice' vibes a bit! No use of y/n.) Fully finished. This was my first gojo fic so maybe a Lil less put together than my current ones

Masterlist-

Chapter 1

You looked up at him from your desk. You were tired, so damn tired. You needed a fucking break, a long one. Your mind wanders to that vacation away from Tokyo that will never happen, not because you don’t have vacation days or money. Nope, it was because you work far too fucking much, twelve to sixteen hour days sometimes. For him, your damn boss, Satoru Gojo.

Always asking you to stay late, always running his errands, saving his ass, covering for him. Writing speeches, making presentations, finding him dates even. When Gojo wanted something, he got it, and it didn't matter if it ruined every plan you ever had, you had to get it done for him.

He ran casinos, owned a hotel, a nightclub, you name it, Satoru Gojo owned it. He’d inherited some from his family but mostly he was self made. Even the tower you worked in, Kamo Tower, was one of the best in the city. Everything Gojo touched seemed to turn to gold, or better yet platinum.

You had been so excited two years ago to be his intern, then ecstatic when you quickly moved up the ranks to be his head assistant. You made good money, enough to send home to your family and take care of them too. But you literally were constantly at that man's beck and call.

Your tired eyes lower as you rest your chin on your hand for a moment, for even last night at two am you'd had to run to his fucking rescue.

You were asleep, but the phone never stops fucking buzzing.

Dick boss: I need you.

You: no.

Dick boss: triple OT pay?

You: fuck. What is it?

Dick Boss: I'm in a bit of a bind…

The bind? Three passed out naked women in his bed, and a room destroyed, that he needed to get fixed so he could sleep. Yeah.

The night before? Well he had urgently needed you to pick out his outfit for his soiree, he was too coked out to pick apparently. And Gojo Satoru had so many three piece suits, ties and shoes, it was actually disgusting.

Nanami Kento walks up to you, overworked from his own boss in the building, a trait you two share as head assistants. He hands you a cup of coffee in a styrofoam cup, with your name written on it in sharpie, clearly from one of the coffee shops nearby. If you had time to have a fucking life you would have flirted with him, for sure. Maybe he would have, too?

Dirty blonde and handsome, his suit stretched across his muscles just so… and fuck if he didn’t look like he needed a damn vacation too.

“Long night?” Kento asked, grabbing you out of your thoughts, an amused and tired expression on his face. You sigh, nodding.

“Thank you for the coffee. I owe ya one.” You let the sweet liquid hit your lips, eyes peering to Gojo's office. There was some lady in there, pretty as fuck in some crazy attempt at business stripper, but he for some reason was scowling at you. What, you dared to sip coffee and not work for two minutes?

“Not at all. Happy birthday.”

“Shit that’s today?” You teased, but you did know.

“We don’t really get birthdays.”

“Haha no we don’t. But thank you!”

“Of course. Take care of yourself okay? Gojo is… ugh.” Nanami looked disgusted as he shook his head, pushing up his fancy glasses. You couldn’t help but giggle at that as Nanami walked off.

Your phone rings, because of course Gojo can't just come to you, you must go to him. Your eyes roll.

“Yes, Sir?” You answer the phone, tapping your glittery manicured nails on your desk, the one treat you gave yourself.

“My office.” That silken command may have excited most women, shit, most human beings, but it was a source of annoyance for you.

“Coming.”

You sighed, hanging up the phone and sipping your coffee. The office coffee usually went cold daily with the amount of shit you had to do. You smooth down your dress, adjusting the buckle of your belt just a tad before walking towards the giant glass office.

Gojo’s office had floor to ceiling windows surrounding it that had a ridiculous view of the cityscape below. You all were on the top floor of Kamo Tower, after all. The air was filled with a faint scent, woodsy and fresh, a signature fragrance that lingered in the space, distinctive to Gojo.

As you enter, you see Gojo himself reclining casually in a lavish chair, his signature Gucci sunglasses on, covering those ridiculous blue eyes. Which you honestly appreciated because he made shit hard to focus, even after two years of working as his assistant.

“Sir?” You stand there cautiously, thinking of just putting in your notice then and fucking there, like that dream you had in your two hours of sleep.

“Status update on my meetings?”

“I sent you them all.” He smirked, arrogant. You grit your teeth. “You have two meetings today, Sir, one for the new hotel partnership, then you have a meeting with Mr. Suguru about your casino. And of course, you have your event tonight.”

“Speaking of that, I need you to come with me tonight for the charity ball.” You sigh, shutting the door behind you, resting your aching head against it.

“I asked for tonight off.” You murmur, and Gojo scoffs, grinning, damn fangs like some vampire glinting from the sun that beamed in. He stands, stretching his long elegant limbs, before he walks closer to you, making the scent of him waft through your senses.

“I'll pay you well. Plus you’ll be going as my date for the event, not going to make you actually work. You'll get to relax and shit. Drinks and food.”

“As your date?” You blink, pursing your lips.

“I know, it’s kinda a dream scenario.” He laughed at his own joke, a habit he certainly had.

“Since when does CEO Satoru need a date? Especially me . I can just arrange you a date like I always do.”

“It's a delicate partnership and I need someone who is smart. Not eye candy. I need you, law school girl. Plus you’re American, and a lot of the people there are too. So it’s a no brainer.” You sighed, the comment about eye candy biting.

Men hit on you pretty frequently, any time you weren’t working, which you could not say was very often. But of course Gojo banged models on the regular, and you had no time to look like a model, you barely had time to slap on some mascara and concealer every day to hide how tired you were.

“So you don't need anyone pretty… is what you're saying.”

He pauses then, frowning at you. “You're very pretty.” He'd never said that. He'd barely complimented your work. You catch your breath; looking up at him, curious how he had gotten just an inch away.

“‘Not eye candy.’”

“We'll no, you dress kinda boring… like business and shit. Not sexy at all. I mean I’ve never seen you not in a business dress unless it’s at night and I call you, then you wear pajama shorts and shit?”

You snort. “I would dress up if I had a life. All I do is work.”

“Exactly, that’s what I mean by not ‘eye candy’. How you dress, not your looks. But I'll make sure your outfit looks killer, no need to thank me.” Gojo winks at you, lowering his shades, those insane cerulean eyes making you overheat against your will. Big and glittering with silver, the irises the prettiest blue that the earth could scarcely recreate. Eyes that made anyone do anything he wanted.

You were almost immune to that by now.

“It's my fucking birthday and you want me to do overtime?” You demand, and frowns with those full lips.

“Birthday?” Gojo looks confused, as if you should not have one of them, for it’s inconvenient.

“Yeah. Twenty-sixth.”

He evaluates you. “Why did I think you were like twenty two?”

“I’m not sure. If I was I wouldn’t even have my law degree yet, baby face maybe. But it’s my third birthday here, and you never give me the day off. I will absolutely not put in OT.”

“What, you have plans, hot shot?” Gojo chuckles, his tone mocking.

No. Sure don't. “Yep.” You lie. He knows.

“Cancel em.” He shakes a hand dismissively and you scowl.

“No.” You cross your arms under your breasts, and his gaze darts down for the briefest of moments.

“No?” No one turned Gojo down. No one ever told the gorgeous CEO no. His six foot four frame hunched as he placed an arm on one side of you, peering down, frown still on his handsome features. You bravely glare back up at him.

“No. Gojo, I'm really exhausted, and I just want to have fun and actually relax for my birthday.”

“Have fun with me. And make killer money. Win win.”

“That's work. Not fun.”

“Hmm.” He tilts your chin up with his long fingers, making you peer up at him, surprised at the contact. “I'll make it fun. Promise. Then I'll give you the day off tomorrow. Deal?”

“I could find you a smart American girl? Eye candy too.”

“You're my best, though, I need you.”

Bastard.

“Ugh. Fine.”

He grins, and you catch a breath as he backs away. “Good. I'll have the outfit brought to your apartment later? I’m assuming you don’t have anything fancy enough for this one.”

“Probably not. Fine. Need my size?”

His eyes are drinking you in as he smirks. “You think I haven’t gathered your size by now?” Your cheeks overheat. Though you’re used to him, at the end of the day you still had a damn vagina, and it reacted to him. He chuckled deeply, turning away and waving a hand. “You're dismissed.”

Just like that, your birthday night was just work. Work for Gojo.

***

“Can’t wait to put in my two weeks ugh.” You grumble to yourself as you finish up your makeup, for once having fun with it. If you had to work your birthday you would absolutely look gorgeous for it. Lashes, winged liner, red lips.

The dress he had ordered laid in a satin box on your white day bed. You sigh, opening it finally, and you blink rapidly as you look at the gown encased in baby blue and white tissue paper, the colors of Gojo himself. You gently pulled out the gown and most of your irritation died off.

Black and decked with sequins, it glittered in the light, it was a velvety fabric, as soft as a caress. As you slid it on it glided over your curves, accentuating the nip at your waist, the arch of your hips. The neckline plunged ridiculously low, revealing a generous amount of cleavage that you typically kept under wraps at work. You wonder how Gojo knew you had just so much up top…

Pervert is what he was.

Pervert with killer taste.

The dress had a slit that went dangerously up one of your well toned thighs, exposing nearly all of one leg, while the rest of the dress hit the floor. It was if he truly knew every measurement you had, for the dress could not have hit any better. Those damn analyzing eyes of his…

You spun to look at the back of the dress, which dipped daringly as well, exposing an expanse of skin, from shoulder blades down to the dimples on your lower back. You rummage through your little cherry wood jewelry box, eyeing to see what would work with the dress. Luckily, everything went well with black, so you snatched up a pretty silver cross necklace and earrings.

A text pops up, and you read it.

Dick Boss: Waiting out front in the car.

You: Just a few.

You slip on your shoes and spritz some body spray on, your favorite from Victoria’s Secret you save for special things, then slide on a pair of black heeled boots, contemplating putting on underwear. Did it matter what kind? It wasn’t like you’d had any dick since like college at this point. And you definitely weren’t fucking Gojo, since neither of you were interested.

You because you saw the girls he fucked. Him because… you weren’t ‘arm candy’. Or a dumb ass bimbo. Sometimes you wished you were, since they seemed sweet and happy in life, while you drowned.

Dick Boss: I’m waiting…”

Fucking Gojo. Ugh. You decide to slide on some lacy boy shorts, just in case that slit did go too high you’d have some coverage. Peeking one last time at the mirror, you had to admit you looked beautiful. You text Gojo.

You: Coming now.

You locked up and headed down the stairs of the apartment building, and there was Kiyotaka, Gojo’s driver, opening the door of the black limo for you. Kiyotaka, who somehow was your age now. That boggled your mind more than Nanami. Gojo wore people out, very clearly, but even you had it easier than Kiyotaka.

“My lady.” He said sweetly, and you smiled at him, sliding in, and there Gojo was across from you, long arms spread across the backs of the seat, his head rested back so that his throat was exposed. His head snapped down, and he looked right at you, no sunglasses, only those eyes. His lips parted, and you tensed, prepared for some lewd comment or rude one.

He blinked those white spiky lashes, arms sliding down as Kiyotaka shut the door, gaze taking you in ever so slowly, as if he had all the time in the world. You felt yourself holding your breath as it lazily traveled down and back up your body, clutching your little black evening bag tightly.

“You look…” He trailed off, shaking his head a bit.

“Thank you for the dress.” You cut him off. He exhaled, nodding.

“Of course. Consider it my birthday gift. You look… really fucking hot.”

You giggled at that. Not beautiful or breathtaking. But you’d take it. “Thank you, the dress is so beautiful.”

“Your body is that banging and you hide it like that?” He was somehow right next to you now, and you shiver a bit at the nearness. “I should reprimand you.”

You roll your eyes. “I can’t dress like this at work.”

“You sure the fuck can. I’m the boss, I say so.” His fingertips trailed down your shoulder, and it sent tingles through your body. Why was he so close? “I’m buying you a new wardrobe.”

“The fuck you are. I like to be professional, unlike you.” You smack his hand off errantly, and your bare shoulder grew cold without the touch.

“You do really look good.” You took in his outfit, a black tux, which fit his slim muscles perfectly. It was some shit Bruce Wayne would wear. Maybe Gojo was some super hero or villain. It would fit.

“You do too. You always do.”

“I know.” He winked at you, leaning forward to snatch up champagne and pop it, pouring you both glasses. You took one, letting the bubbles tickle your nose, taking a sip of the sweet drink, moaning softly and shutting your eyes.

“Delicious.” You lick your lower lip and find him a breath away. You don’t move, but you’re frozen, confused as he looks at you like he never has. “Satoru?”

“Are you really thinking of quitting?” He asked softly. You have never seen Gojo like this.

“How did you know?”

“I know everything, baby girl.” He gently runs his long fingers through your hair, a rare frown on his lips.

“Baby girl? The fuck, Satoru. Yes I was thinking of it, an seducing me is not going to change my mind. Is that the point of this?” You demand, irritated, and against your better judgement, fucking horny. His eyes study your own seriously.

