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01zfan · 24 hours ago

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glasses pt. 3

nerd!eunseok x reader | 7.5k words

the third installment to a well liked seriez. this couple is loved by me and so many other people. thank you to my dearie who commissioned me to write this. i got a little carried away (per usual). i hope it's to your liking heh and sorry for making oyu wait forever.

contains: eunseok plotting on the reader a lil, protected sex, fingering, oral sex (female and male receiving)

glasses: one | two | three

You didn’t tell Yunjin and Giselle about your visit to Eunseok’s until two weeks later. When you told them to guess what happened when you went over to his place after class they faked contemplation before answering in a second.

“He played on his computer while you were whoring out on his bed.” Giselle said.

“And he didn't even notice?” Yunjin added.

You had smug look on your face and in a second Giselle and Yunjin were looking at you with wide eyes. They leaned forward over their lunch trays to your side of the booth as you leaned backwards. You crossed your arms and Giselle and Yunjin looked to eachother before looking back to you.

“You’re fucking lying.” Giselle said.

“There’s no way.” Yunjin says.

You shrug to your friends skeptical faces, and then they were gasping so loud you had to preemptively shush them with a finger to your lips.

“You actually fucked him?” Giselle asks.

Giselle’s eyebrows are raised like she can’t quite believe it. Something about your friends doubting the idea of you and Eunseok getting together makes you want to defend him more. You remember Giselle and Yunjin saying he didn’t have it in him, that he didn’t like you to begin with.

“He actually fucked me.” You say, shrugging your shoulders.

Yes you may have been playing it up to your friends. By your groups standards, you were definitely the one who fucked him. He was the one who came first (both times), the one you made the move on, the one you instructed. But they were doubting you and the man you had grown fond of. Stretching the truth a little wasn’t a problem. Eunseok was desperate to please and was red all the way down to his stomach, and he genuinely looked mortified when he realized you didn’t finish. He was a person after all, and he was one of the few men you felt fond of outside the idea of having sex. He was so oblivious to your advances but rose to the challenge as soon as he could. You had your fun with him, and seeing the shocked looks and slacked jaws of your friends made you laugh.

“No fucking way.” Giselle said.

You nodded your head and threw up your hands to really sell it. Giselle and Yunjin were giggling like schoolgirls in front of you repeating how they didn’t know he had it in him. You spared them the details, like his friends hearing him moan over voice chat and how he was packing underneath all those baggy clothes. They were still reeling off the fact that you made it past putting out signals and him missing every single one.

“Have you seen him since?” Yunjin asked.

That’s when you shake your head. Before you can tell your friends that you haven’t been sitting in the same spot in class for two weeks or have been skipping the class all together, Yunjin and Giselle both look over your shoulder before tilting their heads to the side. Giselle looks at you and smiles, Yunjin starts looking at her plate.

“He’s coming over here.” Yunjin says under her breath.

You turn your body in the booth seat, desperately trying to not look over your shoulder but to also confirm who the he is. Certainly it’s not the same he who you were talking about seconds ago. He never comes to the cafe, instead cooking the same meal over and over in his dorm or ordering takeout. The only time you’ve seen him eating in the cafe was on the rare occasion he would join his friend.

But Eunseok was alone. He was alone and taking strides towards your lunch table, hand gripping the strap of his backpack. You stayed still in your seat, fulling eyeing him before turning to face your friends.

“Is he actually coming over here?” You ask, confused.

Although you’ve talked about Eunseok plenty to Giselle and Yunjin, they’ve never met. At most, they had built a relationship of crossing paths and awkward snatches of conversation. You walking with Giselle and Yunjin and calling out to Eunseok just to wave at him. Your unamused friends waving to not be rude and Eunseok waving back because he didn’t know what else to do. Trying to rope him into a conversation with your friends where he would avoid eye contact before making up a terrible excuse about needing to go to his next class.

Your friends had seen you a couple times before or after class when you’d be bothering Eunseok. You’re almost certain they’ve never exchanged words beyond the awkward hey and Eunseok avoiding eye contact. They’d tell him you that Eunseok was weird, but you’d tell him he was just shy. Once you really get to know him he’s a sweetheart, just a sweetheart who avoids conversation whenever he can. So it’s weird, seeing him barrel towards a conversation he doesn’t have to have with new people he’s barely met. But he’s determined, not stopping as Giselle nods her head to your question.

“He’s coming over here.” Giselle said.

Then, as if on cue, Eunseok’s steps started to falter. People pass by him, on their way back to the food for seconds or heading outside of the dining hall altogether. You, Yunjin, and Giselle don’t speak. Three pairs of eyes stare at him, you’re all still watching his next move. His steps get a little slower, Eunseok turns to nod to someone when they apologize for bumping into him.

A quick glance backwards showed that he hesitated, then looked around, then he started moving with the traffic of people leaving to make a beeline for the vending machines.

“He’s no longer coming over here.” Yunjin said.

You waved your hands in front of your friends quickly, trying to get their attention away from Eunseok and back at you. Now it was you leaning over the table, making them come forward to hear you.

“That’s because you guys are staring at him.” You seethe underneath your breath.

Giselle further proved your point by carelessly looking over your shoulder, staring at Eunseok looking at the terribly curated selection of chips and snacks. After a second she’s already seen enough, looking at you.

“He’s fake browsing the vending machine.” She deadpans.

Yunjin laughs, finally starting to eat her food. She spares a less obvious glance over her shoulder, a smile on her lips when she turns back to you.

“I think he’s waiting for you.” She says.

You swear you can see Eunseok’s ears turn pink as he presses his hand to the glass of the vending machine. He leans close, tilting his head and moving like he’s really trying to sell the fact that he’s considering buying something. You feel embarrassed that you find him obviously waiting so cute, even when your friends look at you like they can’t believe it. There’s no way the man that allegedly put it down on you two weeks ago is too afraid to walk over and say hi.

“Watch my stuff for me, please?” You ask your friends.

Yunjin and Giselle both ooh and aah at you quietly as you get up from the table. You have to wave your hands for them to be quiet again, and you start walking towards Eunseok. His back is turned towards you, and you know your appearance doesn’t matter. Whatever you do would have him blushing and avoiding eye contact all the same. Still, you find yourself making sure your shirt is falling just right on your body, your hair is laying the way it’s supposed to, and you’re clearing your throat to get ready to talk.

When you make it to the vending machine, Eunseok is still fake browsing. He’s looking at nothing but everything at the same time, pretending like you didn’t surprise him even though he jumps in his skin when he catches you in the reflection of the glass. The fluorescent lighting in the machine shows your reflection, and you can see Eunseok quickly glance to the side before you do the same thing. You find yourself starting to fake browse too, running over the assortment of snacks you don’t even like.

People leaving the dining hall pass behind the two of you. No one is coming up to the machine, neither of you are making a purchase. Just looking past the glass, waiting for the other to say something first.

“I didn’t see you at class today.” Eunseok says.

The Oreo’s look tempting. You don’t remember the last time you tried Sun Chips.

“Just felt like playing hooky I guess.” You say.

You’re both still locked in on the vending machines. Atleast you don’t have to worry about a line, because no one bothers to waste their time or money to get stale snacks. They also don’t want to gamble either, because these machines are notorious for stealing your cash and not giving you anything in return. You still have the five dollar meal voucher from the lunch lady when it ate your money your first year. But still, maybe an expired Cliff Bar is worth it.

“You didn’t miss much.” Eunseok says. “Just the usual lecture stuff. There’s an assignment due tomorrow, though.”

You hum in acknowledgment, as if you both don’t know that you’ve already seen it. Eunseok has stated the obvious, because you know that he knows you’re not helpless in that class. The Orbit Gum tablets are calling your name in the bottom row. You bring your fingers over the button, before you can take the gamble and insert your five dollar bill you change your mind again.

“Wanna come over?” Eunseok asks.

Your hand freezes. The invitation makes you turn towards Eunseok, who’s still mindlessly staring ahead. You have never been on the receiving end of an invitation from him. Whenever you’ve ended up at his apartment it’s always been you inviting yourself over, taking advantage of the fact that he’s never told you no. Two weeks ago you told yourself you’d take a step back from being overbearing. You might’ve clung to him too hard, bothered him too much in class when he was trying to focus. Interrupting his games too woo him, invading his space since the semester started, disrupting the peace he created for himself.

Hearing that he wants you over is different. Knowing that he has enjoyed you sitting on his bed and bothering him makes you feel like you’ve done something right. Another thing you find comforting is that Eunseok still stares forward, pretending like you’re not there. He’s nervous too, but you’ve never said no to him either.

