#and today I finally was able to figure out what song it is

[haechaninmyheart]

feel it

the image does not belong to me. credits to the original owner.

summary - during an afternoon spent in a practice room, you learn more than just the dance routine from jeno.

pairing - idol!jeno x afab!reader.

genre - smut, idol!au.

word count - 1.7k.

warnings - accidentally feeling jeno’s boner?, blowjob, a lil bit of facefucking, kinda pinning reader against wall, nipple play, creampie. 

author’s note - bonjours! have some jeno smut hehe >:) also i do apologise for any errors but I don’t have the brain cells to proof read :< hope u enjoy this shawties luv camisole. 

18+ content ahead, minors don’t interact!!!

. . .

Jeno’s body is moving sharply as music blasts from the speakers within the practice room. He’s learning the choreography to the latest song you two have been working on. It's not due to be released until next Saturday, but both of you have been perfecting the choreography for it. The teaser had already received a lot of love and support from fans so you don’t want to fall below their high expectations. 

He continues to carry on as you stroll into the room, the squeaking of his trainers against the floor sounding unpleasant to your ears and making you grimace for a moment but you know you’ll soon be able to ignore the awful noise. 

Setting your bag down in one corner of the room and leaning against the wall with a water bottle in your hand, you watch Jeno complete the last steps of the choreography. The steps he was planning on teaching you today. 

As the room falls quiet, Jeno saunters over to where you’re standing, mirroring your body against the wall as he soon slides down to the floor. The sweat beads on his forehead glisten under the lighting of the practice room, suggesting that he’s been here for a while. 

“You’re better than me.” You chuckle, leaning down to pass him the bottle of water. You’re referring to the earlier parts of the dance routine you’d already learned. 

Jeno chugs it down in one go before responding with a thank you and bounces back on his feet soon after. Squishing the plastic bottle in his hands with ease, before dropping it on the floor. His strength always amazed you and made you wonder what he would be like in bed?

“Right!” You chirp and pace to the middle of the practice room, feeling ashamed as if Jeno could hear your thoughts from how close he was squatting next to you. “Teach me the choreography.”

. . .

It’s 2:35pm when you finally master the whole choreography from start to finish. Your legs are beginning to feel a little weak and you nearly want to fall to the floor when Jeno says- 

“Now, from the beginning.”

You face scrunches into a frown and you want to complain about how you are tired but you understand that your performance was quite soon. Any time spent practising for it was going to help you give a better show to your fans. 

The song starts and before you know it, your body starts moving to the music blaring from the speakers. You even catch yourself mouthing the lyrics as you study your moves in the mirror, your eyes occasionally wandering to Jeno’s figure when he got close. 

You’re more than halfway through the song when you feel a slight pain in your calf and mess up your step. 

Jeno’s awfully fast to notice.

“We were so close!” He cries out, raising both his arms, dramatically flailing them as he falls to his knees. 

You blurt out a long string of apologies but before you can explain that the discomfort in your leg is what led you to mess up, Jeno’s behind you. He begins to guide you through that specific step, his body dangerously close to yours. 

You feel as if you even moved back an inch, you’d be pressed right against him and that’s the only thing that occupies your mind as he directs you with his hands. It’s not until they move to your hips to instruct you that you nearly throw yourself away from him. 

“Jeno!” Your tone sounds panicked when you blurt out his name but you try to hide it with a light laugh. “Not, not too close… ” Your face feels hot.

“Why?” Jeno questions you, innocence and sweat painting his face. 

“Because, uh, because,” You pretend to fan your face, “it’s too hot in here, wow.”

“You can take off your sweatshirt, you know.” 

You pause. 

If there was another level of embarrassment that one could feel, you were surely feeling it at this moment. 

“Uh, I, I can’t...” Nervousness laced in between your words, “I’m not wearing anything underneath.” 

“Huh?”

The song stops, for a moment but it feels too long with how Jeno is staring at you, your confession repeating in his hand. He watches you roll up your sleeves and then the music begins again, automatically. 

You go straight performing the dance routine as if this interaction never took place but underneath your terrible poker face, you want the ground to open up and swallow you whole.  

Jeno doesn’t join you in the choreography this time, instead his eyes remain focused on your figure in the mirror. He’s giving you the same look you were giving him as he crushed the bottle.  

Soon the song reaches the part where you messed up a couple minutes ago and with his full attention on you, he can see your body tense up. He guides you once again but this time there’s a few more inches of space between the two of you. 

However, it doesn’t stay this way for long. With an unfocused mind, you find yourself tripping over your own feet and falling backwards- How unprofessional- but the cherry on top? You bring Jeno down with you and in doing so, his boner presses against you and you feel it right against your ass. 

Jeno tries to hide it, adjusting his t-shirt and moving onto his feet before asking if you were alright. 

“Oh my god, you’re hard.” 

Jeno’s cheeks begin to go pink. 

“Are you?” 

He can’t believe you’re actually asking him that after nearly taking a seat on his lap as if it were free real estate but gives the slightest nod down. 

“Is this… just from watching me dance?” You harshly whisper, covering your mouth. Unsure if to apologise to him or thank yourself for being clumsy. 

Another subtle nod. 

“I’ll be right back.” You watch Jeno stand up, the shape of his cock visible from underneath his top and he begins to pace towards the door. 

“Wait!” Your voice causes him to stop mid step and he turns around. “I can help.” 

Jeno turns around and your eyes go straight down to the bulge in his joggers. 

“If you plan on jerking off in the toilets… I can give you something better.” 

Jeno doesn’t even think twice when you offer, not even questioning what you may have on your mind. Right now, anything you could give would be better than his own hands. 

Soon you have the man against the wall with you kneeling by his feet and his cock in your mouth. He’s packing more than you had thought but you weren’t an amaetur to blowjobs. Deep throating his length as you looked up at him. 

Jeno could just cum from the way you were looking up at him, your glistening pretty eyes and his cock stuffed into your mouth. Your pretty lips wrapped around his dick made Jeno want to facefuck you until his climax. 

Whilst one hand holds up his t-shirt, the other plants itself in the roots of your hair. Jeno’s tugging at the strands gently but when he feels his orgasm creeping up on him, his grip tightens and you move back. 

“Take your sweatshirt off.”

You pull it over your head with caution, trying to avoid getting the mixture of precum and saliva on your lips and chin, on your clothes. You’re down to your bra and leggings. 

Jeno gives you a hand, pulling you up before pushing you against the wall. It feels cold against your back as Jeno tugs down the straps of your bra before he begins to kiss and suck your boobs. Whilst his lips were on one, he massages the other, a few times tugging at the nipple but not too harshly. He didn’t know what your pain tolerance was but still he enjoyed being mean in the sheets. 

One of his hands trails down to your core and his palm massages you over your leggings, leaving a wet spot from your arousal. Jeno hears you let out a moan, the sound like a melody to his ears and his dick twitches against your thigh. With one swift movement he flips you around, your face against the cold surface and your ass against his cock. 

Something in you makes you want to push your ass back against his length, so you do and earn a warning from his. 

“Don’t.” For the first time in a while you’re intimidated by Jeno. 

He yanks down your leggings with such force, it’s got you wondering if he’s mad at you and more importantly, if he plans on showing you an mercy as he fucks you. 

The answer was no to both.

The mix of precum and saliva of his cock acted like lube, but it’s not like you needed any with how damp that one spot on your leggings was. 

When Jeno pushes himself inside of you, you let out an even louder moan and he urges you to keep it down. You two were still in the practice room and the song wasn’t repeating to drown out your lewd noises. Your moaning, his grunting and groaning, you two hoped that these noises went unnoticed by anyone walking in the hallway. 

Since you wanted to push your ass back, Jeno would gladly have you doing that with his hand on your hip yet again and the other on your wrist. Your left arm lays flat against the wall and your other hand is down, massaging your own clit. 

“Oh god, this feels so, so fucking good.” Jeno groans as you pant, you pussy squeezing his cock so nicely. 

“Yeah, yeah, so good…” You gasp, “Jeno, Jeno, I’ll cum… soon, Jeno please.”

“Cum, cum, wherever you want.” Jeno tries to maintain the steady pace of his thrusting but he could feel himself nearing his own orgasm. He tries to delay it, but with the force of your squeezing he could only put it off for so long. 

Even after climaxing Jeno doesn’t stop fucking you. His hand moves from your hip to your clit in such a subtle manner, you don’t notice until you feel him push your hand away. The way his fingers circle your most sensitive spot, have you going numb with pleasure against the wall. 

His cum drips out onto your leggings and the practice room floor and finally, he’s got you to cum as you chant his name like a mantra.

As you lean against the wall, Jeno’s own body pressed against your back, you think that this may be a regular occurrence if you keep messing up the choreography. 

You can feel it.

© haechaninmyheart — all rights reserved. reposting or modifying of any work posted on this blog is not allowed (including translations).

[milkloafy]

THIS BEAUTIFUL MELODY — WRIOTHESLEY

⋆｡˚ ❀ summary: you notice a beautiful ship and are excited to see what human you can lure out. surprisingly for you, it’s not an entranced sailor, but rather a man who jumped off the ship to chastise you. ⋆｡˚ ❀ wc: 3.2k ⋆｡˚ ❀ genre: mermaid!reader; suggestive, 16+? ⋆｡˚ ❀ a/n: fyi reader is kind of morally gray just like the slightest bit LOL like they don’t wanna gravely harm anyone yk but they get in a silly goofy mood sometimes -3- happy somewhat-unhinged mermay! xo

There was always a slight thrill that accompanied the satisfaction of seducing a human. 

The way they looked at you with such enamorment, as if they would follow you off the face of the earth; the clumsy way they would leap off their boat just for the chance of being in your presence… 

It was one of your favorite pastimes, to be honest. 

Now, it wasn’t something you participated in a lot, but the days when you and your friends had a contest of who could lure the most men at sea were certainly ones you always remembered. 

There was a line you didn’t cross, naturally. 

While you did indeed lure sailors out of the comfort of their own ships and into the waters, you didn’t leave them there. Sure, there were a few cases of people almost drowning, but you were certain you hauled most of them onto a rock or island to be found. Hopefully. 

You just found humans so fascinating, with their helpless little legs and inability to breathe underwater. How easily they became entranced by your alluring song. 

None of the merpeople you have met reacted to you in such a way. In fact, you found most of the mermen particularly annoying even. 

It was a nice day above the ocean today and you spotted a beautiful ship sailing by—The Wingalet it read. A ship of this beauty must have had a captain just as so. You swished your tail in excitement. 

And so your song began. 

A ringing, melancholic beauty slowly filled the air. When you closed your eyes, you could visualize the fog spiraling up from the sea, carrying your voice to the inhabitants of the ship. Could the humans envision it too? You let your mind wander as you sang. 

When you finally opened your eyes, you saw a figure emerge from inside the ship. He stood on the edge, and though you did not see his face, you could sense that he was looking right at you. 

A chill ran up your spine as you giggled in excitement, the playful wavering of your tune only adding to the appeal. You watched as the man leapt off the boat, swimming towards you. To your surprise, he was able to navigate the waves with relative ease—for better than any human you’ve lured before.

“Hey,” he called in a firm tone as he neared you, startling you to a stop. No human has ever reacted with such a tone. 

You didn’t let that phase you as you smiled coyly at him, shifting your hair to expose the skin of your neck and collarbones. With all the flattery you could muster, you greeted, “Hello, Captain.”

He nodded. If he was affected at all by your antics, you honestly couldn’t tell. “It’s ‘Your Grace,’ actually. Or simply Wriothesley is fine.”

Your brows raised, unsure if you should be impressed by the title. It certainly wasn’t as grand as ‘Your Highness.’ “Well, simply Wriothesley it is, then. What a unique and lovely name.” 

“Thank you for the compliment,” said Wriothesley, wiping a water droplet from his forehead. “But I do have to ask— Could you please stop singing your song around here?” 

You blinked. “Pardon?”

“It is beautiful, don’t get me wrong, but are you aware of how many civilians I’ve had to drag back from the rocks?”

Feeling chastised, your face heated up and you no longer felt the trance flowing from you. “Are you not grateful I dragged them to the rocks?” 

Wriothesley sighed, treading water significantly better and longer than most humans could. He wasn’t falling on his face at the sight of your beauty, nor did he seem seduced by your song. You gazed at him curiously. Just who was this man aboard the Wingalet? 

Whoever he was, he ruined your fun. 

Where was the helpless, strong sailor who bowed to your every whims—for the few moments they could last in the ocean, at least. This reaction, or lack thereof, was new and you weren’t entirely sure if you liked it. 

It had been a while since you last lured a sailor… Did you lose your touch? Your friends would have had a field day if they learned about your humiliation. 

“All things considered, I appreciate you don’t leave my people behind after toying with them, but I would appreciate even more if you didn’t toy with them altogether,” he said after moments of contemplation. 

Your mouth dropped. In all your life you have never been spoken to in such a way. Or rather, not by a human. Some mermen you knew could be just as fussy. “I would appreciate it if my hobby wasn’t judged so harshly.” 

Wriothesley shook his head. “It is not my place to judge. But as you are in the borders of Fontaine, it would only be fair if the rules of the region applied to you as well. Including not bringing harm upon others. Is that what your hobby is?”

“I’m not harming anyone!” you protested, folding your arms defensively. 

As you frowned, you couldn’t help but notice the way Wriothesley’s gaze followed the water droplets down to the curve of your breasts. A hint of mischievousness made its way back to you. Perhaps he wasn’t as unaffected by you as he tried to seem. You decided to adjust your tone to one more…appropriate for the situation. 

“Your Grace,” you said apologetically, lips slightly parted as you shyly batted your lashes. He wet the corner of his mouth but didn’t blink an eye. “I truly mean no harm to you or your people. I only wanted to sing for you all.”

Wriothesley raised a brow as you fluttered over to him. 

“The merfolk back home don’t care for my music,” you said with a sigh, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “You humans have much better taste.” 

As you drew nearer, you heard the labored breaths coming from him; his movements grew languid as well. You blinked. He had seemed so unbothered and confident, you almost believed he had no trouble keeping up on his own. Still, you reminded yourself he was a pitiful human—no matter how big and handsome he was. 

“Let me help you, Your Grace.” You offered him an arm to guide him along. “I know a cove not too far from here where you can rest.” 

Though tired, he managed, “Or, you could help me back to my ship that’s also not far from here.”

“But then how would I get on board with you?” you pouted, splashing water up with your tail. “I’m still not done with you yet.” 

Wriothesley choked out a laugh, slightly incredulous. Still he decided to humor you and nodded. “Sure, then. Lead me to your cove. Not that I have much choice, if you think about it.”

“I could also leave you on a sharp rock if you annoy me,” you offered. 

He sighed, an amused look littering his face. “Wherever you wish, darling.”

Your stomach jumped at the pet name, pleased at the sound of it. Sure, this man may be difficult compared to all the others, but maybe that would just make this more fun. 

Deciding against the large rock for today, you began to lead Wriothesley to a nearby island. It was small and quaint but the waves were calm and the vegetation was fruitful. Plus, there was a cove on the other side where you enjoyed picking shells. Perhaps you could show Wriothesley your shell collection if he kept his mouth shut for long enough. 

As you continued swimming, you noticed the grip of his hand tightened. You looked back and he was showing more signs of fatigue. 

“We’re almost there,” you murmured, not necessarily out of concern for him, but rather concern for the extra work you’d have to do if you had to haul an unconscious person onto land. “Don’t pass out yet.”

“Since when were you so sweet?”  he drawled. 

With a huff, you pulled him the final stretch of the way, not letting go until you were certain he could stand steadily on his own.

To your surprise, he did not stumble as he collected himself, even after you let him go. You hummed in delight, Wriothesley must be really strong if he could withstand all that. 

Once he was settled, you hauled yourself further along the shore. When the water become too shallow to comfortably maneuver around, you cleared your throat and looked up at him. When the two of you made eye contact, you lifted your arms, prompting him for assistance. 

Could you haul yourself to land without help? Yes, you’ve done so a million times before. But why would you do it yourself when you knew someone else was capable of doing it for you? 

Wriothesley let out a surprised laugh, voice sounding strained. “Are you asking me to carry you?”

Your eyes widened with indignation. “Of course not!” How could he possible have mistaken your gestures to mean wanting to be carried? “I’m only asking you to drag me over to the shore…”

He almost choked at your words before shaking his head. You twirled you hair around your finger. Was that strange of you to say? “Does that not hurt your scales?”

You thumped your tail down and splashed water on the both of you, displaying your tail’s capability. “My scales are strong,” you chirped.

Wriothesley hid a smile. “Allow me to be a gentlemen this once.”

“What do you mean—?”

You cut yourself off with a yelp as you felt yourself being lifted into the air. Dread filled your body at this unfamiliar feeling and you began to squirm around, wanting to get out. 

“Hey now,” he said in a soothing voice, arms tightening around you to offer a sense of security. “I’m only helping you get to the sand with me. I’ll make sure you are still close enough to the water. And I won’t drop you, if that is what you are fearful of.”

“Are you certain?” 

You heard the horror stories about humans. Some would cut off the tails of merfolk and sell the scales. Others who simply wanted to sate their morbid curiosity and know how your kind tasted… You shuddered.

“I promise no harm will come to you,” stated Wriothesley, slowly kneeling to the ground and placing you on the sand. “See, it was only a short trip. It’s over now. I’m sorry for starling you.”

You sniffled, folding your arms across your chest. “I forgive you. But I am not showing you my shell collection anymore.” 

He chuckled, placing his hand to his heart. “That wounds me.” Wriothesley took a seat beside you in the sand, letting out a sigh of relief as he stretched out his legs. “Maybe next time then.”

“Perhaps if I find you worthy enough,” you said haughtily. “Only a select few can see my collection. Or…perhaps it would be enough if you managed to get one of those orange-looking fruits from the land over there.” 

Wriothesley followed your gaze. “The bulle fruit,” he said in understanding. “You want me to get you one?”

You nodded eagerly, your mouth watering at the thought. You had never tried one yourself—to be frank, the sand was just a bit too hot for your tail and you weren’t able to stand up and reach the fruit on those rare occasions you did make it far enough. But you imagined it was juicy and delicious.

Despite how tired he must’ve been after treading the ocean water for such a long time and carrying you to shore, Wriothesley still stood up and walked over to the nearest fruit tree. Your eyes widened as he punched the trunk of the tree, catching a fruit as it fell, instead of reaching up and picking one from the leaves. 

You grumbled, wishing you had thought of that method yourself.

Wriothesley returned shortly with two fruits in hand, one for each of you. You graciously accepted the bulle fruit and the two of you munched together.

As the juices hit your tongue on your first bite, you let out a noise of satisfaction. It was both sweet and sour, the perfect balance that made you want more. While you had a preference for salty things, seeing as you lived underwater, you had to pay respect where respect was due. 

Wriothesley looked over at you with a chuckle. “Is it to your liking?” 

“Enough so that I may even show you one of my shells.”

“I’m honored.”

As you continued eating your snack, you began talking to him about whatever came to mind—what you had for breakfast the other day, the pretty seahorse you recently befriended, and the unsung horrors of trying to date your fellow merfolk.

Throughout it all, Wriothesley paid the utmost attention to you. He responded and reacted when appropriate and seemed like he was genuinely interested in what you had to say. He wasn’t even entranced by your powers, yet he acted in such a way… To say you were pleased was an understatement.

When you finally decided to take a break from talking, Wriothesley finally spoke up. “Is this the only reason why you choose to lure sailors to you? So you can sing and talk and get fruit?”

A human may have felt ashamed at his words, but you simply nodded. “And so they can pay attention to me and give me compliments.” You looked at him pointedly. “None of which I have received from you, by the way.”

He let his eyes trail down body, from the slightest protrusion of your collarbones down to the tip of your tail, then back up to your face. You squirmed against the heat of his gaze, your throat feeling dry at the intensity.

“Do you want me to begin complimenting you?”

Never once had you shied away from flattery, but the look in his eyes were different—darkened and sincere, not the glazed-over and enamored ones you had grown accustomed to.

“Maybe later,” you managed, feeling bashful under his earnest stare. 

Wriothesley smirked but he did not push further. Instead he asked, “Do you want to know what I think, darling?”

You raised your brows, wondering why it sounded like a challenge. “Why not?”

“I think you are charming and beautiful, but lonely.”

Your mouth dropped in surprised. Was he trying to insult you?

“You want someone who is obsessed with you and only you, and you think it’s fun to see just how smitten you can make someone, no matter who they are.”

Curiously, you looked up at him, staying silent as he talked. 

“But I think you find this more fun.” 

“This?” you questioned.

Wriothesley nodded. “I’m not under your little siren spell, yet here I am—hanging onto your every word like it’s the best thing I’ve heard in my life. It’s a different kind of power you have over me. Is that not thrilling to you?”

You sat in your thoughts for a few brief moments. As fun as it was to make people fall over their own feet at the sight of you, Wriothesley was right. This was a different kind of attraction. You felt it in his stare, in the way he examined your every move. It was addicting in its own right.

“I have a proposal for you,” he offered, fishing something out of his pocket. It was a necklace with a dainty, yet regal shell attached as the pendant. “Instead of enchanting some innocent civilians with your song, why don’t you call on me wherever you get the urge?”

Wriothesley softly placed the necklace on your hands and you brushed your fingers atop the smooth surface. It was a gorgeous, vibrant blue.

“Sing only for me, into the shell, and I will come to you as fast as I can.”

“And if you don’t come?” you tested. 

“I will.” 

You hummed, considering his words. Did he enjoy your presence that much? Or was this some sort of trick? How he was immune to your song was a mystery in itself. Maybe the only way you would find out is spending more time with him, to begin with.

“Something troubling you, darling?”

“Just you,” you said honestly.

He laughed, drawing circles in the sand between your body and his. “I understand your reason for skepticism. But my reasons aren’t entirely selfless. Do you find it hard to believe that I want to see you again, too?” 

Wriothesley glanced at you and grinned, bringing his hand up to wipe your plump lower lip. Your eyes widened.

“Bulle fruit juices,” he said, bringing his thumb to his mouth. You saw the pink of his tongue jut out to take in the leftover fruit.

You looked away, flustered. You were not sure how to react. Something about him felt so indecent…so daring. Had he no shame? And that was coming from a merperson! 

Yet you still craved more. 

“It also helps to know the more time you want to spend with me, the less time you’ll be seducing other men for your enjoyment.” 

“Who says I won’t do both?” you challenged. 

He had a confident look on his face as he said, “I’ll make sure it’s only me you will want to see.” 

Heat filled your face as you bit out, “Such arrogant words for a human.” 

“Such beautiful innocence for a siren.”

“Mermaid,” you corrected. 

“Mermaid,” he said. “Apologies.”

“You’re forgiven.” 

Wriothesley laughed as he stared off into the distance. You looked along with him and noticed his ship drawing closer. Frowning, you avoided his gaze. 

“You’re leaving already?”

“I have some Duke duties to head back to,” he said apologetically, patting the top of your head as he stood, “but don’t forget the necklace I gave you.”

You placed it around your neck, satisfied when Wriothesley’s gaze zeroed in on where the pendant fell between your breasts. “You better come when I sing to you, Your Grace.”

“I’ll be there, darling.” Wriothesley kissed the back of your hand before he waved goodbye. “And who knows, maybe next time I can take you back to my place for a bit. There’s someone I’d like you to meet. A Melusine nurse. She may have a few tricks up her sleeve if you’re interested in some land legs for a day.” 

Your eyes widened as you looked down at your tail. You loved it, very much so, but you were always curious about life above water. Eagerly, you nodded. “Okay! Then, you better come quick.” 

“As soon as I hear your pretty song,” he called out his promise. “Until then, farewell.”

Admiring the pretty new necklace you acquired, you waved goodbye at Wriothesley. He was handsome and you knew the both of you wanted more. But you wondered just how upset you could make him if he were to find out you sang your song for another sailor before you called on him.

You smiled to yourself, pressing a kiss to the shell once his ship sailed away. “Don’t be too mad, okay, Wriothesley? I’m just having some extra fun.” 

[vbecker10]

You Are My Home

Pairing: Loki x female reader (y/n)

Summary: Loki leaves you for a month to visit Asgard with Thor and you are more then excited to welcome him home.

A/N: This is not what I'm supposed to be working on right now but I listened to the song linked below on the way home and the damn thing just wrote itself... enjoy 💚

In the two and a half years you and Loki have been together, this is by far the longest you have ever been apart. Loki would often spend a few days or even a week away on missions but today is day thirty without him. He and Thor returned to Asgard to take care of a political matter and you were both devastated to find out you would not be able to go with him. You had cried yourself to sleep in his arms the night before he left and you haven't slept a full night since.

You spent the whole day anxiously awaiting this moment, he is finally going to arrive any minute. Looking at yourself in the window, you check your makeup and hair for the hundredth time, wanting to look perfect for him. You smooth out the fabric on your favorite dress and smile, Loki bought it for you to wear for your first anniversary. It is a deep emerald green and fits your body as if it was made for you.

The wind picks up suddenly and your heart beats faster, you know instantly the Bifrost is opening. You turn away from the building and walk across the grass to wait closer to the open area where they will arrive. You can barely contain your excitement as the air around you buzzes. Lightning and streaks of bright colored lights pierce the thick clouds and burn into the dried grass behind the Avengers Compound.

You force yourself to stay where you are until the wind ties down and the lights fade. You see two tall figures standing in the center of a charred spiral.

"Loki!" your legs immediately carry you towards him.

"Y/N!" he answers, his voice full of joy as he quickly moves to meet you. He pulls you into a tight hug, lifting you easily off the ground as he spins, making you giggle. You wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his desperately, as if you are trying to make up for all of the kisses you two have missed out on in the last month.

"Gods, how I've missed you," he says when you break the kiss, he puts you down and keeps his arms around you.

"I missed you every second you were gone," you tell him honestly. "Promise me if you ever go home again, you'll take me with you."

He raises one hand to stroke your cheek lightly, "Asgard is many things, my dear, but I don't call it home anymore."

You look at him curiously and he smiles, "I was going to wait to do this until tonight but I don't want to wait another moment."

He looks over his shoulder at his older brother who smiles at you both and takes a few steps away.

You cover your mouth with your left hand as your heart pounds quickly in your chest. "Loki?" you barely whisper in disbelief as he take a small step away from you and gets down on one knee.

A small ring box appears in one hand with a green flash and he takes your right hand in his other hand.

"Y/N, home is where you are and every night I spent alone on Asgard was worth it to come back to you. You are my home, you are my everything when I feel alone. You are my shelter when all my hope is gone. You are my heart, you are the one I want to spend every minute of every day with. I love you with every fiber of my being," he says as he looks up at you. "Y/N, my love, my queen. Will you make me the happiest man in the nine realms by becoming my wife?"