“If that was my intention, you’d damn sure know.” Each word was bit out, distinctive, and his hand tightened in your hair, far too strong, yanking your head back. You scowl up at him, your hands clenched into fists.

“Oh, would I?” You challenged him, notching your chin up a bit. He laughed but it was without humor.

“How many women have you heard me fuck in my office? How many have you had to send home? You think I don’t know how to fuck the shit out of you if I wanted to. You wouldn’t even be able to walk.”

Gojo’s whisper was against your lips, and you could taste whiskey on his breath, mixed with his mints he constantly sucked on. He wasn’t touching you, but he was so close you could feel him…

“I won’t fuck you though, so what’s the point of even joking about it. You don’t want me anyway. Not your type.” He snorted, and one of his big hands came to your waist, touching the bare skin of your back and wreaking havoc on every sense you’ve ever had.

“You know my type?” You nod. His thumb brushed under your breast, an action that made the peaks of your breasts tighten, aching against the sequined gown. Damn if his gaze didn’t drop down. You cursed yourself. “The women who entertain me aren’t necessarily my type.”

“Hmm.” It grew difficult to focus. You sip your champagne, leaning back a bit, but Gojo’s grip stays. “It doesn’t matter. You’re talking out of your ass. Too much cocaine tonight?”

His grip tightened, and it made you gasp, looking up at his darkened eyes in the dim light of the limo. “I haven’t had any. I’m just pretty fucking irritated my best assistant wants to leave. You’re ungrateful.”

“Ungrateful!” You snort at that, tossing back the champagne and grabbing at his hand, his wrist, trying to get him off of you. “How the fuck, Satoru? I literally do everything for you!”

“And I pay you damn good!”

“I know. I’d rather be broke somewhere than do sixteen hour days. It’s my damn birthday and here I am!”

“As if you really had plans. You have no friends and no life.”

“Bullshit.” You grit your teeth, shoving at his hard chest. “That’s because I have no damn time! You think I wouldn’t have a boyfriend or something by now?”

“Maybe that’s your problem, why you’re so bitchy and stuck up all the damn time. You need to get fucked good.”

You slapped him then. Slapped your Boss. Slapped Satoru Gojo.

His hand caught your wrist, brutally squeezing, pale cheek just hinted with pink from your mark.

“Ring a little true?”

“I can get fucked if I want.” You yank your hand back.

“I didn’t say that. Clearly you can get fucked. It’s just you don’t even want to and you blame it on my hours, as if you were the type.”

“I’d fuck Nanami Kento if I had any damn time.” Gojo’s eyes widened at that, and his grip on your waist became brutal. “Yep. Sure would. He’s built as fuck, oh and he remembered my birthday. If either of us had time I sure would. So does that answer it for you?”

Gojo bared his teeth at her, a little blue vein in his temple popping out. Your heart beats in your chest, brutally, the thudding loud in your ears. “You… would fuck… Nanami… Kento?”

Each of his words were forced through his teeth.

Ah, you made him mad.

Good.

“Who wouldn’t? He’s hot.” You try to shrug casually.

“Out of anyone in the office?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Including me.”

You open your mouth to say yes, but you know it’s not fucking true. Of course you’d have fucked Gojo, if he wasn’t a dick boss, if he was just a dude…

Look at him.

“Cat got your tongue?” His free hand caught your chin, forcing your gaze to his piercing one. You gulp, licking your lips.

“No.”

“No, what?” His voice was a wicked caress.

“No… not including you. Goddammit. Is that what you want to hear? That I’m not blind? Of course you’re attractive, and you know it, stupid!”

He scoffed. “You’re childish.”

“You!” You shoved at him again, and he let you go, grabbing your glass and refilling it, watching you like a hawk. “It changes nothing. I am planning to leave. I will find a replacement, someone even better than me.”

“There is no one better.” He sounded sincere, a rare thing for Gojo, emotion cracking in his voice as he downed his own glass.

“You think fucking me will keep me as your damn assistant?”

“It’s worth a shot. I’m the best fuck there is.” He shrugged, some of that casual demeanor coming back, and you wanted to yell at your body for its reaction.

“It won’t happen.”

“Yeah? Why?”

“You’re my boss!”

“But you’re leaving.”

“I…”

“Hmm? You seem at a loss for words.” You scowl, looking out the window as the lights flickered by.

“Are we there yet?”

“Childish.”

“Says you!”

“You need a good orgasm. Or ten. Get you to be less of a stuck up nag.”

“I do not! And I am not!”

“You do, and you are.”

“I orgasm plenty, thanks!” You felt your body on fire at that, and Gojo couldn’t look more satisfied, like the Cheshire fucking cat, the grin as wide as it could go, running his hand through his silken white locks.

“Oh, do tell.” He practically purred.

“Cut the shit, Satoru. You’ve never talked like this in the years I’ve worked with you, where the fuck do you get off?”

“I get off in women. Or on them.” He shrugged, enjoying your open mouth, once again lost for words.

“You know I did not mean that!”

“Where do you get off? On a dildo maybe.” You blinked, eyebrows low in a scowl, wanting to hit him again. “No, don’t look the type. Maybe a rose toy. Hmm… or just these little things.” Gojo lifted your hand, already small but ridiculously small in his own, swallowed by him. “They don’t hit deep enough, do they?” His whisper shook you to your core.

You burned, breathless, as he held out his own hand to yours, fingers so fucking long they rivaled the length of a dude’s dick. Likely larger than the couple of dude’s in college, which was about all of your experience. He grinned as you stared on, palm hot and hard against your own.

“I… you…” You wanted to cuss him out. Quit right then.

You also wanted his fingers in you.

“I could get you off, put you in a good mood. We don’t have to have sex for that.” His hand took your own, putting your hand by your heat, between your thighs.

“Why… are you…act- acting like this?” You managed to breathe out, but you had no energy to move away from him, or shove his hand off. Because if you were being honest with yourself, you’d love to ride your frustration out on him.

“Maybe I realize how much I need you to stay as my assistant.” Gojo’s supple lips kiss down your jaw, firm but delicate, as his hand brutally grabs yours and shoves it against yourself, moaning in your ear. “Is my assistant already hot for me? Are you that easy to get wet?”

“Fuck off.”

It’s a whisper. You want it. And you hate him. You hate that your pussy is pulsing against your joined fingers through the barrier of your panties, that the moan in your ear made you wonder what he sounded like when he came. Gojo slid his own finger against your panties, pausing, moaning again, pulling back to look at you.

He was gorgeous.

Your chest rose and fell with your breath.

“Fuck.” He whispered, and something was just different. You saw Gojo with women, always so self assured. But something seemed surprised, vulnerable, when his long finger pressed against the damp sticky fabric, just grazing your clit. You arched your hips up, and his fingertip ran up slightly, pressing more, and Gojo’s lips were just a breath away…

“We’re here, Sir, my Lady.”

Fuck.

You two shot apart, and you struggled to catch your breath, adjusting your dress, gulping down one more glass for good measure. Gojo adjusted his pants, not even looking at you, clearing his throat. You cursed as you saw his tie.

“You can’t tie a tie for shit, Satoru.” You leaned over to him, pulling it apart gently and re-tying it. You noticed his Adam's apple bob up and down. He was quiet. Satoru Gojo, quiet. “There.”

“Thanks.” He said gruffly, and your eyes met.

What the fuck just happened?

Kiyotaka opened the door, exposing them to some cool night air, and you got out, curious just how the fuck this birthday night was going to go.

Chapter 2

Completed fic on ao3, will post chaps on here as well

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55424137/chapters/140629990

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojo smut #jjk gojo #gojou satoru x reader #satoru x reader #jujutsu satoru #satoru x you #satoru x y/n #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #satoru gojo smut #jujustu kaisen #jjk fic #gojo fanfic #CEO Satoru Gojo

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queer-irritator · 3 months ago

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Roomies | Roommate!Wade Wilson x Roomate! GN! Reader

Inspo for this fic came from @lunasblunt via this post <3

CW: All the things that go along with Deadpool <3, hint at stalking

Word count: 3,107

You trudged up concrete steps to reach your front door. It had been a long, frustrating day at work so you hadn’t bothered to lift your head from your phone where you were currently placing an order for Chinese food. It wasn’t until your key refused to slide into the lock that your attention was torn from the delicious food on your phone.

After one more failed attempt to insert your key, you noticed a paper stapled to your door with the word ‘EVICTION’ typed in large red print.

“What the fuck?” You mumbled to yourself, eyebrows knit together in confusion.

You began to read the notice, apparently your piece of shit roommate hadn’t been paying their half of the rent the last few months. Sighing, you turned to face the street and sat on the cold steps and ran your hands down your face. This night really couldn’t get much worse.

After taking a few minutes to wallow in self pity, you got up and located your belongings that had been thrown in a disorganized pile next to the steps. There was no doubt in your mind some items had been stolen if they were outside all day. You rummaged through your belongings and packed up what you needed, now you just needed somewhere to crash.

Unlocking your phone, you scrolled through your contacts list hoping someone would be kind enough to accommodate you for the night.

‘Althea S.’

The name brought a smile to your lips, Al was a long time family friend and always was there for you in your hardest moments. You clicked on her contact information and gave her a call.

Of course, Al was happy to offer up her couch for as long as you needed. So, you were now stepping off the bus that dropped you off in front of her apartment. Rummaging through your bag for a spare key Al had given to you a few years ago, a gruff, low voice sounded besides you.

“You heading inside?”

Startled, you jumped slightly and placed your hand over your chest, “Oh, you scared me! I didn’t see you there.”

“I tend to have that effect on people.” the man replied, putting out a cigar he had been smoking.

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean that you were scary, I just…” You paused, it would probably be better to just move on, “But, yes. I am heading inside. Can’t find my key.”

The man was pretty tall. He had dark hair and quite an interesting facial hair style choice going on. And although he was wearing jeans and a flannel, it was obvious he was incredibly muscular and fit.

The man moved in front of you and unlocked the door and held it open.

You thanked him as you walked inside and he followed behind you. You started to make your way up the stairs to the third floor. Although the mysterious man wasn’t speaking, you still heard his footsteps behind you. You were telling yourself it had to be just a coincidence. That was, until he continued to follow you to Al’s door.

You had began to shake slightly from anxiety, this man has been following you and there was no way you could put up a fight with him. But you could sure as hell try. You turned around quickly, gripping your pepper spray in one hand.

“Can you please stop following me??” Your tone came out aggressive and confrontational, just as you had hoped.

“I’m not following you.” He said simply.

God, he was a bad liar. He wasn’t even trying to think of an excuse!

You used your thumb to slide open your pepper spray as you continued to try to get him to leave you alone, “Yes, you are. I know who lives in this apartment, so if you don’t leave I’m going to scream and then you’ll go to jail for being a fucking creep.”

“First of all, you can’t go to jail just for “being a creep”. Second of all, I live here!” He began to raise his voice.

You gave him two chances, so you quickly lifted your pepper sprays to his face and sprayed him in the eyes and began to bang on the door.

“What the fuck!?” The man squeezed his eyes shut and put his hands over his eyes.

“Al!! Open the door! I need help!!” You yelled while banging on the door.

The man was groaning in pain and trying to get his bearings when you heard a click and the door open. Without even looking, you ran inside and locked the door behind you.

“What the fuck is going on?” You heard Al’s voice behind you.

Panting, you dropped your bag and frantically began to explain the situation.

Al began to comfort you and rubbed your shoulder, “Wade, go see what the hell is going on.”

You hadn’t noticed before that there was a man sitting on the couch, eating popcorn and holding a hairless dog.

He groaned before getting up dramatically. He was only wearing a white t-shirt, blue and white striped boxers and white fluffy bunny slippers as he poked his head into the hall.

“Come here, sugar.” Al lead you to the couch and got you a glass of water and offered you some hits from the bong sitting on the table, which you gladly took.

While you were calming down, you heard muffled voices from the hallway. There was only two things you heard clearly.

It was the same voice as before, yelling again, “They fucking pepper sprayed me!” followed by who you assume is Wade, laughing hysterically.

The door opened and Wade walked in, but the man that had been following you also came inside.

“What are you doing?? That’s the guy that was following me!” You shot up from the couch, ready to become defensive.

“Well, obviously, a certain blind old lady has neglected to tell you that she has 3 roommates.” Wade explained.

“What?” You looked to Al, confused.

“Oh shit.” Al murmured, “Yeah, I guess I forgot a thing or two. Meet Logan and Wade.” She said, gesturing to the door, where the men no longer stood.

“Oh my god.” You brought a hand up to cover your mouth as guilt began to come over you.

Al had mentioned Wade and Logan in passing, but never told you they lived with her, or that they would be around tonight.

Logan was still wiping his eyes, but Wade had returned to his position on the couch.

You gingerly stepped closer to Logan, “I am so sorry, Logan… Is there anything I can do? I’ll get you some water.” You didn’t give him a chance to answer before you were in the kitchen filling up a glass of water and also wetting a dish cloth.

“Oh, don’t be sorry.” Wade piped up, “You’re my new favorite person now!”