You know Giselle and Yunjin are watching. You’re sure they’re full on peering over the edge of the booth, shamelessly looking to see what the nerd is saying to their bestfriend. You have something to maintain with them and Eunseok alike, you’re not sure what but you must maintain it. So even when you feel like your chest is about to explode you move forward to be in his line of sight, peering up at him.

His hand is tight around his backpack strap again, you can see the blush across his cheeks. Looking at his glasses takes you back to when they were resting on your flushed face, obscuring your vision while he fixed them crooked with shaking wet hands. You admire that he holds eye contact with you, even through him clearing his throat and his pupils shaking.

“Why do you want me to come over?” You ask.

Eunseok pushes his frames up with his other hand. You have to cross your arms to hide the fact you’re pinching your sides in an attempt to ground yourself. Why are you so much more nervous now than you were on the edge of his bed two weeks ago? The lack of contact since then must be the reason. The fact that you two are both trying to seem unbothered while clearly being bothered must also be another reason. Giselle and Yunjin watching just a few feet away is the terrible cherry on top.

“I got a drone.” He says.

When you accepted Eunseok’s invitation and half-assed reason for wanting you over you bounded back to the table like nothing happened. They both imitated how Eunseok was apparently shaking like a leaf while you remained calm and collected. You told them that Eunseok wanted to show you his new drone and they laughed. They laughed at the both of you, because Eunseok was inviting a pretty girl over to play with his new toy and they laughed at you because you accepted it. Giselle remained steadfast in her belief that you were going over there just to play with his drone. Yunjin told you that he wasn’t going to make a move. You excused yourself from dinner quickly, saying you were full before they could get another word in.

Eunseok was already home by the time you made it to his apartment. You had to take a detour to your place, then a detour to the side of his building to give yourself an impromptu pep talk. There was something riding on you meeting this time after two weeks of radio silence. Things felt less at stake when Eunseok didn’t know or pretended to not know what you wanted from him. Now that you were knocking on his door after sex and two weeks of pretending like the sex didn’t happen you were nervous.

Usually you had to wait outside his door. He always acted like you were going to recant your invitation, and you had to wait for a break in his games for him to come to you. This time when you knocked on the door you heard things moving, and his rushed steps on the other side. He opened the door a crack and then all the way, presenting his apartment to you like you hadn’t seen it before.

“You came quick.” Eunseok says.

“I really wanted to see your drone.” You reply.

It’s hard to sound enthusiastic. You’ve been overthinking since the dining hall and you’re not entirely sure the drone even exists. You’re just looking at Eunseok looking at you, nodding before he moves out of the way to let you into the apartment.

When he lets you inside, the first thing you notice is the couch. The first piece of non-bed and non-loveseat furniture takes up space in the living room and the television sits on an actual stand instead of the floor. There’s a coffee table too, another place people can eat food on besides standing at the counter in the kitchen or his gaming desk.

“It’s like a real person lives here now, Seok.” You say when he closes the door behind you.

Eunseok takes the teasing with a distracted laugh. He’s almost fidgety navigating his space, walking around in bee lines instead of his usual straight path. He walks around you, then the couch, then the coffee table, then his kitchen before he makes it to the counter. You watched his nervous path, all the way until he made it to his drone.

He looked at his newest toy before looking to you, his fingers tapping on the table. He wanted you to say something, you’re sure of it. The drone is cool, and you can tell Eunseok thinks it’s cool too by the way he set it up on his kitchen counter so it’d be the first thing you’d see. He made sure to turn it so the front was facing you, and the complex remote was right next to it. Like he was trying to tempt you to reach forward and grab the remote without asking.

“You actually got a drone.” You say.

Eunseok nods before reaching for the remote. He’s pushing on knobs and levers, and almost instantly the drone starts hovering above the kitchen counter. You back up by instinct but Eunseok starts smiling, so boyish and happy as he commands his newest toy around. He flies it around the small space of his kitchen, above and over him so he can turn around and follow it.

The two of you watch in silence and let the whirring of the fans fill the room. Eunseok is already an expert, flying it around the living room and avoiding the fan. He flies it around your tense body and over the couch. He follows it and you watch him, and he turns back to you to show you all of his tricks. He makes the drone flip and fly upside down, then he makes it move side to side quickly. He narrowly misses his new curtains and the corner of the television, but the drone is still in one piece when he makes it land perfectly in the middle of the coffee table. He sits down on the couch the same time the drone lands.

When he’s down he looks over the top of the couch to you, eyes bright with that smile still across his face. You smile with him, you can’t help it as you circle the couch to sit on the other end.

“That was cool.” Eunseok smiles even more, nodding his head proudly. “Why’d you get it?” You ask.

You try to sound as nonjudgemental as possible. You didn’t think of Eunseok to be a big spender, outside of the skins for the games he’s talked your ear off about and the manga collection lining his shelves. Outside of that, Eunseok is frugal. He buys things he needs, rarely thinking about what he wants. Sitting on a couch with space for more than one personal is already abnormal, and looking at his television rest on a TV stand rather than the floor is weird to. You also believe he doesn’t go outside nearly enough to get a drone. You think this is similar to an indoor cat getting a harness, or a man who values his life getting a motorcycle.

He shrugs his shoulders. He looks at the drone and then his remote.

“Just wanted it.” Eunseok messes with the controller a little more, gripping it in his hands before he offers it to you. “Wanna try?” He asks.

Eunseok has never been greedy of his belongings, he was never the type to hate sharing. But he’s never had to consider it. He’s lived alone his entire adult life, and even as a child he never had to share. Even when he offered you the remote it was awkward, half placing it in your lap before you even considered taking it.

“I don’t know how to fly a drone.” You say.

That got him excited. He’s scooting to your end of the couch quickly, he’s already ushering the remote into your hands. You take it and Eunseok’s thigh is touching yours, his hand is ghosting over yours as he points to a dial.

“Just push that.” Eunseok gets a little closer, his other hand comes close to actually touching yours. But he keeps a distance, pointing to the other side of the remote to a switch. “Press that at the same time.” He instructs.

This reminds you of something. You’re timid pressing both of the switches at the same time, afraid of doing something wrong. The fear of breaking Eunseok’s newest toy almost makes you want to hand the remote back to him, but he’s urging you to do it and arguably looks more excited for you to use his toy than he was. Even when the drone wobbles on the hover he’s smiling. He follows the drone up, and points at another lever below your finger.

“Press that to make it move side to side.”

You do as your told, and both you and Eunseok watch the shaky drone follow your movements. Left and right, a little diagonal when you accidentally take your finger off of the switch. Eunseok leans more into the couch as you get used to it, and his hand that was ghosting over yours goes to rest on the back of the couch behind your body. He gets a little closer to you and he pulls his leg into his lap.

You try to focus on the drone as you feel Eunseok start to caress your shoulder. His hand was hesitant at first, a clenched fist resting on the back of the couch before he finally spread out his palm and let his first finger touch you. He makes it hard for you to focus flying this thing when he fully clasps over your shoulder, rubbing it gently. He also makes it hard to focus because he pretends he’s not touching you, even when you can feel the sweat on his palm. Eunseok points at the drone with his other hand when it starts to get a little too shaky, then to the remote clutched in your hands.

“You have to press both of them at the same time.” He says.

You follow his instructions, until his drone comes closer and closer to the coffee table. The dismount is rough, you clench your teeth at terrible thought of breaking Eunseok’s precious drone. He doesn’t react the same. He continues holding your shoulder even when the controller for the drone rests awkwardly on your lap.

“Eunseok, I really like your drone. I really do think it’s cool but—”

“I want you to stay.” He says quickly.

“You want me to stay?” You ask.

There’s only been two times Eunseok has directly expressed that he wants you to continue invading his space. The first was right before he came in your mouth two weeks ago, and the second was now. He’s just desperate enough when he says it, his hands still holding your shoulder and the other moves to grab the remote from your lap. The words slipped out before he could figure out how to calmly say it, if he was going to say it at all.

“Why do you want me to stay?”

You watch Eunseok try so hard to keep eye contact with you. The way his flat hair is tucked underneath his glasses is cute. He’s due for a haircut too, because it’s getting to the length where it stats covering his eyes and he starts making subtle complaints about it.

“Because I haven’t seen you in so long.”