"Yes! Yes," you say excitedly as Loki stands. "I love you," you tell him as he slips the most beautiful ring you have ever seen onto your finger.

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚

@soubi001 @michelleleewise @harlequin-hangout @ace-of-gay @xorpsbane @mochie85 @sheris532 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @kkdvkyya @animnerd @peaches1958 @peachyjinx @lokiandbuckysdoll @winterfrostlovetriangle @high-functioning-lokipath @winniewings @pics-and-fanfics @cabingrlandrandomcrap @icytrickster17 @lokisgoodgirl @mischief2sarawr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @mjsthrillernp @holdmytesseract @lulubelle814 @crimson25 @goblingirlsarah @janineb86 @simone818283 @tonystank8 @im-briana-stan @foxherder @chantsdemarins @catsladen @alexakeyloveloki @siconetribal @lokidokieokie @dragonmurray @honeydew3064 @malfoycassimalfoy @kneelingformyloki @newtomofgods @jiyascepter @eleniblue

[birdiewriteslit]

“so american”

nico hischier x f!reader

masterlist

inspired by “so american” by olivia rodrigo

warnings: fluff, kissing

can you tell i love nico in a hat

You were sitting in the passenger side of Nico’s car with your feet up on the dash. The window was down, and your arm was hanging out of it, the cool wind blowing your hair around your face.

It was spring, and the weather was just starting to feel like it. It had been cold for the past few weeks, and both you and Nico were happy to finally be able to enjoy semi-warm temperatures.

You loved driving around Jersey with Nico. You loved sneaking glances at him while he was too focused on the road to notice. You loved how warm his hand felt on your thigh. You loved how his t-shirt fit you and how it smelled like him. You also loved that he let you have aux privileges.

Nico frowned at you as one of your country songs came on the playlist. If his brown puppy dog eyes weren’t covered by his dark sunglasses, they would probably be enough to convince you to change the song.

You giggled at his displeasure, consoling him by lacing your fingers through his that rested on your thigh. He seemed to accept this, a small smile on his face as he shook his head.

He gave you one last once over before focusing on the road again. His smile grew wider. “You look so American.”

You let out a surprised noise. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Nico shrugged. “You’re listening to country music, for one. I only ever see people’s feet on the dashboard in movies, very American.”

“You don’t do this in Switzerland? You don’t relax with your hand out the window like this?” you teased, making wave motions with your arm in the wind.

He laughed, squeezing your hand as he did so. “We relax. It’s just different here. I like your Americanness. I guess the exception is that you’re wearing a Swiss’s shirt, which you look very pretty in, by the way,” he said slyly, raising your hand to his lips to kiss it.

You felt your face heat up as you watched the smile that spread across his face as he pulled away. “God, Nico, don’t make me blush.”

But that’s really all he did, it was what he was best at. You knew he loved how flustered he could make you if he wanted to. He loved how after five months of dating, he could still easily make you nervous.

The next day, at brunch with your friends, you expressed your utter happiness, but at a table full of mostly single women, it wasn’t received the way you intended.

“I’m serious when I say that I have never seen a more attractive man in my life. Like, seriously, compare him to any celebrity crush you’ve ever had, and multiply that attractiveness by a thousand,” you babbled mindlessly to your friends, who were giving each other looks. “And, ugh, don’t get me started on his accent. It’s so hot, especially when he talks me through it.”

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” your friend said, holding up her hand, a disgusted look on her face. “Frankly, it’s rude to talk about this during brunch. I mean, right in front of my french toast?” She gestured to her plate.

Another friend snorted. “I hate to say it, Y/n, but I agree. You literally only talk about him anymore. It’s like you’re gonna marry him.”

“I might,” you blurted.

Their eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Are you serious?”

You gave a small nod, suddenly uncomfortable by the amount of eyes one you. “I know it’s early but—“

“But you love him,” one of your married friends sighed. “It certainly sounds like you do,” she added after getting some looks from the other women at the table.

You didn’t respond, instead choosing to remain silent as the conversation steadily flowed away from you. You but the inside of your cheek, thinking about how you definitely loved Nico. You knew this before today, but with your history of failed relationships, you figured taking it slow with him was a good idea.

You weren’t lying about marrying him. If he kept this shit up, you were going to.

That night, you were lying in bed, eyes on the bathroom door, where Nico was on the other side. In your shorts and tank top, you were a little cold, and the top blanket wasn’t doing much for you.

When Nico slept over, you rarely made it under the covers. He naturally ran hot, and if you were covered by more than one blanket, you would literally overheat.

Finally, he came out of the bathroom. He was wearing a Devils t-shirt that was well worn and mostly likely from several seasons ago. He wasn’t wearing pants, his boxers out for you to ogle at, although you knew you shouldn’t.

Nico walked over to his side of the bed, stopping before he climbed under the blanket to pick up a book on your nightstand. You’d both read it and come to the conclusion that it was a waste of your good money.

“Why do you still have this?” he asked, showing you the cover. “I can’t believe your friend recommended it.”

“I like reading your notes. I think it’s cute how angry you get,” you admitted.

He set the book down and got into the bed, covering you with his body, instantly warming you up.

Wrapping his arms securely around you, he pressed his face into the crook of your neck. He sighed into your skin, his warm breath fanning out and his stubble tickling you.

He placed small kisses up your neck, trailing along your jaw before capturing your lips with his. Between kisses, he said, “Missed you today.”

Your heart fluttered at his words. “Yeah?” you said, smiling against his lips. “I missed you.”

He pressed one last kiss to your lips before pulling away. He brought a hand up to your face, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear, and stroking your face with his thumb. His lips parted, and his eyes were so big and brown that you genuinely felt like you could lose yourself in them.

“I wish you could come with us when we leave.” Nico was referring to an upcoming roadie. He would be gone for a week.

He was looking at you so sincerely, so vulnerably. “I’ll go anywhere you go,” you whispered.

You knew you couldn’t go with him. It wasn’t realistic. But with the way he was looking at you, you really couldn’t hold back from saying something so sappy.

He glanced down at your lips quickly before meeting your eyes again, his thumb continuing to stroke your cheek. “You would?” he asked softly.

You nodded. “I love you, Nico.”

His eyebrows rose in surprise, like he wasn’t expecting you to say it. His lips parted to speak, but nothing came out.

“Sorry if it’s too soon. I know I’m in love with you,” you spoke quickly. “I don’t wanna just assume that you feel the same about all of it.”

He took your face in his hands and kissed you. When he pulled away, he kept his hands on your cheeks and looked at you meaningfully. “I’ve been wanting to say that for months. Trust me, I feel the same. I love you.”

Your face warmed as he looked deeply into your eyes. You surged forward to kiss him again. You peppered his whole face with kisses, and he laughed as he gripped your waist and flipped the two of you over so that you were on top of him.

He grinned at you when you pulled away, his cheeks rosy and his hair slightly messed. “I don’t think I’ll be getting much sleep tonight,” he said.

Your expression matched his perfectly. “I don’t think so either.”

Even though you didn’t confess that earlier that day, you’d thought about marrying him, this was still just as good.

[bluesidez]

GymRat!Miguel Part 3

content warning: small food mentions, a little suggestive at parts so MINORS BEWARE, sexual tension?? 😗, insecure thoughts about a plus size body (may or may not be triggering for some), a few mean girls, college party, alcohol, drugs, mentions of throw up like once, a bad look for sororities (sorry, y'all are probably very wonderful people)

word count: 3.2k (NOT A DRABBLE WTF 😭) not proofread, if you see a mistake lmk

GymRat!Miguel's workout playlist is here! I had to stop myself from adding more songs because it’s already so long lol. I didn't even include any cool down songs.

Prev | Next ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist

GymRat!Miguel who wakes up without having to hobble to the bathroom for once. No morning wood because his dream of you was soft this time. You two were cuddled up on a couch with the world’s most fluffy blanket. He smiles to himself as he drags his feet to the bathroom. It was if dancing clouds and bubbles were floating around his head.

GymRat!Miguel who’s able to sit and chat with Ms. Beatrice longer today because his class doesn’t start until that after noon. He compliments her on the egg sandwich from the other day and she squeezes his cheeks when she thanks him as if he were a baby.

GymRat!Miguel who tinkers in the engineering building as he waits for lunch. He joined the small but mighty robotics team as soon as he found out there was one. There was a fighting robot division, and he needed to figure out the problems with his team’s robot sooner rather than later.

GymRat!Miguel who spots you at the student center having your lunch. He wastes no time to grab his food and book it to your table. He calls your name before he gets there, not wanting to startle you. You smile when you look up surprised to see him there.

"Can I join you?" he says, trying not to seem out of breath with how fast his heart is beating.

"Yeah," you say, arranging your things around. You push your computer to the side as he places his burito bowl on the table. "I'm finally getting to see you outside of lab."

In his mind, he takes a note of you being in the student center at this time. He wants to make eating with you a routine thing.

"What were you watching?" he asks, trying to curb the rush that your presence has on him. He opened up his bowl and started to mix his food, waiting patiently for your answer.

"This is a little embarrassing but," you pause to dump one of your nuggets in sauce. "I was watching someone explain the downfall of Chuck E. Cheese." Your voice gets softer as you finish your sentence, eyes avoiding his gaze.

You were so cute. And it's almost as if you've never met him, the ultimate nerd.

"Nothing wrong with wanting to know why more and more locations went from five animatronics to one. Or how they started to sell their pizzas under ghost kitchens," he says, taking a bite from his bowl.

You looked at him and your smile grew. Miguel could only think 'there she is. there's my girl.'

The two of you chatted about everything from malfunctioning Chuck E's to your classes to your food. Miguel was through the roof.

GymRat!Miguel who offers to carry your art portfolio case for you to the art building. Anything to extend your time together. Plus, why should you have to hold it when he's here? He holds the doors for you and presses the elevator buttons before you can even think to.

GymRat!Miguel who really loves when the elevator door closes and he can look down at as you talk away. Just for those few seconds, the outside world is quiet and it's just you two. In another world, he'd kiss you before the doors open. In another world, he'd tilt your head up and have you look at him when you speak, he wanted to read your eyes too.

You're staring at him expectantly, eyes reminding him of baby deers. He tilts his head at you, wondering why you're staring at him.

"Miguel the door is open. We have to leave before it closes," you say.

He's instantly broke back to reality.

"Right! Sorry," he says, heat rising on the back of his neck. He steps out and holds his hand in front of the opening so that the door doesn't close you.

"Thank you," you say, a giggle under your breath.

Miguel has done some pretty embarrassing things when it comes to you, but he didn't think it would bleed into when he was actually in front of you.

In this world, he needed to not give you the creeps. Get it together.

GymRat!Miguel who is ecstatic that you still want to come work out with him. You all plan to meet that Friday. You don't know what you want to work out, but you say you're excited. Miguel has tonight, Wednesday, and Thursday to plan the perfect workout for you.

Should he go buy a bottle so he can make you a smoothie? Or should he offer to buy you a smoothie afterwards? Do you even like smoothies? Maybe he should invite you to breakfast. Would you want to eat right after you worked out? You needed to eat to make sure you can speed up the healing process though....

GymRat!Miguel who waves you goodbye when it's almost time for your studio class to start, mind filled with so many questions.

Your friend turns to you immediately when Miguel is gone.

"And who was that?" she says, eyes shocked.

"He's a guy from my lab. His name is Miguel," you say, grinning in your hands. You felt like kicking your feet in the air, but alas, no time.

"He's super hot. Like, seriously," your friend says, moving her taboret next to her workspace. "I would hit it. Constantly."

"Please stop talking," you say, laughing along. "I'm not even sure if he goes for girls like me. I'd rather not get my hopes up." You wanted to keep yourself in reality and falling for Miguel might put you too close to the land of delusion. You figured that Miguel was just super nice, especially after you two worked so hard for that lab project.

Your friend stops and looks at you, she slams the liquin tin on the table and puts her hand on her hip.

"First of all, those "types of guys" love big girls, so don't give me that. Second of all, are you not seeing how he looks at you. He's giving you the biggest puppy dog eyes, like, ever." She picks the liquin tin back up and starts scooping aggressively at the sides. "You gotta be more confident! You're gorgeous, anyone with a functioning brain can see that."

You stand there stunned, shocked at your friend's outburst. "I am confident!" Partially true. "I just...don't want to be hurt."

"I understand that, but have you even asked if he likes you or not?"

You shake your head no.

"Exactly. The night is still young," your friend says, pointing her palette knife at you. "And if you don't go for it, I will."

"Oh my god, shut up," you say, throwing a crumbled shop towel at her. You still kept her words in the back of your mind, storing it for later.

GymRat!Miguel who paces in front of the campus gym, waiting for your arrival. He got up extra early and gave himself a pep talk in the mirror. It wasn't a date, per se, but he felt that it could lead to one if he played his cards right. He decided to just invite you out to eat, figuring you would bring your stickered-water bottle.

GymRat!Miguel who spots you before you even call his name. He waves, smile taking over his features. You wave back, and it isn't until you're ten steps away that he finally takes in your full outfit. Another two-piece that was going to be the death of him, the only thing was that this was in the flesh. He cursed under his breath before you got closer, brain short-circuiting at the fabric hugging your skin.

"Ready to go?" he asks, forcing himself to not look at your body and to look at your face.

"Yeah! I'm a little nervous but I'm ready to work," you say, following him to the door.

He opens the doors for you, "Nothing to be nervous about. You're in good hands."

He brings you to his locker so you can put your bag in there, not wanting anyone to snag your belongings.

You guys start at the track, walking a lap as a warm up. Usually Miguel would do a lap or two of jogging, and as much as he wanted to watch you bounce, especially on him, this was a beginner workout. He didn't want to scare you with how intense he can get. While walking, you guys chatted about little things. Miguel tells you how wasn't nearly this big four years ago, ensuring you that the path to get here can be hard. You tell him that you just want be healthy, not caring if you lost weight or gained muscle. Miguel was secretly happy to hear this because he liked your body the way it was, but he would roll with whatever you were feeling.

GymRat!Miguel who helps you stretch. You both sit on the floor and face each other with your feet touching. Miguel saw how much smaller your feet were compared to his and his heart fluttered. His mind was filled with a million voices rambling off new things about you.

"She's focusing so hard"

"How can a gym outfit be so hot"

"She's so close to me when we do this stretch"

"Her hands are so warm"

"Maybe I should have stretched her from behind too"

That last thought gets Miguel to move you guys to the next part of the routine. How is his head always in the gutter?

GymRat!Miguel who starts you off with dumbbells, giving you the 5 lb weights to start. He starts you off with a few shoulder and arm exercises, giving you tips and praise along the way. His touches linger on your arms as he corrects your form, watching your body intensely. His constant "good"s, "one more''s, and "uh huh"s hit you right in your core. You're thankful that you're out of breath and heated from the workout, otherwise you would have melted before him.

GymRat!Miguel who pulls out all of the stops, using the heavier weights for his sets. He screams on the inside when you cheer him on. You clap at the end of one of his harder sets, happy that he pushed himself. He bows in silly way, sweat dripping down his face and laughing at your actions.

GymRat!Miguel who spots you while you use a heavier weight to do squats. You wanted to go for the 15 lb weight even though it was your first time doing weighted squats. He didn't want you to fall over, so he stood behind you and held his hands in the air by your waist as you went down. He knew that he was supposed to be focused, but he couldn't help but to glance at your ass a few times. God.

GymRat!Miguel who ends off your workout with the bikes, you guys making it a small competition. He stands and cycles, watching as your jaw dropped. You started to stand but got a little scared and gave up quick. Miguel couldn't have that. He stopped moving and got up to be by your side.

"You got it! Don't be scared," he says, watching you work.

"I literally can't do that," you say, cycling a little faster.

"Sure you can! Try it, I'm right here," he says, encouraging you.

You fight your fear and stand up and cycle. "Oh my god," you say, breaths coming out hard.

"That's it, that's it," Miguel says, voice warm as he praises you. "You're doing so good. Keep going."

You push until you can't anymore, Miguel cheering at your side.

GymRat!Miguel who guides you to the showers after your workout. It sucks that he can't be in there with you. His imagination can only get him so far.

GymRat!Miguel who waits for you to come out of the bathroom, ready to ask you to go for smoothies and breakfast. He hopes you say yes.

GymRat!Miguel who is in awe again at how you look. How many two-piece sets did you have? How does he survive them every single time? He mutters up the courage to ask you if you wanted to go get smoothies, adding on that he would pay. You glow and say yes, stating that you love smoothies. He's soaring.

GymRat!Miguel who brings your food to the table, two wraps and two smoothies. A protein shake for him and a fruit smoothie for you.

"That was a really good workout today. You definitely put me to work," you say, unwrapping the straw to stab it through the top. You hum at the flavor as you take a sip.

"Good?" Miguel asks, and you nod your head with your thumb up. "I'm glad you liked the workout. I was excited to have a partner."

"A partner? Why didn't you invite us to join?"

You both look up to see a few girls standing by the checkout counter. Miguel notices them as the sorority girls from his literature class. They walk over to your table, eyes twinkling as they take in Miguel.

Miguel chuckles awkwardly, not knowing what to say. He didn't think he had to deal with them outside of class too.

One of the girls look at you and goes, "Oo are you a personal trainer?"

You're taken aback, eyes scanning between the girls. You're about to open your mouth to respond but Miguel gets to them first.

"No, we're workout partners," he says, snapping at the girl. "And we're kind of having a conversation right now so is there anything else that you guys want to say?"

The girl cowers a bit at Miguel's words, laughing as if he told a joke and twirling her hair. The leader of the pack turns to Miguel, "Sorry about that. We wanted to see if you could come to our party tomorrow night. It'll be super fun and we would love to see you there."

A party? Miguel hadn't gone to one since he moved on campus. He always wanted to experience a college one. He turned to you and saw that you just tapped at your phone, not looking to the girls.

"I'll go if I can bring her," Miguel says, tapping his foot against yours. You look up, shock in your eyes,

Some of the girls slump, and the leader tightens her smile, "Fine! That's cool. I'll send you the details later."

The girls walk off and you stare at them, eyes squinting.

"They're an interesting bunch aren't they?" you say, continuing to eat your wrap.

"Right?" Miguel says, turning back to you.

GymRat!Miguel who comes to your dorm, ready to walk you to the party. He knocks on your door, a little nervous. He had on a nice top, the top open a little bit and a thin chain around his neck. After a while, you opened the door and gobsmacked him again with your outfit.

"Wow," he says, standing in the door like an idiot.

"Is it bad?" you ask, body glowing.

"No, you look amazing," Miguel says. "Ready to go?" He holds his arm out, softly smiling at you.

You nod and intertwine your arm through his.

GymRat!Miguel who takes in the atmosphere, frat guys yelling by a pool table, a few girls dancing with red solo cups, some people making out on the couch.

For Miguel, it was a lot.

He turned to you, yelling to ask if you wanted a drink. You say yes and you both make your way to the kitchen.

There, you both are met with the sorority girls crowding the kitchen. Some of them are passing some pills around and others are chatting by the island. One of them looks up and sees you guys lingering by the entrance.

"Miguel! You made it! Come on have a drink," she pulls him closer in the room. "Want a xannie?"

"I'm good," he says, handing you a cup of Pink Whitney. You take a sip and turn your nose a little bit. You might have to suck it up to get through the night.

"I'm so glad you made it. I have something that I've been meaning to show you," she says, batting her eyes. She convinces him to follow her up the stairs.

Miguel yells over his shoulder that he'll be right back.

You stand in the kitchen, fingers tapping against your cup. You felt a little silly and out of place. You didn't know anyone else here and the people were cliquey.

You joined a few games of beer pong, trying to enjoy yourself, but you couldn't help but to think about Miguel.

You dance a little, joining some random girls in the middle of the room. The music is ok, but you were just trying to have a good time. After an hour or so, you get nervous. Miguel hasn't been back in a while.

You head back to the kitchen, thinking maybe he could be in there.

"If you're looking for Miguel, he's probably deep in a bed right now," one girl giggles as she comes up beside you, grabbing another drink.

"What?" you say, eyebrows furrowed.

"Yeah girl, why else would he be gone so long? I tried to go up there and the doors were locked. Just text him tomorrow."

Your hand grips your cup tighter, watching as the girl goes back into the thick of the crowd.

You decide to wait a little longer, scrolling on the same three apps back to back for another hour. You look at the time again and the 3 am stares back at you mockingly.

You figure that he's really not coming back down and open your Instagram to give him a text.

“Hey Miguel! I’m gonna go ahead and go back to my dorm. It's getting pretty late."

You walk back to your dorm, arms wrapped around yourself to brace from the cold.

GymRat!Miguel who finally makes it to a bathroom that's not occupied with some one hovering over the toilet. He feels out of it. Throwing back a few too many shots. He was trying to get back downstairs but there was always someone there to pull him back, offering something.

A shot? Sure.

A pill? No.

A game? Maybe.

The girl who brought him up there tried her best to get in his pants, but if he was being honest, he didn't even remember her name. Or any of the names of the girls that came in afterwards. He declined every one of them, just wanting to get some air.

He was able to check his phone.

3:35 am.

He sees your message and feels sick. He runs downstairs and out the door, the cool air sobering him up a bit.

"Fuck," he says hands to his head. He squats and texts you back.

"I am so sorry. I got caught up. Did you make it back safely?"

It was so late, there was no way you would respond. He fucked up.

He texted Gabriel, maybe his drunk mind pushing him to seek help from his little brother.

"So if I invite a girl to a party and leave her what are the chances that she will text me back? :((("

"Dude. It's almost 4am. And where is this so-called game that you have? Ik you're not asking me about anything"

"Gabri :(((("

"I'll be honest, she's probably blocking your number. IF she even has it lol"

Yeah. He fucked up.

dividers by: @yeribbon 🩵

a/n: Miguel's gym playlist is such a jarring difference from my own gym playlist. 😭 I left you guys with an extra long addition today because I have soooo much hw that's piling up and it's tearing me apart.

As always, leave a like and reblog. Leave comments please. 🥺 I want to see your reactions! Let me know how you feel. 🩵

taglist: @ghost-lantern @miguelhugger2099 @slushycoookie @emelie-s-h @lake-lili @obsessed-with-miguels-ass @scaleniusrm @superiorspiderass @lexluvswriting @flordelalunas @froggygal @vmpz8sauceee @famouscattale @nixinluv02 @jada-of-arcadia @spideykid22 @what-the-jams @julia4today @tojishugetiddies @samjinxx @sleeklyalisha @the-pan-liquid @prongs-lover @kikaaauu @urlocallocachica @wanderlustingcastaway @peachey-pie @ch3rry-bl1ss @girl-of-multi-fandoms @love-kha1 @manlikemilesmyguy @sillysillygoofygoose @monticellohoe

[cheollipop]

heists and celebrations

navi | taglist

pairing: jung wooyoung x fem!reader x choi san

w.c.: 3.9k

tags: smut, they're all criminals/partners in crime, criminal behaviour (theft), mentioned boxer!san and his manager!wooyoung, some reckless driving

with the stolen necklace secured around your neck, wooyoung slumped back in his seat, fingers gripping the steering wheel while his eyes remained focused on the overhead mirror, watching his two partners celebrate another successful heist in the back of his van.

warnings: semi-public sex, van sex, really fucking filthy sex (genuinely disgusting), dom!woosan, sub!reader, some jealousy, reader is wearing red lipstick and it gets everywhere, unprotected sex (👎), creampie, oral (m receiving), deepthroating, cum swallowing, cum sharing, spit kink, praise, degradation (reader is called a slut once), a cute little breeding kink, a sprinkle of breath play (barely any), some begging, overstimulation, nicknames (sannie; youngie; baby, darling, sweetheart, love, good girl, pretty girl), wooyoung watches them fuck the whole time, and teases san because he's cute when riled up

A/N: I've had this fic idea in my notes since the very first woosan teaser dropped so I'm really glad I was finally able to write it out! ( ´∀ `) though challenging fsr, I really enjoyed writing the smut for this one. happy reading! ^^

nsfw under the cut—minors dni!! 🔞

Walking past the metal detectors, you raised your phone to peek at your reflection, making sure the glitter on your eyelids and the red painting your lips were intact, smacking them together once before walking further into exhibit.

Your footsteps slowed as you passed the broad, arched doorway and entered a wider gallery with accessories from numerous eras lining the walls, people crowding in front of the displays. Your eyes trailed over the diamonds and gold encased within the glass boxes, the overhead lights reflecting the luxury accessories. In any other heist, your eyes would remain forward, playing the role of a mere passerby minding their own business. But today, you were just another visitor in this exhibit, ogling at the jewellery on display. A quick, discrete scan of the room was enough to find you your target – standing near the wall to your left, the blonde head of hair displacing him in the monochrome room.

Just as you were about to move towards the tall figure, your gaze unintentionally flitted to the right, colliding with feline eyes staring right back at you from the other side of the room – the man standing idly in a uniform too big for him, bruises from last night’s match tainting his angular features. You twisted your body in the other direction, heeled boots clacking over the polished tile with confident strides, your eyes meeting the blonde man’s and dragging his attention off the rowdy school kids in the far corner. You waited until his gaze fell on you to dig the tip of your tongue into the corner of your mouth, blinking innocently as you approached him, your eyes moving down to read the ID card hanging off his neck.

Security Guard Song Mingi

Stepping into his personal space, your hand flew to his shoulder and you drew your eyebrows together in feigned distress. “Oh, thank God! Sir, could you please help me?”

Mingi’s head lowered to eye the hand resting delicately over his chest, looking back up to meet your anxious eyes. “S-sure, yes, of course," he stuttered when your fingers tightened around his lapel. "What can I help you with?"

You twisted your body and walked backwards until you hit the wall behind him, slumping against it and exhaling deeply. “My friend,” you paused, looking up at him now that he’d turned his back to the rest of the room. You blinked faux tears into your eyes, quivering your bottom lip ever so slightly while you spoke, “I’ve been looking for her for hours. Could you please help me find her, Sir?”

You watched Mingi’s ears shift hues, his head turning to the side as he coughed awkwardly. The bright red blurred in your peripheral as you stared ahead, nodding discretely at the idle figure across the room and watching it slip past the restricted ribbon closing off a section of the exhibit, looking back at Mingi when broad shoulders disappeared behind the corner.

“She said she’d meet me at the Tiffany and Co. section, but she never showed up. She won’t even answer her phone,” you leaned forward to wrap your fingers around his forearm, looking up at him with wide eyes, glassy with simulated concern. “I’m really worried about her, Sir. Please help me?”