Logan ignored him, “It’s fine… I can’t say I blame you.” He took the wet cloth from you when you returned and wiped his eyes and face with it.

“Well, I’m going to bed. Don’t pepper spray anyone else.” Al announced before heading to her room.

“Yeah, I think I’m gonna do the same…” Logan said before disappearing into the second bedroom.

Now you were left alone with Wade. You sat on the opposite end of the couch without saying another word. The only sounds filling the room were coming from the television and the crunch of popcorn.

Feeling awkwardness creep in, you decided to take another hit on the bong.

“Evicted? Yeeesh, that sucks.” The man beside you spoke.

You whipped your head toward him to see him rummaging through your bag, tossing your eviction notice over his shoulder and continuing his snooping.

“Uhm… could you maybe not go through my stuff?” You were aghast by the audacity of this man.

“I could, but I’m nosy. And you did just pepper spray my best friend.” He defended his actions as he examined a pair of your underwear.

You snatched the underwear and your bag from him, stuffing the garment back inside and zipping it up.

“Which I apologized for. And you didn’t seem too concerned for him earlier.” You tucked your bag next to you on the couch.

Wade shrugged and continued eating his popcorn, but just then a pink hello kitty watch he wore on his wrist went off.

“Oh, duty calls!” He set the bowl of half eaten popcorn aside and stood up.

You carefully watched him as he picked up a clump of red clothing from the floor and gave it a sniff. It must have passed the smell test because he kicked off his bunny slippers and got dressed in a red and black suit. After he equipped copious amounts of weapons to his holsters, he put on a mask and opened the door.

“See you later, sweet cheeks.” He winked at you before leaving.

After the night you had, you decided to just go to bed while you had some peace and quiet.

You had been staying at Al’s for about two weeks now. You got to know the boys better, and it only made you feel worse about pepper spraying Logan. He had insisted that you take the bedroom and he would put up with sleeping on the couch. Despite how many times you said no and refused, it was to no avail. He had practically forced you to take his room. Wade on the other hand was always coming and going at odd hours. You learned that he and Logan were mutants and hunted down criminals once in a while together, they called themselves Deadpool and Wolverine. Wade did most of his work on his own though, he described it as “beating up assholes”. You had only seen him a handful of times, but he was seeming to stick around a bit longer after returning from one of his adventures last night.

It was morning and you were cooking breakfast with Logan. The two of you had actually been getting along, despite the circumstances which you met. He was giving you a tip on knowing when bacon was done cooking when Wade had inserted himself in between the two of you.

“Hey! Glad to see my two peanuts are getting along!” He said, slinging his arms over yours and Logan’s shoulders.

Logan was quick to shrug his arm off, “Go feed your rat dog, Wilson.”

Wade did a theatrical gasp, “Don’t you EVER call her that again! She is a beautiful angel!” He walked over to pick up Dogpool and cuddle her.

“That’s my good girl! Yes, you love your Papa, don’t you?” He cooed and baby-talked Dogpool as she licked his face.

You had been watching him and chuckled to yourself. Logan glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. He saw the way you looked at Wade. At first he thought it was you pitying him, but the more he observed, the more he could tell you definitely had a crush.

“I’m gonna finish this up, it’ll be ready in 10 minutes.” Logan said as he began to cook some pancakes.

You nodded at him and headed to your room, giving a big smile to Wade and Dogpool as you passed them. You sat on your bed and pulled out your computer, continuing your daily search for a new apartment.

It only took about two minutes until Wade had appeared in your doorway. You glanced up and acknowledged him with a quick ‘Hi’. You tried to focus on your task at hand, but Wade was a hard person to ignore.

He looked around the room and took a few steps inside. He picked up one of the stuffed animals you had displayed in a net and played with it for a few seconds before putting it back. Coming further into the room, he swung his arms by his side and blew a raspberry into the air. He looked at a few more of your things strewn about the room before he was at the edge of your bed, looking over your shoulder.

“Getting tired of us already?” He commented, sitting next to you.

You looked over at him and chuckled, “I’m just staying here until I get a new place. Remember the eviction notice you found snooping in my bag?”

“Ohhh yeah, I almost forgot about that!” He thought back fondly on the night you met.

His presence being so close to you made your heart beat pick up speed and breath shake slightly. You couldn’t deny your attraction to Wade. Especially when he would get home late, sweaty, beaten, and bloody, still in his suit. God, that suit. It made him look so damn good.

“What about that one?” He lifted his arm to point at your screen, arm brushing against yours in the process.

You clicked on the listing, “Well, if you have $6,000 laying around every month for rent, we could get it.” You chuckled.

“We?” Wade repeated your words, looking at you.

You felt your cheeks heat up, “Well, I can’t afford it…”

Before Wade could make a snide comment, Logan knocked on your open door.

“Breakfast is ready.”

You took the excuse to close your laptop and quickly get up and get some food.

Wade trailed behind you, but stopped when his phone rang. He dug his hand into his pocket and answered the call. You couldn’t help but listen in as you began to eat.

“Okay! Don’t get your nipples in a twist, I’ll be there in ten minutes.” Wade groaned and hung up, leaving to go change into his suit.

It was starting to piss Wade off how much he had been working the past few weeks. He had barely had any time to get to know you. When he re-emerged, ready to take out some bad guys, minus the mask, he grabbed a piece of bacon.

“It’s like no one wants to kill evil masterminds themselves these days!” He commented, mouth full of food. He picked up a pancake and shoved it in his mouth before pulling on his mask.

“Thanks for breakfast, peanut.” He said, ruffling Logan’s hair.

He was greeted with adamantium claws in his side, “Don’t fucking touch me.”

Wade groaned in pain but quickly laughed it off, “Someone woke up on the wrong side of the Outback today.”

You grimaced, the squelching sound of blood dampening your appetite. You were just glad the Deadpool suit’s colors hid the blood stains.

Logan’s claws retracted and Wade walked to the door, “You don’t have to play hard to get in front of company, pookie bear.” He winked and blew a kiss towards you and Logan before leaving.

“I swear, one day I’m going to find a way to kill him.” Logan muttered before continuing to eat.

You chuckled and drank some coffee, the dynamic Wade and Logan had never failed to make you laugh.

Later that night Logan and Al had gone out to a bar, but you elected to stay in. It was around 10:30 when Wade came home. When we walked through the door he looked a little worse for wear, more than usual.

His posture was hunched forward and his shoulders were hanging low. You could also see multiple bullet holes in his suit. You got up from where you had been sitting on the couch with Dogpool.

“Wade? Did you have a rough day?” You questioned, voice laced with concern.

“You could say that.” He replied, flopping onto the couch with a sigh.

“What happened?” You noticed a bullet hole in the middle of his forehead on his mask which he just started to take off.

“Just- God dammit.” He muttered to himself, struggling to find the seam of velcro to peel off his mask.

“Let me help.” You said, scooting closer to him so your thighs were brushing together.

Wade set his hands down on his lap as yours gently removed his mask and placed it on the coffee table. You gave him a sweet, sympathetic smile when you saw the defeated look on his face.

“You can talk to me.” You gently encouraged him, placing a hand on his knee. He looked down at your hand and then back to your eyes. He leaned back against the couch, “The asshole got away today.”

“I”m sorry.” You mirrored his movements and removed your hand from his knee.

Wade immediately missed the warmth of your body heat on him. He closed his eyes as he silently cursed himself. He wasn’t supposed to feel like this again, a dull ache in his chest and a pit in his stomach whenever you looked his way or touched him in passing. After Vanessa left, he didn’t want to love someone ever again. But then you just had to walk into his apartment.

You had been staring at Wade the entire time, your heart breaking for him. While you sat in silence you were racking your brain for a way to cheer him up.

“Oh, I got a really cute picture of Dogpool earlier!” You chimed up, grabbing your phone off the table and searching for the photo.

Wade stared at your face while you scrolled through your phone. When you presented the photo to him, he didn’t move his head to look at it.

“Can I kiss you?” He questioned, voice lower and more serious than you’ve heard it before.

His question left you stunned, “...Huh?” You were still holding up your phone displaying a picture of Dogpool asleep on her back, tongue hanging out as always.

“Can I kiss you?” Wade repeated himself. Your heart fluttered and you lowered your phone, “Uhm… yes.” You nodded.

Wade leaned forward and captured your lips, placing one of his hands on the couch on the other side of you.

You closed your eyes and leaned into his kiss. His lips were surprisingly soft as you gently moved against them. Wade let go first, leaning away from you to gauge your reaction.

You looked at him, slightly puzzled, “Why did you stop?”

“Just making sure I don’t scare you away.” He smirked, but you could tell there was truth hidden in his words.

You sat up and swung a leg over Wade and straddled his hips and rested your hands on his shoulders.

“You could never.” You whispered to him, inching closer to his face.

That must have been all he needed to hear, because Wade was grabbing the side of your face and crashing his lips together with yours once again.

#deadpool #wade wilson #deadpool x reader #wade wilson x reader #deadpool x gn reader #wade wilson x gn reader #logan #logan howlett #wolverine #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool and wolverine fanfic #deadpool fanfic #deadpool fanfiction #poolverine #gn reader

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zivazivc · 3 months ago

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Because of a recent ask about the dad's name I am dropping this old drawing that should go along with a oneshot I doubt I'll ever finish because I don't like it anymore, so better I just put this out there.

The dad's name is Keanu and his husband's name is Wave. I don't actually know anything about them but here they are 😅

And you can find a portion of the unfinished fic with this scene under the cut. Warning: Floyd is a mess. A much much bigger one than I actually/currently think his present self is, hence why I don't like this so much anymore (and it was never meant to be canon to my ex bandmates au anyway). It's still pretty funny though.

. . .

Before Bruce could notice the change in Floyd’s mood his eyes caught movement behind him by the entrance to the restaurant. His grin eased down into a more relaxed smile for him to return to business.

“We have another troll family coming in,” he said and turned around to pick up a set of small, freshly-printed and laminated menus from the counter. “Been getting quite a number of those since we hosted the concert.”

Floyd snatched them from his hand, eager to push the replay of his anxiety to the back of his mind, and get back to work. “I’m on it," he said determinedly. "You take care of the big guys.”

He didn’t even know if he could handle carrying another Vaycaytioner-sized family-sized order of food. He hogged the regularly-sized troll customers as much as he could.

The new guests had settled behind one of the small inflatable plastic tables in the pool area close to the entrance where the sun was shining through. Even with their lower halves submerged in water, Floyd could immediately tell that they were Techno Trolls from the way their hair flowed in the air, like gravity was just an afterthought to them.

Once he got closer, Floyd saw that it was presumably two dads around his age with their two kids. His eyes immediately glued themselves to the older, more physically attractive of the two men, because that’s what he always seemed to find himself doing in these situations. Not that it was his fault the guy was hot and Floyd had been grounded to perfume bottles, armadillo RVs, and underground bunkers for months on end.

When he made it to the pool edge and stood right above their floating table, he finally caught himself gazing. He blinked and reeled his stupid horny thoughts back in before he would do something dumb like bite his lip and give him the bedroom eyes in front of his husband and kids. Not that something like that had been completely beneath him in the past. But he was currently on a shift in his brother’s restaurant, so…

He put on a more acceptable, family-friendly smile.

“Hi, welcome,” he said easily, sounding nothing like how his spasmodic thoughts felt in his head. “How’s everyone doing? You guys hungry?”

He crouched down and leaned over the edge of the pool to hand them the menus.

“Starving, actually,” the attractive techno troll said with a friendly laugh in his voice, and leaned over the inflatable table to grab them. And Floyd’s eyes traveled down that toned arm and exposed stomach. Not only did he ooze the confident, warm charisma of someone who had his life together, he was also fit. Floyd almost fell into the pool in his attempt to accidentally brush fingers with him. The guy was back in his spot in the water before either of those things happened, much to Floyd’s relief and disappointment.

He straightened up and pulled up his notepad and pencil almost like a shield. Fuck, Floyd, get your head straight! “Can I get you anything to drink while you decide what you'll have?”

“Nah, I think we’ll look first,” the guy replied without lifting his eyes as he handed the menus to the rest.

Floyd was about to give up on his first round of trying to get this man’s attention, and sigh in relief that his stupid wants weren’t being entertained, when he registered a different set of eyes staring hard at him. He glanced to the left, to the other guy behind the table.

The intensity of the glare nearly made Floyd recoil.

His first thought was: Shit, I wasn’t even trying to be obvious. Because when he was, the angry stares he would receive from jealous boyfriends or girlfriends were usually heated and flustered, not intensely sharp and cold. The steadiness with which he was being pinned didn’t even feel like a newly developed loathing.

Shit was also Floyd’s second thought. He’s looking at me like we know each other… I haven’t already fucked his man before, have I? Floyd wasn’t so good with faces or names …or memory in general when it came to certain episodes in his life. But surely the hot husband would have remembered him at least…

Then his mind wandered to the other possibility. Did we fuck??

Whenever he tried to iron out his life, his stupid past actions always seemed to come back to bite him in the ass. He really hoped this wasn’t one of those cases.