“You see me nearly everyday.” You push your luck further, trying to see how far you can get Eunseok to go. He already told you he wants you here, he’s already told you he missed you. You let your hand travel to his thigh, right where his basketball shorts rode up to reveal his skin. He’s warm already, he even freezes underneath your touch. “But I’m here. Right now.” You look at Eunseok, and see the rosy tint already appearing on his cheeks. You start tracing the beginning of a pattern, and you look at the crown of his head to see strands of hair sticking up. ”Seok.”

“Take your shirt off.”

He spoke fast. His order fell from his lips and stayed in the air, the two of you eyeing eachother trying to figure out if what you heard was real. Eunseok’s eyes are wide, yours are still blinking as you try to process what’s happening. Not only did he approach you in the dining hall he never eats at, and share things with you he’s never shared with you before, but now he’s telling you what to do when he’s always let you do things to him. Everything from today leaves your hand frozen on his leg and your lips parted.

You can tell Eunseok shocked himself. The blush on his neck gives him away, and the fact that he’s holding your shoulder makes it seem like it’s for comfort more than anything else. He’s going to recant his order at any moment, or profusely apologize for reading this situation wrong. Before his lip can twitch you let your hands go to the bottom of your shirt too fast, pulling it over your head and then tossing it to the ground. Your shirt ends up crumbled next to the drone on the coffee table, and you settle back into the couch. Eunseok’s arm is still along the back of the couch, and his eyes are even wider.

You’re sure you still match his frazzled expression. The same Eunseok that struggled to hold eye contact when you first met him is told you what to do. You put your hands on your knees and sit up straighter, doing everything except verbally telling him how ready you are to listen.

He’s slow getting up from the couch. He hesitates for a moment before standing in front of you. On his couch you tilt your head up until it’s uncomfortable, until you can him look down at you and push his glasses up with a timid hand. His body is so close to you. His baggy shirt frames the broadness of his shoulders, leaving everything else about him to the imagination. You’re in your bra and pants, looking up to him waiting for what’s next.

He reaches his hand to you but you stay still. He lets his hand go to the tip of your head, gliding down until he touches your cheek. His hand moves to your arm then your back, pulling you closer and you lean into his touch fully. He’s holding your shoulders, your eyes almost start to cross from keeping them open for so long. You don’t want to miss a single thing. The way he pulls at you, the way his shirt moves in front of you, the way he parts his lips just to close them before he brings himself to say something.

“Get on your knees.” He whispers.

He’s still looking at you wide eyed like he can’t believe the orders are falling from his mouth. He stutters, but you don’t hesitate when you start sliding off the couch. When Eunseok slowly puts the remote control down on the coffee table you listen, melting fully off the couch to rest on your knees. You’re timid getting into place, the most jumpy you’ve ever been in Eunseok’s presence.

He’s the same way he was in his gaming chair, nearly shaking as he settles in front of you. The scene is awkward. Eunseok doesn’t know what to do now that he’s lead you half naked to the ground, and you don’t want to do anything to scare him out of whatever mood he’s found himself in. From avoided looks in class to being ordered to your knees you’ve made it too far to ruin it now. You’re overexerting yourself to show Eunseok how good you’re being. Hands folded on top of your thighs, perfect posture, looking up at him with everything you got. The blush creeps to his cheeks as his glasses slide down his nose. You watch Eunseok’s hands wrap around the belt of his pants.

“Can I—”

You nod before he can even finish. You find yourself wanting him to not ask for a single thing. He lets out a silent exhale and starts undoing the perfect bow, the sound of the laces rubbing against eachother makes you shuffle on your knees. You let out an exhale when Eunseok lets go of the loose waistband, letting it pool at his feet. He wasn’t wearing underwear, the baggy shorts hid how he was really feeling about the situation. Your hands ball into fists and you try so hard to keep eye contact, but you can stop yourself from looking down at him.

The quick look up you can see Eunseok impatiently pushing his frames into place. He keeps his thumb underneath the rim and a hand slowly goes to his dick, shuffling forward to your kneeling body. His hand doesn’t leave his glasses until he brings them to your mouth, poking and pinching your sensitive lips.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you.” He says.

Your hands go to Eunseok’s thighs when he starts dragging his hand up and down his dick. He slows down you give him small nods, letting him know you hear him and you need to see it.

When he starts working his hand again, the sight is unreal. Seeing Eunseok give you a sneak peak of what he does in his time alone makes your mouth water. His hands were barely involved last time, nervously touching you only after you gave him explicit invitations to each time. Now he was skillfully jerking himself off, massaging his tip and letting precum glisten between his fingers.

“I keep thinking about you too.” You say.

Although it seems like you’re saying anything just to appease him, it’s the truth. Like you’re playing the worst game of poker ever, you don’t try to hide anything. You can’t decide if you’ll focus on his hand touching himself or his eyes staring down at you, so you do both. The desperation is palpable, the way you keep fixing your gaze is obvious. You remember how his glasses blurred your vision last time you were in this position with him, and he starts working his hand a little faster at the sound of your voice.

“You’re so pretty.” Eunseok’s head tilts back when he squeezes himself tighter and you want to cry from the loss of eye contact. He starts fucking his hand and you shuffle forward and touch him so he’ll look down at you again.

“You’re so hot.” His hand still plays with your mouth, two fingers working past your lips to press down hard on your tongue and bottom row of teeth. The intrusion makes saliva collect in your mouth and your jaw parts, making your words sound even more pathetic as they’re slightly gargled. “You don’t even know.” You say.

“You keep telling me that.” He groans quietly.

Eunseok looks down at you again and he presses harder. Your mouth is open the perfect amount, and he stops touching himself to hold his dick steady at the base. Before you can shuffle forward again he taps your lips with his leaking tip. You can feel the slick precum already beginning to chill on your bottom lip. When you stick your tongue out Eunseok taps his tip there too, groaning at the feeling of your warm tongue flat against him. You’re shocked that this was the same Eunseok nervous to even let you touch him. He’s fucked out just from the motions, and he gets so lost the quick taps turn into prominent spaced out slaps. The sound of his heavy dick hitting your tongue makes you dig your nails into his thigh.

“Open up, baby.” His voice is bothered and he’s impatient, pressing your jaw even further apart down until your lips stretch. “Open up for me, please.” He says quietly.

You let his prying fingers open you up until he can slid into your mouth. Instantly he’s heavy on your tongue, and you can taste him. When you look up Eunseok’s head is tilted back, and he lets out a sigh so wrecked you’re reminded of the last time you were in this position. His hand palms your shoulder, using that as a slow guide to get you to take more of him. His head lulls every direction, and he shivers each time your tongue laves a new area.

“You’re so good at this.” He compliments.

Eunseok starts bringing his own hips forward to fuck your mouth and you hum that you know. Your words aren’t picked up, only the vibration and Eunseok moaning again fills the room.

Even when Eunseok’s hand stopped guiding your shoulders, you continued the movements. Buried in his lap, stretching your lips and jaw as you bobbed your head up and down. Each time you made a gagging sound Eunseok would moan, and his hand eventually went back to your shoulder to grip it with all his might. The pain only motivated you, and the way he was pulsing and getting harder in your mouth told you he was close. His weak whimpers above you were warning signs you were blowing straight past.

Right when Eunseok’s sounds started getting louder, he pulled you off of him. His dick bobbed in front of your face, and you quickly wiped your watery eyes to get a good look at him. Eunseok was flushed red, and bending down to be eye level with you in an instant.

You could tell something changed when Eunseok started kissing you the second time. Maybe you were still reeling from your overworked gag reflex and the taste of him on your tongue, but it was different. The way he found a slow rhythm it made you think he was doing it on purpose to trip you up. The pace he set was completely opposite of his hands that guided your shoulders. You were the one trying to catch up, not sure if you were going too fast or too slow.

When Eunseok was dragging his tongue over your top row of teeth wasn’t from inexperience, but to get you to open your mouth a little wider. He was kissing just to feel you heave impatient huffs of hot air into his mouth. When you tried turning your head to figure it out his gentle hands kept you in place, making you feel what he was doing to you. Your clutched at the bottom of his shirt hopelessly, fighting back a pitiful sound when he ran his tongue over your lips.

When Eunseok pulled back and you felt his spit cool on your face, he didn’t apologize or say that he was bad at kissing. He smirked at your glistening face and your mixed drool over lining your lips. He pulled your face back and tilted it up with fingers underneath your chin, smirking at his handiwork. The sheen caught the light and he brought you back in again, just to press his tongue against yours and watch the string of spit connect your open mouths. You didn’t know what to do. You were gormless, glazed over in the eyes as you let your face continue to be tilted by Eunseok. You didn’t even swipe your tongue over your lips to break the string. You kept your eyes on him, suddenly finding yourself waiting for what was next.