--

Nimble fingers worked over the display case’s lock, occasionally looking back at the doorless entrance to confirm he was still in the clear. Moving his attention back to the small keyhole, he worked the pick and wrench inside with steady hands, the flashlight held between his lips reflecting off the glass. A whispered curse vibrated around the flashlight when his jacket sleeve slid down his arm, covering the hand holding the pick – along with the bloody scrapes and bruises colouring his knuckles – but he was too far in to back out now, working the lock with the fabric draped over it. After a few more tries, a muted click sounded and the glass door swung open.

Cat-like eyes raised off the picked lock to examine the diamond necklace hanging off the jewellery stand, studying the angle at which the light bounced off the large stones. Reaching forward, he carefully lifted the necklace with his index and thumb around the clasp, securing it in the felt bag he’d pulled out of his blazer before tucking it back inside. Digging his hand into his back pocket, he pulled out an identical replica – cheap moissanite bedazzling the silver – and intricately placed it inside the case, adjusting it over the stand before closing the glass door and listening for the soft click of its automatic lock.

Pulling the flashlight out of his mouth, he switched it off and patted his breast pocket once before walking back towards the entryway. A quick peek into the short hallway outside to ensure it was empty followed by quick steps past the red ribbon sealing off the section he had been in, San squinted at the bright overhead lights as he made it back into the main gallery, rooting himself in his previous position just in time for five suited men to make their way into the big room. Their conversation continued as they walked past San, nodding in acknowledgement before making their way over the restriction ribbon and through the short hallway, grease from the sandwiches they’d had for lunch coating their moving lips.

The familiar sonance of your laugh drew his attention to the wide entrance, his eyes finding yours over the blonde security guard’s shoulder before trailing down to study the arm draped over your waist. The plan was for you to guide him away from this gallery and into another, but there you were, barely an inch separating you and the tall man. San’s eyebrow twitched at the proximity, but more so at the dumb smile splitting his face in half while his other arm points towards where your ‘friend’ was supposedly waiting for you. Meeting your gaze once again, he gave you a firm nod before solemnly staring ahead.

With a flirty smile and a few bats of your eyelashes, you slipped a fake number into Mingi’s phone and walked away, the guard barely noticing you walking in the opposite direction of which he pointed you in.

San’s eyes flitted to the antique clock hung up on the wall across from him, turning around just in time to watch a man with a sharp nose and jet-black hair approach him. Quickly glancing at his ID card, San bowed slightly and began walking away as his ‘shift’ came to an end.

“Wait,” the deep baritone halted San’s movements, twisting his torso to look back at the guard. “Let me see your ID,” he reached a hand out, palm up and expecting.

San blinked once, twice, before pulling the lanyard off his neck and handing it to the man in front of him, turning his body to face him fully. The grim man examined the card, flipping it over a few times before sliding it back into San’s hand.

“Good work today, Yunho,” he gave him a tight smile which San reciprocated with a small bow before he moved away to stand where San had been all evening.

Stepping out of the stuffy exhibit and into the chilly night, San inhaled deeply, walking down the small steps and reaching into his blazer for the felt bag, swiftly stuffing it into his slacks before shrugging off the loose uniform and slinging it over his shoulder. He strutted down the block, his lips pursed as he whistled mindlessly, his soiled tank top sticking to his body with the night breeze blowing over his skin.

A few minutes of walking led him to a familiar convenience store, the lights flickering weakly and the table set out the front swaying with the light wind. Casually peeking over his shoulder, he made sure no one was following him before turning a corner, your familiar figure – resting against the graffitied wall – waiting for him in the damp alleyway. You pushed yourself off the grimy concrete, a smile stretching your lips when your eyes zeroed in on the felt bag pinched between two of his fingers.

Grabbing onto the thin material of his tank top, you pushed San backwards until his body crashed into the wall, the red on your lips transferring to his when you pressed your mouths together, the metallic taste of blood seeping into your taste buds as you licked over the corner of his lip. San’s fingers wrapped around your nape, inhaling deeply before parting his lips and running his tongue over your bottom teeth. Cold fingers tickled the sides of your neck, a heavy weight falling over your collarbones while San’s tongue pressed against yours. One of your hands untangled from the material of his top, running over your decolletage until your fingers made contact with the cool silver and curved over the slope of the large diamonds. The felt bag – now empty and worthless – fell into the puddle by your feet, the malodor of sewage masked by the hunger in San’s eyes, his hands wandering over your body while he devoured you.

A loud honk from the van parked down the alley cut your fit of passion short. You giggled at San’s irritated griping as you made your way to the vehicle, the metal surface littered with dents of various sizes and the colourful lettering chipping off the white paint. You walked past San as he pulled at the back handles, skipping your way to the front and watching the door fly open, sliding into the passenger seat as Wooyoung retreated back into his.

“Welcome back,” he flicked the tip of your nose, his eyes fixed on the glimmering stones hanging off your neck. “I’m guessing we can skip the debrief?” A lopsided smile pulled at the corner of his mouth.

Looping two fingers around the silver band, he tugged you towards him, the clasp digging into the back of your neck as some of the lipstick still painting your lips smeared over Wooyoung’s, his tongue gliding over yours to flatten over the roof of your mouth.

The curtain behind you slid open, San’s deep grumble obscured by your heavy breathing. “Ya! I worked my ass off to get that. If you wanna pull that hard, just buy her a leash,” he propped his forearm on the back of the seat, resting his chin over it to study the red smudged over Wooyoung’s lips.

“Worked our asses off,” you complained.

“No, I worked my ass off while you were busy flirting with that prick.”

You could see Wooyoung’s eyebrow quirk, his questioning gaze lasting only a second before he parted from you with a final kiss, letting go of the necklace and slumping back in his seat to turn the engine on. “Leave her alone, Sannie. If you wanted to be praised for doing your job right, you should’ve just said so,” he pressed his foot down on the pedal, reversing out of the alleyway before digging his palm into the steering wheel and turning it twice to move onto the empty road.

The pout on your lips faded when your eyes met San’s, angling his chin to point at Wooyoung, the silent communication bringing a shared smile to your lips.

“Youngie,” you tugged on his sleeve, leaning over the console to get closer to him.

“Yeah, baby?” his eyes remained trained on the road, a few cars driving alongside him on the dark highway.

San chuckled breathily, “I think our pretty girl wants to thank you for the ride. We couldn’t have pulled this off without you. Right, sweetheart?”

You nodded eagerly, gliding your palm up his thigh and inwards to tease at his clothed crotch. He glanced over at you, his teeth peeking through his parting lips, the corners curled upwards.

“Oh really? Is there anything else you want to thank me for?”

“Thank you for getting rid of that Yunho guy, we would’ve been in trouble if he had been there,” your fingers trailed over the zipper, circling his button before popping it open.

“Mm, that’s right. Come on now, sweet girl, thank me properly,” Wooyoung slumped further down in his seat, widening his legs and dropping one hand off the steering wheel to give you space.

Just as you freed his half-hard length from the confines of his boxers, San’s hand cupped the back of your head and pushed you down. Your torso bent over the console, the gear stick digging into your waist by the time San let go of you.

You pulled away slightly, fingers wrapped around his base and tongue rolled out to place kitten licks over his cockhead. Wooyoung peeked down at you to follow the line of drool dripping off your tongue to lubricate his cock, snapping his eyes back up to the road with a guttural groan squeezed your fist around him. You pressed your lips to his tip, placing your hands over his upper thighs and moving back to admire the painted outline of your lips – the last of your lipstick colouring it red.

When you deemed him hard enough, your lips closed around his leaking head, giving him a gentle suck to feel his thighs contract before taking him further into your mouth. You nuzzled your nose into the hair around his base and relaxed your throat, flattening your tongue over the underside of his cock and reveling in the tight grunts it elicited from above.

A loud horn blared from the lane beside yours, Wooyoung’s vision unblurring and his palm hurriedly gliding over the steering wheel to adjust the swerving van. San snickered behind him, partly at your muffled coughs around the younger man’s cock as the rough steering jerked your body around. You pull away to breathe once the vehicle settled, inhaling deeply and clearing your throat, the bitter taste of precum on your tongue.

“I don’t think she’s thanking you hard enough, Youngie,” San tsked behind you, palming over his clothed cock as he took in your red eyes and sniffling nose.

“Mm, I think you’re right,” the arm resting idly over the console raised, fingers tangling in the hair at your nape and pushing your head downwards until the warmth of your mouth engulfed him once again, soft groans escaping through gritted teeth as your throat constricted around his tip. With the hand in your hair, he began moving you over his cock, bobbing your head and noting the weight of the necklace adoring your neck falling over his thigh every time his tip brushed against your uvula. “Fuuuuck, that’s my good girl.”

The outline of his vein slid over your tongue, pulsing as you took him down your throat. You could hear the slick movement of San’s hand over his cock, his eyes moving between your stretched lips and Wooyoung’s parted ones, soft, breathy moans muffled under the wind rushing through the open window. You felt him twitch inside your mouth, the familiar clench of his abdomen egging you on, taking him all the way and hollowing your cheeks. The van veered to the left again, Wooyoung’s eyes barely open as pleasure rushed through his veins with every squeeze around his cockhead. You swallowed around him once, twice, before gagging around the hot ribbons of white shooting down your throat. The limp fingers in your hair regained their strength, pushing your head down while he rolled his hips into your mouth, your jaw going slack as he used you to milk out the last of his cum.

San’s eyes fluttered shut to take in the melodies playing through Wooyoung’s parted lips – rough grunts paired with airy moans while he fucked the last of his load into your mouth, pulling you off him to wipe the tip of his cock over your face, a line of cum smeared over your cheek. A few seconds of muted shuffling passed before saltiness consumed San’s tastebuds, your mouth roughly pressing against his, tongue breaching his lips to share some of Wooyoung’s release. His Adam’s apple bobbed, eagerly swallowing down the tangy liquid before diving in for more, pushing you further into him with a hand to the back of your head. A throaty moan vibrated against your lips, San’s cock lurching in his limp fist as he sucked the last of Wooyoung’s load off your tongue. Pulling away, you grabbed San’s jaw firmly and moved your head closer to spit into his open mouth, a mixture of your spit and his marbled with milky white reflecting the passing streetlights before disappearing down his throat.

“Wooyoung, fuck,” he spoke, words slurred from the tight grip you have on his jaw, rolling his wrist around his leaking cockhead. “Pull over. I need her right fucking now.”

--

The van jumped over a speedbump, the driver too distracted to slow down, eyes trained on the overhead mirror instead of the road as two bodies moved steadily in the reflection. Two fingers twisted the volume knob to the left, silencing the music to revel in the harmony of moans surging from the back of the van.

The worn-down mattress was anything but comfortable, your dripping pussy adding to the stains decorating it. Looking over to the side, your eyes settled on the discarded boxing gloves from the night before, splotches of maroon flaking off the faux leather. One of San’s hands cupped the back of your head, pushing your face down while he pounded into you from the back, his other pulling at the necklace around your neck, the diamonds pressing into your skin to form thin crescents.

Wooyoung scoffed at the sight – red spreading from the soiled collar of San’s tank top and up to his neck, beads of sweat rolling down his skin and sinking into the cheap cotton. “What happened to all your hard work, hm?” his eyes rolled down to San’s white knuckles, wrapped tightly around the accessory restricting your airflow.

“Shut up,” he spat, his hips slamming into the backs of your thighs as he pumped his cock between your fluttering walls. The hand covering the back of your head slid down your spine to squeeze at your waist, his blunt nails stabbing into your heated flesh while husky grunts vibrated through his throat.

Wooyoung’s eyes shifted to your face, concealed as you looked over to the side, your lips parted with drool pooling under your head. “Aw, I think Sannie got a little jealous earlier. Right, sweetheart?”

The words reduced to mere sounds in your head, the syllables meshing as San’s cockhead pistoned into your g-spot, barely registering the rough fingers tangling into the hair at your crown before sharp pain seared through your scalp, your chest lifting off the tattered mattress and neck craning as San angled your face upwards. You sucked in deep breaths now that the silver band wasn't digging into your neck, choking around broken cries of pleasure. Hooded eyes studied your face in the small mirror – pupils dilated, tears and glitter eyeshow staining your heated cheeks with saliva trickling down your chin, body jerking forward every time San’s hips slammed into yours, his cock stretching you open around his girth.

“'Don’t think she can answer,” San rasped, his eyes dropping to watch the flesh of your ass ripple every time he drove into your clenching cunt. “Ah- So fucking tight for me.”

Wooyoung’s fingers squeezed around the steering wheel, “is he fucking you good, baby?” The corners of his lips twitched with a concealed smirk, “or is my pretty slut still thinking about that man’s cock?”

Your brain short-circuited, shots of burning pleasure soaring through your veins and forcing your eyes shut. “it’s good, s-so good,” your speech was barely coherent, moans spilling out of you as San continued to fuck you through Wooyoung’s interrogation.

“What about my second question?” San’s eyes flew towards the mirror to meet Wooyoung’s, clenching his jaw so tight it bordered on painful, the younger man smiling to himself over how easy it was to rile San up.

San rammed his cock inside you, holding it deep within your cunt while he bent at the waist to whisper in your ear, the deep baritone of his voice nearly masked under your pathetic moaning, “be a good girl and answer Youngie’s question, or have I already fucked you dumb?"

“I-I’m not! ‘Love Sannie’s cock so much- hnngh!” your upper body flopped onto the mattress, your scalp burning under the palm San had flattened over your head, fingers rubbing soothing lines over your roots while he ground his cock into your heat.

“That’s right,” he pressed his lips to your slick shoulder and gave you a harsh thrust, rolling his hips once, twice before pulling off you. His hands slid down your body to grab at your hips, dragging you back over his length with a grip tight enough to promise bruises. One of his knees nudged against your inner thigh to spread your legs even further, giving you a few seconds to breathe before he began hammering his cock into you. “Love my cock so much you’ll let me breed this tight pussy, won’t you, darling?

“Nghh- fuck! Sannie, please-”

“Give it to me, love, ‘wanna feel you cream all over my cock,” the tautness of his voice, strained as he chased his orgasm with sloppy thrusts, was enough to send you over the edge.

Your vision went black as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, thighs shaking while you your orgasm rushed through you. A succession of curses and San’s name rolled off your tongue, followed by desperate pleas for him to come as he frantically humped your overstimulated cunt. Your body jolted as pain mixed with pleasure, your vision blurring with tears while San used you like a cocksleeve, leaning over you to whisper in your ear, whimpered praise falling off his tongue – a melody of ‘just a little more’ and ‘you can take it’ sending shivers down your spine.

You felt him split you open thrice before a familiar warmth spread through your lower belly, his cock twitching between your fluttering walls as he unloaded his seed inside you. His arms wrapped around your middle, holding your body flush against his shuddering chest while he grinded into your used cunt, draining himself of every last drop. Delicate hands smoothed over your sides at the pained whimper you released into the dungy mattress, San’s softening cock slipping out of you and making way for a stream of his cum to trickle out of your gaping hole. He took a few seconds to moon over the mess he'd created before pursing his lips and adding to it, dropping a wad of spit onto your drenched pussy, your hips jolting when a calloused thumb ran through the fluids painting your folds.

You barely noticed the van making a sharp turn, the engine going silent half a minute later and drawing your attention to the front, a rest stop sign shining through the windshield. Wooyoung’s head poked through the gap between the seats, his eyes glazed over as he took in the sweaty bodies sprawled out in their own mess. He lifted his arm to hurl a roll of cash at San, his eyes remaining fixed on your twitching form as he imagined the steady stream of cum making its way down your thighs.

“Sannie, go grab some food and water. I think I need to be thanked a little more.”

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[teapartyprincess4two]

your writing is sooo good! i NEED a johnnie smut omg please write one💞

Monster- J. Guilbert

pairing: Extrovert!reader x Shy!Johnnie

classification: SMUT w/ a plot

inspiration: request^^, Monster by Lady Gaga

warnings: 18+, MDNI, literal sex, use of y/n, dom!Johnnie (kinda), “slut,” alcohol use, slight cursing, Jake and Tara are dating in this

summary: Tara plays matchmaker, earning Johnnie the night of his life with you in a bar restroom.

—

Johnnie’s been watching you all night, but he’s waiting for the alcohol to settle into his bloodstream before he finally walks up to you. You sit at the bar in a black, backless dress that allows a few of your tattoos to peak through. Bouncy curls are swept onto your shoulder, framing one side of your face as you chat with the bartender.

“Gonna keep staring or are you finally gonna make a move?” Jake nudges Johnnie’s shoulder.

Nights out like this are common for the pair, especially when living a fast paced life in the city of Los Angeles. When they’re not filming or editing, they’re usually out getting drunk, and they’ve managed to creat regular rotation of bars.

Today they find themselves at the Magic 8 Ball, the least crowded bar in L.A on a Friday night. No matter what unfamiliar faces that fill this place, though, yours is always constant. Every Friday, without fail, you saunter in and take a seat at the bar.

Johnnie can tell, just from watching you, that you’re an extrovert. You never seem to stay at the bar, you always wander onto the dance floor and lure a random stranger in for a quick bop around the room.

That’s what intimidates him, because as an introvert he’s not sure he’ll be able to keep up.

“I’m not staring,” Johnnie quips quickly, taking a swig of whatever alcoholic mixture swirls in his glass. He hisses as the liquid goes down.

If it were just Jake and Johnnie, the conversation would’ve died there. But tonight Tara joined them and she isn’t so adamant on letting the topic go.

“You should invite her to sit with us! You never know what could happen,” she prods teasing fingers into Johnnie’s sides, “plus she looks nice! I need a girlfriend to hang out with!”

“Johnnie needs a girlfriend, Tara. Not you,” Jake jokes. Johnnie rolls is eyes, scooting away from Tara as her fingers continue digging into his sides.

“I’ve had a girlfriend,” Johnnie replies, eyes darting back to where you sit at the bar.

“Yeah, had,” Jake says.

“It’s just hard to—“

“ALRIGHT! Enough!” Tara interrupts Johnnie mid sentence, slamming her hands onto the table as she stands up. “If you won’t make a move, I will,” she says, shimmying out of the booth.

Johnnie’s eyes are blown open in shock. He tries grabbing Tara before she can get too far, but she’s small and sneaky.

“That’s one way to do it,” Jake laughs, watching in amusement as his girlfriend does what his best friend doesn’t have the balls to do.

Johnnie, on the other hand, watches in horror.

There you are, sipping on your drink and chatting with the bartender, blissfully unaware of Tara’s approaching figure.

Tara sits at the bar, taking the seat directly next to yours. She interrupts your conversation with the bartender to order two drinks, one for you and one for her, before swiftly turning her attention to you with a warm smile.

Johnnie can’t bear to watch, but he also can’t look away.

You seem to like Tara, because you’re quick to engage in conversation with her. In the matter of seconds Tara has managed to learn your name, your favorite drink, and even your favorite song (it’s the one that plays over the club speakers).

“Oh God they’re coming,” Johnnie whisper shouts, trying to look casual. Tara’s arm is looped with yours as she leads you to their table, an accomplished look painting her face.

“What the fuck do I do? What the fuck do I do?! Fuck!”

“Just act casual. Don’t be weird— Oh fuck! Just shut up!” for some reason Jake finds himself just as nervous as Johnnie. Maybe he was just being empathetic, but they both scramble to get themselves together.

“Don’t be weird? What the fuck does that—”

Johnnie can’t seem to catch a break, because as soon as Tara reaches the booth she’s interrupting him. “Guys. This is Y/n, my new friend,” she gestures towards you, “Y/n, this is my boyfriend Jake and this is our friend Johnnie.”

The moment Tara says your name it’s engraved in Johnnie’s mind. He’s already in love.

Your smile is so big it could light up the room. You extend a hand to the two, immediately introducing yourself and falling into the booth next to Johnnie.

His heart is pounding and his ears are red hot with embarrassment.

“Well, while you two get acquainted, Jake and I are gonna go get drunk,” Tara says, pulling Jake out of the booth before he can get any more comfortable than he already is. She shoots Johnnie a wink before sending you a small wave, leading a confused Jake into the crowd of people.

“She’s nice. I like her,” you comment, watching until the couple disappears. “She’s… something,” Johnnie coughs, he’s so unbelievably awkward.

You chuckle, mostly because you think he’s cute and you find his fiddly personality amusing.

“Johnnie, huh? I had a friend named Johnnie once,” you say, attempting to make conversation. Your manicured nails tap against you glass cup, silver hoop earrings reflecting the strobing lights as you try catching his gaze.

“Bet he didn’t look like this though,” Johnnie replies, clearly referring to his all black attire.

“Hmmm, no. He definitely didn’t,” you giggle. You take a sip from your drink, a lipstick stain remaining once you place the cup back onto the table. Johnnie wonders what it’d feel like to kiss you.

“You’re much cuter,” you continue. Johnnie can’t tell if he’s dreaming, were you actually flirting with him?

Maybe it’s the surge of confidence your compliment gives him, or maybe the alcohol finally kicked in, but Johnnie suddenly finds himself being flirtatious.

“So do you flirt with all the Johnnies you know?”

He’s surprised at how fast you quip back, “Nope. Just the cute ones.”

You’ve subconsciously leaned closer to him, your faces dangerously close.

“Okay, so we’ve established that I’m cute,” he smirks. “What else am I?”

You giggle, a sound that Johnnie swears he can listen to for forever.

“Well clearly you’re not shy anymore,” your finger traces the rim of your drink. A drunk smile and sultry eyes lure him in, pulling him close enough for his lip rings to press against your skin.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he murmurs, a wandering hand finding your thigh. You shiver at the sensation. His fingers were ice cold, but they still managed to ignite a fire deep within your core.

“Like this?” you tease, batting your eyelashes.

You never made it a habit of sleeping with strangers, but Johnnie was the sheep in wolves clothing that played innocent until you were close enough to bite.

“I warned you,” his breath fans against your lips one last time before he’s capturing your lips in a heated kiss. It’s the first kiss Johnnie’s had in years which makes it that much more exciting.

Your plump lips chase his as your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer to you. The club is loud, but you’re so immersed in the man in front of you that you forget you’re not the only two people in the room and lose all control.

Johnnie’s hands find your waist, tugging until you’re straddling his lap. He pulls away breathlessly, silently thanking Tara for working her magic once he sees you on top of him.

Your dress rides up slightly, revealing more of your backside than you’d like. The sight earns you a few whistles from bystanders, breaking you from your lustful daze. “Oh shit,” you squeak, trying to scramble off of Johnnie, but his grip is firm enough to keep you in place.

An animalistic, monster-like need has overtaken him and he’s willing to sacrifice his self image to fuck you in front of all these strangers. But he simultaneously doesn’t want anyone else to see you, to enjoy you, the way he’s about to.

“Restroom. Now,” he growls, pinching the soft skin of your ass. You squeal in excitement, allowing the desires of your flesh to cloud your judgement as you hop off of him and wiggle your way out of the booth. You adjust your dress as you wait for Johnnie to follow before taking his hand in yours and leading him towards the restroom. He makes a mental note to let this be the only time you lead him tonight.

Everyone’s watching, yet you can’t find it in you to feel embarrassed. If anything it excites you more.

You find the restroom quickly, a wave of gratitude washing over you when you realize it’s a single stall. This means you can be as loud as you want, and from the look in Johnnie’s eyes, you can tell you’ll also need the extra room.

He’s quick to lock the door and immediately engulfs your face in his hands, bringing you in for the second heated kiss of the night. Johnnie’s eager and it shows in the way he swipes his tongue across your bottom lip.

His left hand remains on your face while the other travels down to your ass, squeezing firmly against the material of your dress. A moan escapes your lips, providing him the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. He tastes surprisingly sweet, like pomegranate and pineapple.

He leads you to the sink counter, your bodies bouncing back slightly when they hit the cold marble. “Up,” he commands.

You hop onto the counter, giving him enough room to fit between your legs. Johnnie’s erection presses against your inner thigh, but he gives you no time to comment on it before his lips are back on yours.

Johnnie’s hand’s find your boobs, massaging your mounds slowly as he deepens the kiss. “More,” you murmur against the kiss, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him in closer to you. He smirks against your mouth at your neediness.

“So needy.” He pulls your head back, providing him with perfect access to your neck. Sloppy, open mouth kisses trail from your jawline down to your exposed collarbone. Each one gives you goosebumps.

“Fuck me please,” you whimper, feeling your panties become more soaked by the second. “So polite,” he teases, sucking on your skin until it bruises.

The rough material of his jeans comes in contact with your clothed pussy. He dry humps you just to hear the strained moans that escape your lips.

Finally, when you rut back, he decides he’s teased you enough. Your dress is bunched up around your waist, exposing the wet underwear that he pushes to the side.

“So fucking sexy,” he grunts, kneeling in front of you to get a better view. He’s in love. What he wants to do is eat you out, but there’s no time for that in a club as crowded as this. Especially not when there’s only one restroom.

You watch in awe as he presses a quick kiss on your bundle of nerves, immediately licking his lips right after. “Yummy,” he chuckles, bringing you in for another hungry kiss.

Your hands find his belt, unbuckling it with fervor and tugging at his belt loop to bring him back in to you. He gets the message and helps you in unbuttoning his skin-tight jeans. Your forehead is flush against his as you watch his dick spring up, it bobs back and forth as you take in the sheer size.

“Holy fuck,” your voice is full of exasperation. How was that meant to fit inside of you?

Maybe it’s because he hasn’t done this in a long time, but Johnnie suddenly feels self conscious. He hides his face in your neck before you can notice how red it becomes, but you’re quick to push his shoulders back.

“Hey, don’t be embarrassed. Where’d that monster go?” you place a gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth. His dick twitches and cries precum at the reassurance.

He pulls you back in for a kiss, feeling confident once again. He lines himself up tentatively with your entrance, rubbing the tip along your folds before slowly pushing himself in.

Your eyes are screwed shut, small tears forming at the corners as you struggle to adjust to the stretch. “Fuck Johnnie, wait,” you say, pushing against his stomach slightly. Suddenly you’re not sure you want him to fuck you dumb, his size alone was enough to have you seeing stars.

Your words fall on deaf ears, though, and before you know it he’s pushed himself all the way in. You gasp, throwing your head back against the bathroom mirror. Your pussy clenches around him as you try to hold him in place knowing the longer you keep him there, the more time you’ll have to adjust.

It’s no use though, because he begins thrusting into you at a relentless, unforgiving pace. The pain is quickly replaced with pleasure, the tip of his penis kissing your cervix every time his hips slam into yours.

“Fuck you’re so tight,” he grunts, strong hands gripping your waist so he can fuck into you even faster. You whimper at the sensation, his fingers were sure to leave bruises.

“Just like that, Johnnie. So good,” you egg him on, holding onto his neck for support. He hasn’t slowed his pace, instead moving one hand from your hips down to your throbbing clit.