He stared at the troll’s face, trying to place him somewhere. Techno Troll (that didn’t narrow it down that much), hair in two different gradients of blue, dark purple skin, a younger-looking face even for a Techno Troll, bright green eyes, and green freckles…

Sweat broke down Floyd’s back, and it had nothing to do with his recovering physical condition.

He swallowed uncomfortably and instinctively pulled his pencil and paper slightly closer to his chest. His eyes finally looked over to the other side of the inflatable table. He had only briefly glanced at the kids before, enough to know they were kids and uninteresting. But looking at them now… Floyd immediately deviated a couple of shades from his natural hue.

Neither had any of the hunky dad’s warm colors; in fact, the kids weren’t even fully Techno. They were mixed like his friend Liv. The scarce strands of thin, luminescent Techno cords were nearly swallowed up by dense, fluffy, regular hair. The girl—they were a boy and a girl—was lounging on a pool float with her feet in the air, and Floyd could see that instead of flippers, she had legs with the unusually webbed feet, kind of something like an amphibian. The other kid—the boy—had skin that didn't have the dim effect or rubbery texture to it that Techno Trolls normally had, and it was an uncomfortably familiar shade of turquoise. Both of them sported hot pink bangs over their eyes.

“Ah,” Floyd uttered out loud like some kind of dumbass.

The three heads who had been engrossed in the restaurant menu all looked up, surprised to see him still standing there. Floyd evaded their gazes only to lock eyes with the purple troll again.

He… He was the kid from the week-long, non-stop techno rave, back when Floyd had been deep in his sour worm addiction and going through a long manic episode to top it off… At one point during the party someone brought out pure citric acid and Floyd blanked out for three days straight after that, only to wake up in an unfamiliar bed with a double surprise…

It was like a switch, but now Floyd could clearly remember the young adult version of this troll floating around his dorm room with the egg from Floyd’s head in his hands, panicking about how his parents were going to kill him, all while Floyd silently lay in bed contemplating if he should mention the other egg stuck in the kid's hair or if he should just say he’s going to the bathroom and then never return.

“Uhm.” He swallowed uncomfortably, wanting to be anywhere but here. Maybe not the crystal bottle, but anywhere else. “…I think I should get you a different waiter…”

The purple troll’s glare did not waver in the slightest. “I think so too.”

Floyd took that as permission to bail on him a second time. He turned around on his heel and practically ran from the pool edge.

“Keanu, you good?” he heard the husband ask, sounding obviously confused about what just transpired.

Well, at least Floyd knew what to call that troll in his head now instead of just "kid"…

. . .

#trolls #dreamworks trolls #my art #trolls oc #eddy m #ravin #techno trolls #keanu #wave #fanfic #trolls floyd #answered #bright colors #eye strain #saturated colors

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beefboyandbabygirl · 1 year ago

Text

Girl Code (18+)

pairing: student!jihoon x student!reader

genre: college au, angst, smut (MDNI), lotta crack, friends to...?

description: when you and your friends find out jihoon's been writing down everything you've off-handedly said about "girl code", you simply have to know why.

warnings: brief bondage/restraint, heavy insecurity on readers part, self-doubt, dirty talk, pet names, dom!uzi, sub!reader, desperation, oral (f. receiving), praise (f. receiving), muscly uzi, unprotected sex (dont do it guys....), pining, bad writing, red velvet are your friends, theyre super fun, mingyu is excluded badly, he just wants to b a part of it :(

quotes from my creative director (@joshibambi): "i am simply a hole for him", "pussy? wet. heart? pounding. me? yearning", "every1 talks ab sapphic yearning but what ab just. jihoon-yearning?",

wordcount: 12.0k

a/n: idk why but this is deffo not as good as my previous works. n e way also sorry to @onlyseokmins bc i promised her a seokmin fic WHICH IS STILL COMING i just felt like this was kinda genius and needed to happen first ok bye

It’s mid-spring, and the world is blossoming and flowering around you. Grass sprouts greener, plants drink in the heavy rainfall and flowers are blooming, slowly unfurling their pedaled heads to crane into the beautiful sky. At odds with nature, people walk the street to be drenched in the downpour, only to be dried off by the shyly peeking sun, and to have freckles surfacing on their skin and hair, getting frizzy from the humidity, when they’re biking along the streets. It’s serene, it’s natural. You’re reminded to love the place that birthed and fostered you.

But that’s out there.

You’re sitting, bottom planted firmly on the sticky surface of Joshua Hong’s couch, looking distantly into artificially colored lights, flickering across the floor, where people are dancing on one another in skimpy outfits and makeup, and everything is very far from the moon and the flowers.

“The second one is a lie!” Seulgi yells over the music, cup of god knows what in her hand, and slurring her words.

Sitting on the couch and stools surrounding the coffee table is you, Mingyu, Soonyoung, Seulgi, Irene, Yeri and Jihoon.

“No, I know she likes anal!” Screams Soonyoung giddily (forever oblivious to his surroundings), receiving a glare from your roommate, Yeri. You were currently playing two truths and one lie, and attempting to discern whether Yeri was lying about being on television, lying about having black belt in taekwondo or lying about having tried anal. “It’s about whether or not she’s tried it!” Irene rolls her eyes and huffs. “My point still stands,” Soonyoung grins and eyes Yeri, and you watch somewhat disgusted, reminding yourself to ask her about it later.

You’re sitting next to Mingyu, utterly small next to him, and the two of you are only watching the scene unfold, sharing snickering glances when something funny happens. “I’ve never done taekwondo!” Yeri screams at Soonyoung, and you and Mingyu fall back in your seats laughing and slapping each other, when Soonyoung’s face drops for a moment.

“They’re so dumb!” Mingyu cries, and you nod buried in a decorative pillow.

“Screw this noise, I’m finding Junhui,” Hoshi mumbles, a little deflated from his loss. Then he’s standing up, cargo-pants and all, and trudging away, pouting over his shoulder when he hears the laughing continue.

Jihoon - who’s been incredibly quiet and observant throughout the night, only sipping a single bottle of beer, slaps his thighs. You’re hoping in his ever searching eyes he hasn’t seen the way you’ve been staring at him all night. Are you drunk or is he so complex and sexy, and wearing a t-shirt that shows his huge arms and pants that show his thick thighs? You’re almost certain you can chalk this up to only ever seeing him in sweaters that totally swallow him - almost. “I’m going too,” he announces, standing up and not leaving much room for argument.

“Why? I’ll be the only guy,” Mingyu whines, pout pushing out his bottom lip. You scoff. You know he loves feeling like he’s one of the girls. “Paper,” Jihoon says, and adds more, when he realizes he’s being so curt it’s almost rude: “Tomorrow. I have a paper tomorrow.”

The group seems to accept this, knowing the stresses of college are weighing on each of them heavily. But your eyes narrow. You’re not buying it.

You watch him sling his jacket across his body, biting back more words. He’s quiet, sure, but never this quiet. With how he’d slumped back in his seat all night, almost bent into himself, there must be something bugging him. Jihoon’s eyes meet yours. It’s a half a second, but you feel like he knows you’re on to him, the way he hides his face under his long, black hair again and turns his back to you. All of a sudden he’s hurrying away, excusing himself half-heartedly. You narrow your eyes even further and purse your lips.

“Be right back,” you say. Seulgi pouts.

You’re trudging after him, fussing with your hair all of a sudden and adjusting your dress and - God, you care so much how he sees you. But you suppose you care more that he’s okay. That’s why you’re squeezing through the dancefloor, getting grinded on by several anonymous bodies, before pushing out to the entrance and finally breathing air that wasn't coming directly from someone else’s mouth.

“Jihoon, wait-”

You catch up to him by the doorway, where he’s stopped his journey, to slip Vernon a bill for a ziploc of mediocre weed.

“Jihoon!”

Finally, he hears you and he turns to you, where you’re regaining your last leg from the mass of bodies. Vernon is apparently still sober enough (you wouldn’t have thought so) to understand time and place, so he gently pushes past the two of you into the crowd.

You’re not ready for the look he gives you. Eyes so sharp and face darkened from his shaggy hair, curling into his face, and frowning and furrowing his brows as if he couldn’t understand why you’re here.

It sends your out-reaching body slamming backwards. You’re shrinking away from him, eyes flitting downwards self-consciously. You consider your history with him for a moment, weighing it in a glass of vodka-cranberry. This is pathetic, you realize, and it feels terrible. You’re pathetic and desperate and clingy and why would you feel the need to ask him this.

And then one moment to the next you’re scolding yourself for thinking that way. For thinking it was wrong to reach out a helping hand.

Jihoon apparently has enough of you debating with the angel and the devil on your shoulder, because he speaks finally: “What is it?”

There’s a pause.

“Are you okay?”

Another pause. You watch Jihoon’s face soften in shock, mouth falling open for a split second, before he’s closing it again and looking away. The ziploc crunches in his fingers, when they tighten and he shoves it into his inner pocket.

“I’m good,” he says.

“Okay.”

And this time and even longer pause! You can barely take it, the way he looks at you, and it almost feels like he suspicious of you, like he’s trying to discern what you’re doing here in front of him.

“Have a good night,” you say. He nods slowly and begins to walk off, and you watch him and the way the moonlight fills the entrance, so you’re coated in for a moment. Then it disappears with a slam of the door. You let out a shaky sigh.

Why did you do that? Why would you even think to do something like that?

You decide against standing there for any longer, not allowing yourself to overanalyze it, and you turn around to go back to your friends. Yet again comes the song and dance of trying to navigate the most terrifying human cesspool, face scrunching up in disgust as you make your way back to the sofa, almost unscathed, except you think you accidentally got caught in an armpit.

“Y/n! Come quick, so you can be a part of this momentous- momentous.. Moment!” You hear Mingyu calling and when he’s finally in view, you realize something very, very terrible is about to happen.

Mingyu’s holding a leather notebook between his fingers - Jihoon’s notebook. It’s the one he’s always writing in; the one he shuts closed whenever anyone gets too close, the one he keeps tucked under his arm at all times; the one he’s inexplicably writing in, even if he’s blasted on Vernon’s weed. And it’s private and he’s somehow forgotten it.

“We’re not opening it,” you say immediately, power-walking back to your spot in the couch. Mingyu snaps his head towards you, and he almost looks offended at that. “What do you mean we’re not opening it, of course we’re opening it!”

“It could be private, Gyu!” You retort and Seulgi chimes from her spot on the couch: “I’m with Y/n.”

“No, what? Fuck you guys! We’re seeing what’s in that notebook!-” Irene spits. “Thank you!” Mingyu says.

“Yeri, it’s up to you,” you say, eyeing your roommate sharply, as you sit down again. The entire group turns to her, fury behind their retinas, and she gulps, shrinking a little.

“Me, I just…” she shrugs abashedly and trails off. There’s a moment where you think she’ll side with you and leave the poor boy alone. You have some semblance of faith in your friendship, and maybe, maybe she’ll back you-

“He’s a music major, it’s probably just angsty lyrics, now open!”

“Yes!” Irene and Mingyu gloat, and despite wanting to respect his privacy, you scoot closer to Mingyu (he scoffs at you, but does not mention it further, as he is itching with curiosity). With a solemn, heaved sigh, as if about to unfurl the world’s grandest mysteries, Mingyu’s large hand flips the book open.

There’s no justified way to put word to the shock that follows this. The first page reads:

“Girl Code Rule #1

Guys should bring flowers on the first date. Either lilies, roses or tulips. Depends on vibe.”

There’s a confused silence - as much as silence as you can get from a bass-boosted room of drunk college students.

“What?” Irene quacks in disappointment, leaning closer to read it again. “Why-.. Go to the next page.” And Mingyu does, turning over the page and the next couple of pages follow suit.

“Girl Code Rule #2

Whoever offered the date pays for dinner. First date should always be dinner, ‘none of the bowling crap’.

Girl Code Rule #3

Guys are more attractive the more hygienic they are.

Girl Code Rule #4

It’s an ick to wear skinny jeans. *Google what an ick is.”

They come one after another, each more confusing than the last, and it’s not until number 5, that the heavy, suffocating spread of realization begins blooming among you. Clarity - your minds open like leaves of a flower in spring.

“Girl Code Rule #5

The cinema on Attacca street is a nightmare and we hate them. Never go there.”

“That’s-” you begin.

“Us!” Yeri finishes, pointing her finger at the page but directing her eyes, wide and pupils small from shock, towards you. The group exchange gaping glances. It’s undeniable - the cinema thing is relating to an incident that had happened months prior. You refuse to go into detail, but it had gotten grim.

“These are all things we’ve said!” Seulgi snatches the book out of Mingyu’s hold, beginning to mindlessly scroll through the book with furrowed brows, etch growing deeper and deeper in outrage.

“That’s- This is crazy. That’s so not cool!” You shriek and Yeri nods in agreement: “Girl code is for girls only!”

There’s a general agreement on the outrageousness of this. That is, except for one big boy on the couch.