“Did I do something wrong last time you were here?” Eunseok asks.

His eyes are still on your lips, now dry and missing where they were seconds ago. You only think to talk when he looks into your eyes. You shake your head in his hand, eyebrows knitting together to show that you’re sincere.

“I had so much fun.” You say.

Eunseok stays on your lips, running his thumb over the bottom. He mindlessly plays with your face and mouth, touching you as he brings his eyes up to yours.

“You haven’t bothered me during class in awhile.” He says.

You want to deny it, but it’s the truth. You grip his shirt tighter, trying to figure out why you put off feeling like this for so long.

“I thought I came on too strong.” You grip Eunseok’s shirt and your back hits the couch. You’re still on the floor and you’re still on your knees. You embarrassingly still need more. “Thought I might’ve scared you away.”

Eunseok kissed you again, deep with his hand holding you steady. When he pulled away you’re eyes were still closed in bliss, opening up again to see his eyes blown out. You were just as wrecked as him, you could see it reflected in his lenses. He was able to see you clearly, the bleary look in your eye and how much of a mess you already were.

His hands go to the pocket of his basketball shorts, pulling out a condom in the pack you left last time. You watch him tear it with his fingers before his hands are back on you, until you were turned to face the couch. He continued handling you until your legs were spread and your top half was resting on top of the couch. He even fixed your arms until the were laying on top of the cushion, laying the foil wrapper right next to you.

You wait to feel Eunseok’s warmth as he shuffles behind you to slot his body between your legs. You wait for what feels like an eternity, suddenly too nervous to look over your shoulder and see it for yourself. Before you can whine about anything, you feel the tickle of hair on your back and then a wet kiss on your waist.

Instantly you freeze. You can feel Eunseok’s lips travel further down, and a hand on your lower back keeps you from turning to face him.

“Just stay like that.” Eunseok murmurs behind you.

When he kisses the curve of your ass you felt yourself meld into the couch. Your head is resting on the cushion, you swear you can hear your heartbeat when you press your ear into the sofa. Not knowing what’s happening behind you reminds you of the way you had Eunseok two weeks ago. You’re now in his shoes, still reeling from the dried spit on your face while he travels further down.

“Wait.” Your hand is in a panic behind you in seconds, but Eunseok can’t be phased. He grabs your hand and presses it to your lower back, his other hand grabbing your ass. He spreads you out and you whine because you’ve never been like this before, you would’ve never thought Eunseok would have you like this. There’s another wet kiss on your ass and you try to duck away. “Eunseok.”

His tongue is against your ass, then he works down lower. You’re pressing your face deeper into the couch cushion, scraping against the fabric to try and work through the feeling. It’s wet, he’s messy, he’s loud behind you. You can feel Eunseok’s tongue press into your heat timidly before he’s diving further in. His tongue prods into you, shallow laps that have you instinctually twitching away from his face. Your hand that’s still pinned to your lower back clenches and spreads out. You try not to make any noise. Like Eunseok’s got your tongue you’re just open mouthed with your eyes screwed shut. There’s no way he has you like this. There’s no way he’s spreading you further, there’s no way you can feel his finger push past into you.

“Feels good, right?” Your entire face is hot. Sweat is lining every part of you and there’s something touching your face to cause the worst kind of discomfort, but you can’t move from the spot he has you in. “You’re so tight.” He pushes your body forward when you jolt from another finger being added. “And wet.” Eunseok adds.

You don’t dare to look behind you. You can hear him situate himself behind you, sitting down and working his fingers inside of you while the other keeps you spread. Any attempt to move your hips away he follows. He doesn’t order you around anymore, accommodating to your swaying hips and your heaving pants against his new couch. You’re sure you’re drooling on his cushions, and you’re making a mess on his fingers. He keeps driving his fingers inside of you, until you’re shaking your head and reaching another panicked head backwards.

“Eunseok I think.” An effort to lift your body off the couch is thwarted when Eunseok’s hand leaves your ass to touch your clit. You’re pressed against the couch again, mouth agape. “I’m close.” You say.

For a moment Eunseok pauses. Just before you rapidly decline from the peak he goes back to the pace he set, constant and grueling and stimulating that drool starts slipping down your chin.

“Really?” He sounds amazed, like everything about what he was doing to you wasn’t calculated. Like he’s just playing with another toy, surprised that you are feeling any sort of pleasure. You nod immediately, and thee quickest look back you can see Eunseok let his glasses slide down lower. They’re foggy, because it’s a million degrees in this room and they’re focused on the part of your body where you’re bent and rocking back on him in the slightest way. Like you’re an experiment he takes you all in. “You’re close?”

If he wasn’t so curious you would’ve thought he was mocking you. But Eunseok is paying attention to everything, recalling what he was doing earlier that made you react to him. You selfishly don’t have it in you to pull him along, tossing compliments over your shoulder to let him know he’s doing the right thing. You’re too distracted, instead focused on crying out when he starts scissoring his fingers and closing your legs in on itself when he starts rubbing your clit the right way.

Eunseok doesn’t even notice that you came. He vocalizes something about how you’re squeezing his fingers, then commenting on how you’re so wet. Then he’s bumping into his coffee table. You’re still weak but he can’t be bothered as he pulls out to wrap an arm around your hip, rearranging you to his liking. You can barely move to follow him, trying to alleviate some of your weight while being moved into place. Eunseok is satisfied quickly with your head resting on the armrest and your hands gripping it for support. You hear him stumble to situate a leg on the coffee table, and he’s back to touching you again.

Eunseok is repeating curses behind you again and again, and you’re trying hard to keep that same form. You have to fight to keep your knee slipping out from underneath you from each thrust. You’re on the brink of overstimulation and Eunseok is trailing close behind you, panting and pressing his sweaty chest to your back.

“Did you cum?” He asks with the same doubt the first time, and it makes you clench around him again. His shaky fingers loosen the grip on your hip to go to your clit, and just the feeling of him pressing deep makes your entire body twitch. “Did you cum?”

He repeats the question, and you know it’s because he wants to make sure you’ve finished. But paired with his fingers working through your cries it seems like a threat, almost like a punishment. You lift your head from the armrest, tears staining your cheeks.

When you repeat to him over and over again that you came, and you’re going to cum again, he looks at you like he can’t believe it. His harsh pace with his hips even falter, but you’ve come too far to let anything stop. Now it’s you driving your hips back, working through the burn, the overstimulation, everything to chase after it. Eunseok’s shocked face pulls to ecstasy, and then he’s pulling at your shoulders until your back is pressed to his front. You’re gripping the back of the couch as Eunseok keeps your face turned to meet his lips. Shaky and deep kisses, where he’s just trying to feel the inside of your mouth and you’re trying to focus on getting him to finish.

Eunseok is the first to pull away to press his head into your shoulder, grunting into your skin as he ruts his hips against yours. You can feel the rim of his glasses press into your skin, and you can feel his hands hastily reach down to grab yours. He’s slipping his fingers between the gaps in yours and holds you tight, rutting into you it punches every breath from your lungs. By the time Eunseok twitches and slumps against you, you’re gasping to catch your breath. He matches your exhaustion, gasping quietly and panting against your back.

His hand is sluggish leaving yours, you stay clutched against the back of the couch and gripping it for support when he pushes his glasses back up his face. You’re staring forward at his front door, trying to come to terms with the fact that you manifested whatever just happened. Yunjin and Giselle really aren’t going to believe you, if you can find the energy to leave his apartment. You feel like you’re stuck now, and you’re about to become an even worse thorn in your side. You pray he doesn’t mind, because he pulls out of you and ties the condom off before he’s lying down and guiding you to lay on top of him. He catches his breath when he wraps his arms around you, breathing deep and rubbing shapes on your skin.

He’ll never be able to get rid of you after this, you’re sure of it. He holds you tight and you can’t even think of leaving, whatever obligations you had for the rest of the day are cast to the side.

“Seok.”

You look up to see Eunseok already looking at you. His glasses are halfway down his nose, so far down he looks at you over the rim.

“Can I wear your glasses?”

#commissionz #seriez: glasses #01zfan: eunseok #eunseok smut #riize smut

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doumadono · 2 hours ago

Text

Warnings: oral (f receiving), finger fucking, Dabi being Dabi, Tomura being Tomura

Synopsis: Shigaraki’s patience is tested when Dabi interrupts an intimate moment

MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST - PART II

The night wrapped itself around the hideout, broken only by the faint hum of distant traffic and the sickly buzz of a flickering neon sign outside the window. The place wasn’t exactly cozy — it was dim, cluttered, and reeked faintly of cigarette smoke.