Your legs instinctively push together, but his body moves them back into their previous position as he continues. “Such a slut,” he purrs, watching the euphoric look that paints your face when he rubs his thumb against your sensitive nub.

“Yes! Such a slut,” you’re drunk on dick, babbling whatever will get you closer to your pending release.

“My slut?” he asks, using the hand that was previously gripping your waist to take a firm hold of your face. Your eyes lock with his, taking notice of the way lust clouds his pupils. “All yours,” you whisper.

He smirks, leaning down to kiss you. Your tongues collide in a heated mixture of moans and whimpers. All the while he continues pounding into you and rubbing circles on your clit.

One particularly hard thrust has you dumb, a string of curse words and chants of his name being the only thing you can manage to say. “C’mon baby, c’mon,” he growls, sloppily kissing you as he feels his climax approaching.

“Johnnie!”

Your walls flutter around him, your entire body trembling as your orgasm washes over you.

Your hair falls in front of your face and you find yourself holding Johnnie’s wrist, pushing his hand away as it continues working on your clit. “Almost there,” he moans, pulling his hand away to focus his attention on fucking you.

You’re sensitive. You’re whimpering. You’re so fucked out that it’s overstimulating.

“Cum for me, handsome,” you moan, still coming down from your own high. He continues rutting his hips into you, chasing his release until finally it washes over him.

Hot spurts of cum paint your insides, lazy hips rolling against you. He’s panting from above you, hands falling from your body and latching onto the counter for support.

“Fuck that was… that was amazing,” Johnnie says, pulling out of you reluctantly.

He knows the sooner he pulls out and you two get dressed, the quicker you’ll become strangers. And that’s terrifying.

“You were amazing,” you reply, using your finger to pull his pensive gaze back towards you by his chin.

“Don’t tell me it’s a one and done,” you pout, “I was hoping to have more moments like that.”

Johnnie still stands between your legs, his limp dick resting on your exposed thighs. He lights up at your suggestion. His hands have opted for a much softer hold on your hips, thumbs massaging your skin. He knows he was rough, but he couldn’t help it.

“I mean— I’d like to— we could— fuck I’m so bad at this,” he stutters, suddenly reverting back to his natural, awkward state.

“You’re cute,” you giggle, pecking his nose and hopping off the counter. His ears flush red again.

“How about we get cleaned up and then we’ll worry about the rest later, yeah?”

“Yeah,” a big goofy smile adorns his face. His rosy cheeks make you wanna pinch him and gush over how cute he looks.

“Weren’t you just fucking my brains out a second ago?” you tease, only making him more flustered.

“I’m shy, I can’t help it.”

“Not that shy apparently,” you pull him in for one more kiss.

—

MASTERLIST

a/n: Tara the goat, the best wingwoman ever!

I locked in. Thank you for ur kind words bby, I LUV U!

Enjoy 🎱😜 - L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

—

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[rafeandonlyrafe]

i am a rich man

words: 1k

warnings: misogyny, brief mention of violence, reader is a kook

a/n: im on vacation starting tomorrow monday 1/22-friday so i will not be posting any new fics for this week!

“have you decided what car you want baby?” rafe asks, pressing a kiss to your cheek as you scroll through the dealerships website.

“i’ve narrowed it down to two.” you tilt your phone towards rafe, letting him look at one car before navigating to the other tab to show him.

“why don’t you test drive both and decide after that? and if you like both, just buy both.” rafe shrugs. it was weird for him at first being with someone who had even more money than his family, but now he’s grown used to it, liking knowing you can support yourself if needed, even though rafe likes to buy most things for you.

“good point.” you hum. “i’d have to park one on the driveway though, my dad is only giving me one spot in the garage.” you pout. your dad has a mild obsession with sports cars, and therefore three of the four spots in the garage were already taken.

“lets not worry about it now, figure it out after you see them in person.” rafe says, and you nod, getting up off the couch to head to the dealership, glad that rafe agreed to drive you and test the cars with you, mainly because you didn’t want to spend the day without him.

it’s a long drive to the nearest dealership that had cars in your price range, but you don’t mind as you sing along to your favorite songs playing through rafes trucks speakers, always letting you be the dj even if he can’t stand some of the girly pop songs that you play.

“almost there.” rafe reaches over, squeezing your thigh as the dealership finally comes into view.

“thank god.” you groan. “my butt is starting to go numb.” “don’t talk about your butt when we are about to be in public.” rafe warns, glancing over at you as you giggle.

“sorry baby.” you say, in a voice that tells rafe that you’re not at all sorry.

“let me drop you off at the front, i’ll park the car then join you inside.” rafe says upon pulling in and realizing that there are no close parking spots, and he doesn’t want to make you walk outside for longer than he has to.

“mmkay, thanks baby.” you lean over and press a kiss to his cheek, always extra appreciative and lovey on rafe when he does sweet things for you, even if its just something little.

you hop out of the truck, heading inside the main showroom of the dealership.

“hello, ma’am!” a sales associate instantly hurries over to you. “i’m john, did you have an appointment?” “no, but i’ve checked out your inventory online and i know what i’d like to test drive today.” you say with a fake smile right back, already not liking the condescending attitude that john is giving off.

“alright, well lets take a seat at my desk and you can tell me your budget.” john walks you over to his cubicle, and before he can begin talking you’re joined by rafe.

“this is my boyfriend, he’s helping me pick out a car today.” you say as he sits down next to you, reaching over and looping your fingers through his, already eyeing up john as he tries to size him up.

“hello, sir.” john smiles. “so what is your budget?” he addresses the question at rafe, making your eyebrows scrunch together.

“well,” you answer, making johns gaze flick quickly to you, “budget isn’t an issue. i know what two cars i would like to look at.”

“okay, if you just want to tell me the models i will pull them up.” john turns the computer screen so you all can see as you tell him the two cars that peaked your interest the most.

“and i assume you will be financing?” he hums. you glance at rafe, shocked that he would have the audacity to assume anything.

“no.” rafe answers for you. “in full.” “okay, that makes sense that you will be paying, sir.” john says, nonchalantly as if he didn’t just imply that you wouldn’t be able to afford the car.

“as said before, i will be the one purchasing the car, so while my boyfriend is here to help me, i am your customer.” you clear up, hand squeezing rafes as you try to hold back your anger, knowing you can get just as fired up as him.

“sorry, just don’t see many young women being able to buy cars like these outright.” he says before quickly switching the subject, going through some of the specs of the vehicles. “and the cost on that one is $94,000.”

“wait a minute.” you rub your forehead, getting tired of this mans bullshit. “while i said money was no issue, that doesn’t mean that i’m going to let you get away with scamming me. that car is worth no more than 75.” “well, ma’am, there are various-” “no.” you shake your head. “i have done my research on these vehicles and i know that ever 75 is on the high end.” “let me double check my figures.” john swallows nervously, turning the screen so only he can see it as you send a look at rafe, seeing he’s struggling just as much as you not to reach across the desk and smack the misogynistic sales associate across the face.

“my apologies, i must have accidentally selected an additional maintenance package. it is $74,000.” john says.

“that sounds much more reasonable, but i will not be purchasing a car from someone who tries to scam me out of my money just because they think i’m a dumb girl. get me a different sales associate, now.” you command.

john scurries away from the desk, the stark opposite of the cockiness air that he had when you first arrived.

“jesus, you’re hot when you’re scary.” rafe says, looking you up and down as you smirk at your boyfriend, knowing while you’re usually sickly sweet, when a man irks you wrong, it brings out your full wrath.

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[wemustgatekeepwooyoung]

Crystal clear

synopsis: After trying to comfort him through his sadness for quite a while now you and your best friend ,Jung Wooyoung, let all your sentiments towards one another finally be heard and act on your sexual tension.

Genre: Romance, a bit of angst*, fluff, smut

Pairing: Best friend (non idol) Jung Wooyoung x Fem Reader

Word Count: 4,3k

Content/ warnings: *mentions of Wooyoung’s (made up) post-breakup depressive phase, very sentimental confession (they’re so deeply in love) ,switch wooyoung/fem reader (mostly dom!wooyoung and sub!reader), oral sex(f receiving), orgasm denial,riding, edging, sort of praise kink, dirty talk, conversation mid sex (loooooots of teasing from Woo), pet names (love, dove, darling, pretty…), creampie (use dat condom my loves <3) , aftercare, overall containing both sweet and spicy content to (hopefully) have you fully satisfied.

Author’s notes: I really enjoyed writing this fic tbh. I was never really into writing smut, so tell me how you find it. Sorry for any grammar or vocabulary mistakes, english isn’t my first language </3. Tell me if I missed anything important on the ‘content/warnings’ section!!! I hope you enjoy it as it’s my first time posting :P. ANYWAY, THANKS FOR READING, or if you haven’t read it yet and you intend to, I HOPE YOU ENJOY IT AND THAT I MEET YOUR EXPECTATIONS WELL!!! <3

Wooyoung’s been finding sadness irresistible since he broke up with his girlfriend three months ago. You’ve been trying to find ways to comfort him the best you can but nothing seems to be enough. He keeps saying that it’s not that he misses her, he just misses the feeling of being in love, as his feelings for his ex have been dead for months now.

He would always go hunting for that spark in her but couldn’t do it any longer . He knew the case was all figured out and there was nothing more to do than to push forward and cross the finish line.

So that’s what he did and that’s what lead him, your hyperactively-flirty best friend, to the realisation that he never got over you.

You and him clicked right away when you first met. Although that happened, objectively speaking, it can’t be helped with ‘fresh’ acquaintanships that fear is the most prevalent feeling. So, neither Woo nor you spoke of that matter that you both shared in your heart.

Whatever the occasion, happy or sad, he’d always come to you first to make public. He knew you’d always keep a secret or have the reaction that he’d be expecting. In conclusion, he knew he could always count on you and that you’d be there no matter what. So, of course, when that sickening void started to grow inside him, he knew which door to knock.

You two have been living together since he first came to you after his breakup and have been taking great care of each other. The rest of the boys in your group (Hoongjoong, Seongwha, Yunho, Yeosang, Mingi, San and Jongho) keep giving you weird looks and suspect a confession that will soon take place. They’ve always knew, it’s only you and him that chose to be blind and lost too much time not being together-together already.

Now, you’re just getting back to your lovely apartment right after a really tiring day at work. You love the walk that makes up the distance ,from the office where you work as a secretary, to your house. But today was not a day to relax and enjoy the small things, so even this small rode to your home feels too much.

You put on your AirPods and blasted your favorite playlist that seemed to go by quickly and unrecognized. You’re over here feeling sad for not being able to feel your favorite songs in the slightest, when otherwise you’d be screaming each lyric with amiability.

When you finally reached your doorstep and took a step to the entryway to take your shoes off, you got all your other senses eliminated by the one your nose provided you with. You suddenly did not feel tired at all and all you did was try to figure out what that smell was that made you almost forget your name out of hunger.

The smell lead you smoothly in your apartment and straight to the kitchen. You didn’t even take the time to change into your pijamas or even take off your coat for starters.

“I was about to call you! Did they change your shift schedule again?”

All he did was ask you a simple question. Why did you stutter Y/N? Maybe because of how effortlessly pretty your best friend looks at the moment.

He’s dressed in a black open sleeve t-shirt that compliments his toned veiny arms so well and under that, he’s wearing a grey tracksuit. On top of those, he’s also wearing your dark red apron that your mum had gifted you when you first rented the apartment.

“N-no, I was just disposed to finish extra work till tomorrow morning”

“I see. Did you manage to finish it?” he asked me again as he was untying the red clothing that hugged his beautifully built core.

“Yes I did, I’m too much of a perfectionist to not have been able to finish it on time”

“That’s my girl!” he said and playfully pushed your shoulder

“Whatcha cookin’ at this hour?”

“Oh, this? I made some soup.“

“Is it for me perhaps?”

“No. It’s for my best friend.”

“Oh yeah? San’s coming over?”

“No, she’s working late and I want her to eat something to keep her warm during the night. Y’know it’s pretty cold out there. She’ll be so tired when she gets home that she might even forget to take her coat off!” he playfully put on a play to enlighten your tense mood from working too hard and to remind you to get properly undressed

You laughed and walked over to your coatstand where you placed your coat apathetically.

“OH MY DEAR Y/N YOU’RE BACK” he said and rushed over to you, hugging your waist tightly

“Play’s over?”

“I just wanted to find out if you’d take your coat off or intended to sleep with it so i’d take it off of you.”

Was he jokingly flirting again or was he genuinely scared that you’d sleep with it? What the fuck? He’s cooking you a meal at 2 a.m, he’s back to being a flirty-hyperactive comedian AND he seems to be… Excited. You haven’t seen him being him for over a month now, three months to be exact, but it just feels so natural and soft that it calms you down. Now, ‘desperately bored and tired Wooyoung’ is long gone in your head, like he never even existed to begin with.

You chuckled after his words and he looked at you all weirded out. You caressed his arm and back hugged him as he was stirring the soup with the ladle.

“Are you okay little one?”

“I’m better than okay. Are you okay?”

“I’m just fine” he said proudly and smiled. “It’s ready! Go take a shower and get changed, your food’s waiting” he stated and started preparing the vital items on your late night dinner table.

After doing as he said, you came back smelling all sweet and sat down right in front of the bowl that contained your meal.

You two are opposites in everything, even in the way you’re sitting right now. He’s energetic while you’re like a bored ass figure, he’s calm and active on excitement while you’re stressed and strategically active, he’s clumsy and a talker while you’re organised and a listener. Though all those small details making you so different from one another, you two match so well like peanut butter and jelly. It’s not everyone’s favourite combination but nobody can deny it’s power.

“Soup’s so good Wooyo” you said almost moaning to the feeling of finally getting to eat something after such a full and tiring day.

“Right? I looked the recipe up, I wanted to make you something well deserved, something special”

And it happened again. All he did was this thoughtful gesture, yet it had your insides start to soften in a way they didn’t just an hour ago when you needed it.

This man brings all your sentiments to the surface and accepts them as they are. He accepts and loves you for exactly the woman you are and that’s something so rare that you can’t help but not want to set aside as you’ve been trying to do for so long.

“What’s messing you up in there?” he asked and pressed his pointer finger lightly on your forehead

“It’s just that you’re so sweetly taking care of me. I’m so happy and glad you’re doing okay again” you confirmed your feelings out loud and he gifted you with a gentle kiss on your cheek

“Thank you for being patient with me and I’m not just making point for this time alone. You’ve always been here and I couldn’t appreciate you more. It’s the least I could do, cook you a meal. I’m leaving tomorrow anyway-“

“What? You found an apartment so quickly?!”

“Yeah, I wasn’t sure about it, that’s why I didn’t tell you anything”

“Sure, whatever pleases you” you responded with your heart broken and with actually wanting to hold onto him so that he never leaves your side.

“Are you-“

“Don’t leave me Wooyoung” you surprised yourself by saying that. You’re uncontrollable with this guy, everything seems to come out of you so naturally and that’s because you know he has the biggest soft spot for you. His heart started beating even faster now, after your boldness hit him right into his feelings.

He placed his hand on yours on the table and leaned towards you. Your heart skipped a beat when he stopped right before you and cupped your face.

“I’m not leaving town! I’ll only be two blocks away”

“But you won’t be two meters away”

“Hey, don’t be sad baby, I’ll visit for coffee everyday and we’ll keep in touch of course. You’re never going to lose me anyway, you know I’ll always come back to you”

“Do you mean it?”

“Of course I do silly.”

“Will you sleep with me tonight?”

Wow. Wooyoung was really caught off-guard with that one. He tried not to think about it the way he did but his mind was messing with him. He’s so in love with you that he can’t get enough of you. He’s so obsessed that he’s now considering of not leaving at all.

“Of course I will. Go to bed and I’ll be there in a sec” he said as he indeed needed a second to process everything.

Maybe it was time he told you but he didn’t want things to get weird between you two. All he ever wanted was to be with you after all, not just friends nor friends with benefits, just you and him getting to pursue life differently together.

As he approached your reclined body on your bed, you scooched over a bit so that you made up some space for him. He wrapped his hand around your waist and spooned you after covering you both well with the fluffy pink blanket you love so much. The heat forming between your intertwined bodies started to become intense and it could not be ignored any longer. So, you both simultaneously acted on it.

“So-“ you both said, sharing the same exact thoughts. Chuckles were heard and cute smiles were formed on your faces. He decided to make the first move and speak up.

“Living here with you was something I wanted for quite a while. I wanted to get closer and closer to you and that’s what I still want to do, even after I move out”

“Closer how?”

“Closer in a field that you and I haven’t explored yet.”

“Rightttt…”

“Am I making you uncomfortable dove?”

“No, not at all.”

“Okay then-“

“Go on, I’m quite invested”

“Would you go out with me by any chance?”

“Out as saying ‘out on a date’ ?“

“If it’s a date you want, it’s a date you’ll have.“

“I never said that! I was just asking to clarify what you meant” you blushed

“So you don’t want to go on a date with me?” he made a sad expression, acting dramatic to avoid looking like a fool

“I never said that either” you answered and he raised his head a bit to look at you better with that surprised look he had “I’d like that actually”

He laughed and you started whining at his reaction and hitting him teasingly on his left arm “Why are you laughing at me?! Did I say something weird?”

“No, it’s not you love, it’s me. I’m just trying to cope with the fact that we’re having this conversation.”

“I just hope you mean it”

“What do you mean? Why would I not mean it?”

“Because that’s how you are Wooyo! Being flirty is your nature, how could I be sure that you mean it and that it’s not one of your silly jokes again?”

“Well, I see your point but do you really think I’d risk our friendship ,that’s too important to me, to just mess with you?”

“I dunno…” you said and looked away in embarrassment. He has a great point, why would you defy him so directly? Give the poor boy a minute to pursue you, don’t be that self absorbed and ignore his feelings! He’s trying to make a damn confession for fuck’s sake.

“Should I make it clearer?” he asked after holding your jaw and turning it slightly with his fingers so that you’d face him again, eyes gazing at your lips.

“Crystal clear” you commented giving him the consent he was implicitly asking for.

He smiled as he leaned into you, gently pressing his lips on yours and erasing all your doubts at once. His embrace tightened on your waist and the other hand that was holding your jaw moved down to your neck.

You caressed his arm and broke the kiss to look at his face.

“So pretty” you said and he blushed before connecting your foreheads “How’re you feeling?”

“Me? I feel relieved”

“Relieved? I wasn’t expecting that answer”

“I’ve liked you for too long Wooyoung. Why’d you make me wait so long?”

“I got lost in the way it seems”

“I figured so. I never liked that girl with you, I always wanted it to be me.”

“I always wanted it to be you too- Damn you Y/N! How am I supposed not to sleep with you like this every night now?”

“If you find it hard already then you don’t have to live without it. Instead of moving out, move in with me, totally.”

“I guess I might” he replied and went back to kissing you, wanting to taste every bit of you at that moment.

At this point you two are starting to really enjoy your travel at this new field together. Tongues are battling, each trying to assert dominance. You couldn’t take it anymore, his brattiness. Of course he is ,sexually too, a brat! He thinks he can get away with everything.

Unfortunately, that’s not happening, not with you. You got on top of him and pinned his arms above his head, causing a major shock. You broke the kiss again to look at him just to find him checking you out, his eyes focusing on the part where you made your seat.

“Fuck Y/N”

“You love cursing don’t you? Looks like someone’s not acting mannerly enough”

“I’m just- I dunno, you’re full of surprises, you keep surprising me”

“Oh, let me tell you about it” you implied that you can feel how your ‘surprise’ affected him and to be exact, it has affected you too.

Your panties must be soaked and that’s a realisation that just came across your mind.

While you were stuck in that realisation, he took his chance and turned you over, now him being the one that’s on top.

“Not today love” he said and went on to give you neck kisses that you so adored. “Today’s my turn to tell you about it” he added before starting to suck on the smooth skin in your collarbone area.

You completely melted into his way of showing you his love, placing his marks on his and your favourite spots. Your collarbones, your neck, your upper chest and after taking your shirt off… He’s headed for your nipples.

“They’re perfect” he said in an almost high state. He’s so absorbed in the need to touch you that he forgets to breathe.

“Slow down a b-bit…” you managed to let out and he stopped to look at you

“Are you okay?”

“I’m better than okay. Can you breathe? You’re scaring me” you said and he laughed before placing a soft kiss on your lips

“You’re just so sweet that it makes me want to confirm it further” he complimented and went back to kissing your core. Lowering and lowering and lowering… Till he met the outline of your bottoms. You tried to help him remove them but he slapped your hands away so that he’d do it himself. That’s so Wooyoung of Wooyoung.

Once he caught a glimpse of your underwear, his tongue instinctively stuck out a bit and he brushed his hair backwards.

“Well well well… I guess you got excited too didn’t you?”

“Stop teasing me like that!”

“C’mon! You know it’s my favourite from past conversations… Won’t you do me the favour?” he said as he traced his fingers up your clothed pussy , then removed your underwear and threw it on the floor with a quick gesture “Let all your excitement out for me baby, I need to hear you” he notified before starting to rub circles on your already aroused clit with his thumb.

His fingers are long and slim so being touched by him feels better than you could ever imagine. You have in fact imagined it, many times. But this, this felt like heaven compared to your own imaginary productions. The combination of him being between your thighs, touching you and not being able to withhold himself has you starting to tremble. Or maybe it’s because his tongue now stole the job from his thumb. Maybe he really did want to find out if you were sweet elsewhere too.

He’s so focused in eating you out that anyone could tell how much he wants to make you feel good. And dare one say, he’s doing a great job…

“I’m almost there-“ you informed in a high pitched voice, back arching a bit, all to be left back only with your lust and full of desperation. No orgasm was brought to the table for you.

“Fuck, Woo why’d you have to-…” you cursed almost crying out in disappointment

“Because… We need to make our first time special, right?” he said and made you turn over, now laying on your stomach while he’s massaging your bare ass. “Wow…” he said and made you laugh through your embarrassment once again.

He laid a smack on both your ass cheeks and you moaned into your pillow, drunk in your own tears from your previous unfulfillment. He then grabbed your hair to get you to stop covering yourself.

“Why’re you hiding from me? If you want me to stop my love then I will.”

You found it confusing how he’s so filthy with his ways but so comforting with his words. It’s the perfect combination you seeked for and it being provided to you from him makes it even more perfect.

“Do I look like I want to stop or hide? I’m completely naked and moaning after my best friend of eight years”

“Hm. Would a friend really make you tremble like that?”

“What do you mean?” you said poorly as he quickly put two fingers inside you and started finger-fucking you

“Am I your friend, Y/N?”

“What do you want to be?” you said, your voice trembling with every quick movement

“It’s not about what I want. It’s about facts. What am I to you?”

“Okay then, I’m neither hiding nor want to stop being fucked by my best friend and boyfriend. Is that what you wanted to hear?” you said after holding onto his arm so he’d stop momentarily for you to make your point

“It’s all I ever wanted to hear” he admitted and you immediately snapped your lips together, needing him now more than you ever have.

Jung Wooyoung, your best friend, is now your boyfriend. After all these years of hiding in your own shell, you can finally let loose and turn all your fantasies into reality.

You continued by getting your hands under his tshirt, caressing his beautifully built body. He then took it off in a quick motion, leaning back a bit making his abs tighten. You took your chance and helped him by clinging onto his grey sweatpants while looking into his eyes.

He took the hint and finally let you do your thing. You removed them and left him with his boxers alone. You slowly pushed him to lay him back on his back while you got on top of him, almost crawling. You took your seat again as you also took the hint earlier that he’d totally love a ride. You passionately rinded on him and all he could do was grab your hips and squeeze them to how he wanted you the most. You’re making him go crazy with how bold you are and that’s a topic that’s getting him really turned on.

He was used to that specific picture of you in his mind being the closed up one, the more morally minded one and the more intelligent kind. It excites him how all these are also seen in sex with you. You seem like you know exactly what you’re doing so he can just give and take the exact pleasure he knows you both need. And even better that it’s you giving him that pleasure. What’s more appealing to him than doing sexual things with his hot and intelligent girlfriend that he loves so much anyway?

“I need you Y/N, please”

“Then go on and have me” you gave him permission and his eyes lit up. He took his chance and removed his underwear. You tried to touch him but he put your hands together behind your back to give you the message that once you’re to have him, you’re to have him submissively and whole. At least that goes for today.

You smiled and lifted your hips a bit to help him enter you. The feeling of being stretched is already overwhelming but him starting to thrust into you right away made you see stars. He has been holding on to this hardly resistible urge of destroying you since you called him your boyfriend, so now, he can finally let loose.

You didn’t even have the chance to process the feeling, you just had it built up on you, or built in you to be more exact.

“So good” you whined

“Did your previous boyfriend fuck you like that?” he asked you, moaning while thrusting into you roughly from below. Even with you on top of him, he’s still the one controlling the tides.

You answered by shaking your head negatively which unfortunately did not sit right with him.

“What was that? I didn’t quite catch it darling”

“N-no!”

“No? Is that the best you’ve got?”

“He never did it that good! N-not like you Wooyoung”

“That’s right, use your words. Tell me how good it feels” he said and let out a breathless moan before laying another smack on your ass while hitting your gummy spot so good.

“R-right there…”

“You’re so beautiful my love” he whispered breathlessly again in your ear before moving his right hand to your neck, chocking you the way you like it.

“Ah, I love it!“ you managed to say all chocked up seconds before Wooyoung attacked your lips.

You bit on his lower lip, something that reflected your hard on erection and your upcoming orgasm.

“Are you close?”

“Yes, please let me cum this time-“ you said, looking just adorable begging for him to let you finally get your pleasure. He laughed and kissed your cheek before placing his hand on your lower stomach, applying just the pressure you needed.

“Tell me what I want to hear then”

“What is it?”

“Use your pretty brain pretty girl”

“G-give me a hint at least!”

“Three words”

You knew exactly why he was making you do this. He wanted to see how fucked up your mind was in this situation you were, fucked so well and so desperate to cum that you were starting to lose it.

“T-three words?”

“Yes baby, tell me”

“C’mon Wooyoung, stop messing with me! You know I love you”

“You love me?”

“Yes!”

“Okay then tell me” he said and slapped your swollen clit to which you of course had a reaction.

You whined and rolled your eyes, your head fell back and trying to balance it made you dizzy.

“I love you Wooyoung. So much!” you accepted your fate and he smiled before uniting your lips again

“I love you too baby. Let’s cum together yeah?” he said and you shook your head, hugging him and kissing his neck as he pounded fast into you while rubbing your clit again with his thumb

His moans started to get louder and his thrusts sloppier. That didn’t last long though because your insides started to squeeze him as you collapsed on top of him. He tightened his grip on your ass as he filled you up so well that it started to drip on the sweaty purple bedsheets you had changed just this morning.