“I meaaaan,” Mingyu is looking a little sheepish sitting in the middle of you and Yeri and Seulgi and Irene. All eyes flit towards him, small and sharp. He’s talking slowly, lowly and carefully: “You guys have to have said it out loud while he was there, so you weren’t exactly being discreet…”

“Men don’t usually listen to women, we thought we were in the clear!” Irene hisses.

“No man has ever listened to me in my entire life,” Seulgi deadpans, looking at Mingyu from beyond the book. Mingyu throws his hands out, incidentally hitting Yeri in the face, and ignoring her pained groans when she falls back on the couch. “I listened. Just now. Check that off your list-”

“Why is he writing this down..?” You mumble, seemingly the only one grasping the gravity of the situation (although maybe there is none? You can never tell when it’s with him) and it truly is such a mystery. Was he attempting to pry open the minds of women? You don’t exactly think he has trouble finding dates, so you’re left a little at a loss.

“Let’s ask him-” Mingu says.

“He just left, dumbass,” Irene spits and you can tell she’s almost disgusted with herself for ever siding with him.

“Let’s ask him tomorrow, then, after class,” you say decidedly.

“Ugh, don’t talk about tomorrow..” Yeri groans, and you can see the regret settling in because why do all the hot guys throw weeknight parties? “Y/n, can we go home?” she asks and you’re nodding immediately.

“Seul?”

“Yep.”

And in the span of just a couple of seconds, your entire friend group is packing up, Seulgi stuffing the book into her tote bag. Mingyu’s still sitting, much smaller when you’re standing over him, and when he has that almost starstruck look on his face. “I’m so glad I’m a part of this, guys.”

“You’re not.”

“Yes, I am,” Mingyu counters, clearly thinking otherwise. He’s grinning stupidly. “Hey, wait, where are we confronting him tomorrow?” he calls out suddenly, but you’re already on your way out.

“GUYS! WHERE ARE WE MEETING?” _____________________________

You, Yeri, Seulgi, and Irene sit side by side on the middle-back row in class, eyeing Jihoon from the peaks. It’s a quiet, morning class, and the teacher rambles on while the four of you glare down at him. Or at least they glare. You hope it’s not noticeable how there’s something softer in your eyes - something almost tender. He’s fidgeting a little. Maybe he feels the pairs of eyes on the back of his black-buried head or maybe he’s noticed the book is gone and he feels the consequences coming.

It was certainly a strange situation to tackle. Mingyu did have a point, if it was a private conversation, you certainly had not discussed it as such. And even then, was there a crime in what he was doing? You just couldn’t understand how Jihoon possibly felt the need to garner all this information on women. He’d never had trouble picking up girls. You would know.

You shake the terrible, terrible thought away, when Irene speaks up: “The coward is all nervous.”

“Okay, let’s calm down. We can’t know he’s an evildoer, before we find out his true intentions.” Seulgi reasons, a hand soothing over Irene’s arm. Yeri nods softly. “God, I wish class was over.”

And suddenly it was. Well, twenty more minutes of suffering through a class that was totally lost, picked up by the pollen-saturated wind. Then the professor is excusing himself and wiping the board.

Never in your life had your group been so fast at packing up their things, pencils and computers shoved down bags, before you’re strutting (model-walking) over to Jihoon. “We need to talk to you,” Yeri says, once she’s in front of his desk, hand on the wood. Jihoon looks up from where he’s packing his bag, eyes peeking through the thick strands of hair. He nods. He knows.

As you wait for students to exit the class (Minghao giving Jihoon a confused grimace, before he squeezes out), you study Jihoon. He’s still sitting, and you’re all towering over him. His pale skin is glowing in the light and he purses his lip and bounces his leg - God, his thick leg - in nervous await.

Students are slipping out the door in droves and when the last, tired body escapes, Seulgi reaches into her bag and pulls out the leather-bound book. “We read it.”

“I figured,” he mutters. He’s avoiding your eyes, flinching a little when Irene slams her hand onto the book. “So, why have you been writing down the girl code?”

Jihoon sighs. His lips make a tight line, and you can see how he wonders what to say. The pause would’ve been more tense had you not had the girls with you.

“The girl code is for girls only,” Yeri supplies.

“Well, you weren’t exactly being discreet about it-”

“Just answer the question, Jihoon!” Seulgi snaps, crossing her arms over her chest. “This is, like, top-level strange.”

“Alright!” Jihoon throws his hands up in the air. His eyes flit to you, totally quiet and scratching your nails on the wooden table. You look away. He sighs a little. “I… It’s..”

You almost want to hug him when he buries his face in his hands, tugging at the ends of his hair.

“You can’t tell anyone.”

The four of you exchange glances.

“We won’t.”

He pauses.

“It’s.. IhaveacrushonthisgirlandIdon’twanttomessitup.”

There’s a beat, where the information glides cooly into your skulls and you begin to process. Jihoon - cold, cynical, loner Jihoon - has a crush on a girl and is trying to improve himself for her?

Holy hell.

“Jihoon!” cries Seulgi and Irene chimes in, equally as adoring and diffused: “That’s so cute, you should’ve just said something!”

There’s an uproar of coos and cries and oohs and ahhs and compliments being thrown at Jihoon and he just sits there, cheeks blazing bright red, although with a little, shy smile on his lips.

And then there’s you. It’s so dumb. Why can’t you help the slight disappointment that lowers on you, like the fog does in the blooming season? Why can’t you smile wider, happier for Jihoon? Why do you feel this way? Does it really take all this commotion for you to realize how much you want him? You half-smile and look at your shoes. Just as how your feelings blossomed like a flower in spring, you hope they, too, are destined to wither away once more.

“Congratulations,” you say to him, giving him a dignified nod. Jihoon looks at you for a moment, before he smiles tightly and thanks you.

“Jihoon!” Yeri says, and you know you’re about to hate her for what comes next: “We can totally help you with the crush!”

Jihoon’s eyes widen. “Really? I mean- you guys don’t have to-”

“No, no! You can come to our girls’ nights and we can tell you everything!” Irene cuts in, nodding in reassurance. Jihoon smiles to himself a little sheepishly.

“Who is it?” Seulgi asks, and you can tell her heart is triple its usual size.

“I’m not telling you.”

“Come on!” Seulgi begs, but Jihoon is steadfast. He gives her cheeky smile and shakes his head again. “No way. It’s my secret.”

“We can keep a secret!” Yeri begs, bending her knees in plea. You, unusually quiet, speak up again: “We can.”

There’s a pause while Jihoon looks at you again. He narrows his eyes and it’s almost like he’s trying to decode you. Maybe he’s noticed you’re just as quiet as he was, at that party. You hate yourself when your heart picks up at the thought of him caring about you.

Suddenly he’s snapping out of it and smiling and shaking his ruffled head of hair again. “No. If girl code was supposed to be a secret, then I don’t even wanna think about telling you.”

This time there’s no talkback, only somewhat embarrassed nods.

“We deserve that.” _____________________________

You come back to your dorm room that afternoon, and lie down in bed. Thoughts of Jihoon plague your mind and you feel disease-ridden, attempting to push away the thought with the same useless reminder: You should do your paper, gotta do your paper now, it’s due very soon…

But no matter how many times you tell yourself, you can’t overcome the crushing feeling in your chest, like your entire rib cage is being compressed.

You know when these emotions started. It was at the Halloween party, six months ago, and Jihoon had been wearing a cop-outfit and you, with a more humorous approach, a lobster costume (Mingyu was a chef). Somehow, he’d still found you sexy though, because he was laughing in the bathroom of Seungcheol’s frat house, ripping the costume off of you.

“I can’t believe I’m gonna fuck a lobster,” he’d said in between kisses, laughing again as he caught sight of the costume, discarded on the floor. You giggled. “Me neither. There are plenty of fish in the sea, you know?”

And he’d thrown his head back, still with that black hair, still in that sexy fucking uniform, and his nose all scrunched and adam’s apple bopping in time with his joyful laughter. “Stop making me laugh while I’m trying to get you wet!”

“I’m already wet,” you’d shrugged, “you’re hot.”

And before you knew it you were handcuffed and he was rutting into you against the sink. His cock was disappearing and reappearing from your pussy, hooked onto him like a vice. Groaning and listening to your withheld moans, he’d left the most sinful hickies along your shining neck, while mumbling desperate praises to you: “You’re so pretty, N/n, letting me have you like this, so fucking hot.”

You supposed you’d buried those feelings, because you felt so pathetic for catching feelings from a one night stand.

And it is pathetic. And you are pathetic, and desperate, and alone, and God, is it even Jihoon, or is it the way it suddenly feels like no one wants you?

“Stop that,” Yeri says suddenly, lying on her bed on the opposite side of your room. You tilt your tired eyes towards her. “What?”

“I can hear you thinking. What’s up?” She said nonchalantly, dropping her phone, that she’d been mindlessly scrolling through. Cheeks bunched up on your pillow and mascara smudging under your eyes, you look at her and sigh.

“Just tired,” you hum. _____________________________

Jihoon has been adopted. For a whole week following that incident, suddenly, your friends are taking him with them everywhere, and your safe space is invaded by his hair, his laugh, and his subtle cologne. It’s him with you during movie nights, it’s him during girls’ nights, and it’s him while you’re getting ready for a bar-night, all sitting in Irene and Seulgi’s pink-tastic room, doing makeup on the floor and on the desks and on the bed.

“I love your eye makeup,” Seulgi says to Yeri (it’s a pink number with glittery inner corners), under eyes totally covered in white powder, as she’s baking her makeup. Jihoon is sitting on the floor, hair tied up in two pigtails that Irene had given him. “Thank you, Seul.”

You’re doing your own makeup, working blush into your cheeks and trying not to look at him, the way he’s half-lying on the carpeted floor, looking absentmindedly into his phone. His thighs are huge, and he’s wearing gray sweatpants, and you think you’re going insane.

Irene (who’s done with her makeup before anyone else, always) looks up from her own phone. She narrows her eyes deviously. “Jihoon, what do you think of Yeri’s makeup?”

Jihoon snaps his head up, pigtails bouncing. “Uh,” he looks a little lost, when he turns his head over to Yeri, who smiles sheepishly, not totally understanding what was happening. “It’s nice.”

“Just nice?” Irene smirks, and Jihoon finally seems to catch on to the fact that this is some sort of test. Indeed it was, and you knew it from the moment Irene began to talk. Your eyes flit between them, sitting behind you in the mirror. “Can you elaborate on that?” Irene smirks.

“It’s…” Jihoon considers what to respond, almost nervous. “She looks better without makeup.”

“Son, no!”

“Never!”

“Absolutely not!”

It’s a cacophony from the girls, even a pillow is thrown at his head, which he dodges in shock. “Never say that to a girl, Jihoon! It’s rude!” Irene lectures, a finger pointedly thrown in his direction. When he doesn’t seem to get it, Yeri explains: “Imagine spending time on something, only for someone to say they’d wish you hadn’t done it all.”

Jihoon, who’s been bristling like a disturbed cat up until now, softens in understanding. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, our child, you’re learning,” Irene says, face turning back to her phone, as she apparently has lost interest in the conversation.

You watch quietly with a bemused smile, having paused your ministrations on your face, brush held in the air before you. Jihoon’s eyes flicker over to you, an unreadable expression on his face. You meet his eyes in the mirror, pitch black and blank. You look away quickly.

You can feel him, still looking at you, and you feel self-conscious at the way you crooken your back to better focus on your face. What’s he thinking? That you look ugly? That your back is ugly? Your makeup?

“Are you okay, Y/n?”

You freeze. His voice is soft as ever, and you understand now, better than ever, why he’s a music major, because it’s so melodious and sweet in your ears. All eyes in the room snap to you and you eye them all in the mirror. “Yep.”

Yeri sighs, exasperated. “She’s been depresso for, like, a week.”

“I’ve been fine,” you correct, smudging out the pencil on your lid. “I’ve been fineeee,” Yeri mocks, making her voice nasally and high. You glare at her through the mirror, but all she does is stick her tongue out at you.

“I’m just stressed out, okay? I've got a lot on my plate,” you mumble bitterly, and it’s true, because every time you’re trying to do assignments, papers, write notes and focus in class, you think of him, and how he doesn’t want you. And one wrong thing leads to another, and then you’re thinking about how no one wants you, and you haven’t had a boyfriend since you entered college. And then it’s something about how you look, or it’s something about how you are, as a person, and you just sit at your desk with this terrible feeling in you gut, trying not to cry, or hoping that your sniffles don’t overpower Replay by Shinee blasting in Yeri’s headphones, as she’s eating crackers in bed, just a few feet away from you.

“Just talk to us if you need anything, okay?” Seulgi frowns and you smile at her, hoping it looks convincing. She nods at you, turning back to her handheld mirror. But alas one person stays staring at you. You avoid his eyes, trying not to look like you’re about to cry.

“I can arrange a spa day? We can get our toes done,” Irene asks, and she wiggles her toes in the air for emphasis. “Ooo, yes!” Yeri exclaims.