Hours had slipped by unnoticed as you pored over scattered documents, papers that Tomura insisted needed attention. They weren’t critical — just another piece of the League’s never-ending puzzle — but you couldn’t deny that the tension in the air had nothing to do with logistics.

Shiagraki lounged on the worn couch, one arm draped over the back, his fingers idly brushing the frayed fabric as he watched you flip through one of the documents strewn on the coffee table.

“You’ve been quiet tonight,” you pointed out, breaking the silence. You always read him too well, and it unnerved him more than he’d ever admit.

He didn’t answer right away, his crimson eyes lingered on you, settling a little too long on the curve of your neck where your shirt dipped just enough to tease. Finally, he shifted, leaning forward and propping his chin on his hand. “I’ve had a lot on my mind,” he muttered, his voice husky.

“League stuff?” you asked gently, stealing a quick glance at him from beneath your lashes.

He snorted, a humorless sound. “League stuff, you, the fact that half the world would love to see me dead. Take your pick.”

The honesty of his words caught you off guard. Slowly rising your head, you gave him a look.

Tomura wasn’t one for baring his thoughts unprompted. Usually, his feelings came out in fragmented bursts — rough, jagged pieces of himself that he let you see only when he couldn’t contain them anymore.

“I didn’t realize I made it to the list,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood, though your pulse quickened under his glance.

His gaze sharpened. “You’ve been on it since the day I met you, Y/N.”

There was something in the way he said it, a weight that made your heart stutter. Before you could respond, he stood abruptly, and crossing the room, he closed the distance between you in a heartbeat, towering over your seated form. His hands with pinkies raised braced on either side of the chair, caging you in. “You don’t get it, do you?” he snorted, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper that sent a shiver down your spine. “You’re not just some passing thought. You’ve got me wrapped around your damn finger, and it’s infuriating, doll.”

“Tomura—” you started, your voice barely above a whisper, but he didn’t let you finish.

His lips crashed against yours, desperate and unrelenting, the kiss searing away any words you might have said. The document in your hand slipped to the floor, forgotten, as his fingers gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him.

His chapped lips moved against yours with raw need, coaxing you to respond.

Your hands found the front of his t-shirt, fisting the fabric as he deepened the kiss, his tongue teasing yours in a slow, passionate dance of desires.

He pulled you to your feet, his movements purposeful, guiding you backward until your calves hit the edge of the couch.

When he finally broke the kiss, his lips hovered a heartbeat away from yours, and his breath was warm against your skin. “Lie down,” he ordered dictatorially.

You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding. This was the common room — anyone could walk in at any moment, and yet, the risk only seemed to thicken the tension between the two of you.

Before you could overthink it fully, Shigaraki’s lips brushed the shell of your ear, and his voice dropped lower. “Don’t make me ask twice.”

Slowly, you sank onto the couch, the worn-out cushions creaking softly beneath you. Your movements were unhurried as you leaned back, letting your body relax against the threadbare fabric. One hand drifted to your chest, fingers grazing over your cleavage in a languid motion, your eyes fixed on him, drinking in every detail of his sharp features you found super attractive.

Shigaraki’s lips curved into a wicked grin, a spark of boyish arrogance lighting up his sharp features. The man leaned forward, his tongue brushed over your lower lip, soft at first, before pressing harder, coaxing yours into a heated battle. Every motion was heated, like he was savoring you, tasting you as though he wanted to memorize every inch of your mouth. His hands mirrored the hunger in his kiss, sliding beneath your shirt.

Tomura let out a low, mocking chuckle, his crimson eyes dark with amusement. “Well, well,” he drawled, his voice dripping with condescension. “I was wondering why your nipples were so easy to see through your shirt today. Turns out, you’re just a dirty little thing who decided to skip the bra, huh?”

When his fingers finally found the soft meat of your tits, rolling your nipples between them, a moan spilled from your lips.

He pulled back just enough for his lips to hover above yours, his ragged breaths mingling with your own. “I want to taste you,” he uttered, his voice low and rough, each syllable like a confession carved from stone.

Your body betrayed your answer before your lips could form the words, a shy nod trembling from you under the weight of his gaze.

He slowly lowered his head, his lips capturing yours once more, deepening the kiss as his tongue danced with yours. But he didn’t stay there for long.

Kisses trailed down your jawline, slow and deliberate. When he reached the curve of your neck, his teeth grazed your skin just enough to draw a gasp, a smirk ghosting against your throat. His hands were careful, his pinkies hovering as he tugged the panties down your legs with agonizing slowness after reaching for them under the skirt you wore that day.

He knelt between your legs, his lean form coiled with tension. For a moment, he simply stared. The sight of your pussy was mesmerizing. “So pretty,” he muttered, almost to himself, his voice thick with reverence. Tomura leaned in, his lips brushing over your clit in a featherlight kiss before trailing lower to place another around your entrance. His nose grazed your bundle of nerves as he breathed you in. He paused there, his crimson eyes half-lidded as he inhaled deeply, savoring the intoxicating, rich feminine scent he adored more than he’d ever admit. Slowly, his tongue darted out, wetting his lips, his crimson eyes dark with hunger as he murmured lowly, “You drive me fucking crazy.”

Under normal circumstances, Shigaraki would’ve drawn it out. He’d have kissed his way down your stomach, lips lingering on your thighs, smirking as you squirmed beneath him, desperate for more. But that moment was different. The growing pressure in his pants, the unbearable tightness as his erection strained against the fabric, pushed him past his usual games. Without hesitation, he buried his face between your thighs, his hunger too consuming to wait, his lips and tongue already claiming you as though he needed you to breathe.

A moan escaped your parted lips.

Shigaraki ran his index finger up and down your slit. “You’re soaked,” he stated, his tone laced with satisfaction. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, glinting with amusement as he smirked. “And I’ve barely touched you, babe.”

Your cheeks were flushed at that moment and you made sure to spread your legs wider to grant him full access to your pussy.

His tongue dragged a slow, deliberate line from your entrance to your clit. Tomura’s tongue was moving fast as it circled your clit before dipping lower, tasting you like you were the most decadent thing he’d ever had. When his fingers joined the assault, sliding into your slick cunt, your back arched against the couch cushion. His digits curled upward, stroking that spot inside you that sent white-hot pleasure shooting through your body.

“Fuck, Tomura,” your voice was nothing but a pathetic whimper, your hand gripping the edge of the couch, your other hand slipping into his messy hair as your hips bucked against his face.

“You taste so good,” he rasped, his voice muffled as he buried his face deeper between your trembling thighs. His fingers quickened their pace, thrusting harder as his tongue focused on your swollen clit, flicking against the swollen bundle of nerves. Soon, it was replaced with his thumb that rubbed little circles around your clit.

Your body tensed, the coil of pleasure in your core tightening with every movement. “I’m— Oh God— I’m gonna—”

He alternated between broad, flat strokes of his flattened tongue and precise flicks of its tip, experimenting with the rhythm until he found the exact pace that had you gasping and gripping the couch beneath you. His lips wrapped around your clit as he sucked gently before letting his tongue glide over it again.

The coil snapped, and your orgasm consumed you entirely, ripping through your body with an intensity that left you trembling, moaning his name like a mantra.

But he didn’t stop.

Even as your thighs quivered around his head, his tongue continued its relentless rhythm, his fingers curling and stroking your inner, velvety walls.

He withdrew his fingers slowly, the wet, obscene sound of them sliding out of your soaked pussy made your cheeks burn.

Tomura’s lips curled into a wicked grin as he held his hand up, your creamy juices dripping down his scarred digits. Without breaking eye contact, he brought his fingers to his lips, his tongue darting out to lick them clean, savoring every last drop like it was the finest thing he’d ever tasted.

Your breath hitched as you watched the show. Instinctively, your tongue flicked out to wet your lips, now dry from all the moans that left your mouth.

When his fingers were clean, he didn’t pause to revel in your reaction. Instead, he lowered his head again, his tongue sweeping over your folds with deliberate slowness. He sucked your pussy lips into his mouth, his movements languid and unhurried, as if he were determined to clean every last trace of your cum. The obscene slurping sounds only heightened the ache pooling in your stomach again, and you whimpered.

“Well, well, well.” The raspy voice cut through the heavy air.

Your head turned sharply toward the sound, your breath catching in your throat when your eyes landed on Dabi. He was leaning against the bar, a glass of amber liquid in his hand, the rim tilted lazily toward his lips. His turquoise eyes gleamed with lust, a smug grin curling his lips as he watched the scene unfold in front of him.