You both took your time to catch your breaths with him still inside you. You stopped hugging him and placed your hands gently on his bare and sweaty chest to look at his beautiful dizzy face.

He let his head fall back and lay against the wall behind him which revealed the unique marks you had painted on his neck some minutes ago.

“You’re even more stunning all fucked up by me” he said and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear

“So after glow’s a real thing?”

“You’re glowing all the time what do you mean?”

“So you’re saying that you didn’t do a good job?”

“Well, I think the results prove that I did a pretty good job”

“So confident!”

“That was always my specialty”

“I know. And now, as a punishment that you didn’t even let me touch you, you Jung Wooyoung will change the bedsheets”

“If you were so desperate to suck my dick you should’ve just asked for it”

“Are you kidding me? You were the one that pinned my hands behind my back and didn’t even give me the chance to!”

“I know I know I’m just messing with you. I love seeing you flustered, you know that. I’ll change the sheets but first… Do you know what I’ll do first?”

“Please tell me about it, I’m so interested!” you mocked him and he started to tickle you before he grabbed and held you bridal-style

“First I’ll get you all cleaned up” he said, carried you to the bathroom and gently placed you in the bathtub before going in behind you himself “We’ve got our first official date as a couple tomorrow after all, don’t we?” he implied and started setting up the right temperature for your relaxing aftercare showering session.

[uravitsy]

‘YOUNG AND BEAUTIFUL’ SATORU GOJO

ACT ONE.

summary. gojo visits your grave once a year, reflecting on the limited time he had with you while going through the stages of grief. ☆

warnings. angst, sad!gojo, fem!reader! gojo x you, grief, established relationship, some smut if you squint, bittersweet ending

a/n. this is a short story i wrote over the summer, i wanted to dabble into the idea of gojo not being able to fully process his grief without the help of his students. it is a bit sad though.

ACT TWO : ̗̀➛ ACT THREE : ̗̀➛ FINALE

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪

"Does Gojo-sensei seem…different today?" Itadori asked absentmindedly, leaning back in his chair while balancing a pencil on his nose. He was doing everything else but the work he was supposed to finish before class ended. His two close friends, Megumi and Nobara, spared him a quick glance, as if debating whether to answer his ridiculous question.

"When is that nutjob ever okay?" Nobara bounced back another question, making Itadori stop balancing himself on his chair to think for once. The pencil he had on his face clattered onto the ground. "If anything, he's more extra than he was yesterday."

"Exactly," Itadori frowned, the invisible lightbulb above his head continuing to flicker as he thought long and hard about what Gojo could be upset about. He knew it was a stretch, and he himself wasn't too good at reading emotions, but he was sure something was off—from the way Gojo's smile seemed wider to the way his laughs went on for a second too long. "What do you think, Megumi?"

The black-haired boy stopped moving his pencil across the paper. His face remained stoic as the two beside him turned to look in his direction, anticipating an answer from him.

In short, Megumi did know why Gojo seemed off today, and it was all because of his vague memory of you.

He was a clueless child back then, but he felt it. He felt the love you and Gojo shared, something he had seen before between his own mother and father. It was strong, beautiful, like a song that only you and Gojo knew the lyrics to. It was a dance—a slow burn into the spotlight of a world you two created.

He admired it. He admired you and the person you helped Gojo become.

And though your memory was beautiful, it was also tragic. Megumi did mourn you since he remembered bits and pieces of you, but he was sure Gojo mourned you the most. Especially since today was the anniversary of your death. For as long as he's known Gojo, he knew that this one day out of the year was the time when he'd crack more jokes, tease him more, and laugh the loudest—all to mask his pain.

And he couldn't help but think it's because Gojo never properly grieved for you.

"He's the same as usual," Megumi lied. It wasn't their place to know, nor was it his. Everyone had their secrets and the stuff they keep to themselves. Who were they to pry into his business? "You guys should just drop it."

And with that, he went back to his assignment, ignoring the gawking stares from both of his friends.

"Well, now I'm even more curious," Itadori pouted, resting his chin on his hand as he looked out the window just in time to see Gojo's back as he skipped off campus. "He's literally leaving in the middle of the day!"

"Itadori—" Megumi started but got interrupted by his friends' loud voices.

"What?!" Nobara pushed Itadori away from the window so she could look. A sudden spark of curiosity consumed her as she cracked a mischievous grin. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

"We should follow him!" they both said at the same time as they rushed out of the classroom with such speed they left papers flying behind them.

Megumi could only sigh. His peers were likely to get in trouble and drag him into their mess somehow. It never fails. He thought for a moment about how he would benefit from following them to make sure they didn't get caught leaving school grounds without a teacher, but he came up with nothing. He figured he should take his own advice and mind his own business, let those two knuckleheads do whatever they want and suffer the consequences for it.

They could potentially run into dangerous curses, dangerous people, or dangerous people controlling dangerous curses… and then suffer grave injuries. You know what? Maybe he should follow them from a distance.

Meanwhile, the door to the flower shop gave a soft ding as Gojo opened it. His tall frame took up the space in the small shop. Gojo ducked his head as he came in, careful not to knock over the potted plants that rested on the floor and shelves in no particular order. The air was stale with an earthy smell that was oddly comforting. It was good to know that the place remained the same after a year—the only thing that stayed the same in his chaotic life.

"Satoru!" an elderly woman looked up from her newspaper at the sound of the doorbell, thick circle glasses making her eyes appear large and almost fish-like. "Good to see you! How have you been?"

"Mrs. Yamada," Gojo bowed respectfully to the elder, to which the lady playfully pinched and pulled his cheeks. "Missed you too!"

"You silly boy, you know you can visit anytime and not just once a year, you know (Y/N) would've loved that, hm?" Mrs. Yamada made her way behind the counter, already grabbing and wrapping up a single flower. A flower that was your favorite, the same kind you'd always get whenever you would come into this small flower shop.

Gojo never understood why you didn't let him buy a whole bouquet of the flowers you loved. "Then I'd have to take care of all of them," you'd say, your laugh like a sweet melody in his ears that he constantly wanted to replay. "When it's just one, I feel like it lasts longer, you know? I seem to appreciate it more."

The memory made him frown slightly. If you allowed it, he would've bought the whole damn store for you, and you wouldn't just be stuck with a single flower. He didn't get it. He didn't get you. Even after all these years, he was still trying to figure you out.

"Ah, she used to come in every Sunday morning to say hello," Mrs. Yamada smiled warmly. "Always ready to hound me for something sweet to eat. (Y/N) had a nose like a hound and a stomach like a sumo wrestler." The brown wrapping paper crinkled against the elder's fingertips as she folded it around the flower. "Oh, how I miss her."

"Come now, Mrs. Yamada," Gojo leaned against the counter, tapping the wood with excitement. "She'd want us to smile, to celebrate her life, right?! Then that's exactly what we'll do."

"Satoru…"

Gojo waved his hands dismissively. "The usual price for the flowers, right?"

"Yes," Mrs. Yamada rang him up at the cash register before sliding the flower across the counter toward him. But before Gojo could grab it, she pulled it away. "I wanted to tell you before I closed up shop for the day, but… I will be retiring next month."

Gojo's smile fell then.

"I am getting too old, and ever since my husband's passing, I find it quite hard to manage this all on my own, no matter how much I love to do so," she patted the counter lightly, eyes glazed over in a daze as if recalling a memory. "I will be closing the shop and moving to America to stay with my daughter."

"Then are you going to sell the building?"

Gojo found himself asking before he could even think about what to say.

"I'll buy it."

Even in death, you were expensive. How was that possible? Gojo found himself using his savings to buy a whole flower shop that you weren't even here to see. But did that matter to him? Of course not. You were worth every penny—and the shop, to him, was nothing more than a shiny penny that he could buy for your sake. All because you loved it and would visit it often. Gojo couldn't let it close down; it was too valuable for the sake of the memories it held.

So now he owned a flower shop. What the hell was he going to do with a flower shop? He didn't know a damn thing about flowers.

"(Y/N)…" Gojo whispered your name as he pushed open the metal graveyard gate, the bolt making a loud creaking noise that echoed into the summer breeze.

It didn't take Gojo long to find your headstone. After all these years, he knew this cemetery like the back of his hand; at this point, it was like a second home to him. The only place where he could truly let the mask fall as he mourned for you.

In the years you've been gone, he had a long time to think—to wonder why you of all people had to be taken away from him. It made him question, curse, and cry to a higher power above if there was one. Would they be listening? Did they hear him? Did they understand the pain he was put through? And if everything was a part of the higher power's plan, then why was (Y/N) written in with such a tragic story? Why did her life become a song of such somber music?

It wasn't fair. And to Gojo, he would never make sense of it, no matter how hard he tried.

"Ah, it's a beautiful day, (Y/N)." Gojo smiled warmly at your headstone before sitting on the smooth tile, rummaging through his bag to pull out a rag so he could wipe the dust that was on top of your engraved name. "Though I bet you're complaining about how hot it is. I know, it is a little toasty, but a beautiful day nonetheless."

Wiping the concrete clean, Gojo made sure it was spotless with all the cleaning supplies he brought. He had to make up for the year he was away; that's why he always deep-cleaned your headstone since he knew he wouldn't be back until next year. He wanted you to watch the seasons go by with a pretty headstone, one that sparkled whenever the sun cast its rays on it.

"Hm?" Gojo tilted his head as if to hear your unspoken question again. "Oh! I'm doing good. Still teaching. You'd love these lot of kids, though. They have such great potential and are such a reckless bunch who enjoy escaping off campus to follow me here."

"Crap! He's onto us." Gojo heard Nobara's voice from the bushes behind him.

"Do you think he knows?" Itadori asked in his typically clueless fashion.

"He knows, dumbass." Megumi sighed before emerging from the bushes with twiddledee and twiddledumb trailing behind him. Their bantering stopped once they saw Gojo sitting by your headstone, the air suddenly becoming still as they made their way closer.

"Gojo-sensei, we can explain—!"

"Don't even," the white-haired man laughed before gesturing toward the headstone. "(Y/N), meet my students. Students, meet (Y/N)!"

"Ah! Nice to meet you!" Itadori bowed in respect, and so did Megumi.

"Why are we bowing to a dead—" Grabbing ahold of Nobara's hand, Itadori forcibly pulled her down so she could bow as well.

"Oh, you kids are in so much trouble," Gojo said with a gleeful smile. "I'm already thinking of all the ways to punish you."

"In my defense," Megumi started, "I tried to stop them."

"Yetttttt you're still here." Tilting his head, Gojo looked at his students playfully. "I hope you all enjoyed this field trip, but let's head back to campus, yeah? And get ice cream along the way!"

"Oh! Ice cream!" Itadori and Nobara spun around in a dance as they made their way toward the entrance of the cemetery, the pair just finding it best not to question who you were or what you were to Gojo. They could finally sense what Itadori was talking about that morning. He was different today, and it was clear he was sad. "La la la la la!"

"Let's go, Megumi. Do you still prefer chocolate?" Gojo turned to walk away but stopped in his tracks when he noticed Megumi staring at your grave with an expression he couldn't read. "Megumi?"

"Gojo-sensei…" His student turned to look at him. "I just want you to know that it's okay to be sad, to grieve for her."

Gojo chuckled, tucking his hand in his pocket as a breeze cut through the air, its chilled warmth wrapping around the pair. "Who's to say I don't? I grieve her every day."

URAVITSY 2024

[lafrexniere]

It was and is You - CL16 - part 1.

Note: First of an idea I had after Monza today, and didn't realize how long this would end up so it's going to be in three parts!

You had just gotten back from a run, feeling messages vibrating on your watch the whole time. When you arrived to the front of your apartment building you took a breath before stepping inside and looking through your phone. It was your three best friends in your group chat together discussing some vacation plan for you four to go on. 

Mila: We have to do this pleaseeeee

Allie: Italy sounds fun

Liv: Okay I’m in, where’s Y/N

There was some discussion about seeing some sporting event in Italy, and if Mila was organizing it was definitely racing. It was offseason for the four of you, and training was getting a little exhausting, the four of you needed a nice break from running, cycling and swimming in Switzerland, and it wasn’t skiing season. You had exhausted all of your summer activities. 

You: I’m going, definitely!

The four of you got on a call and booked your hotel rooms, and figured out splitting up the cost of the rental car and tickets for the weekend. It was Wednesday and you had to be there by Friday. You planned to leave tomorrow afternoon and arrive at the Hotel thursday night, you would split up the driving between you and Liv as you two were the ones not as into this F1 thing.

Thursday morning came and the four of you met at the rental car center. 

“Ahh there you are!” Mila exclaimed, pulling you all into one big group hug.

“To Monza!” Allie shouted throwing her fist in the air. You and Liv laughed at their excitement.

“I brought you two something,” she grinned at you and Liv. She pulled two red hats out of her purse and handed one to both of you.

“You both packed red right?” Allie said sternly.

“Yes of course,” you nodded.

“Yeah we got your thousand messages,” Liv rolled her eyes. The four of you explored the parking lot finding your car and loading it up with your bags.

“Do you want first shift?” Liv asked you.

“They are gonna be screaming the whole way either way, but sure” you smiled. You hopped in the car plugging the address of the hotel you had booked into the GPS system and were on your way. After a long way of driving hearing blah blah blah with the occasional giggle and squeal it was finally your turn to take a break and not get distracted by the stuff going on in the backseat. 

“So this whole race thing, why is it three days?” you asked. You shouldn’t have asked because it became a whole big long talk, you heard this and that about this person and a lot of mentions of Ferrari.

“Oh Y/N you are going to love it!” Allie said. 

“Sounds fun,” you said putting the hat you were given on. 

“And that’s where it stays,” said Mila cheering. You four continued the rest of your ride and finally after many karaoke songs later you had finally arrived at the Hotel. You four had gone up to your respective rooms and spent the night hanging out in Mila and Allie’s room. They were trying their best to educate you on the race and what was going to be happening during the weekend. You would be seeing a practice, qualifying, and the actual race itself. It was pretty easy to follow along with the more they explained, you even thought you would be able to talk about someone with it if they asked you, however you still knew nothing about the specific race or Ferrari. It was getting late and you and Liv went to your room.

Friday

You woke up early the next morning, before Liv, before Mila or Allie. You went to the elevator and went down to the lobby to get some coffee to clear your early morning headache. You were alone, somewhat sleepy in the elevator when it dinged and stopped. A man joined you in the elevator, there was something familiar about him. You exchanged a smile noticing that he was your type. You two stood awkwardly in the elevator until he broke the silence. 

“Nice hat,” he said.

“Oh thank you, it’s Ferrari,” you smiled before realizing the same logo was on his shirt, “sorry you know that already,” you laughed.

“You going to the race?” he asked.

“Yeah, it’s my first one, can you tell?”

“Maybe,” he laughed. 

“My friends pulled me into it for this weekend,”

“Well I’m sure you’ll have fun.” The elevator dinged and you were in the lobby. 

“Are you going too?” you said walking out beside him. He nodded.

“I’m getting coffee do you want one,” he asked.

“Sure,” the two of you sat down, he pulled the shirt he was holding on over his other shirt, and putting the hat he was carrying on as well. 

“What’s that for?” you asked.

“Oh nothing, maybe you’ll see?” he smiled. He began asking you some questions about yourself, but when you asked about him he gave vague answers.You knew one thing, his name, Charles. He realized the time and had to go after your conversation.

“Will I see you at practice today?” you smiled.

“Definitely,” he said rushing out of the hotel. You waved with a half smile at his abrupt leaving. You had felt that there was at least a little chemistry, but were also attracted to the mystery of him. You finished your cup of coffee and headed back up to your room, finding Liv, Mila, and Allie all waiting. 

“There you are Y/N, I was worried you had wandered off,” Liv said as you got back.

“Aww your wearing your hat, good,” Mila said.

“We would have been able to find you,” Allie said. 

“Relax I was just getting some coffee with this guy I met in the elevator,” you shrugged trying to pass it off as nothing.

“Guy, what guy?” Liv asked, as you began getting bombarded with a million questions that you couldn’t answer, you could only give his name. 

“No way, like Charles Leclerc,” Mila squealed.

“Who?” You asked.

“Oh my god you’ll see today, he’s so dreamy, Y/N if it was him you have to tell us, we have to meet him,” Allie chimed in.

“Omg stop, there gonna be delusional now,” Liv laughed. The four of you continued getting ready sporting your red hats. You had chosen a black skirt with a white tube top, and a sweatshirt just incase there was a breeze. The four of you were all somewhat matching and were off on your way to the track. You found your seats and there was cheering surrounding you as different drivers came on and off the track. There were screens lighting up showing you the parts of the track you couldn’t see from their seats.

“Wow they are fast, they didn’t look this fast in the videos,” Liv yelled over all the noise.

“Isn’t it cool,” Mila yelled back. You all nodded and tried your best to communicate with eachother. Practice had finished and you and your friends rushed down to some spot where you could possibly see the drivers. Mila and Allie wanted their hats signed. As drivers started rolling out you saw him, the same brooding eyes and dark hair from the morning, he noticed you in the crowd smiling at your screaming friends through the fence, Liv even took her hat off and started waiving it at him when she saw him. He came over and signed the three hats, asking Mila,

“Come on your friend doesn’t want her hat signed,” he smiled at you. You thought she was going to faint after he talked to her.

“Come on Y/N, hand it over,” she yelled at you. You took your hat off and handed it to Charles through the fence. Within a second he was done signing there’s but yours he took a bit longer on. He handed the hat back to you and winked.

“See you tomorrow - CL16” was written on the hat followed by a phone number. Your friends swarmed you trying to get a glimpse of what was on your hat, but you hid it quickly until you got back to the hotel. 

“Y/N Please,” they all begged and pleaded.

“Fine, but none of you can take the number,” you gave a strong look.

“Number?” Mila screamed. You turned the hat to show them what was written filling all of them with shock. You quickly turned it back after it had been almost enough time for them to memorize the number. 

“So are you getting coffee again,” Allie asked.

“I don’t know, honestly, but now I know why he was being so secretive,” you shrugged.

“Well you have to text him now,” Liv nudged you.

“I know I know,” you said hitting the air, to brush it off. The two of you talked about this the rest of your night, but made sure to kept your voices down in public. As the day was coming to a close you sent him a message

You: Coffee again?

Charles: Same time?

You: Perfect

Charles: It’s a date 😊

You drifted off to sleep smiling about what was waiting ahead of you the next day.

[merakiui]

monops's reflection.

yandere!jade leech x (female) reader x floyd leech cw: yandere, nsfw, non-con, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, stalking, unrequited love, obsession, drugging, kidnapping/captivity, restraints, dark/possessive/violent thoughts, biting, blood, characters written as 18+ note - happy birthday, tweels!!! :D may you continue to be crazy.

Mostro Lounge is tranquil tonight, save for the occasional clinking of glass against glass and the soft melodies tumbling from your lips. You busy yourself with song while you wipe the surface of a table, bending forwards to reach the very back with the dampened rag. Jade finds himself eyeing your figure as you flit about, observing the way you wring the cloth free of excess water, your fingers curling into the sodden fabric as if attempting to strangle it. And then it’s promptly dunked into the bucket and wrung out again in repetition. He stands behind the counter and continues to dry the same glass he started on two minutes ago, its shiny surface reflecting his distracted countenance.

There’s something curious about you.

He can’t quite put his finger on what that something is. The more he analyzes you, the further he strays from a proper interpretation of your character. For a human who can’t use magic, you’re surprisingly selfless. You cheer your friends on in their academic endeavors, offering them your help whenever it feels like they might need it, and you carry your own weight at the lounge, boldly standing up to patrons who get too big for their britches. Jade wanted to pity you in the beginning, when customers had been rough and rude with you, but you’d dealt with every difficulty with a bright grin and a few choice words.

You’re strong; you never back down.

Jade sets the glass in its rightful place and reaches for another, all while keeping his mismatched stare on you. He wonders how much pressure it would take for you to finally snap. Would you still be able to smile then? Could you even manage to stay afloat in pessimistic waters with that blithe façade of yours? If he were to cut into you with knife and fork—with dreadfully sharp words and even sharper actions—would you allow yourself to bleed out? Or would you accept your fate and smile up at him from your porcelain plate, promising him you’ll patch yourself up because it isn’t a big deal?

When you act so cheerful, so blissfully ignorant to the beast who lurks behind, it sets a potent yearning aflame. A yearning to break you well beyond repair. A yearning to take that smile, chew it up, and spit it out until it’s the most devastated frown he’s ever seen.

“Good work today, Jade!” With a breathless huff—he wants to bottle that breath and each one that will follow—you set the bucket down and roll your shoulders. Exhaustion shadows your face, adding deceptive age to your youthful appearance. “Do you need any help?”

“I’m quite all right. Thank you, though.” He returns your smile with one of his own, the usual placid, tight-lipped thing that both eases and unsettles depending on the situation. His default expression, forever the same unless circumstances call for the other faces he’s stowed in his vast repertoire. “You’re more than welcome to head back if you’ve finished for the evening. I can handle the rest.”

“You sure?” The bucket is in your hands again, and you carry it over to the sink to empty the murky water into the basin. He notes the way your arms shake ever so slightly as you struggle to balance the heavy thing against the counter. “I don’t mind waiting here until you’re done.”

“Very well. In that case, I won’t take too long.”

He finishes drying the remaining lineup, arranging each on its respective shelf before wiping the counter for extra measure. He doesn’t have to do it, but he does. It never hurts to be clinically clean.

Floyd should be done with the stock count by now, he thinks, gazing at the door leading to the kitchen. I should check it just in case.

After folding his rag into a neat square and tucking it away, he strides over to the door, opens it a crack, and pokes his head inside. The kitchen space is devoid of life. With furrowed brows, Jade opens the door wider just as Floyd jumps out from his spot behind the racks. He’s holding the clipboard in one hand and flailing with the other. His attempt at a fright does nothing to startle Jade, but it does cause you to flinch back. You do that a lot. Jade’s noticed that you scare easily, often falling victim to Floyd’s pranks during your shifts. It’s all harmless fun, but sometimes Jade catches himself wishing for Floyd to push you just a little harder. A little rougher. Maybe one day he will and Jade will finally witness tears lining your lashes.

“F-Floyd!” you snap, humiliated. 

“Gotcha, Shrimpy. You always fall for it, y’know? Like a silly, stupid Shrimpy.” He passes the clipboard to Jade on his way out and adds, “Pretty sure everything’s correct.”

“Is it?” Jade peers at his brother’s handwriting. “If you don’t mind, I’ll review it once more.”

“Be my guest. Wasn’t really havin’ a ball fillin’ it out anyway.” He shrugs and then beelines for you, lifting you into the air with ease. He spins you despite your protests. Nasally laughter soon overtakes silence. Floyd has always been fond of your reactions; he eats them up as if it’s a special treat. “I wonder if you’ll get sick. You get motion sickness, Shrimpy? Tell me! Tell me!”

A covert smile stretches onto Jade’s mouth as he disappears into the kitchen, the door swinging shut behind him. While he goes over the numbers and corrects the errors Floyd’s made, he listens to you pleading with his brother to release you. Most of the numbers align with the remaining supplies and ingredients, and he adds his own notes in the margins so that Azul will know which are especially low and in need of replenishment. Checking his brother’s work isn’t a favorite pastime of Jade’s, but when it comes to the lounge and its success he’d rather look over a few numbers than watch sales plummet and listen to Azul’s endless slew of woeful complaints.

Once he’s made the necessary changes, he slips the sheet from the clipboard and heads back out. You’re in the process of chasing after Floyd, who’s holding your timecard above his head and dangling it like it’s a piece of bait. Part of Jade wants to enjoy the spectacle, but the other part is ready for the sweetness of sleep. For once he sides with the latter and clears his throat to get Floyd’s attention. 

“Ah, you’re already done?” Having lost interest in the game, he drops your card at once. It flutters to the floor, and he watches with wide, gleeful eyes as you swoop down to catch it. “That all we gotta do?”

“I believe so. Azul’s staying late, so he will lock up.”

Jade sets the inventory sheet on the nearest table for Azul to find before retrieving and filling out his timecard. Floyd hasn’t even marked his hours yet, and Jade exhales an empty sigh and takes the initiative to write it in for him. It’s always been like this. Jade looks out for Floyd, not only because they’re family and have always done so, but because there are some instances where he’s much too careless.

It has been noted that the two of them are a package deal. A duo. A pair. Inseparable twins who balance each other with varying levels of insanity. Their bond is unbreakable, having been built from blood and the will to survive ever since they were vulnerable elvers. Floyd is a reflection of Jade, and Jade is a reflection of Floyd; that’s how they have lived. Like day and night, sugar and salt, and light and dark, they operate like clockwork, expertly in time with one another.

The center of their relationship has always remained the same, and Jade suspects it will never change, even after they’ve acclimated to human society. They are predators with finely honed instincts, masquerading above the water as humans. With razored rows of teeth and an insatiable hunger for unpredictability, the two of them function in a domesticated world. In order to survive in such a foreign environment, Jade has learned that they need each other, which is why it’s so salient that they get along most days.

And much like night and day, like a person with a shadow, one cannot exist without the other.

“See ya tomorrow, Shrimpy!” Floyd flashes you a jovial grin as you take your leave, but there’s a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. “I’ll be waiting…”

“Um, yeah… H-Have a good night.”

With your timecard now in Jade’s capable hands, he’s free to observe your handwriting. There’s nothing special about the way you write, but it still manages to mesmerize him. Every loop of each letter, messily intertwining like frayed strings of fate, adds charm to the script. It’s obvious you tried and failed to sign your name in cursive, but the fact that you even bothered to do so is cute.

It’s truly not that important, he reminds himself as he places the cards back where they belong.

“Shall we head back now?”

Floyd nods, stifling a yawn. As they walk through peaceful halls, he adds in a conversational tone, “Awfully boring when Shrimpy’s not around.”

Jade weighs that declaration and finds himself nodding in agreement. “Yes, I suppose it is.”

i. on a moonlit night, under an eave of twinkling stars, monops waltzes gracefully with the ghost of his other half. the shards of a shattered mirror reflect two sides of the same coin, of human and monster. when the clouds part and an ethereal beam encases the solitary monops, the illusion melts away into a fleeting dream.

Floyd is everything Jade is not: energetic, extroverted, and brash. Such adjectives can’t possibly describe Jade’s outward demeanor—the one he carefully orchestrates for public consumption. He’s polite and kind, soft-spoken and always wearing a smile despite the situation. He cloaks himself in a many-layered mask—a perfect predator with multiple disguises at his disposal. If he must shed a dozen skins to uphold his gentlemanly disposition, then he will gladly peel them away one at a time until he’s found one that fits flawlessly over bone. Jade could never hope to become what Floyd is, but what Floyd is not Jade is. And he is composed of qualities that reflect Floyd’s own behaviors. 