Finally, Jihoon’s attention is ripped from you, wincing at the thought of another person handling his feet. “Can I skip out on that, maybe?”

Irene scratches her chin, pretending to think about it. Then she says, bluntly and directly: “Nah.”

_____________________________

“Let me come with you to the spa!”

“No! Jihoon, walk faster,” like a mother, Seulgi is grabbing Jihoon’s wrist and dragging him further from the tall, huge man behind you. Mingyu is following you all like a dog, whining and crying, and pouting. “Please, guys! I don’t wanna go with Seungcheol and Jeonghan, they’re mean!”

“Spa day is for girls only!” Yeri yells over her shoulder, as the five of you stumble away from Mingyu, crying out to you. “What about him?” Mingyu yells and points.

“Don’t listen to him, sweetie,” Seulgi tells Jihoon and he nods very seriously. “He’s our adopted son! Now shoo!”

Finally Mingyu gives up the chase, and you disappear behind the outerwall, beginning down a busy street towards Irene’s favorite spa. “I don’t get how you’re friends with that guy,” Irene says, elbowing you, and you both snicker. “He’s a pup,” you shrug.

The streets are filled with people, the sun is shining, and it’s spring, and everything should be great, because you’re with your friends. But he’s here too. Swallowed up by his hoodie, pitch black in a sea of colors, he’s still here and his very presence has you tense, and yearning for the touch of a masseuse. The streets that had grown so familiar, that you thought you had learnt and mastered, had become so foreign, and you’re trying to escape into yourself, trying to find a backdoor out of the constant blabbering, teaching Jihoon the importance of gossip and female communication and companionship. These are your friends. The sadness eventually musters into frustration.

Soon enough, you’re sighing so hard you think your soul escapes with it through your mouth. A spa-worker begins massaging your feet, and working her thumbs into your sore soles. Irene laughs at your reaction, two seats over. “Told you all you needed was a spa day!” she beams. Yeah, a spa day and maybe a new friend group that wouldn’t adopt the guy who you should certainly not be around!

And speaking of him, he’s sitting in the chair right next to yours, grimacing and flinching back from the disdained worker.

“What are you gonna tell her?” Yeri quips, smiling at the end of the row. Jihoon takes a second to snap out of his constant flinching, looking over at her nervously. “Oh, uh…”

The girls are all looking at him expectantly, but you’re squeezing your eyes shut and wishing your ears could shut too.

“Probably, like.. ‘Hey, I like you, would you maybe wanna go out on a date sometime?”

“Pssh!”

“Absolutely not!”

“As if!”

Jihoon is a little flabbergasted.

“Here’s what you’re actually gonna say,” Seulgi leans over in her chair towards him, directing him with a finger in her armrest. You hear Jihoon scramble in his chair, and you know he’s taking out that stupid notebook again.

Seulgi lowers her voice to mimic his, when she talks again: “‘Hi, crush, how are you?’ Wait for her response… Then: ‘I’ve always thought you were very beautiful. Your very presence takes my breath away. I would like to take you on a date, would that be okay with you?’ And be suave about it.”

“HAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAH.”

Yeri and Irene burst into laughter, hitting the armrests of their chairs and covering their bright smiles with their hands. Even you snort in amusement. “What?!” Seulgi exclaims, outraged. “What’s so funny about that?”

“Nothing, I just-...” Irene wafts herself, trying to ease away that tears of glee that spring in her eyes. “I can’t imagine any man, let alone our son, saying that to a woman.. Wow.”

“It’s good! I would be flattered,” Seulgi defends herself viciously. Yeri snorts from her seat: “It’s not a drama, Seul!”

“Well!” Seulgi scoffs, twisting her upper body to face Yeri now. “Maybe I would like my life to be a drama, thank you very much!”

Their argument continues viciously, insults and laughter being thrown at each other left and right and you can almost begin to tune them own, letting the feeling of pads on your feet and a gentle, cool brush on the nail lure you to sleep.

Then there’s a hand on your forearm. You peek an eye open and see him - God, it just has to be him - leaning over his chair to gently grasp you. He looks at you through lashes, and he’s so sincere that it kills you when he says: “I can tell you’re not okay.”

You’re a little taken aback, one second prior you were being lulled to sleep and now he’s talking to you, so low, so seriously, while the girls try to attack each other behind him. You wish your heart isn’t suddenly galloping, and you wish his warmth on your arm and radiating onto you isn’t so nauseating. “I-”

“Don't say you are, when you're not. You’re very obvious, you know?” he hums, smiling softly when he sees you flush from his intense gaze. You avert your eyes nervously. “Uhm. I just.. I don’t really want to talk about it, Hoon.”

You flick your eyes back up to his to survey his reaction. His expression softens at the nickname, and he holds your gaze for a moment longer, before he nods in understanding, all the warmth of his closeness disappearing, when he sits back down in his seat.

“That’s okay,” he smiles at you in reassurance, and your heart leaps, and you can’t help but think that he doesn’t need anymore training to make his crush - whoever the lucky girl is - completely and totally happy for several lifetimes.

He’s a beautiful, sun-beamed flower, where he sits, light flitting through the store-front windows. You’d be happy for several lifetimes. If only he wanted you. _____________________________

“What is going on?!”

It’s Mingyu, and he’s somehow found you, as you’re trudging out of your latest class, suddenly hot on your trail and outraged about something or other. “What?” you mumble, heading to the cafe near the end of the hall.

“With Jihoon?! Why does he get to be your son when I don’t?!” Mingyu wafts his arms and pouts and you cringe, leaning away from his loud voice. “Ugh…”

“I need to know why he was writing that girl code stuff, Y/n. Why is he suddenly allowed at girls’ nights, when I’ve been trying to get in for months?!”

You take a turn into the cafe and sigh at how crowded it is, immediately placing yourself in line, Mingyu right behind you. “Calm down,” you say, just wanting a sandwich and maybe some peace and qui-

“I will not!” he snaps back, brows furrowed and a determined look on his face. You look up at him, pursing your lips in thought. Did Mingyu deserve to know? Maybe. He had been trying to get into girls’ nights forever, always going on about being ‘an honorary member’.

“I’m not sure I can tell you- Hey, can I get a tuna sandwich, please?” You say, quickly turned to the clerk behind the counter. “I won’t tell anyone, pleaseee- Can you get me one of those too? Thanks.”

You’re handed your sandwiches, and you hold both of them, drifting over to a table by the window, both of Mingyu’s hands on your shoulders and his voice in your ear: “Please, please, please, pretty please with the sugar on top?”

You plop down in your seat, simply exasperated, and hand him his sandwich. He’s settling himself down when you answer: “Okay.”

“Yes!” Mingyu fists the air in victory, mumbling self-assured under his breath: “Begging always works.” You snort and take a big bite of your sandwich.

“Stop eating and tell me!” he whines. “I’m hungry– Hey!”

Mingyu snatches the sandwich right out of your hands and grins at you deviously, dancing with it. You hate him. You hate him, but it is a little endearing.

“Jihoon has a crush on some girl and he’s been writing down the girl code in an attempt to understand women,” you deadpan, and when Mingyu’s mouth and guard drops, you snatch your sandwich back and begin gulping down hungrily.

“Are you shitting me?!” You shake your head.

“So, that's why he's allowed at girls’ night?” You nod your head.

“So, that’s why you’ve been so down?” You almost choke on your food.

“What?”

“Because you like him,” Mingyu says seriously and, with a totally stunned look on your face, you shark down the bits of sandwich in your mouth painfully. “How do you know that?!” you cry, head suddenly snapping in seventy different directions, relief washing over you, when none of your or Jihoon’s friends are around.

“Because you’ve been acting all weird around him since you fucked at Seungcheol’s Halloween party,” Mingyu shrugs. You wave your arms wildly.

“How do you know that?!” Whining, you throw yourself back in your seat, and bury your head in your hands. This couldn’t be happening. Your delicate secret, the one that could have - should have - simply faded away into summer, was now out and open, and you look out the window, and it’s spring.

“I know everything,” Mingu says ominously, giggling evilly.

“Mingyu, I will fucking kill you.”

“Fine! I needed to pee and you guys were super loud,” Mingyu pouts and takes a bite of his own sandwich. “No need to be so rude.”

“I can’t believe you know,” you groan, head collapsing on the table. Mingyu, forever and always silly, finally softens and frowns. You’re scattered.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No,” you say. Then, a moment later (in true Girl Code fashion) you’re lifting your head from the table and burying it in your hands: “I just. I don’t know, Mingyu. I feel so pathetic for liking him after a one night stand! And now he’s doing all this for another woman and he’s with us all the time…I haven’t had a boyfriend in college, Mingyu. I just feel so…” There’s a pause, when you’re trying to find the right word, and Mingyu stops breathing, looking at you and fearing the worst. Then comes the word, ripping itself from your lips:

“Unlovable.”

Mingyu’s frown deepens. Big, puppy Mingyu who’s always silly and happy, just slumps in on himself. “You’re not unlovable,” he mumbles, sounding genuinely disbelieving. You scoff.

“Thanks, Mingyu, it’s just.. That’s how it feels,” you admit, running a hand through your hair and looking at your half-eaten sandwich on the table. Mingyu’s quiet for a moment. When he speaks up again, he’s determined, and you can discern almost immediately that there’s no escaping this plan. Or he’ll for God’s sake start begging again.

“I’m going to wingman you,” he’s nodding to himself, and you can see the plan falling into place in his head, “I’m gonna wingman you and set you up with my friend at the party on Saturday!”

“Please, don’t,” you groan half-heartedly, but a piece of you brightens with hope, with summer, like maybe this was the thing you needed to get over your schoolgirl-crush on Jihoon.

“No,” Mingyu responds simply. “This is happening.” _____________________________

Indeed, it is happening.

The frat house is practically bumping with each beat of whatever pop song is playing over the speakers, and you lean into the rhythm that reverberates in the kitchen table beneath your fingers.

You somewhat wish that you hadn’t been as excited for this as you were, that you hadn’t spent hours picking out the perfect pink dress and doing your makeup, and that you aren’t hopelessly dependant on Mingyu (of all people) to find you a fuck. But you are. Putting on that dress and hoop earrings and doing your hair and declining Yeri’s invitation to the girls’ (and Jihoon’s) pre-party, you feel like you’re scrambling, like constantly falling through the air, flailing for something to ground yourself on.

Now, scanning over the tinted lights and the dancing people and feeling the slight, warm buzz of vodka in your blood, you know you need this. And still, you combat that slight anxiety, the insecurity that you hadn’t felt in years - what if Mingyu couldn’t find a single guy that wanted you?

Mingyu doesn’t seem worried though.

“Okay! We just gotta figure out who to set you up with. Take your pick,” he places a hand on your shoulder, squeezing and gauging your reaction. Your brows furrow as you shrug. Somehow, even when half the guys are objectively hot, you can’t say you find yourself drawn to any of them. You don’t linger on the feeling, fearful that maybe you’ll realize all the things they’re missing, the things they’re falling short of, are just Jihoon’s traits. “I don’t know, man. I just-..”

Mingyu senses your struggle and elects to give you his excellent guidance. “Alright, well you could do Joshua?” He’s pointing somewhere in the crowd, and sure enough, you notice Joshua, majoring in communications or something like that. “He’s a star: total hottie, super smart, sweet and considerate, and-”

“And he fucked Yeri,” you deadpan, head lolling over to look at Mingyu disapprovingly. Mingyu’s mouth falls open: “What?!”

“Yeah, like, two months ago!” you argue, wafting your hands. Mingyu’s mouth stays open, and he’s seemingly totally appalled by this.

“What?! Okay- nevermind. How about him?” He points his long limbs again, and this time you notice-

You narrow your eyes confusedly. Hopefully Mingyu was not trying to set you up with the biggest player in your year? “Jeonghan?!”

“What? No, the guy beside him, dickwad,” he playfully smacks the side of your head as you refocus your eyes. Indeed, a blonde guy is standing next to Jeonghan, seemingly whining at him. “Who’s he?”

“Lee Chan. Super sweet, great bod, a little dumb, but very doting-”

“Is he a freshman?!” you cry, almost as if it were a crime. Mingyu huffs. “You’re not making this easy, you know?!”

“I’m not dating or fucking a freshman,” you cross your arms and Mingyu senses the air of finality in your words. He sighs, slumping behind you for a moment, before he spots something across the room.

“Wonwoo! What about him?” he doesn’t even bother pointing at this point, simply tilts your head towards the man, who was currently talking to Seungcheol a little ways from the kitchen. You spot him. You suppose you’d always been a little curious about Wonwoo. From what you’d seen of him in passing, he was sweet and polite, absolutely gorgeous and extremely smart. You nod solemnly.

“I could- I could see that,” you say and Mingyu’s eyes light up. He bounces victoriously, punching the air. “He’s great, you’re- you’re gonna love him,” Mingyu delights and before you can even get another word in, Mingyu’s yelling across the room: “Hey, Wonwoo! Wonwoo, scootch over here!”

Your eyes widen in shock. “Wha- we’re doing this now? Just, on the fly? No warning?”