“What the hell do you want, Dabi?” Tomura growled, his voice muffled as he dragged his tongue in a long, deliberate stroke from your entrance to your clit. His grip on your thighs tightened possessively, fingers flexing against your trembling flesh. “Can’t you see we’re kinda busy?”

Dabi chuckled, the sound low and dark, vibrating through the room. He tilted his head, feigning innocence as his gaze flicked back to you briefly before settling on Tomura. “Didn’t think you had it in you, boss,” he teased. “Didn’t know you even knew how to eat a girl out.”

Tomura paused, his tongue sweeping over you one last time before he kissed your slit and pulled back, crimson eyes narrowing as he straightened. His lips, glistening with your juices and swollen, twitched into a sardonic smirk. “And yet,” Shigaraki began, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he flicked his tongue over his lower lip, “I seem to be doing a better job than you ever could. I have a great technique. Jealous?”

Dabi snorted, his grin widening as he leaned casually against the counter, one brow quirking upward. “Please. You call that technique? It’s amateur hour.” He tilted his head, gesturing lazily toward you. “Bet she’s only half as satisfied as she pretends to be.”

“Why don’t you shut the fuck up and get out of here?” Tomura bit out, his voice low and venomous. “Or should I put that smart mouth of yours to better use and disintegrate it? I’d be doing everyone a favor.”

“I’m certain I could make her cum faster.”

Tomura’s snarl was immediate, his hand tightening on your thigh as he shot the other man a glare that could’ve set the room ablaze. “Touch her, and I’ll disintegrate that disgusting face of yours. Now, seriously, get lost before I decide to turn you into a pile of ash.”

Dabi laughed again, the sound fading as he turned back toward the bar. “Relax, boss.” Dabi barked another laugh, shaking his head as he pushed off the bar. “Fine, fine, I’ll leave you to it, boss. No need to lose your shit.” He turned, raising his glass in a parting salute. “Just make sure you don’t knock her up. The last thing I need is to play uncle Dabi to your bastard.”

Tomura rolled his eyes, muttering a low curse under his breath as Dabi sauntered away. Shigaraki’s focus shifted back to you, his gaze softening just enough to send a thrill down your spine. “Ignore this idiot,” he murmured, lowering himself between your legs again. “Now, where were we? Ah, right... here.” His tongue darted out, tracing the path along your slit he left unfinished, his voice rumbling against your skin as he added, “You’re mine. And I’m going to make sure everyone knows it.”

@pixelcafe-network

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lullabyalikpoptarot · 2 days ago

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Hello, can you do MLT in enhypen that is good in bed. 🥹🥹🥹

I am going to use this question to dive into what their sexual energy is. I have been interested in this topic lately.

Disclaimer: No facts, all alleged. I am reading sexual energy here and it helps understand who they are as a person. I went back and forth if I wanted to answer this one. Spicy question and my Scorpio mars felt intrigued. Now, I am going to expand on this question and ask about their sexual energy. Now, sexual energy can be about matters of sex, but it can also be harnessed into creative projects as well and extended to other areas of our lives. Now, I do not see the act of sex as dirty, perverted like some of ya’ll do, it is a beautiful act, if done right, between two people. How one approaches sex connects to their past, their upbringing, aspects of themselves, and any healing that may need to be done, so I wanted to answer this question to see where they fall in that spectrum. This energy can be used for their creative work as an idol as well.The reading will go into both aspects. Now, with the energy. I may be able to determine where they fall here with the question you asked, so I can try to list it. Okay, this is listed in the order of the question that was originally asked to the best I can by the energy. This took a lot longer than I expected good thing I did this on the weekend lol

Jake (The Chariot/King of Cups/The Hierophant)

Of course he would get the King of Cups, as he is a Scorpio, so he is very in his energy. He is someone who is bold and will take the initiative. He has a fearless energy to him, always up for the next challenge, but he can also move on pretty quickly. I can see him facing any challenge that comes his way. He is a loving person, compassionate lover, someone who listens and tries his best to please his partner. Sex can be very emotional and intense for him. He also sees it as an emotional act. I see him being the type to take his time. He may be the type that likes to give guidance or receive guidance. I am getting, learning from elders, so maybe someone passed down some guidance of how to please a partner or the act of sex, that is weird, but okay. It is like he heard or saw how they go about things and followed suit, yup going with that. Sounds weird to me, but just the messenger. I can also see the hierophant as someone who is experienced, so he can have that. Although he is very emotional and intense, he does his best to not show it and does keep his cool, and maybe tries to come off colder than he really is. It is interesting to me that he doesn’t seem as bold when it comes to his creative pursuits, as these energies tie into each other, he seems much less confident in that area. Alright, so I did ask why he isn’t as confident. I got the message that he gets judged, and I am thinking he doesn’t get judged during sex, but got more pressure, okay, makes sense actually. So, if he didn’t get judged and had that pressure, he would be much more bold and take risks when it comes to creative projects with work. Interesting.

Sunghoon (7 of Wands/Death/Ace of Wands)

Oh, we got our first wands, yay! I see a defensive energy here, but now kind of seeing that protective energy, possessive energy he has. It gives me what is his, is his. This Death card gives me Scorpio energy, so he is intense and passionate, so his sexual energy seems to be the strongest to me. There are things he needs to kind of release. Also, the act of sex can help him release any tension he does have. It can be a transformative experience for him. I got an out of body experience, interesting. I do see him enjoying the act of sex, enjoying the passion and intensity of it. I mean he does have strong Scorpio placements, but seeing him being more intense than Jake, I would say it would surprise me, but not really lol It is like he is able to let go of himself, maybe not be so tense, so it can help him release tension he has, that makes sense why he enjoys it and other reasons of course. He also has creative ways of doing the act and he can be spontaneous. He probably prefers quickies and he isn’t the type to take his time. I keep hearing the korean word 빠른 which means quick, so yeah. I can see this with his creative work of being protective of what he does, defending his territory and work and having this spark of passion, but it quickly dies, so he loses interest.

Heeseung (Wheel of Fortune/10 of Wands/Queen of Cups)

Something about time is speaking to me with two of these cards. It is like he tends to feel rushed or needs to rush. He puts a lot of burden on himself. I don’t see sex being very relaxing for him per say. I am not sure why I am getting, time is ticking, I keep hearing that. On this one card, I never notice the clock and now that is all I can focus on. This is interesting, what does that mean! This also spills into his creative pursuits, this need to rush. All that plays into together in the bedroom and when he creates something. So, with the queen of cups, he is sensitive, nurturing, tender, very giving and most likely pretty emotionally attuned to the person. He would know and understand what his person likes and enjoys and will do his best to please them. I can see him seeing this as an emotional act between two people. I see him being a very sweet lover. I can also see in his creative pursuits he will also need to be emotionally attuned with it, and I believe he pours his emotions into his music, so whatever he creates comes from his heart and his own experiences.

Jungwon (Ace of Wands/10 of Wands/King of Pentacles)

So, we got some wands here. He goes in hard and fast, I don’t mean to sound dirty, but that is what I got, leave me alone lol. He goes from the ace to the 10, that is a very fast progression there. He is a passionate one, pretty sexual. It is like a lot happens way too quickly and then he burns out, how that plays out in sex, don’t know. He may be the type that likes to try different things. It is like he goes from 0 to 100 and doesn’t let things slowly progress. Now, with the King of Pentacles, he is a precise person, maybe a perfectionist. He may like things a certain way. He may be specific about certain details. It is like he wants things this way or that way. I can see him carrying the burden on himself and wanting to take control of things. So, he is pretty dominant. I am kind of getting, let me do with you as I wish, omg lol He is also pretty stubborn and has a set way of doing things, so trying to change that will be hard. If I remember correctly, I did do a reading where I heard he was a passionate lover, so I am still getting that, but anyway, how this plays to his creative endeavors, well he is a perfectionist, a very detailed person, precise with things. I can see him being someone who tries to do too much and carries all the weight on himself, not really wanting the help from others and quickly burning himself out.

Jay (9 of Pentacles/5 of Cups/7 of Wands)

It takes Jay a bit more time to open up. I will say he isn’t as open as the others with this topic, which I understand. There are some wounds here and rejection. Some disappointment. I see him preferring to do it on his own than with somebody. He is protective of his space, also getting a very defensive energy here. I will stop. He isn’t as comfortable with his sexual energy. So, I moved to his creative energy as they blend with another, there is a sense he may feel he isn’t good enough, or has been rejected in the past for his creative endeavors. It seems he is trying to build financial independence but hasn’t been able to build that. Sorry, can’t get much from him and not forcing it. He’s got some wounds to heal with this one.