He’s not ashamed to admit what he lacks. This is just a facet of life. You can never truly have everything you want. If the world was fair, everyone would achieve their goals without adversity. Any aspiration, no matter how small and insignificant, requires an adequate fight to be worthy of achievement. Survival is not much of a dream, but it’s the only thing Jade’s ever known as he floats through the world alongside his brother. His dreams are Floyd’s, or so that’s what he’s always told those who enquire. He shares these things with him because he does not have any to call his own.

Not yet, at least.

And sharing—it’s a word he knows well. Everything that Jade owns, Floyd owns as well. They share the same face, the same room, the same clothes. They might even come to share the same lover one day, should they both find their hearts pierced by Cupid’s miserable arrows. Jade has never been against the concept of sharing. It’s an acceptable way of life for him. He grew up practicing the concept, and it has taught him how to coexist with others. Sharing is an extension of the bonds he’s formed.

Still, he’s avaricious in some aspects. Hopelessly so.

There’s no denying the difficulty that arises when one wishes to share in the turbulent waters of the Coral Sea, where the natural order caters to the strong and crushes the weak, but splitting the essentials is what guarantees survival. And if it’s worked so well in the past, why should he stop now? Therefore, sharing will always be a priority, even if their desires are fraught with selfish envy.

Jade is watching you again.

You’re sitting in the courtyard with Azul, gesturing wildly as you recount a story he can’t hear from where he stands behind a stone pillar. Azul’s expression is soft with amusement; his lips quirk up in laughter, and his eyes never leave yours. Your cursive may be a mess and you might be feeble in the face of danger, but you certainly know how to enthrall others. If Jade didn’t know any better, he’d suspect you to be a siren. Night Raven College would be the perfect hunting ground for a predator of that nature. Perhaps once you’ve charmed Azul you’ll devour his heart and leave a streak of gore in your wake.

That’s impossible. 

Jade is certain of this fact because he knows you’re not a predator. You are very much the harmless prey who has wandered into a den of ravenous beasts. He wonders if the thought that Azul may be dangerous ever crosses that empty, pea-sized brain of yours. He’s as much of a hunter as the rest of the students here, and with those eight tentacles of his he could easily send you to a watery grave. You wouldn’t have much of a chance to struggle, not unless Azul’s own benevolence grants you that futile hope. Thinking about it—about the thrill of a one-sided scuffle—has his heart racing, his palms wetting with sweat.

Oh, but you’re not meant to be Azul’s prey.

So get out of his eyes. Step off of the stage that entertains. Untangle yourself from unseen tentacles.

You are Jade’s.

From the moment the two of you crossed paths—from the moment you took up a job at the lounge and relied on him during your training—you belonged to him. 

And he’s not quite sure he wants to share you with anyone.

Perhaps that dumb smile of yours hides something far darker. Perhaps your blood wouldn’t taste as delectable as he once hoped if it’s already been tainted by Azul’s silver tongue. In his own paradise, an ideal world constructed within the confines of his mind, you wouldn’t look at another man, another woman, another person. Not another living thing. You wouldn’t speak to another man, another woman, another person. Not another living thing. You wouldn’t know the tastes of sweet poison or bitter love unless Jade chooses to bestow these flavors unto you. You would only see him, only taste him, only adore him with those wondrous eyes—eyes that are so impossibly strong even when the harshest of insults are thrown your way.

So get the fuck out of Azul’s eyes. Step off of the damned stage that entertains. Untangle yourself from unseen tentacles before Jade slices all of them off at the root.

These feelings ignite a perilous, potent spark deep within his chest. Seeing you smile at Azul in such a casual setting—it’s not right. This terrarium display is wrong. So wrong. 

The internal fuse has been lit and it’s nearing its inevitable implosion. Stop looking at him with those eyes. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.

If Jade could, he would slice your smile off and keep it for himself. Pin it to the wall like it’s a rare species of butterfly, your wings having been severed from the sky.

You’re unbearable.

He fears you wouldn’t belong anywhere in his ideal world, for if you found yourself in the depths of the Coral Sea he wouldn’t allow you to surface.

The most confounding specimen I’ve ever encountered.

Azul is an only child. His mother and step-father would miss him terribly.

— — — 

Jade spies the delightful pep in your step as you skip past the bar later that same day. You’re balancing drinks and desserts on a tray as you make your way to a nearby table, and he’s immediately reminded of why he’s so drawn to you. You’re a puzzle he has yet to solve—an experiment he has yet to collect enough data from. If he could, he’d shrink you down to the size of his index finger and place you in one of his terrariums so that you could live out your tiny life amongst an array of plants. And Jade would be content to observe from above like a godly sovereign with the power to change your fate in a single snap.

Perhaps it’s not right to view you as a specimen or prey. Perhaps it would be better to regard you as a slab of meat, raw and uncooked, just waiting to be snatched up in his maw.

“Please enjoy!”

Your voice pulls him from his reveries. It’s a melody he’s come to savor in solitude. Naturally lilting, it’s the type of voice even the most jealous of souls would covet. He wants to reach deep inside your throat, grasp it for himself, and cradle it to his ear as if it’s a secret-spilling conch.

But claiming ownership of your sound isn’t enough. He wants to—needs to—devour your everything. Your body and soul, marking you as his, ensuring you’re kept under his thumb forever, seared into his own existence like a brand. Then your every breath will be his, and the blood that courses through your veins shall also become his. The darkest of reds might just suit you more than the aquatic hues of Mostro Lounge’s uniform.

Oh, what he’d give to paint you in vinous vermillion.

“Jade, could you cover for me? I’m going to take my break now if that’s okay with you.” Jade must have scanned your hopeful expression for longer than normal because you begin to fidget in front of him, toying with the hem of your apron. “Uh, that’s fine, right?”

“Yes, of course. Go right ahead.” He sends you off with his trademark smile, dusting his destructive thoughts away.

After you’ve retreated to the kitchen, he turns his gaze on the patrons, listening to the noisy din of laughter and chatter. He overhears a group discussing peculiar textbook titles and how most of them are unnecessarily convoluted and complicated. One of the students brings up a title that didn’t make any sense to him and he describes his surprise when he learned it was a book full of love spells and potion recipes. His friends, as all close friends often do, crack jokes at his expense, prodding for more information on who he intends to enchant. The conversation is bland and juvenile, but it does manage to strike a chord of curiosity in Jade.

Love.

Jade has never known the true meaning of romance. Such a thing does not exist in his perfect world. In some lonesome corners of the ocean, merfolk reproduce because they must. Because it’s the only way to survive. It will be like that for him and Floyd in the future, lest they find themselves ensnared in true love’s deadly trap and choose to reproduce for the sole purpose of fickle feelings. To mate out of love rather than obligation—it’s not unheard of and he isn’t opposed to it. Many humans adopt this way of life.

Jade would like to try it for himself, but he doesn’t know how. He’s never known the answer to this question—the one equation he could never work out. Is his heart too small, or is he incapable of comprehending the complexities of romance? Perhaps neither is true. When he considers the requirements that must be met to qualify love as love, he realizes the adoration he feels for you is not fluffy or innocent. Can such a grand obsession be classified as love if it’s dark and spiraling, condemning him to horrific visions? 

Jade does not gaze upon you with fondness. He looks at you as if you’re to be his next meal.

Even when he feels like breaking you would quell some monstrous urge within him, there’s another side that wishes to simply lock you away and protect you from the world and its inhabitants. Because it’s the world that will save you from him, but if you were imprisoned in his world, where it would be just you and him, no one could ever hope to reach you.

Jade isn’t entirely cruel. He would like to share his hobbies with you. He would like to live alongside you in the Coral Sea, tying his life to yours. It’s not an impossible desire, but he knows you wouldn’t be content with this arrangement. Not because it would be unwilling. Not because it would be Jade who has fallen for you and dragged you beneath the waves. It’s precisely because it’s the sea that you might object. You would have to adapt to life in a new, underwater environment. You would have to relinquish certain pleasures unique to the surface, abandoning your bipedal friends and family to live in isolation with him.

But isolation is better than the other terrariums that wait for you. He’ll smash all of them so that you’ll only know this one—the one with him.

Jade has been moving on autopilot for so long now that it finally occurs to him that you’re nowhere to be found. The longer he spends counting the lounge’s staff, the more his observations are proven true. You haven’t returned from your break, which is very unusual considering you’ve always been so diligent about time management. Responsible, that’s what you are. It’s one of the qualities that’s won Azul over. 

He surmises it has also shocked his heart with bolts of not-so-lovely lightning.

Despite the bustling, crowded lounge, he slips inside the kitchen to search for you. Usually Floyd’s crowding around you whenever you have a moment to spare, but he isn’t anywhere in sight either. Jade knows his brother and his mood swings well. When he isn’t feeling the lounge, he’ll escape elsewhere until his mood has been restored. He can understand and overlook Floyd’s absence, but yours is inexcusable.

The chefs are hard at work cooking up delicious meals, and all kinds of savory scents blanket the air. Jade glances at the knife block tucked away in a corner, filled with blades of varying sizes, as he passes. After watching you for so long, he’s learned that you often spend your breaks in the storage room, away from the eyes of customers and Azul. Perhaps the space has become something of a comfort for you, or maybe you just like taking shelter in the kitchen.

A sharp gasp joins the chefs’ clattering.

Jade’s stare snaps towards the storage room door. He frowns when he notices it’s been left ajar.

As he approaches, he can make out the sounds of rustling fabric and salacious gasps. He peers through the sliver into the dimly lit space, a single yellow eye spying a terrible scene. It takes a lot to stun Jade Leech, but the view before him is stunning in a very crooked way. It sends a shockwave rumbling through his body, temporarily freezing him to his spot. Unable to look away, to preserve his eyes and mind, he watches. Every inch of him itches.

Bile claws up his throat with acidic fingers.

You’re pressed against the shelves, skirt hiked high and panties pushed haphazardly to the side. Towering over you, anatomy pinned to yours in a sinful connection, is Floyd. His hands are gripping your wrists as he rocks forward to slot himself deeper inside. You search for a solid hold to steady yourself, burying your head in your arm to muffle your keening cries. 

“Please… It’s… S’too much. Hold on,” you babble, clinging like a koala.

Floyd leans in to nip at the shell of your ear, eliciting a shudder and a squeal from you. “Not happening, Shrimpy…” His lips travel along the length of your neck, pressing playful kisses into your skin. “You’re really so cute, you know that? So cute and soft… I can’t keep my hands off of ya.”

“We really—oh—really shouldn’t do—hah—this!”

Floyd hums, nonchalant, and slowly slides out of your tight, gummy walls. The tip of his cock prods at your pussy once more, glistening with the dew of your essence.

“Why not?”

“Seriously… What if someone sees us? What if—”

Your retort is cut short when he snaps his hips against yours, filling you in a single thrust. You crumple in his arms, tears gathering in your eyes.

Tears. Because of Floyd. Tears.

“So what if they do? I’ll get ’em good if they peep on my Shrimpy.” He licks a stripe up your neck and then sinks his pointed teeth into the area, hard enough to draw blood. You flinch against him, your pretty face contorting with a mixture of pleasure and discomfort while he laps up your blood. Floyd hums merrily, the sound coming deep from within his chest. “Shrimpy always tastes so yummy. I wanna do this aaall the time!”

“Wait, don’t leave any marks!”

“Oops. Too late.” Grinning boyishly, he grabs your chin and tilts your head up to meet his greedy lips. “Lemme kiss it better for ya.”

Jade watches you melt into the kiss, watches you become putty in his twin brother’s hands. Your eyes flutter shut for the briefest moment, only to flash open when Floyd begins to thrust into you. He sets a hasty, sporadic pace as he pursues an orgasmic high. Your sobs are swallowed in sloppy, open-mouthed kisses that leave you breathless and reaching. You claw at anything stable enough to support you, your fingers curling into Floyd.

A perfect fit.

While he stands there and takes in the sight of his brother claiming the angel he had hoped to someday make his, it dawns on him that the entire storage room is stained with the memory of you. Your smell, your existence, your everything—it lingers even when you aren’t here. It is imprinted on the walls and shelves; it is on Floyd. Your entire soul has been his long before Jade even laid eyes on you.

Now he knows why you frequent the storage room. Now he knows your secret.

He’ll open your torso and pry it out of you, crush it underfoot, and insert a new secret. A better secret. His secret.

Floyd finishes inside of you with a husky, satisfied groan, his arms wrapped possessively around your trembling frame while you bite back bawdy moans. Jade is overcome with a loathsome chill. You have never belonged to him. Not ever. Certainly not now.

“We should get back out there.” Your mumbling reaches his ears, subdued in the cramped storage room. “Before someone comes looking.”

“Don’t wanna. S’warm and cozy inside.”

“Floyd…” Greedy hands are roaming beneath your shirt. You squirm, attempting to pull yourself off of his softening cock, but he yanks you against his chest and holds firm. “We can do this again later. But right now I need to clean up and you have to work. If we take too long, someone will definitely come looking.”

Floyd rolls his eyes, unwilling to acquiesce until yellow crosses yellow. For a strained moment Jade holds his brother’s inquisitive stare, investigating his blank expression for an iota of emotion. The air stales between the both of them, unspoken accusations festering. And then Floyd’s dull hues brighten and a wide smirk blossoms on his lips.

“Fine, fine. We’ll get back to work now.”

An apocalypse rages within Jade’s terrarium heart.

ii. when he turns to the shards for a solution, the image that is offered is weak and hazy. if he is to live without his other half, he must find ways to fill in the blanks. and so it is said that the lonesome monops clutched the largest shard in a resolute fist and cut away the impression of his other half.

In some cases, Jade is Floyd’s shadow, a reasonable body double who is admired for his patience and persistence. Sometimes he’s the collar and the leash; other times he is meticulously unrestrained. Everything is an act, carefully curated for unsuspecting audiences. Floyd is all physical destruction. He is swift like a clean cut, devastating like a tsunami.

For the first time in a while, Jade cannot bear the face he sees in the mirror. It doesn’t feel like it belongs to him, for it is a reflection of Floyd. It’s a permanent reminder that the two of them are linked whether or not he fancies that. But Jade does not want to be the collar and the lash, nor does he wish to recall the day Floyd took yet another precious thing from him. This face is proof that even he cannot have anything for himself. It is evidence that he is bound to share and share and share until death. He will remain as the shadow, the dark, the salt, and the night for all of eternity, a two-faced creature lacking a true identity.

Neither of them addresses the elephant in the room. If Floyd shows any indication that he wants to bring it up, Jade sweeps the topic away before it can poison his mood. He knows as well as Jade does that it’s not worth bickering over, even if their hackles raise whenever they look at each other.

So Floyd’s been fucking you in the storage room. What’s so traumatic about that? Really, it shouldn’t come as a surprise, but the image still persists in his head like a ruthless phantom. He’s left lying awake at night, sifting through that memory and the ones that came before it for any inkling of what went wrong. Was it his own patience that cost him? Was it the fact that Floyd could charm you in ways Jade just couldn’t?

They have the same face. So why did you choose to love his other half?

Without Floyd, Jade feels incomplete. That’s his family—his only brother. He shouldn’t hate his kin, but he can’t just sit with envy and frustration and pretend as if it’s okay.

The mirror reflects his grim countenance, sneering at him with troubling familiarity. Cracks spiderweb along the length of the glass, extending outwards from where his fist landed. Pain sparks beneath bruising knuckles, masterfully hidden under the pristine fabric of a pure-white glove.

The terrarium is filling with foul things, and Jade doesn’t have enough control to stop the invasion.

— — —

“It’s been really slow today, hasn’t it?” you ask, looking to Jade for his input.

“I’ll admit it’s unusually quiet.” He glances at you, a gentle smile tugging at his lips. He’s tired, but it hardly shows. “Is that a bad thing?”

“No, not at all! I welcome the break. Still… It’s weird. Mostro Lounge almost always has lots of customers.”

“I suppose it’s less work for us.”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

Heaving a relieved sigh, you rest your elbows on the counter, content to watch the few patrons lingering in the lounge. Jade’s eyes travel along the length of your back, over the the dip and swoop of your spine when you bend forward, and he’s immediately brought back to the day he discovered you and Floyd in the storage room.

“I’ve got it!” you announce moments later, lighting up like a bulb. “The reason it’s so quiet.”

“Oh?” He raises a brow, feigning ignorance.

“It’s because Floyd’s not here. Everything’s super lively when he’s around.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhm. It’s a shame he’s not scheduled today. Oh, but it’s not so bad when it’s just the two of us. We’re a good team!”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

“I’m happy we can talk like this. It feels like we never have the chance to speak during work and I’m always worried I’ll bother you if I try to start a conversation.”

“You couldn’t possibly bother me.” Jade pauses to ruminate on his thoughts before adding, “Well, you were awfully troublesome in the beginning. Ah, don’t look so upset. I’m only admitting my feelings.”

“Am I still troublesome?” You cross your arms over your chest, pouting.

You are. Very much so, I’m afraid.

“I tolerate you now.”

“That doesn’t sound any better!”

Jade chuckles. “It’s merely constructive criticism. Take it in stride.”

“Ugh. You’re the worst.” Despite that, a smile creeps onto your face.

It’s the same smile you show Floyd, so therefore it has no meaning. It’s not special.

Jade abhors it. He should be the one in that storage room with you. It should be Jade who touches and lavishes you with filthy praise before inevitable destruction. Consolation before bruises and bite marks. Sugar before salt. Love before lust.

You can’t possibly fit in his make-believe terrarium now—not when your heart lies with Floyd. Just what is his brother to you? What do you possibly see in him that you fail to see in Jade? They are the same. They are mirror images of one another. There is no difference.

So why won’t you look at him with admiration in your eyes? Eyes he’ll gouge out for beholding another man. Why won’t you kiss him in secret? Lips he’ll sew shut for touching a mouth that isn’t his. Why won’t you beckon him into that cursed storage room and pull him flush against you, joining together in bodily matrimony? A body he’ll cage to prevent it from fleeing. Why can’t you love him until the very feeling is leaking from your pores? Leaking like the blood that will run far and red when he transplants his love into your chest. Why must you associate yourself with the other half—the better half? 

The half that’s won.

It doesn’t matter if Floyd’s willing to share. Jade isn’t feeling charitable. He doesn’t want to cut you up into tiny shreds and share. You’re for his enjoyment. This is a non-negotiable fact.

Perhaps he’s the worst just as you claimed. Because if he was the best he’d have you. Because if he was the best he wouldn’t feel the need to mourn a gutting loss. Because if he was the best he wouldn’t feel the need to fall back on a nasty trump card. But when fair play fails, one must resort to sordid schemes in order to secure victory. You can’t expect to climb the corporate ladder without stepping on a few rotted rungs in the ascent, courtesy of those who came before.

It’s fine if he plays dirty. After all, his feelings have never been defined by purity.

“You seem tired. Would you like me to fetch you something to drink?”

“Mm, yeah. Could you? I’d hate to trouble you.”

“It’s not a problem. Will tea be suitable?”

“Sure. I could go for chamomile. I heard you’re great at making tea, so I know it’ll be good.”

“I still have much to learn, but I’m flattered you hold me in such pleasant regard.”

“I doubt you could ever fail. You’re always succeeding. I’m actually kinda jealous. How are you so good at—oh! Someone needs me at table three. Be right back.”

Jade nods, replaying your words in a loop. I doubt you could ever fail. You’re always succeeding. But he has failed. He’s failed and it’s eating him alive because you’re so close and yet out of his reach.

You spread your wings like a good social butterfly and abandon your place at the counter. Jade’s left to prepare your tea in peace. He chooses from the vast selection lining the wall—chamomile just as you suggested—and goes through the motions of filling the kettle with fresh water. He’s working on a time limit here, so he withdraws his magic pen, mutters the proper incantation, and waits for the telltale hiss. Even though he would like to prepare it with the utmost care, he must be hasty and stealthy if he wants to slip the special ingredient in without garnering unwanted attention.

Luckily, you’re trapped in a conversation with a friend and won’t be returning to his side anytime soon. That’s another trait he’s learned about you. Just like Floyd, you adore chatting. It’s not difficult to hold a conversation with you, especially when you’re the one leading it. You shine when you speak. He needs to snuff you before anyone else comes to seek your light.

Perhaps it’s this intoxicating quality of yours that caught Floyd’s heart. Jade can’t quite ascertain when he started looking at you from less-than-friendly angles or what the exact catalyst for your relationship with his twin was. It must have begun as a wicked fascination. An innate curiosity with the surface and its humans. How else could Floyd have fallen for you if he rarely spoke with you? Was it your strengths that earned his approval? Was it your humanity that left him impressed?

It’s not fair, but Jade won’t whine about it. He’s not a child. Whining won’t solve anything.

He must love you until you shatter.

The kettle whistles, thus yanking him from his innermost contemplations. He lifts it, minding the burning surface, and pours the water into a porcelain cup. Steam rises and furls like wispy, ghostly fingers. He could keep the vial hidden in his pocket and serve you a normal cup of chamomile. But the situation isn’t normal and he can’t just charm you as he normally would.

That didn’t work, so he must cross that method off his list and resort to what’s next. It’s only natural to fight for the thing you cherish most, so he shall do just that.

If Floyd hasn’t broken you yet, he certainly will.

You’re back at the counter just as he finishes stirring it in with the now darkening, tea-tainted water. Jade hands it to you, reminding you that it’s still hot. It’s an empty warning. He couldn’t care less if the liquid scorches your tongue. Let it burn, he thinks, his eyes narrowed as he watches you blow on it so it’ll cool faster. Perhaps then you’ll stop tangling your tongue with him.

Sometimes love is as unforgiving as the deep sea, turbulent and harrowing. Sometimes you must kill the one you love to truly understand the feeling—to dissect it down to the biological, scientific level.

Like always, he observes you while you drink the tea throughout the remainder of your shift. You look so sleepy, your eyelids fluttering and snapping open. You’re slipping; he can see it. Jade wonders what face you might show him later—what emotion will reflect in fragile eyes.

He knows it won’t be love, but that doesn’t stop him from hoping.

iii. separated from his other half, monops is unrecognizable—a hollow monster who has lost fractions of his humanity in a selfish effort to dispose of unnatural characteristics. he cannot hope to find his own personality amidst the mess in his tower, so he sits before the broken, bloodied shards once again. his other half meets him there, shattered and in pieces as he stares.

You shift in your sleep, just barely breaching the surface of consciousness. Jade placed you on his bed after carrying you from the lounge to his and Floyd’s room, where he proceeded to bind your arms and gag you. You look mostly peaceful tangled in his sheets, an oblivious thing who knows nothing of the mountains he’s had to scale in order to arrive at this point—at the glorious top.

Floyd’s not here, but Jade suspects he might have already known what was coming. They’ve always known how to read the other. Maybe it’s telepathy.

Or maybe not. They’re just aware of the other’s monstrosities. That’s all there is to it.

It’s then when your eyes snap open. Jade doesn’t bother to hide the smile crawling onto his face as he watches you come to, slowly assessing your surroundings. It doesn’t take long for you to start struggling once you’ve registered the tie binding your wrists together and the gag shoved into your mouth. Your voice comes out muffled, but your nostrils are flaring. Your eyes are widening. He can smell your fear—taste it on the tip of his tongue.

It prickles his skin, sets it on fire.

Jade sits primly at the edge of Floyd’s bed, content to study you from a distance. You’re writhing desperately in an attempt to loosen the restraints. He’s tied them well. It’s a technique mastered and put into practice. You’re not getting out of this.

“You fainted.”

You startle, turning your head to look at him. The fear seems to diminish for a moment before it returns in full force. Your glassy eyes are pleading: Why?

“It’s not wise to overwork yourself. You should prioritize your health more.”

Oh, is this it? Are those tears? Already? When he hasn’t even done anything to you yet? Have you really been this weak all along?

You try to talk despite the gag, and the attempt is so pitiful that Jade crosses over to tug it down from your mouth. Saliva strings from the gag. Messy.

“Jade! What the hell?! Why am I tied up? Why am I in your room?”

He frowns. “I’ll admit I’m rather…displeased.” He could unleash the torrent right now, but he won’t. Not yet. “Perhaps you might know why my mood has soured?”

“I… What? Is this because I fainted? Look, I’m sorry. I’ll take better care of myself. Please don’t make this a big deal.”

He tilts his head, confused. “I don’t quite care that you fainted.” He seizes your chin and forces you to meet his mismatched hues. “I care about the company you keep.”

“The company I keep? I don’t understand. What are you—”

“Give it some thought.” His fingers dig into your cheeks. Hard.

You yelp, attempting to pull away. He doesn’t release you. “I don’t know what you mean! Seriously, what’s all of this about? Did I do something wrong? Please… Please let me go.”

“You’re getting there.” He lessens the pressure on your jaw. “Come now. You’re so close.”

“Jade, please—”

“This is regarding your involvement with my brother,” he begins, and horror settles on your face. “Ah, so you are following. Wonderful.”

“Did you… Did you see us?”

“More than I ever wanted to see, yes.” He smiles thinly and releases you. “I thought it was such a dreadful, ugly thing to behold. My own kin lusting after the only thing I’ve ever loved to such a degree.” He swipes a faux tear from his eye. His voice drops to a threateningly low decibel next, and darkness passes over his features. He looks scarily grotesque. “It made me so ill. Seeing you in that closet with Floyd… Watching you talk to Azul—to everyone else—makes me so ill. I fondly contemplated the most troubling things.”

“W-What?”

“It truly is a conundrum.” He sighs as if unloading a heavy burden. “To feel so strongly for something that even love and hate become one and the same… I want nothing more than to strangle you whenever I see you with Floyd, with Azul, with anyone who isn’t me. I want to cut into your torso and make you suffer tenfold for what I’ve had to endure.” His fingers curl around your ankles, sliding down to reach your shoes. He unties the laces, sliding both from your feet. And then he’s grasping them, rubbing circles into your soles. “I want you to look at me no matter what, even when you’re a shredded, bloodied mess.”

“You… You’re joking, r-right?”

“Am I?” He smiles again, but it’s wider this time. Exhilarated. Excited. “Should we see who’s laughing when I sever your feet at the ankles? He peels your socks off next, tossing them over his shoulder. “Do you think that’s a fitting punishment?”

“Fuck no! You’re insane!”

He hums his acknowledgement and reaches for your skirt. Your heart drops into your stomach, every muscle tightening with raw terror. Instinctively, you kick out at him. Your foot slams into his chest. If it hurts, he doesn’t let it show.

“Don’t you dare touch me, you creep! Stay the fuck away!” By the third kick, he catches your foot. And he stares at it. Quietly. Expressionlessly. There is nothing in his face. That horrifies you. “Jade… Jade, I’m sorry. Can we please… Can you please stop this?”