“It’s fine,” Mingyu waves you off, eyes trained on where Wonwoo is now walking towards you.

“Do I look okay?” your voice is wavering nervously. You still can’t help how you feel, even in your dress and your makeup. Where had all your confidence gone? The confidence with which you’d literally fucked Jihoon in a lobster-costume? Even the thought of him stings. Mingyu’s confident facade falters for only a split second at the vulnerability in your tone. His gaze softens and he looks at you: “You look great, N/n. Calm down, Wonwoo’s super nice.”

“Hey, Gyu,” Wonwoo’s voice is cool, as he approaches Mingyu. Standing in front of you and Mingyu, he briefly scans you, then acknowledges you with a nod and a sweet smile. “Wonwoo, hey, you know, I was just wondering if you’ve already done the history paper?”

Wonwoo is unamused. “I’m not doing your paper again, Mingyu.”

“Oh well, shucks, that’s simply too bad,” Mingyu (poorly) feigns annoyance and defeat, before he’s grabbing your shoulder. “Anyway, Wonwoo, have you met my very good friend, Y/n?”

You fake a smile, hoping the absolute pain of the current interaction was not showing on your face. If you’d known Mingyu was this bad at wing-manning, you would’ve gladly put up with his begging instead. You want to crawl into a hole and die, because based on Wonwoo’s smug smile, he has a pretty good understanding of what’s happening.

“Whoops, look at the time!” Mingyu looks at his wrist. He is not wearing a watch. “Damn, I guess I gotta go and- and leave my two good friends alone with each other, such a shame, uh, anyway!” As he speaks he backs further and further from you, trying to ignore the glare in your eyes, before he’s bolting at his last word.

There’s an awkward silence as soon as Mingyu’s gone. You feel like an unshelled turtle. You purse your lips and stare at your heel-clad feet.

“So, Mingyu was trying to wingman you?” Wonwoo’s voice is deep and bemused. You look at him in horror, trying to think of a way to salvage the situation.

“Yeah,” your breathe, and he immediately begins laughing. “Sorry about that, he was- he was just trying to be helpful, although it’s hard to defend him right now.”

“He’s wingmanned me before, too,” Wonwoo muses and, thank God, this was actually a good thing. You find a balance on the common ground. “Really?” you grin, looking up at him.

“Yep,” Wonwoo admits, “safe to say I did not get my dick wet.”

You laugh hard, and it feels like a switch has flipped inside you, restarting your joy-generator, because you’re laughing and hitting Wonwoo’s arm, and he’s smiling because he’s just made a pretty girl laugh.

“He’s so bad!” you say when you’re done laughing. “Everytime!” Wonwoo drawls, “Everytime he pulls that shit and he’s never wearing a watch!”

You and Wonwoo laugh together, throwing (good-hearted) snarky comments about Mingyu around, and your cheeks are rosy and shining in the kitchen-light. Finally, party still bumpin’ and pumpin’ in the near distance, your laughter dies down and you’re both half-leaning against the counter. Wonwoo looks down at you with a smug smile.

“What?” you ask, growing insecure again under his gaze. He hums.

“So you asked for me?”

“Hm?”

“When Mingyu was wingmanning you,” Wonwoo reminded you, tilting his head. “You asked for me?”

“I-” you stutter, and your heart clenches nervously, because if things had been right, if things were different at least, you would have asked for Jihoon. It’s this gut-punching guilt. It feels wrong to use him, Wonwoo, to overcome Jihoon. “He was laying down my options.”

“Options?” Wonwoo quips, brow raised questioningly, but he doesn’t interrogate further. Instead, he leans his head down, so he’s much, much closer to you, breathing hitting your face when he whispers: “But you wanted to fuck me. Isn’t that right?”

You gulp. His presence is almost suffocating. Avoiding his eyes, you flicker them onto the dancefloor, where-

Where Jihoon is storming out of the house.

You squeeze your eyes shut - something Wonwoo thinks is out of embarrassment, from the question he’s just asked you - and try to refocus on Wonwoo. Try to ignore how the thoughts about Jihoon come bubbling in your head. It was probably something with his crush. You want to do nothing more than comfort him, hold him, steal away every bad thought he may ever have.

You open your eyes, hoping that somehow seeing Wonwoo’s face would fill you with a need for him - him, and not Jihoon - but seeing him in the low lighting only serves as a reminder that Wonwoo is not him.

“I’m- I’m so sorry, Wonwoo. I gotta go. I’m really, really sorry-” you say suddenly, and immediately you’re scurrying towards the door. Wonwoo frowns, eyes following you in your path. “Did I- Did I make you uncomfortable?”

“No, you were hot!” you say absent-mindedly, before you’re disappearing into the entrance, and then further along, out the door.

Wonwoo stands alone at the counter, still somewhat leaned towards your ghost in front of him, and shakes his head in confusion. “What the fuck?” _____________________________

“Jihoon?”

You exit just in time to see him, stomping on the other side of the road, armless denim jacket wafting in the wind. It’s spring, just warm enough that you’re not freezing, but still cold enough that you curl your arms around yourself. Your hair blows gently. It smells distantly like flowers.

He turns around at your voice. When he does, you know your suspicions were right. He looks so defeated. His gorgeous long hair, that usually only makes you clench your thighs together, is limp and drags him downwards. His arms hang similarly at his sides, fists clenched at the bottom, causing veins to ripple along the forearms. He stands just below a street light, spot-lighted, as if on a stage.

“Leave me alone!” he yells out to you across the road, voice breaking halfway. This does nothing to dampen his demeanor - this tough front, this anger he suddenly carries. You still in the grass beside the road, looking at him pleadingly. He can’t hold your gaze.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it, Jihoon,” you begin, choosing your words carefully. “But I can just.. Support you. You don’t have to be alone right now.”

This almost seems to piss him off more, clenching his jaw, sharply defined by the harsh shadows, and steering his head away from you, like a sunflower following the sun in the sky. It hurts your heart. The way he almost seems angry with you. And yet again you’re made to feel pathetic for following him out here. Like you’re on your knees and he’s standing there in front of you, spitting on you. Why does it hurt so much? You almost wish you’d stayed with Wonwoo - that you’d followed him to his room and let him fuck you and pretended you weren’t thinking about him the entire time.

“Shouldn’t you go back inside?” he’s prickling with hostility. “You seemed like you were having a good time.”

“Jihoon,” you say breathlessly. “None of us is having a good time if you’re not.”

Whatever cog you unturned, whatever screw you unscrewed, Jihoon’s tightly wound posture unwinds, and he softens and withers before you, one hand clamping over his eyes. You take this as a sign to move towards him, heels clicking on the asphalt warning him of your advance. It’s deadly quiet, save for the heartbeat of the frat house behind you.

“I’m sorry,” he says, finally lowering his hand and looking at you. You smile sympathetically, relief flooding you, when he lets you gently place a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay.”

The two of you begin to walk in silence, and you recognize it as the path that leads back to the dormitory. It’s calm, steps becoming rhythmic and breeze easing your muscles with its cool touch. You study his face as it’s lit and unlit by the systemic presence of street lights. You’re able to put your own feelings aside for him, to be a martyr, and to sacrifice yourself to comfort him. It feels like cutting your own throat to talk to him about another woman, a woman he loves, truly, but you know it must be done.

“So,” you muster finally. “What happened in there?”

He scoffs bitterly, looking at the pavement underneath his shoes. You frown. “Nothing happened.”

“Nothing?” you repeat, a little confused.

“I didn’t tell her.”

“Oh.”

You’re honestly not the best comforter, you realize, cringing and hoping you’re not making it worse by talking to him about it. You see the faint outline of the dormitory at the end of the street.

“Why not?” you quip quietly. His mouth makes a tight line. He breathes out shakily, and you fear you’re riling him up again by asking further.

“She was talking to some other guy,” Jihoon says, eyes flitting to yours before immediately ducking back to the pavement. You furrow your brows. Could it be you? That thought nurtures the spring garden in your stomach, the one you’d been trying to kill. But the insecurity that had come with it, and with him, only manages to squander that light.

“I’m sorry that happened,” you say softly, hand finding his arm, but he pulls it away from you immediately. Ouch.

“Yeah,” he chuckles without humor.

Finally, you decide to just shut up, to stop pushing him when he’s so vulnerable, but this time it’s Jihoon who doesn’t stop speaking. “You know,” he begins and again he’s laughing, but you can tell it’s only a cheap plaster for the pain in his voice, “I’d memorized that- that confession thing Seulgi made. And I followed all the- the style advice and the-” his voice breaks and he hisses at how pathetic it sounds. “Everything. I did everything,” he summarizes finally and when you look you see orbs of tears forming at his waterline, like the dew drops that sparkle on leaves in spring.

You don’t know what to say. It’s almost too hard to see him like this. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, but Jihoon shakes his head.

“Stop saying that,” his voice is harsher, groggier, thick and stained by the sobs in his throat. You pause your steps. You’re standing in the yard outside the dormitory now. Hundreds of windows become an audience to where you now stand before each other.

“Why?” you ask.

“Because-” he wipes the tears away aggressively, composing himself before he finally, finally looks at you. “Because you’re gonna make me think that you actually care.” His voice is suddenly laced with venom again. The hostility that you’d tamed returns and it’s so much stronger, more bitter. You’re taken aback.

“I-I do care? Why do you think I don’t care-”

“Oh, please, Y/n. You didn’t want me at your girls’ nights or at spa day or fucking whatever. You didn’t- You don’t care about my book or my crush or my-”

“I do care!” you interrupt, voice stern and much louder. “What, you think I follow you out of parties for fun? Because I don’t care about you? And yeah, maybe I didn’t want you at the girls’ nights, but what does that matter-”

“It matters because!–” he stops himself in his tracks, hand coming out to halt you. “Fuck it, wait here,” he orders, and suddenly he is trudging into the darkness of the courtyard. You stand still, flabbergasted, and thoroughly confused. It’s so dark you can’t even see what he’s doing, only hear him in the dirt, silhouette blending into the shadows. Then, he’s walking back to you and you finally see him.

There are flowers in his hands.

It’s a makeshift bouquet, held tightly in between his veiny, pale hands, consisting of flowers that grow in the courtyard, red, yellow and lilac. It’s a slow-burning realization as he stands himself before you, looking into your eyes with a sincerity that is laced with pain. You know this part of the girl code.

“Hi, Y/n, how are you?” he breathes, and his voice is shaking and he’s looking at you and practically begging you to play along - to indulge him, even if you would turn your back on him. You can hardly register anything but him and those flowers, because your surroundings, the moon, the stars, the shadows and the streets are overpowered by the blooming in your chest. A single flower unfurls the pedals of your heart until you are open before him. You meet his eyes.

“I’m good.”

He nods.

“I’ve always thought you were very beautiful,” it almost seems like it physically pains him to admit these breathless feelings. “Your very presence takes my breath away. I would like to take you on a date,” another pained, gulping pause. “Would that be okay with you?”

It’s as if time has stopped in this moment; how his chest rises and falls under his shirt, how his hair gently nuzzles his face, how his eyes blear out at you from underneath his bangs, how he glows in the moonlight, and how his hands shake around the stems of the flowers.

“Was I..” his voice is hoarse, “Was I suave about it?”

“Yes,” is all you can manage, because all those flowers that you had stomped into a half-death were coming alive again and this time it was more than welcome.

“Yes?”

“Yes, you can take me on a date,” you break into a wide smile and, upon realizing you probably look like an idiot, you lower your gaze and your warm, shining cheeks to the pavement. He gasps, and it’s probably the cutest thing you’ve ever heard.

“But- you and Wonwoo-?”

“Do you wanna know why I was even talking to Wonwoo?” you ask, and when you meet his eyes again, he’s also smiling. You can’t help but reach out a hand to wrap around one of his, still frozen in holding the flowers. He quickly maneuvers the bouquet to the other hand and intertwines your fingers. Your heart soars. “Mingyu found out that I was sad because you had a crush on someone - I didn’t think it was me, you know? So he promised to wingman me at this party.”

“Son of a bitch,” Jihoon whispers, and you laugh, feeling so floaty and lovely. “Don’t call him that,” you say, but Jihoon only smiles cheekily, eyes matching the crescent moon in the sky above you.

“No, I meant me,” he says. He looks down at the flowers and frowns. “Is that why you were so quiet? On girls night?”

You nod and he sighs. “I’m such an idiot.”

“No, you’re not. You’re so sweet,” you say genuinely, and Jihoon nearly melts at how much you mean it. There’s something so wonderful about the way all the words, that he would never use to describe himself, float around your head and sparkle in your eyes in this moment, looking up at him.

Jihoon needs to kiss you. He’s not sure he’s ever needed anything as badly. He rips his free hand from yours only to place it tenderly against your cheek, pulling your face and your warmth into him, bouquet held out at his side to allow you snugly in his chest.