Sunoo (10 of Pentacles/Page of Swords/4 of Cups)

I kind of felt he had slightly an asexual vibe, even though I didn't mention that in the LBGQIA+ reading, although flirty, I say more playful than flirty, not that sexual in my opinion. Also, cards saying that too. He is about building a legacy, so he may have children, but that is for the family legacy. He doesn’t seem like the type that enjoys sex all that much. I don’t see an emotional connection to it. He connects through the mind and conversations, not through sex. I don’t see him being all that communicative and open with sex. He may be that comfortable with the act of it. It is like the act is an obligation for him to be honest. I feel him on that, same. The act may even give him the ick to be real. He seems pretty cautious and will do it mainly to make a child, or if he really loves the person. But it isn’t something he enjoys. So, his sexual energy doesn’t seem that strong, so creating music can be a difficult task for him, or tapping into his creative energy can be. He just isn’t that confident in that area. I wouldn’t say not confident, but just timid and shy when it comes to it. It seems hard for him to express that energy. It is like this energy doesn’t come natural to him.

Ni-Ki (The Hanged Man/Ace of Swords/The Tower)

Yeah, expected this, not much with him too, which makes sense. Pretty passive, not in a rush to do the act. Not sure he ever has to be honest. He is very cautious. I see him getting a whole bunch of information about it though, so I see lack of experience here. I see him ghosting people a lot. Interestingly enough I also got the tower when I did my own sexual energy reading, I took as me catastrophizing the act and thinking something bad will happen out of it, hint kids. I don’t want kids! That could be his mindset, so he avoids it. He can just sense something bad can happen from it. Yeah, not much here. He continues to give me asexual energy. It doesn’t mean he won’t have sex or have kids, but it isn't a high priority for him. Now, on to the creative side, he has potential to be a creator. He does have that energy to create things, but he isn’t very connected to it. Actually, when I read for him in general, he gets the ace of swords a lot, meaning he has the potential and the ideas, but doesn’t plan further, or look further into it to implement the idea, crazy how these connect. Sexual energy and how one creates do blend together I see. So, this lack of fall through he has could affect his sexual energy. He tends to not go through with things.

#kpop tarot #enhypen tarot

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ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal · 1 day ago

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Don’t ever tell yourself that you’re not enough, I am certain that you’re truly fine

PART TEN

Ot8 x reader

Word count: 559

Just a warning, this is my first fanfic! Does have age regression themes so if you’re not a fan, I ask that you respectfully just don’t read <3 also this will definitely have some angst

!THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION!

Jisung was freaking out, out of all of them, you choice him to be your daddy???? He was in between interviews, but he feels he needs to take the next interview out his schedule because his little girl called him daddy, him, Han jisung. “I’m here baby, daddy’s here.” He finally responds after a while, after realizing he never responded.

You sniffle softly, “miss daddy” you say with a slightly slurred tone.

“Oh bubs, daddy misses you too” Han says, trying to steady his voice so he doesn’t let it be known that he’s now crying. “You want to tell daddy about your day?”

This only led to you crying a bit more, which makes Han panic which draws attention towards the others. “What’s going on?” Seungmin ask, along with “who are you talking too?”

“Baby, I’m going to put you on speaker, okay? So the others can hear, okay?” Han ask gently and once he received a small ‘okay’ he put it on speaker.

Once on speaker, Seungmin can hear your cries and immediately looks at Han. “What did you say to make her cry?” He automatically accuses which makes Han shake his head and quickly says “I didn’t do anything.”

“Stop fighting,” you say while still crying, your voice shaky. “Don’t be mean to Daddy.”

Seungmins eyes widen, “d-did she say ‘daddy’?” He says with his voice quiet, looking at Han for answers. Han looks at Seungmin, nodding, his eyes slightly bright.

“He isn’t being mean to Daddy, Princess.” Han assures you, not missing Seungmin’s look of surprise on his face. “Now…” Han takes a breath, “you want to tell Daddy what has you all upset?”

You sniffle, your nose feeling stuffy. “Work…” you lisp out quietly, and you sniffle again, “missed yall.”

“We miss you too, bubs.” Seungmin speaks up, softly and comforting. Before he can say anything else, a voice cuts him off “what are you two doing? We have an interview in less than five minutes… wait who are yall talking to?”

Your eyes widen, instantly knowing whose voice that was. “Min Min!” You say instantly, as if Minho was the only way to stop your tears, but he can still hear your stuffy nose and the alight shake in your voice.

Minho looks at Han and Seungmin, then focuses on the phone, “hi my little love.” He then looks at Seungmin, “go tell Channie that we aren’t doing the interview.”

Without questioning, Seungmin goes which just leaves Han and Minho on the phone call with you…

Time goes by, and the interview was long canceled. The boys are all gathered in a hotel room, Hans phone is propped up while on FaceTime with you.

“So Changbin Hyung betted us that he can eat the whole chicken-“ Felix is telling you a story with enthusiasm. “In which I did!” Changbin cuts Felix off, causing Hyunjin to shake his head, “liar” he says to Changbin, causing everyone to laugh, your giggles fill the air.

Chris watches the boys and you interacting with a smile on his face. He loves that you are so comfortable to show this carefree side of yourself with them and that the guys all accept this part of you. After a while, he grabs his phone out and orders you dinner to get delivered, knowing you probably didn’t eat much today.

(If anyone has request for future chapters or just one shots, fill free to let me know!)

(Taglist is open)

TAGLIST: @puppyminnnie @galaxy4489 @xxeiraxx @yunhospuppy

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genderqueerpond · 2 years ago

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21: Favourite song with a person's name in the title.

okay I have to give this to Heather on the Moor by Alexander James Adams, even though it's only sort of a name title, because hello. Fucking Power Move

I mean absolutely everything he does is iconic but like. okay. REALLY QUICK version of his Lore; Alexander James Adams is a trans man who performed and recorded for 20+ years under the name of Heather Alexander. When he came out, he did so by explaining to his fanbase that the musician they had all been following was in fact a changeling, and he, the real child, had been in faerieland all this time while "sidhe" established a music career in his absence. However Heather has now gotten tired and gone home, and Alec, after defeating the faerie queen in a fiddle battle, has proven himself worthy to take his rightful place in the real world, as a real boy, and has inherited her music career.

He then proceeds to remake almost three albums worth of previously released songs, many of them as duets incorporating parts of the original vocal track. And THIS ONE. THIS ONE. He could've said, nah I'm not doing this song anymore, and it would have been entirely understandable and no reasonable person would have thought any less of him for it. Instead he does THIS, and puts it on an album right after "Stolen Child"

Insane iconic power move I die

---

honorable mentions to Kate and The Ghosr of Lost Love by Dave Carter & Tracy Grammer because I love the fiddle part, and Caroline by Espers because I was just listening to it and I like it a lot!

#music asks #look at that i DID almost totally forget to check my inbox #but! i remembered now! thank you!#answering these in order received i have two more!#SORRY this took so long #i did indeed forget #and then i had to write a new short‐as-possible version of the AJA infodump you see #for the longer version search for the AJA tag on my blog!#aja #<- there

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magnifythesun · 9 months ago

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Hi! Are you still taking ianthony prompts? I've had this stuck in my head the time Ian's car broke down and Anthony said he begged Ian 6 times to come pick him up and I just imagine Damsel in Distress Ian who's also stubborn and a bit oblivious to a worried and protective Anthony who's always there for him in different situations.

Thank you sooo much for the prompt!!

This is definitely one of my favorite little details that they've dropped about themselves haha!! I can't believe Anthony had to ask Ian SIX whole times just to come get him 😂 Ian truly must never ask for help! Okay, I'm a little rusty in my writing but I'm excited so let's see how this goes! Let me know what you think! ^_^

(mid writing notes: writing this really made me realize just how many times SIX whole times of asking your friend to let you give them a ride is. SIX TIMES)

Read on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56102110

Leave it to Ian to get stranded in the only 'middle-of-nowhere' spot in LA. Anthony was wearing tracks into his living room carpet, caught up in rereading the messages Ian had sent.

"Car broke 😢" was the first sign of trouble, accompanied by the sad photo of Ian's car half-pulled off of the asphalt into grass.

"Where are you?" Anthony had shot back, confused by the seemingly rural background of the photo. "Got AAA coming to help?"