“Am I truly that undesirable? You would rather have Floyd than me?”

“Yes, of course! Floyd’s not a fucking pervert like you!”

Jade’s laughter is sudden and short. It trembles through him like an earthquake. “Forgive me. It was so funny I just had to chuckle.” A smug smile takes up residence on his face. “Do you really think Floyd is so pure? That he’s the perfect partner all humans dream of?”

“He didn’t outright admit to wanting to murder me so, uh, yeah, he’s much better than your crazy ass!”

Jade squeezes your foot once before setting it down on the bed. He crawls over you, his hands snaking up your thighs. “That’s a shame. You’ll think differently soon enough. He just hasn’t given you reason to fear him yet.”

“I highly doubt—hey! Don’t touch there!” You struggle again, your breath coming in short, helpless huffs. “Let go of me. Please. Jade, let go…” Your voice trails off, spotted with distress.

His hand settles over your clothed pussy next. Two fingers press up against that sacred spot, tracing the area experimentally. “This is that warm and cozy place, yes?” You shake your head at him, lips trembling. He smirks, vicious and mean, and strokes slow, soothing lines up and down the outline. “Is it your safe day? Ah, but perhaps love is stronger than medicine. Stronger than all of the filth Floyd’s emptied in you. What do you think?”

“No… No, stop!”

“It really did sicken me—the thought of you and Floyd. Together. Forever. If you were to fall pregnant, I’d have to take a textbook to your stomach. The alchemy textbook. That one would inflict the most damage, you see,” he admits with a pleasant hum. He watches the spreading wet patch with predatory glee before gazing back at you. “But you’re not pregnant, right?”

“I’m not! I’m not!” You gasp when his fingers dip into the waistband of your panties, harshly tugging them from your skin. And then his fingers are inching towards your pussy. “What are you—stop! No, no, no! Floyd! Floyd, help!” You squirm beneath him, kicking and screaming. “Floyd! Floyd, help me! Please! Anyone—someone—please help!”

A shadow passes over your face for a second before his hand comes down upon your mouth to silence your incessant shrieks. Your sobs are softer now, each plea spoken into his palm. Jade exhales slowly, composing himself.

“You’ve said his name more than enough. Say it any more and I’m afraid I’ll have to remedy this bad habit. Just how much do you value your tongue, I wonder?”

Before you can even think of struggling further, he’s switching the positions. Sitting back against the headboard, he tugs you onto his lap. You try to get away from him, but he holds you steady. The gag is fastened around your mouth once more, tighter this time.

“Now, now. You’re not going to escape, so there’s no point in exhausting your energy. Pointless pursuits are never rewarded,” he chides, tutting. He pulls his magic pen from his pocket and flicks it in the air once. A mirror materializes, displaying your disturbed expression in the glass.

Your mind blanks out then, logic overridden with the intrinsic desperation to survive. Is that really you looking back? It can’t be. The (Name) you know has never looked this fearful. Her face has never been this warped with panic.

But then you feel something stiff prodding you from behind, and the horror triples. You squirm again, much more forceful, sobbing into the gag and shaking your head as if that will earn you a sliver of sympathy from him. He continues to hold you against him with one arm while the other reaches to pull himself free from the confines of his pants and boxers.

“We have the same face, so there’s no need to cry. If it really helps, just think of me as Floyd,” he teases, and it sickens you. Makes you feel so gross and filthy. You want to step out of your skin, travel to a place that isn’t here, disappear into the tile and never return. Tears trace down your cheeks in salty rivulets. You can only produce blubbery whimpers now. His erect cock curves up towards your stomach. Jade lifts your skirt to get a better view. The mirror reflects it all in crisp detail. “What do you think? Is it bigger than his?”

His knuckles trace your cheek, uncharacteristically tender.

“It will seem that way when it’s inside, won’t it?”

In response you shift in his lap, tugging at the tie tightly secured around your wrists, and he merely chuckles. It’s delightful, really, the way you move like captured prey. Your chest heaves when the fleshy head of his cock presses shallowly inside your pussy, sampling wet warmth. You pray it’ll end fast. You pray he’ll be gentle. You pray he’ll skin you alive so you’ll never have to spend another second in this body. Anything but this.

Jade doesn’t grant either of those prayers, for he lifts you up slightly, aims for home, and slams you down in one brutal thrust that punches the air from your lungs. You choke on your tongue, biting down so hard that your teeth split the skin on the inside of your cheek. Blood pools into your mouth. It stings, but nothing hurts more than the unwanted intrusion. Shamelessly, much to your horror, your walls affix to him in an attempt to accommodate his girth. Without intending to, you catch yourself in the mirror. The stretch is sinful, your pussy wrapped snugly around him, and he’s slotted all the way to the hilt.

It’s torture for you.

It’s a twisted relief for Jade. A triumphant euphoria.

He exhales a shaky breath, his lips peeling apart to reveal a row of sharp teeth. In the mirror he looks every bit the predator he’s meant to be: cruel and cutthroat, staking claim on a stolen prize. His fingers dig into the meat of your hips as he rocks you up and down, occasionally bucking his hips to meet your soft, plush ass.

“It’s strange,” he manages through his grunts and groans, his breath hot on your nape, “I imagined this would feel more gratifying than any other gruesome thrill. Mm, but it’s not—” he slams you down again, reveling in your muffled wailing, “not nearly enough.”

Your eyes, wet with tears, question his reflection. You watch with bated breath as he slides your collar away, leaning in to press his lips to your neck. Your pulse stutters in his mouth, a jittery, fearful thing.

He inhales the pungent scent of sweat and sex, the scent of your fear, the scent of himself on you. From head to toe, externally and internally, you are covered in him, wrapped around him, molded to his very shape. You’ve gone stiff in his arms, too frightened to move a single muscle, but it only serves to excite him more. He needs to bear witness to all of it—to every inch of you, stripped bare and wired with anxiety.

Needle-thin teeth prick your skin. You wince and squeeze your eyes shut.

“Does it hurt?”

Despairing and hopeless, you deflate against him. Your body shakes with every sob.

It hurts. It hurts so much. More than anything has ever hurt before. And Jade knows this because he isn’t gentle. He has no interest in being sweet. He bites to harm. To kill. To destroy.

Jade sinks in deep: his teeth in your throat and his cock in your guts. And it hurts.

“I’m glad,” he murmurs, his lips slick and spattered with crimson when he pulls away, breathing heavily. “I’m so pleased…”

The blood just won’t stop. It’s flowing in rivers, cascading down the juncture between neck and shoulder and staining your clothes. Did he bite something major? Oh God—are you going to bleed out? Are you going to die? Did he get that one artery—the throat artery—the whatever-the-fuck-it’s-called artery? Is that even possible? Why won’t the blood stop? Why do you feel so fuzzy—so faint? It really won’t stop. It’s an ocean.

It’s everywhere.

Jade pinches you to bring you back to yourself; his nails prick your thigh, imprinting crescent moons in skin, and it works. You surface, taking in big gulps of oxygen while your heart skips over itself. You can’t drift off even if you wanted to; your reflection is much too haunting, destroyed and debased in every possible way. It grounds you in reality, digs deeply.

“Pain is the most thrilling form of love. You’ve taught me something new. Thank you.”

From behind, peering over your shoulder, his reflection grins at you. Wildly untamed and blood-stained, he’s manic. Unhinged. Uncaged. His pupils are so large they nearly eclipse his heterochromatic irises, rendering both eyes beady and black. Two pits of a molten void—a starless outer space.

He looks just like Floyd.

[justporo]

The Push and the Pull (There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin)

I'm so deep in my feelings today, just sitting on the sofa being sick. So this is what you get: an angsty, fluffy, deeply corny fic of Astarion and Tav having a heart to heart. (Fueled by Taylor Swift and underlined by a Hozier lyric in the title, we really out here using all the clichés today)

And I'd really like to dedicate this to all my friendly and lovely and caring mutuals and friends here today - those I talk to almost every day now, those who created lovely art for me and those who are just all around so so lovely to me.

Summary: Since Astarion's confession, Tav and the vampire have spent every single possible moment together, getting closer, but guilt weighs on her and so she speaks her mind - about more than one thing apparently.

Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav (You)