His lips are so soft and his nose nuzzles your own, plush hair tickling your forehead, and his huffed out breaths dance along your cheeks. Your lips mod perfectly, unlocking the shackles with which that earth-shattering yearning had held onto you. The world is anguish but will momentarily and suddenly be interrupted, cleaved apart with a sudden gash, by a planet-killer: love.

You truly don’t mean to make it heated, hell, you’d be content just kissing him forever, feeling how his tongue prods at your lips and meets your own, but his sculpted chest under your fingers draws out a pathetic moan. His eyebrows spring up and he pulls back to look at you. You blush under his gaze, fiddling with your dress.

“Holy fuck, that was so fucking hot,” he gasps, lips swollen from your insistent sucking on them, panting into the night air. You brighten at his compliment. “Inside. Now. To my room.”

“You know, girl code says to not have sex before on the third date,” you say smugly, unprepared when his free hand pushes you back into his chest, and his lips drag over half of your face, finding home at your ear. His voice is a growl: “Fuck. Girl code.”

He begins a somewhat dramatic march to the front door and you can’t help but run after him, taking his hand, and seeing how he smiles at that feeling. He looks so happy. Your heart skips a beat, because it’s you - you’re the one making him so happy.

And he’s so hot, it’s all you can think about as he drags you along the corridors, how nice his arms look in the sleeves denim, how pretty his hair is, his fucking face, and the chest you just barely felt under your fingertips. You’re watching doors pass in a monotonous routine, jittery and unable to wait for the one that might be his, for him to take you through it, and for you to bloom, totally and perfectly under him.

“Fucking finally,” he breathes, voice gruff and much lower than you’re used to when he stops at his door, fishing for his keys in his pocket. It enters the lock and with a click, everything you fantasized about is opening to you.

As soon as you’re inside, he’s kicking the door shut and pushing you against the wall, nails gripping into your dress, when he finally drops the makeshift bouquet on his nightstand. He cries out into your mouth at the way your chest bounces from the impact, immediately capturing your lips in his again.

You can’t help the way you’re tugging at his hair, trying to ground yourself in the feeling of him, when he shoves a thigh between your legs. You moan into his mouth, rutting into him, while his wandering hands pull your skirt up you to pool around your waist. He pulls back to look at you, how your hips cant into his strong, big thigh, and how your pink, lacey panties cling to your wet pussy.

“Off,” he mumbles, apparently having decided that the simple tugging of the fabric of your dress won’t be enough. You turn around in a daze, not even uttering a word, simply shoving the zipper at the back of it.

Jihoon groans, he has to, seeing the way you stick out your ass to him, while your hand lay flat on the wall. You shake your hips teasingly at him, and his hands float to your ass, petting it and squeezing it in his fingers, and biting his lips because it looks so fucking good and plump, and there’s a wet spot in your panties. He grabs your hips and rubs his dick into you. You gasp at the feeling, nails scratching against the wall.

“You make me so hard, baby,” he says breathlessly, unable to help himself humping against you, pre-cum spilling from his tip. “Shit,” he grunts, and you’re squeezing your eyes closed at the outline of his dick pressing into your pussy.

Finally Jihoon collects himself and his cold hands drag the zipper down. The top of your dress loosens and slides down your shoulders, where Jihoon aids you in slipping it off. His hands spin you around, finally taking a breath to marvel your bare chest in front of him.

You blush, suddenly so bashful, when just before you were wiggling your ass at him. You curl your arms over your chest, but Jihoon’s own come to stop them. “No, no, no, no,” he tuts, almost sad, “why are you doing that?”

You don’t answer immediately, but apparently it’s not a rhetorical question. His hands intertwine with yours to prevent you from covering yourself up. “Uh, I don’t know,” you stammer sheepishly, “I don’t wanna, like, kill the mood or any-”

“You’re not killing the mood, pretty,” Jihoon whispers so, so achingly sincere and your heart hurts.

“Sorry, it was just-”

“Don’t say sorry,” he lectures, interrupting again. He tilts his head and he looks at you with a flaming intensity. “Try again.”

You pause, flustered out of your mind.

“I-I’ve just been feeling a little insecure lately, I guess,” you say and you’re positive your face is beet-red, but if it is Jihoon says nothing, only pouts and releases one hand only to direct your eyes back to his with a hand on your chin.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/n,” he says and even when you seek it out, you can’t find even the slightest hint of lying in his voice. “I want to show you, but I can’t do that if you cover up. Understand?”

You nod, lips breaking into a little smile, that his heart becomes hot like the spring-sunshine. “Okay,” you say and he smiles brightly, releasing your chin from between his fingers.

He guides you onto the bed, but it’s no longer heated and rushed, it’s so soft and gentle, and he pulls off your underwear only after you whisper in agreement, and then he lowers himself into it, again, only allowing himself the pleasure when you whisper a strained yes and nod vigorously.

He fully makes out with your pussy - his lips are wrapped around your clit, licking and sucking it, and fucking moaning into it, sending vibration straight to the coil in your stomach. You’re moaning so loud, broken cries bouncing off the walls, while your finger wrap into his hair and your legs thrash. His tongue flattens against your folds, then dips down to trail around your slit.

“Jihoon!” you cry, hips bucking into his mouth. He groans again, releasing your pussy with a soft pop. “Fuck, baby, keep saying my name like that.” And then his face disappears in your pussy again.

And you do, everytime his nips and gums on your sensitive folds, tongue trailing back up to your nub to fully envelop it. He sucks, hard. And you think you might cum the second you look at him, because the image of his full head of hair buried in between your legs and lapping like a starved man is so pornographic, your head spins.

He might go insane from just the taste of you, he realizes, because even when you cry that you’re cumming, and your legs shake around his head and your pussy is soaked with your cum, he can’t bring himself to pull away, strong arms wrapping around stomach to still you as you begin to wiggle from the feeling of his tongue just continuing to lap at you.

“Jihoon! Fuck, t-too much,” you whimper and the sound shoots straight to his cock. He finally pulls away, eyes still trained on your pretty cunt, and the way it clenches around nothing. “Clenching so hard, sweetheart, only for there to be nothing, shouldn’t we fix that?” he hums, leaning down to trail his finger through your folds, gathering your wetness on its tip.

You whimper uncertainly, when he crawls back over your body, hair tickling your face when hovers just above you and he shushes your pathetic squeaks. He pushes the wet finger into your mouth and you suck obediently. “Shh, baby, just taste yourself on my finger, how can you be insecure with a pussy like that, hm?”

You cry around his single digit, tongue sliding over it eagerly. He wants to fuck your face, the way your pretty, plump lips wrap around his finger, but he’ll save that for another time. “Shh, baby, I know. You’ll be stuffed full of cock soon, don’t worry,” he rasps soothingly, and slips his drenched finger from your mouth.

Finally, he rips the denim jacket off, white tee following soon after, and you’re left, mouth gaping, at the how toned his stomach is, how big his pecs are and how fucking thick his arms are at his side.

“You’re so fucking hoot, Hoonie,” you drawl, making grabby hands to urge him back to you. He smiles at those words, even gains a small dusting of pink on his cheeks, but he shakes his head. “Gotta get my pants off, baby.”

“Hurry up,” you grin playfully, and he scoffs at you from where he stands, pants and boxers coming off in one fell swoop. “So needy,” he mumbles to himself, but you can tell by the overjoyed expression on his face, that he’s enjoying this just as much as you are.

His cock is finally freed, and your eyes float to it, drinking in the sight of him. He’s so pretty and so red, and a single vein creeps up its curved surface towards the oozing head. You gulp, eyes sparkling.

“Wan’ it in my mouth,” you mumble, where you’re now half sitting up and glowing from your first orgasm. Jihoon looks at you and laughs, as he climbs on top of you again.

His face hovers over yours, finger carding through your hair tenderly. He looks in your eyes. “Yeah?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

He coos at you, eyes flickering to your lips for a moment, and you feel his cock twitch where it rests heavily on your stomach. “Not right now, pretty, I wanna fuck you.”

“You don’t have to cum-” you reason, mouth practically watering at the thought of having him in your mouth. He stops you though, hand still brushing through your hair, so delicately, as if you were a lily, or a rose, or a tulip.

“I’m not gonna be able to hold back if you look at me like that with my fucking cock in your mouth,” he whispers, and it’s so intimate, despite being so vulgar. How warm you both are, naked and holding onto each other and his dick is oozing onto your stomach and your pussy is leaking onto his sheets. “Like that,” Jihoon emphasizes, when you look up at him adoringly. You smile.

“Okay,” you say, a determined look on your face, “later then.”

He laughs. “Eager baby. Relax, you’re gonna get a pussy full of cock now, your mouth can wait.”

You wanna retort, say something snarky, anything, but you’re abruptly interrupted by the feeling of his cock pushing into you. You moan and your nails claw at his back, because it’s so big and so raw in your pussy, you feel that fucking vein dragging against your walls. “Shit, Hoonie. Fuck, fuck.”

He’s groaning too, hands on your waist and face in your neck. “So fucking tight, so pretty.”

You’re both panting when his cock is fully nestled inside you, sitting snug against your walls. You look up at him and he’s pretty, all flushed and lips swollen, and the sight makes you clench. He hisses, jerking abruptly, making the both of you moan.

“Fuck, baby, can’t just clench on me like tha-”

“Please, please, just fuck me now, can’t wait anymore!” you cry, clawing at him, nails raking over his flexed biceps, where he holds onto you. And he can’t help but fulfill your wish.

You honestly don’t know where he gets his stamina, because the second you’re done asking, he’s ramming into you so hard and so fast, your eyes roll back and your mouth falls open in a long whine. The whole bed is shaking from the impact, as his hips sheath and unsheath from your warm, welcoming pussy.

“God, you’re so fucking perfect,” he drawls, hands trailing up from your waist to your bouncing chest, thumbing over your nipples. “Bet Wonwoo wishes he got to see you like this, hm?”

The way your pussy has his cock in a chokehold, the way you’re lying beneath, it has him fully dazed, and now he babbles all that comes to mind. “Yeah, but you’re mine, princess. No one else gets to see you like this, no one else can have you crying like this for their cock, right?”

“N-No one else,” you whimper, sopping cunt clenching and unclenching around his dick. “That’s right,” he pants, humid breath on your cheek, “Say you’re mine, pretty girl, say you’re fucking mine.”

“A-ah, ‘m yours, Hoonie,” you cry and he thinks he might cum just like that, at your blissed face, glowing beneath him, and your pussy sucking him in, and you obeying him thoughtlessly.

“Good girl, good fucking girl,” he rewards you by dragging his hand down your stomach to rub your clit. Your whole body convulses into his, hands dragging over his big arms for support. “Come on, sweetheart, cum on my cock now.”

And you do, the tension in your stomach tightening beyond what you can take, before it finally unfurls, and it blooms, and it’s spring, and your squirting all over Jihoon’s abs, because God, he’s so fucking hot and he fucks you silly with his dumb, big muscles and his dumb, cute face.

The sight of your squirting, thrashing and shaking underneath him is all he needs. Jihoon shoots you full of his cum, making you feel so full and wet, before he finally halts his rutting hips, stilling on top of you.

You’re both panting. You’re sweating so much, your hair sticks to your forehead, and you’re gasping for air. Jihoon is still on top of you, holding himself up somehow, and licking at your neck appreciatively.

There’s a pause, where you’re basking in each other's warmth, and there’s so much love between you it’s almost suffocating. Then you're narrowing your eyes at the head of hair in your neck, growing suspicious.

“... Are you still hard?”

He laughs into your neck, peering up at you with a sheepish smile.

“Are you still open to that dick-sucking thing?” _____________________________

“So,” Yeri trails off.

You’re sitting in front of her, Seulgi and Irene at the campus cafe after a thorough round of congratulating you and Jihoon’s new relationship. They’d been both surprised and somehow not-at-all-surprised.

“He can’t come to girls night anymore,” Irene states the obvious, and immediately you, Seulgi and Yeri are nodding along.

“Thank God, I wasn’t the only one thinking that.”

“It just wouldn’t work,” you supply, agreeing.

There’s a pause. Seulgi pouts. “I can’t believe we don’t have a son anymore. They grow up so fast,” she says and she sounds genuinely sad about it.

You sigh a little, debating whether or not to play this card. Then you say: “I know someone who would like to be our son.”

“Oh, no..”

“Don’t say..”

“Yep,” you shrug, and then you hear him. Lumbering clumsily down the hall, like a galloping horse.

“I HEAR THERE’S A NEW POSITION OPEN DURING GIRLS NIGHTS!!!!! I MADE MUFFINS!!”

Mingu is running through the cafe, dodging stools and chairs like he’s on Ninja Warrior.

Irene frowns. “I guess he’ll do as our new son.”

“We can always kick him out if he gets too annoying,” Yeri shrugs, just in time for Mingyu to stand before your table with a fresh tray of muffins.

“Yes!” he cries with glee, voice incredibly high because he just can’t believe it.

“Begging always works!”

#svt smut #svt x reader #woozi smut #woozi angst #woozi fluff #woozi x reader #svt woozi x reader #lee jihoon x reader #jihoon x reader #jihoon smut #svt angst

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