Warnings: Talk about sex and past trauma

Wordcount: 2,4k

Song: This is me trying - Taylor Swift

~~~

You laid with Astarion in his tent, all entangled: your arms around his upper body, one leg hooked around his and the other mushed between his as well. And Astarion held you just as desperately. His arms always seemed to drag you in closer as to not allow just the tiniest piece of space between you. His hands were roaming your back, softly caressing it and his face burrowed in your hair, softly nuzzling you with his nose.

Your face was buried in his chest, breathing in his scent: camp fire smoke, forest pine needles and some of the scent he liked to put on with bergamot and brandy.

You wanted to hold him as closely as possible. Wanting to give him as much of this comfort as possible.

Since his confession at Moonrise Towers you had spent every single night together. At first Astarion had seemed a bit surprised when you had come over and told him you wanted to spend the evening and the night with him. Seemingly he hadn’t been able to wrap his head around the fact that you actually wanted to spend time with him – with both your clothes on. Despite you assuring him after his confession that you cared deeply for him and were more than prepared to aid him in figuring out what he needed. And waiting, waiting until he was comfortable again for other stuff – or even finding new ways altogether if that was what was required.

But soon he’d been awaiting you every evening to come over, seeming like a kid that was desperate to be allowed to finally leave the dinner table to go play whenever you and the rest set up camp for the night. And so usually during the evening when the whole party retired you spent your nights with the vampire. Talking, detangling his hair, kissing, him massaging your tensed back, joking around until you both almost cried, worrying about what the next day or battle would bring, reading, playing cards with a deck you had pickpocketed somewhere, just getting to know each other better.

At this point you both really enjoyed that your elven nature allowed you to stay up way longer than most other party members – grateful for the extra time to spend with each other.

But the thing you probably spent most of your time with was: holding each other. Laying like this, feeling each other’s bodies, delighting in the comfort to know the other one was alive and just as eager to be held.

Astarion could seemingly  never get enough of having you in his arms. Always pulling you back into his arms in the morning when you tried to crawl out of his tent to start the day. Always groaning and hugging you harder when you started to protest until you gave in – if only for five more minutes. And how could you deny him anyway – this was the bare minimum he deserved after two hundred years of torment and being stripped of the most basic needs.

And also you wanted to imprint the feeling of his arms around you and his body against yours on your mind, wanting to memorise his smell – so to be able to always conjure this sensation and the feelings that came with it: warmth, joy, love.

You hadn’t quite put that last thing in words yet, but you’d known you felt like that for some time now. Your heart swelled achingly whenever you thought about Astarion. Your dearest wish being to keep him safe, help him heal and hold him close for as long as you were able to.

But tonight, you couldn’t shake a feeling of sadness. With all the positive developments in your relationship with the vampire there was this one thing that kept gnawing on your thoughts and lay heavy on your mind. And you felt you had to get it out now.

You pushed up from your cuddling position, Astarion immediately making a displeased noise and face while you leant on your arms to hover above him and look directly into his eyes. And you saw how his facial expression changed from mocking annoyance to worry, his brows drawing together, as he looked at you and obviously saw in your face that something was the matter.

He softly cupped your face with one hand: “What is it, my love? Is something wrong? Have I done something wro-“ “I’m-I’m sorry, Astarion”, you blurted out.

Immediately Astarion’s eyes filled with shock, his lips parted slightly – he obviously immediately thought that he had messed up in some kind of way. So you quickly continued to rip him out of his spiralling negative thoughts.

“I feel like… No… I took advantage of you and for that I feel terrible, Astarion, I’m so sorry. I know this does not changed what happened, but I wanted you to know that. And I hope you can forgive me for that”, you said and sat up, suddenly feeling you needed to be in an upright position to have this conversation.

Astarion sat up as well, leaning back on his hands and looking utterly confused. His eyes weren’t full of fear anymore but now filled with worry: “Love, could you please clarify because it seems I can’t catch up with what you mean.”

“The nights we slept with each other”, you replied immediately, feeling how the words and the feelings in you were desperate to get out. Tears started to well up in your eyes which you angrily started to rub away with your hands. “I treated you just as everyone else did. I don’t want that, I don’t want to use you, you deserve better”, you continued as the tears really started flowing in hot streams over your cheeks.

Astarion sat up further until he was in a cross-legged position and could lean to you to grab your hands that kept wiping away tears you felt you weren’t allowed to shed in this moment.

“Love, you feel like you took advantage of me when I told you I manipulated you into falling for me and now feel bad that you did exactly what I wanted you to do?”, he replied with sorrow on his face and you realised he had heaps of his own guilt.

You didn’t know how to reply so you just kept looking at him. “Tav, I understand what you mean but… How were you even supposed to know at that point?” You started to shrug, trying to say something like you would have had to know better but Astarion shushed you. He moved to cup your cheek.

“My sweet, please, I can’t even say how much I appreciate you saying this but please – leave it in the past, alright? I understand you feel bad for that and so do I for seducing you with ulterior motives in mind.”

You wanted to immediately reassure him that you were over this, but again he made you stay silent with softly lifting his free hand to silence you.

“Let us just agree to leave this behind us, alright? We are here now. Let’s not burden yourself with more than we already have going on, my love. This is a hard lesson I had to learn in life: you can’t undo what has happened, so sometimes it’s better to not let your mind be consumed by it.”

You softly nodded when he looked at you with raised eyebrows awaiting your approval. The tears had slowly subsided, but Astarion’s fingers were still softly brushing over your cheeks.

“And if it’s any reconciliation: it’s been different with you, from the very beginning.” He angled his head and his crimson gaze drifted away softly as he remembered.

 “You were so eager to be held, to open your heart and give yourself to me. And more so, so eager to give back”, he whispered and absent-mindedly a warm smile crept onto his face before his brows drew together again. “And now you are with me. Every single free second you have you spend with me although I can’t… It’s…”, his words trailed off, his hand dropped from your face.

Astarion sighed and lifted his face to the ceiling of the tent. “I know you said you were willing to wait and… not have sex with me until I was ready for it. And the next time I want to fall into your arms, I want to be sure it's without fear, without a slither of doubt, with nothing on my mind but having you, but…” His words trailed off again, his gaze dropping to the floor. You cautiously reached for one of his hands, starting to softly knead it with yours.

After a few moments, Astarion sighed and looked directly at you, red eyes piercing: “The truth is… I want you, desperately. I can’t stop thinking about how your naked body felt against mine. Hells, I get aroused basically every time you’re even remotely close to me. I feel like a giddy adolescent around you at the best of times. Sometimes I can't stop thinking about burying my face between your legs, slobbering at you like a godsdamned dog until you forget anything but my name. Or about wanting to immerse myself in you, lose myself under your hands for I know I would not have to fear drowning. But it all feels so rotten. It’s so frustrating.” He withdrew his hand from yours and pressed both of them against his eyes with a sigh of frustration.

You could only sit there and listen to his speech, your cheeks heating slightly at his confession. And you realised that he was walking around with so much worry and pain and desperation.

“Would you rather I keep more of a dista-“ “NO!”, Astarion immediately exclaimed and stared at you. “Unless…”, he continued more calmly and with a tinge of worry in his voice, “I mean unless it makes you uncomfortable that I’m like a needy youth around you.” You immediately shook your head eagerly. Astarion went back to pressing his hands to his eyes.

“Astarion, I’m…” – you wanted to apologise again but Astarion shortly lifted his hands and gave you a stare that dared you to utter the words, so you just sighed and went on – “If I can do anything to help you, please tell me. But other than that: firstly, I want you too – more than is probably healthy, I’m sure you know that. But - look at me” – you grabbed his hands this time, forced him to look at you for the next words – “I love spending time with you like this. These are the best parts of my day. You’re a delight to be around, Astarion, you’re so smart and witty. I could listen to you talk for hours. If we could just stay here, laying in each other’s arms forever, you can bet your sweet ass, I would!”

You had almost shouted the last words, riling yourself up so much with your feelings for the vampire spawn. And you felt your feelings almost boil over in your chest, so you proceeded with the thought racing through your mind before you got too shy and wouldn’t put it out there:

“I love you, Astarion!”

It came out almost a little forceful and you pressed your lips together after the words had left your mouth. But you immediately were sure that it had been the right thing to do.

Astarion’s eyes widened at you, his mouth hanging open. His eyes jumped all over you, from your one eye to the other, to your lips and back again.

The silence drew out and you started to become uneasy, awkwardly starting to shift around in your sitting position as you waited for Astarion to react with something more than surprise.

“Sorry, I shouted”, you said and bit your lip “and you don’t have to say it back.” “Gods, stop apologising already, you idiot”, Astarion immediately replied and swung over to grab your face and kiss you – forcefully and passionately.

After some long moments he broke the kiss shortly: “Also I love you too, Tav.” And then he kissed you again, pulling you over until you sat in his lap. “I love you more than I ever loved anything”, he whispered in between kisses.

Somewhen, you leaned back until you were laying there again just like at the beginning of the night. Still kissing. And you stayed like this for a long time.

Much later you broke away, both your lips swollen from kissing, and just looked into each other’s eyes. You pressed your hand against Astarion’s with spread fingers – observing the differences between your hand and his.

“Astarion?”

“Hm?”, he simply hummed and kept staring at you.

“You said I didn’t have to apologise.”

“Hm.”

“I’ll have you know the same goes for you, okay? Because don’t think I didn’t realise you only spoke about me and left yourself out! I mean, yes, you manipulated you, but you fell for me in the end, you clown, and look where all that got you”, you said and couldn’t help grinning. You closed your fingers around Astarion’s hand.

Astarion grinned back: “Right in the best kind of mess I could have ever imagined. And now you’re stuck with this clown.” He moved his free hand to motion towards himself. “And I would argue a much more attractive clown than the average jester.”

You laughed softly at that and moved in to press another kiss to his lips. Then you buried your face against his chest again while he wrapped his arms around you closer.

“Would you mind saying it again?”, Astarion whispered softly.

For a moment, you were confused but then caught on. You lifted your head again to look directly into his open and shining red eyes: “I love you, Astarion.”

His eyes started to shine even more: “I love you, Tav.”

And you grinned at each other giddily until you had to press your head against his shirt and let out a little squeal of happiness and kick your feet while you heard and felt Astarion’s soft laugh rumbling through his chest.

Then you snuggled up against each other until you both lay comfortably and you both drifted off into your trance – while your hearts had yet moved a bit closer together.

[bvidzsoo]

Love Me Like A Rockstar (7)

ー☆ Chapter 7: Figure It Out

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader

ー☆ Warning: cussing ー☆ Word count: 5.7k ー☆ Genre: university!au, enemies to lovers!au, rockstar!au ー☆ Rating: sfw ー☆ Summary: Love. You wanted none of it. You had already been heartbroken very badly once, you didn't wish to go through that ever again. But the Universe works in intricate ways and, somehow, you found yourself webbed up in a local rockstar's life, Song Mingi. He was everything you expected him to be, yet nothing like you imagined him he would be. What happens when you find mutual understanding and have heartful conversations? Will he be able to break down your walls? Will you be able to chase away his darkness?

A/N: Hey, lovelies! I'm back with another chapter, sorry for the longer wait, but I had to finish a veeery lengthy oneshot (you can check it out if you want, it's another Mingi one and it's part of my pirate series). I really liked this chapter, it isn't very charged with action, but I think we can finally see the progress in their relationship (or maybe it's just me haha). You know the jist, but please listen to this chapter's song Figure It Out before or while reading the chapter! Let me know your thoughts, and I hope you enjoy and have a nice rest of the week! <3

Taglist: @orshii @or5i @lovely-red2 @scarfac3 @sunaswifes-blog @voicesinmyhead-rc @teez-the-time @maru-matt @kyeos4ng @deathbyyeekies @chicksmoothie @mjlbn01 @xhexy @sharksandminhos

⟨Series M.list ↭ Previous Chapter⟩

♫Playlist♫

『Nothing here to see

Just a kid like me

Trying to cut some teeth

Trying to figure it out』

            Mingi’s studio wasn’t so big compared to how it appeared from the outside. But it felt cozy and rather homey with a few polaroid photos stamped up on the wall above a small dark green couch, which had a dozen of colored pillows, and a yellow blanket thrown haphazardly on it. I slipped the straps of my backpack off my shoulders and placed it by the couch, clearing my throat, feeling a bit awkward as I disregarded my jacket, and placed it next to Mingi’s on the sofa. There was a small window, but blinds were covering it, and the lights were rather dim as I turned to face Mingi. He was grinning, hands gripped together in front of himself, and I raised an eyebrow at him.

“Well, what do you think?” He asked as he gestured around, and I chuckled, letting my eyes roam around for a second time. His desk was long and seemed rather organized, a few notebooks opened and pens littered around it. His whole setup took up a lot of space, but you still had enough to be able to write comfortably. He had yellow little notes scattered all around his wall in front of his desk, and for some reason I found that adorable. Mingi tended to be forgetful, it wasn’t a surprise that he’d have to jot down his thoughts quickly while working on his songs.

“It’s cool,” I muttered with a shrug, pushing my hands in the pockets of my jeans, “I’ve never been inside a studio before.”

“Glad to be your first.” My eyes narrowed at Mingi’s words, and judging based on the cheeky smile on his face, he knew what he was doing. I huffed and rolled my eyes, feeling a little weird being cooped up in a small space, alone with Mingi. We’ve never really been on our own before, despite texting and talking at university as well, I couldn’t help but feel a little bit awkward still. It’s like the feeling never truly went away, but maybe it was just me as Mingi seemed rather relaxed and nonchalant. I cleared my throat when Mingi didn’t say anything else, suddenly a question pressing on my tongue.

“Uh, have you had lunch today?” I asked as I shuffled on my two feet, Mingi’s eyebrows furrowing in an almost adorable manner. And as if on cue, his stomach growled loudly, making me chuckle as I shook my head at him, “I’ll take that as a no, then.”

“Yeah, I didn’t get the chance.” He sighed, pouting, “I kinda overlooked the date of the deadline and now I really can’t afford wasting any more time.”

“Then why would you drive me home? Isn’t that wasting your time?” I asked as I went to retrieve my bag. I had bought some butter croissants this morning that I never got to eat as I had a smaller stomachache, to which the cure was a good, warm, soup. If I ate these croissants, it would’ve only upset my stomach more.

“It’s raining.” As if that was reasoning enough, but I stayed silent as I unzipped my backpack and dug into it, looking for the plastic bag, “And to be fair, I kind of need a break. I feel like I’m slowly losing my mind.”

“I thought you didn’t have a mind.” I teased with a pointed look, making Mingi roll his eyes as I finally found the plastic bag and grabbed it out of my backpack before I lowered it back onto the floor, “Here, eat these.”

Mingi’s eyes widened in surprise and he seemed reluctant for a second, “Just take it, I won’t eat them and I’d rather you eat it then I throw it away later.”

“Aw,” Mingi cooed as he took a few steps to come closer, batting his eyelashes at me in a cringe worthy manner, “Did you buy this specifically for me?”

“I bought them for myself, did you not hear what I said?” I deadpanned, and whiskey my hand away when Mingi went to grab the plastic bag. He quirked an eyebrow and I gave him a long stare, slightly glaring, “I wouldn’t waste my little money on you, you’re not special.”

“In that case, I don’t want it.” Mingi’s face slipped into a neutral mask, and I gulped, suddenly regretting my words. Perhaps I was being too harsh with him when he was always rather nice to me. I cleared my throat and grabbed his hand, ignoring the warmness of it, and pressed the plastic bag into his palm.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” I muttered and quickly released Mingi’s hand, looking off to the side as Mingi tried to fight off the smile on his face, looking rather pleased with himself.

“You’ve been making progress.” He grinned, as he opened the plastic bag and grabbed a butter croissant out of it. My eyebrows furrowed as I watched him take a big bite, smiling in bliss as he quickly chewed the food in his mouth, basically inhaling the pastry in mere seconds, making me rather amused.

“What are you talking about?”

“You recognize when you make a mistake, and you apologize for it.” Mingi said through a mouth full of croissant, and I grimaced at his antics. He wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand and balled up the plastic bag, aiming for the trash can which was next to the door, just a few feet away from it. He made a show of throwing it, only for it to land on the floor merely two steps away from us. I snorted in amusement as Mingi cleared his throat, flashing me a small embarrassed smile, “Anyways, I want to show you something.”

“Won’t you pick it up?” I raised an eyebrow as Mingi ignored my question and grabbed my right wrist, dragging me towards his desk, “And don’t get too used to my apologies. I know you’re only pretending to be mad at me, so I’ll stop being apologetic.”

“I’m not pretending,” Mingi huffed, throwing a quick glance at me as we reached his desk, and he reached for a chair pushed off to the side, “You have a special way with your words and you always manage to hurt my feelings somehow.”

“You’re just too sensitive.” I quickly snapped, defensive for no reason. Or maybe not for no reason, but because I knew he was right. I couldn’t help myself. I might’ve started growing more accustomed to having Mingi in my life, in a very friendship sort of way, but I still couldn’t help but have my doubts about him. I could never know. He was Yunho’s best friend after all, and whoever associated themselves with that man, wasn’t the best kind. And I know judging Mingi based on who he’s friends with is rather wrong, but it only felt right as of now. We didn’t know each other too well yet.

“I’ve been told so before,” Mingi gently pushed me in the chair he had fetched for me, pulling his own chair behind himself to take his seat, “Yunho always says despite my tough exterior I have a rather soft heart, easily harmed. Hence why I cried a lot as a child—”

“You were a crybaby?” I asked with a chuckle, watching Mingi amused as he huffed, leaning back in his chair, looking as if he regretted admitting that.

“Of course you’d make fun of me for that,” He rolled his eyes before he leaned forward, pulling his chair closer to the desk, grabbing his mouse, “But yes, I still cry.”

“A lot?” I teased, biting my lower lip when Mingi gave me a pointed stare.

“Says the one who looked like a kicked puppy abandoned by the curb when I found you at the restaurant.” Mingi muttered under his breath as he turned his computer on, clicking through various folders rather quickly. I scoffed and crossed my arms in front of my chest, narrowing my eyes at him.

“You didn’t find me there, we just happened to be at the same place.” I corrected him, “Much to my dismay.”

“Yeah, right,” Mingi scoffed, pulling up a file of various recordings on his computer screen, “if I remember correctly, you were rather grateful that I drove you home that night.”

“You kept insisting.” I pressed, giving Mingi a look when he turned his head to look at me.

“You must always have the last word, don’t you?” He raised an eyebrow, not looking too impressed, “Even through texts.”

『Nothing better to do

When I'm stuck on you

And still I'm in here

Trying to figure it out』

I just shrugged and remained silent, not admitting to his correct observation. Mingi just shook his head with a quiet tsk and then went and unplugged his headphones from the computer. He licked his lips and grabbed his glasses off the desk, pressing them up on his long nose, ruffling his black fluffy hair. He seemed to be a bit nervous as he swiveled his chair around to face me, interlacing his fingers in front of himself as he rested his arms on the armrests of the chair.

“So, uh, this isn’t finished yet,” Mingi spoke up, chuckling almost awkwardly, “it’s just a sample, still raw and shit. I started working on the track this week, but I’ve been writing the lyrics for a few weeks now. Found some inspiration for it quite recently, actually.”

“Why’s that?” I found myself asking curiously, glancing at the screen of his computer before looking back at him.

“Well, just…reasons.” Mingi was evasive as he averted his eyes, but I didn’t press the matter as he clearly looked like he didn’t want to talk about it. So, I just hummed and nodded my head in understanding, waiting patiently for him to speak up again.

“Anyways,” He cleared his throat and clapped his hands, turning back to face his computer, “you’ll be the first one to hear it. And don’t laugh, like I said, it’s far from being perfect.”

“I would never laugh, Mingi.” I said seriously as my eyebrows furrowed, making Mingi glance back at me. He studied my face for a second before he nodded once, ruffling his bangs quickly as he pressed start on the player. The song started out as a steady beat accompanied by the guitar playing softly, the melody rather comforting. It was a delicate way of easing you into the song, and as it flew naturally, Mingi’s voice suddenly made an appearance, his rasp not as noticeable as normally as his vocals were soft, completely in tune with the music and the beat.

“My head is haunting me, and my heart feels like a ghost/I need to feel something 'cause I'm still so far from home/Cross your heart and hope to die/Promise me you'll never leave my side.” I gulped as I leaned back in the chair, eyes fixated on the big screen of Mingi’s computer, soaking in the words, trying to be less aware of Mingi sitting next to me, trying to ignore my unsteady heartbeat.

“Show me what I can't see when the spark in my eyes is gone/You got me on my knees, I'm your one-man cult.” Mingi’s leg was bouncing up and down rapidly, his lower lip between his teeth as his eyes were fixed onto the screen of his computer, something suddenly dropping in the pit of my stomach as I took a glance at him from the corner of my eyes, “Cross my heart and hope to die/Promise you I'll never leave your side.”

I gulped as my fingers wrung together, lightly bobbing my head to the steady rhythm of the song, enjoying the instrumental as I drunk in Mingi’s words, his deep voice warm and pleasant to listen to, feeling goosebumps erupt on my arms, underneath my long sleeves.

“'Cause I'm telling you, you're all I need/I promise you, you're all I see.” I took a peek in Mingi’s direction as was slightly startled to find him watching me, his eyes trained on me intently. His eyebrows were very lightly furrowed as his right hand was fisted, and he sniffed loudly, holding eye contact as the next words flew smoothly against the melody, my cheeks suddenly flushed for no reason, “'Cause I'm telling you, you're all I need/I'll never leave.”

The melody was light, instrumental smooth as Mingi’s voice almost faded with the next words, that is until the drums kicked up and the beat became heavier, Mingi’s strong voice easily accompanying the instruments, rasp harsh as Mingi’s voice audibly shook with emotions poured into the song, “So, you can drag me through hell/If it meant I could hold your hand/I will follow you, 'cause I'm under your spell/And you can throw me to the flames/I will follow you, I will follow you.”

And just as I blinked, the music stopped as Mingi hit the pause button, clearing his throat loudly as he rubbed at his chin, averting his eyes as I noticed a deep flush on his face. He swiveled his chair a little towards the desk, angling his body away from mine, “Uh, like I said, it’s still raw, so it’s not that good. I recorded the first two verses like yesterday, and was playing around with the chorus before I noticed you…yeah.”

I couldn’t help but smile softly as I looked at his profile, meanwhile Mingi quickly closed the folders he had open, “Mingi, it’s…like, really good. I have no idea what standards music majors and your professors have, but to my painter ears this is…a masterpiece or something.”

Mingi froze for a second, eyes wide when he faced me again, “Really? You think so?”

“Of course!” I exclaimed with a huff, growing embarrassed as Mingi continued to look at me with a surprised expression on his face. Perhaps I really should stop teasing and playfully insulting him so much, what if he doesn’t believe my compliments when I’m being genuine?

“I’m glad.” Mingi suddenly muttered, a soft smile settling on his lips before he chuckled, turning his head away, “I’ve have to finish the chorus and then we can go, is that good with you?”

“Sure,” I smiled, grabbing my phone from my pocket as Mingi went and plucked the headphones back into the computer, throwing it around his neck, “Take your time.”

『Getting hard to sleep

Blood is in my dreams

Love is killing me

Trying to figure it out』

He hummed and then put on the headphones, clicking away on his computer as the music file opened again, and I could hear the soft melody quietly slither through the headphones. I found myself looking at Mingi a second too long before I snapped out of it, clearing my throat as I unlocked my phone and looked down at it, checking for any unread messages. As expected, there was nothing from my mother as she preferred calling even for the smallest things. From Seulgi there was also nothing as she was on a date with Wooyoung, probably too preoccupied by each other to pay attention to anything else around them. I could only hope they would finally make things official, their feelings way too obvious to be beating around the bush for any longer. They were rather cute, but also extremely annoying. I’d rather prefer Seulgi gush to me about Wooyoung as her boyfriend, than the guy she just has a massive crush on, repeating the same things over and over again, completely ignoring the advice I give her.

As there was nobody else I would be texting, other than Mingi, I clicked out of the app and absentmindedly opened Instagram, scrolling through my feed, sighing quietly. There was a light tapping sound coming from Mingi’s direction, and I looked up to see him hitting his pen against the table rhythmically, following the beat of the song, probably. There were a few new words jotted down in his notebook, the page looking like a mess of jumble to me, but probably to Mingi it was quite organized, and clear what he had scribbled down there. I looked back down at my phone, smiling as cute puppy videos popped up in my recommended, watching the video until the end before I left a like on it, scrolling past it. There were a few other posts from my acquittances from my uni classes, and I liked them all as I sighed, realizing a little get-away sounded rather nice now that I saw pictures of people traveling. I scrolled some more down, and froze for a second as Yunho’s familiar username popped up, three pictures posted one after another. There was one of two coffee cups placed on a small round table, with the view over the city in the background. The second picture was of the sunset, the sky purple and pink. And then the third one was of two intertwined hands, and I didn’t fail to notice the tag on the picture. It was probably that new girl, but I found myself not wanting to actually check, to actually confirm that it was her. I sighed, eyes lingering on the last photo, yet quickly realized, rather startled, that I didn’t feel as bitter about as I once used to. It didn’t make me react as badly like the first time I had seen his story with his new girlfriend, and my eyebrows furrowed as I ruminated on the feeling, taking my lower lip between my teeth. Yes, I still felt rather bitter about it, but it left me rather…cold? Unimpressed, maybe? Unphased, even? My eyebrows furrowed further more at the sudden confusion of my feelings, and I went to scroll again, when a username down at the comments caught my eyes.

minkiprncess: u never invite me out on coffee dates, im jealous

YuYu🌻: i thought u liked picnic dates more?

I quickly shut the app off and cleared my throat, finding my eyes glued to Mingi instantly. Seeing him talk like that to Yunho…was strange, but certainly not unexpected. They’ve been best friends since kindergarten. Their bond ran deep, and the way Yunho would often gush about Mingi, it only seemed right to see those words typed out by Mingi. But I still couldn’t quite wrap my mind around their friendship, and how it worked, since Mingi seemed to be…quite genuine as days went by. I hated to admit it, but he really wasn’t as bad as I had thought at first. Perhaps I was prejudiced, but it felt too soon to let my guard down, to truly open up and let him in like I once had done with Yunho. That was a mistake, and I was scared of committing the same mistake twice. With my eyes on Mingi, and seeing as he was rather occupied at the moment, I allowed myself the luxury to truly look at him, to take him in as he was. His profile was pretty as his black hair fell over his forehead in soft waves, definitely not styled, as I had seen Mingi run his fingers through it numerous times since I had arrived. His brow bone was rather defined and it came more forward, his brows thick and dark, seemingly a perfect fit for his features. His nose was tall and long, the bridge straight and almost perfect, probably leaving many jealous for not having a nose like his. His glasses framed his face, and they were once again slipping down his nose, but Mingi made no sign of wanting to fix that, of pushing them up as you were supposed to wear them. The distance between his upper lip and nose wasn’t too big, even from the side, his cherry red lips were plump and had a rather pretty shape, forcing me to swiftly try and look down at my own lips, wondering why a guy had better and prettier lips than a woman. I followed the sharp line of his jaw, chin not too forward, perfectly aligned with his nose, his well-defined cheekbones visible even from the side. My eyes lingered on the small mole on his jaw, way too familiar with its placement already as I had drawn it numerous times in my portraits of Mingi. I gulped and subconsciously licked my lips as my eyes ventured further, slipping down his exposed neck, his tan skin soft looking in the dim lights, his characteristic silver necklaces hanging around the base of his neck. Mingi sighed loudly and I looked at his face alarmed, thinking that I had been caught, but his eyebrows were furrowed as he took the pen he held in his hand between his white teeth, biting down on it as he looked frustrated. I had noticed before already, but his front teeth were slightly more ahead, protruding a little, and I couldn’t help but chuckle quietly, finding this trait rather…adorable. Not wanting to linger too much on that thoughts, my eyes found themselves fixated on Mingi’s fingers, and I frowned upon just realizing something.

『I'll let it go 'cause I won't see you later

And we're not allowed to talk it out

I said I'd go, put myself on show

But I'm still trying to figure it out』

His nails were painted black, with rather abstract looking designs, and as I squinted, absentmindedly leaning forward in my chair to catch a better glimpse at his middle finger, I could read the words, fix on, painted on it. My eyebrows furrowed as it made me wonder whatever that meant, and I decided to ask Mingi about it later if given the chance. I allowed my eyes to linger on his nails longer, gulping as I noticed almost each long finger of his was decorated by a ring. I wasn’t foreign to his rings, I have noticed that Mingi loved wearing rings, and the one on his middle finger, with the big red gemstone seemed to always catch my attention. I hummed silently, taking my sweet time to closely analyze each one of his rings, noting which were new, to me, as I haven’t seen them on him before, and which were the ones he wore almost daily. He seemed to have two silver ones that he never failed to leave at home, both littered with small stones, prettily shining under the sunlight each time. Mingi’s fingers flexed for a second, tightening around the pen he was holding, and I watched as he started tapping the table, a low humming sound coming from his lips. I blinked as I realized what I had been doing, memorizing every bend of his fingers, every line and any scar decorating it, storing their shape and length deep in my mind for the time when I would have to recall it in order to draw his hands. In the process of all this, I couldn’t help but also notice that his hands seemed rather big, they would probably engulf mine nicely. The thought made me lightly flush as I remembered us holding hands in his car after we shared some personal stuff, and I shook my head lightly, trying to get rid of the memory. There was a light shuffle as Mingi cleared his throat, making me very slowly drag my eyes up, until they fell on his face. More particularly on his sharp and small eyes, which were on me, his eyebrows raised curiously as a smug smile seemed to be plastered on his lips. Fuck. I would’ve face palmed myself if it wasn’t for Mingi watching me, so, instead, I tried to flash him my best poker face while I totally, and absolutely, flushed red in embarrassment.

“Were you…” Mingi pursed his lips, narrowing his eyes playfully, “checking me out?”

“Like hell I was.” I snapped with a loud huff, definitely way too fast.

“Oh, you weren’t?” Mingi feigned confusion, “But—damn, then I must be mistaken. You certainly weren’t like…totally ogling my face and then salivating after my hands, right?”

As if to prove a point, he wriggled his fingers, making me clench my jaw as I forced a pathetic excuse of a laugh out of myself, giving him an unimpressed expression, “I wasn’t checking you out nor any of those things you just said—”

“Are you like, really sure?” Mingi huffed, tapping his lips in an annoying manner, “Because now you’re making me feel crazy—”

“Oh my God,” I exclaimed exasperated, eyes widening as I huffed at Mingi, “fine, I was looking at your hands, but before it gets to your head, bro, I just simply think guys painting their nails is hot, okay?”

There was a long pause, Mingi’s eyes boring into mine as a smirk made its way on his lips, looking all smug and pleased with himself, “So…”

I gulped nervously as he suddenly pushed his chair slightly back, and started leaning in towards me, the look taunting on his face, “You think I’m hot?”

“Not you.” I snapped, glaring at him, “That’s not what I said—”

“But you indirectly admitted that I’m hot—”

“No, Mingi. I didn’t admit anything, God, this is why I don’t talk to you.” I huffed and pushed my chair back, feeling uncomfortable as he was siting so close to me, making me gulp nervously. I quickly stood from my chair and went to walk to get my backpack, but Mingi quickly reached out and grabbed my wrist.

“Where are you going?” He asked, smugness and smirk gone from his face. I rolled my eyes at him, but didn’t pull my wrist out of his grip.

“Home, obviously.” I huffed, and Mingi very gently pushed me back towards the chair, making me sit in it.

“Let me finish this up, and we’re leaving.” He quickly turned and went back to clicking away on his computer, pursing his lips as with his left hand he closed his notebook, throwing the pen absentmindedly on his desk. I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms in front of my chest, but didn’t say anything else, waiting for him to do whatever he needed to do before we would finally leave. Some fresh air would certainly serve well for a wakeup call.

            The light drizzle had turned into rain after we’ve reached Mingi’s car and waited for the engine to warm up a bit. Mingi wasn’t as embarrassed about it as last time, and I found myself feeling the need to reassure him that I didn’t give a shit whether his car was a fucking rocket or a simple carriage, as long as it was safe to drive and shielded us from the rain. Perhaps it was one of the very few times when I heard Mingi’s rich laughter, his head thrown back against the headrest and mouth wide open as he repeatedly hit the wheel, prompting me to match his laughter until my stomach hurt and I had to ask him to stop, unable to breathe anymore as tears sprung into my eyes. The radio was playing softly in the background, neither of us actually paying attention to it as Mingi had asked about my art class, inquiring about the painting I was currently working on. I briefed him about it as we had taken off, the rain making it rather hard to see well, but Mingi was a careful driver and he didn’t speed at all, being extra careful as the wipers of the car were placed on the fastest setup, the rain hitting the car loudly, making us raise our voices in order to be able to hear each other well.

“I assume you know Wooyoung and Seulgi are on a date.” Mingi spoke up as we had stopped at a red light, people running as they crossed the road, umbrellas doing almost nothing to shield them from the harsh rain anymore.

“Yeah, I hope they chose to go somewhere indoors, this rain is merciless.” Mingi chuckled, but nodded his head in agreement, leaning his head against the headrest. The cars in the lane to our left took off, their traffic light having turned green.

“Wooyoung mentioned about them going to the cinema, or at least that’s what he had in mind two days ago.” Mingi explained, shifting into first gear as the light turned green for us.

“Seulgi said something about a new place opening up where you could paint pottery while enjoying their delicacies.” I said in thought, wondering which one they have chosen.

“We should go there sometime,” Mingi took a right turn, mindful of the pedestrians and the huge puddles on the side of the road, “just the two of us.”

I hummed, thinking about it for a second before I looked at Mingi, “Sure.”

“Sure? Did you just say sure?” Mingi’s voice slightly raised and I chuckled, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, I said sure.” I repeated, Mingi’s mouth falling open.

“Did you just agree to going out with me?!” Mingi almost exclaimed, making me snort as I looked away, focusing on the road ahead.

“You didn’t ask me out.” I corrected.

“But I still could.” Mingi quickly said, making me shake my head with a small smile.

“Anyways, I hope Wooyoung makes his move soon.” I sighed, rubbing my forehead tiredly, “I’ve had enough of listening to Seulgi whine about how much she’s into him, but is confused of what Wooyoung wants.”

Mingi chuckled as he took a left turn, driving off the main road, barely three blocks away from my neighborhood, “Good to know I was right.”

I looked at him again curiously, and he quickly explained himself, “I’ve been telling Wooyoung she was into him, but he never believed me. He did say he’d ask her out today, but knowing Wooyoung…he might chicken out, again.”

I chuckled, amused by these two idiots, “Well, knowing Seulgi, she won’t chicken out. She also planned on asking Wooyoung out today.”

Mingi laughed, turning left, slowing down as he drove down my street, looking for my house closely. I smiled subconsciously and undid my seatbelt, planning to help him out by pointing my house out to him, but I didn’t have to. He was quick to come to a stop in front of it, placing the gear in neutral. He turned his head and looked at me, smiling, “Arrived.”

“Yeah.” I whispered and grabbed my backpack, looking out the window, eyebrows furrowing at the sudden downpour, the car’s windshield wiper good for nothing at this point, “Damn, why is it raining so hard?”

“I hate it.” Mingi whined as he looked ahead too, lips jutting out in a pout, “I can’t even drive home now.”

“Yeah, you shouldn’t.” I agreed as my eyebrows furrowed, “It’s not safe at all.”

“Yeah,” Mingi sighed and turned the engine off, undoing his seatbelt, “I’ll just wait for it to settle down, and then I’ll drive home.”

“Yeah, you should do that.” I agreed, looking at him, the rain hitting the roof of Mingi’s old Honda Prelude loud, “And text me when you get home, so that I know you’re safe.”

Mingi’s cheeks flushed, but just ever so slightly, and my eyes widened as he tried to avoid eye contact the more persistent I became, “Yeah, uh, I will. Promise I won’t forget this time.”

“You better,” I chuckled, rolling my eyes remembering all the times he would forget to text me that he had gotten to his destination safely, “I’m going now.”

“Okay.” Mingi’s head turned and we made eye contact for a second, before I offered him a small smile and pushed the door open, springing out of his car. It didn’t even take a minute for me to be completely drenched by the rainwater as I very quickly slammed Mingi’s door shut, gasping as my clothes got instantly soaked, hair sticking to my head. I turned and took off towards my house, running, but realizing it didn’t matter since I was already soaked. Well, so much for Mingi driving me home to save me from the freezing cold downpour. As I reached the middle of the driveway, I dared to take a peek at the sky, realizing that the almost black clouds looked menacing, and God knows when they’d pass, when the rain would stop. I stopped and turned, looking towards Mingi’s car as I bit my lower lip, having to blink my eyes fast to be able to see something. No car was driving down the roads anymore, no person out on the streets. What if the rain wouldn’t stop at all? It’s happened before, not even once. Would Mingi stay out in the car? He wouldn’t be able to leave if that were the case. Taking a deep breath, I made my decision as I raced back to his car, yanking the door open as I leaned down, Mingi’s wide eyes falling on my soaked form.

“Come inside, who knows when it’ll stop raining.” I called out loudly over the sound of the rain and the sudden rumble of the sky, making me shiver. I hated the thunder perhaps more than the flashing lightning. Mingi opened his mouth, probably to refuse my offer, but I didn’t leave room for him to argue, “Come on!”

And as I slammed the door shut again, he was out of the car in a second, closing his own door and locking his car quite clumsily, exclaiming as he got soaked in seconds, just like myself. I laughed as I took off towards the house, Mingi racing after me, giggling loudly as we reached the front steps of the porch, both shivering as I struggled to grab my keys out of my pocket.

“Oh my God, this sucks!” Mingi exclaimed just as another thunder shook the ground, and I jumped, throwing a glare towards the sky. Mingi saw it and chuckled, urging me to unlock the door, “Doll, I’m freezing my ass off, please open the door!”

“Who’s the drenched puppy kicked to the curb now, huh?” I asked with a teasing grin as I unlocked the front door, pushing it open. Mingi chuckled and rolled his eyes, but not before playfully pushing me forward, urging me on to step inside the house first.

We could only hope the downpour would stop soon enough.

❱❱ Next chapter

[clovermae]

Taking Chances

🍀 Pairing: Sugawara Koushi x gender-neutral!Reader

🍀 Genre: Fluff

🍀 Word Count: 911

🍀 A/N: Posted on AO3 here! And inspired by this TikTok! Takes place during the training camp arc! Enjoy! 💚

“Come on Suga, you’re the last one up here. Let’s go eat,” you call out from halfway up the hill, a towel in one hand and a chilled bottle of water in the other.

“‘m tired, Y/N,” he huffs, chest heaving up and down as he tries to steady his ragged breathing.

“And that’s exactly why you need to eat. Let’s go.” A few moments pass, and Suga shows no signs of moving. You sigh and trudge to the top of the hill. A slope like this is nothing under normal circumstances, but with the hot sun beaming on your skin in this blistering summer heat, you find yourself struggling to reach your destination.

“Wow,” you pant, “You all are amazing, being able to run up this hill all day today.”

“You don’t have to rub it in,” Suga mumbles, tilting his head just enough to flash a pout in your direction. You chuckle and approach his exhausted figure, crouching to pass over the towel and water. “Thank you.” A single bead of water trickles down the side of his mouth as he gulps down the cool liquid.

With a hefty sigh, his eyes focus on the drifting clouds— some fluffy, some wispy, all glowing in front of the setting sun.

“Lay with me Y/N.”

“Huh?”

“Here.” He pats the empty patch of grass next to him, a tranquil expression on his face. Until his lips twist into a smirk, and his suddenly playful eyes rest upon your tense figure. “What did you think I meant?”

“N-nothing.” It never ceases to amaze you— the way Suga is able to fluster you in one swift motion. You feel a familiar warmth spread through your body. Whether it’s from the weather or his actions is beyond you.

The warm grass tickles your tense figure as you stretch out next to him. Despite the many thoughts swarming in your mind, the atmosphere is comfortable. The assaulting sun begins its descent, leaving an orange glow in its wake. The song of the cicadas is replaced by the soft chirping of crickets. The blistering heat is ushered away by a cool wind. The chatter from the camp fades as they all retreat to the dining hall.

All that remains is you and Suga.

Your heart flutters at the thought, and you cast a glance to see any indication of how he may be feeling. His breathing finally steadies out, eyes closed, seemingly taking in the nice weather. You don’t miss the furrow in his brow, his tight grasp on both the towel and the grass, and the way his lips are pulled into a thin line.

“Gah, I’m so frustrated!” he groans into the air, shattering the quiet settled between the two of you. “I always hit Asahi whenever his bad vibes come out, but sometimes they’re hard to ignore.” You hum to let him know you’re listening. “The Spring Tournament. It’s our last chance to make it to Nationals. We can’t just rely on the first years. I need to get stronger.”

“You’ll get there Suga. You have to be patient.”

“I hope so.” His eyes flutter open again with a wisp of worry laced in them. His empty hand fists the grass in between you. “But what if I don’t? What if all this effort is for nothing and we remain nothing but fallen crows?”

This is the first time Suga has been honest with his feelings. Your heart swells with joy knowing he trusts you enough to be this vulnerable.

How should you respond to this situation, you think to yourself. You consider hitting him as he does Asahi. You also consider offering simple, comforting words. And then your mind drifts elsewhere, causing your heart rate to spike once more.

This chance will never come again. There’s no waiting for the perfect moment. You have to create it.

With a trembling hand, you slide your fingers across the seemingly infinite space until your fingertips brush against his. You hear a gasp fall from his lips as your fingers graze the mountain of his thumb until it settles on the back of his hand. You can’t bring yourself to see his reaction, fearing the worse. Your nervous gaze darts to the trees facing the opposite direction of him.

All the words you wished to say before are gone in the blink of an eye. The thoughts in your brain are far too incoherent— too scrambled— and everything seems to fade, save for the warmth beneath your palm. But even that is swallowed up by the regret encasing your quivering and retreating body.

At this moment you want to run away.

A faint chuckle rings in the air. You finally have the courage to glimpse at Suga, who grins in your direction. His hand flips underneath yours, gingerly tangling your fingers together.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

With those words, the storm surrounding you both has disappeared, leaving behind a rainbow of happiness in its wake. The smile on your face matches his and you both settle into the cozy silence between you two.

“We should probably go soon shouldn’t we?”

“I’d like to stay here just a little longer, if that’s okay with you.”

“Yeah. I’d like that.” With your eyes locked and hands joined, neither of you have the will nor desire to pull away, basking in the sweet aftermath of the risk you took.

Taking chances isn’t so scary after all.

[whimsicalwritingsandmore]

Valentine's Series #6: Love Language | mingi x reader

Pairing: song mingi x reader

Genre: fluff, romance

Summary: While learning languages together, Mingi realizes he has truly fallen for you.

Word Count: 540 words

Since moving to Korea and meeting Mingi, both of you decided to study together in order to better understand and communicate with each other. You were able to communicate fairly well but there was still a long way to go.

He would come over to your place most evenings or on the weekend, and the two of you would spend a few hours studying together in a peaceful and tranquil space.

It was during these times, Mingi found himself falling more and more in love with you. When you were deeply engrossed in your worksheet, Mingi would sneak a glance at your studious figure and observe you in a subtle way. He made note of a few things: first, the way you would prop your head in your hand and study the material while mindlessly tapping away your pen on the table now and again. Secondly, you would mumble to yourself while learning and underline your notes a few times as a method of trying to absorb and retain the information. Thirdly, when you realised you were slouching, you would straighten your figure and move closer to the workbook being mindful of your posture. These were just a few things Mingi took notice of, and these were a few things from his list that made him more enthralled by you.

You were diligent and resourceful, and Mingi enjoyed coming over when he could because you would prepare tasty treats and a comfortable study space. It felt like a safe space and you being yourself provided him a sense of warmth and comfort, away from his busy life otherwise.

Recognising he was indeed falling in love with you, on Valentine's Day, he decided to take you out for a nice treat to show you not just how much you meant to him but also, how grateful and thankful he was for all you did and continued to do. After spending some time studying, the two of you headed out for dinner in the late afternoon.

While at dinner, you conversed with the waiter in Korean to order your meal, and Mingi felt deeply armoured with listening to you speak. You worked hard to learn the language and he could see the glimmer in your eyes when you successfully placed the order.

He didn’t even realise that he was smiling goofily at you until you asked him how his studying was coming along.

Mingi blushed because it was now or never to finally confess what he was hiding in his heart.

"Want to hear what I learnt in english today?"

"Yeah?"

"I learnt a phrase,” he explained, “But I’m too scared to say it.”

“You don’t have to be shy around me,” you encouragingly and sweetly answered, “Take your time.”

As you smiled softly at him, Mingi found himself entranced by your affection.

“I,” he began to say, “I love you.”

Upon hearing Mingi’s confession, you began answering in a series of tongue-twisters, none really making any sense and ended up blushing bashfully and hiding your face in your hands so he could not see how red you were turning.

He did see though, and when you composed yourself and said it back to him, he too turned red like a tomato.