"In the most barren part of the whole city." Ian replied after a couple of minutes. "I'm taking a look at at it now but yeah I'm probably going to call them. Car sounds fucked."

"Shit, man. Lemme know if you need a ride" Anthony offered. It only took a second for the reply.

"No worries, I'll be good."

There had been radio silence for a while then. Anthony hadn't been too stressed. He figured Ian already had a different person lined up to get him if his car didn't start back up. Still, he kept glancing at his phone for updates that didn't come.

After about forty minutes, and a quick glance at the clock that told him it'd be getting dark soon, Anthony texted Ian again.

"Triple A fix your car?"

The response was prompt. "Nope"

Anthony stared at the message, knowing this man did not just send him only the word 'nope.' It took a minute but more followed.

"The AAA guy's still looking at it but from what I can tell it's beyond his scope. He mentioned I should probably call a tow truck so I've been looking at reviews."

Anthony glanced outside his window, frowning at the rapidly darkening sky. "That sounds like a good idea. after you call whoever, I can drive over so you have a ride once they've towed yours"

Ian responded quickly, "No don't worry I'm all good."

Definitely must have a ride then, Anthony thought. Still, he had to make sure. "Oh good, you've got a ride then?"

There was a long pause, so Anthony set his phone down, glancing at the setting sun again and went to get some water from the kitchen.

Coming back in to his phone, he checked his messages, and-

"No, I'll probably just Uber."

Anthony was flabbergasted. "Why?? Don't worry man it's no problem for me to pick you up. Let me know where you're at." It was actually just straight up dark outside at this point. "Is the AAA guy still there??"

"Nah he's gone. Waiting on the tow truck."

Alone in the middle-of-nowhere Los Angeles? Anthony thought, In the dark? Worry flared up in his chest and the pacing began.

"Ian, just drop me your map pin and I'll head over."

"It's chill, I'm not in a rush to get home." Ian replied, not a care in the world.

Anthony resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands. "that's not really the point??"

Suddenly a picture was loading in on the messages.

Anthony braced himself for a lackadaisical gif (and yes, he pronounced it jif like god and the creator intended) but was greeted instead with a horrendous selfie of Ian holding the phone at an angle an inch from his chin, smiling at him. The artificial light from his phone lit up the interior of his car behind him. Anthony couldn't help but laugh, even as the worry churned in his stomach. Another message followed.

"Don't worry. I'm a big boy now, all grown up and everything."

Anthony considered wracking his brains for a daddy joke, but decided Ian didn't deserve it right now. He grabbed his keys and wallet, flicked off the living room light, and left, locking his door behind him. As he walked toward his car, he jabbed the call button.

It rang only twice before Ian picked up. Anthony heard him take a breath to speak and didn't give him a chance. "Ian, just tell me where you're at, I'm heading to my car now."

"I-" Ian sounded surprised. There was a moment of rustling on the other end, then Anthony was clearly put on speaker as Ian's voice echoed slightly through the call. "Anthony, really, it's fine. The tow truck people have an ETA of like 15 minutes and then I'll call the Uber while they're hooking the car up."

Anthony, now at his car, pressed his eyes closed for a second in annoyance as he clicked his key. He hoped Ian could hear the pointed little beep-beep of his car unlocking in response.

"You really don't have to go out of your way to come get me," Ian continued, undeterred. "I didn't mean to derail your whole night with this," He laughed.

Anthony got in the car and leaned his head on his steering wheel in despair. "Ian."

"What?" Ian asked.

Anthony began to laugh despite himself, "I don't understand," He laughed harder, pushing the words out. "Why won't you just let me pick you up? I've asked you like five times!"

There was a moment of silence from Ian's end, and Anthony knew Ian was processing just how ridiculous this had become. Ian started snickering. Then they were both just laughing, Anthony holding the phone tight to his ear as Ian's laughter poured from it, his other hand ready to turn the car on.

"So," Anthony caught his breath, "So can you -please- drop me a map pin so I can come get you?"

"Alright, alright." Ian said.

Ian's voice was soft and breathless from his laughter. Anthony had spent a long time learning how to properly relish the beautiful moments in his life. The sound of Ian's voice right now, echoing slightly through the phone? That was one of those moments.

Anthony's phone pinged. "There. You happy?"

"Finally, my god." Anthony pulled the phone away to check. "Okay, I'll be there in ten minutes."

"Great," Ian said. "I think the tow truck gets here right about then." Anthony could still hear the smile in his voice. "I'll be here, waiting for you to rescue me."

#ianthony #asks #my fanfic #i have to emphasize that i pronounce gif like a regular person despite what god and the creator intended #but anthony has that hill he's decided to die on so i will incorporate it at any possible relevant moment because its hilarious #thank you AGAIN for this prompt it was so great to write!!#ill be answering each prompt i get in the order i receive them!#ive got two more in the pipeline right now! thank yall for sending!

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chlorinecake · 4 months ago

Text

A SUCKER FOR THE TASTE ✦— 𝐋.𝐇𝐒

▹ PAIRING — experienced husband heeseung x virgin f. reader

▹ GENRE — smut, fluff, newlyweds au

▹ SYNOPSIS — As teens, you were the uncanny duo that fell in love at first sight. Some odd years later, and you’re now a newlywed couple, spending your first night together in a fit of nerves as you navigate sex and other new feelings…

▹ WARNINGS — KINKTOBER SPECIAL, basically just pussy drunk!husband!heeseung making you squirt for hours on the night of your honeymoon, marriage themes (duh), mentions of food, dom and sub dynamics, kissing with tongue, overstimulation kink (reader cums multiple times), oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, petnames (baby, angel, pretty, sweetie), that’s all

▹ WORD COUNT: 3.3k — DAY 1

YOU AND HEESEUNG were like Romeo and Juliet; two people from totally different walks of life, and honestly, no one ever would’ve guessed you two’d end up falling for each other.

Sometimes, it’s hard to tell any time had passed between the first moment you met Heeseung with a hickey on his neck in the lunch hall to now as you sit before him on a king sized bed, ring fingers clad with beautiful bands to match as you stared into each others eyes, speaking a love song of unspoken words.

“You’re fine with waiting til marriage?” You remember asking him a few weeks after you first started dating as teens, “you won’t think I’m a prude for wanting to keep things traditional?…”

“Of course not, sweetie,” you remember him answering while cupping your face in his hands, “a girl like you is worth the wait—” He whispered in between kissing your lips, “—and so much more…”

Since that moment, you and Heeseung have stuck to your guns, not even so much as showering together to keep your purity intact until the right moment…

… That fateful day when you’d say “I do” and he the same, right before venturing off into the sunset on angel’s wings to explore another country together.

Another life, might I add, as a married couple on your extravagant honeymoon…

Everything was so magical in your head, too… but regardless of that, Heeseung was too big of a fucking dork to let himself be romantic for once.

Just an hour ago, he had told the hotel receptionist “you too” after she congratulated you both on getting married—

“Grrrrrrrrr,” he pouted, scrunching his nose at you.

“Did you just… growl at me!?”

“Yes, and I’ll do it again if you keep resisting,” Heeseung threatened playfully, pointing an accusing finger at your frame now.

Sighing, you raised your hands beside your head as a sign of compliance, parting your lips slightly as you held your head back for him.

“Alright, don't move this time, alright? We can do this!” He ordered more passionately this time, cradling a single grape between his fingers before angling his wrist backwards and launching it towards your mouth.

“Oh my gosh, I finally caught it!” You shouted with excitement, words coming out a bit slurred as you bit down into the sweet fruit, “Tastes like victory,” you continued, making Heeseung grace you with his thundering ovation.

“Brava!” He began to cheer, but the rest of his sentence was interrupted by his own burp, which only elicited a fit of embarrassed giggles from the both of you…

Two empty glasses of wine sat on the hotel nightstand beside the bed you were currently sat on, and if it wasn't obvious enough, y'all were already starting to experience the giddy effects of the alcohol dancing in your systems.

“So,” you smiled, a laugh still present in your throat as you fed him a white grape from the bowl between you two, “we're the couple that eats pie in place of dinner now?”

“Sure... but not just any pie,” Heeseung corrected, leaning closer to your ear as he whispered, “blueeeberry pieeee.”

You're not sure if it was the wine or the honeymoon high, but you can't help yourself from laughing out loud at Heeseung's behavior in this moment—

“You’re a legend for always vibing with my horrible sense of humor, y’know that?” Your husband remarked while tilting his head at you endearingly.

“Your humor is definitely one-of-a-kind, but I wouldn't want you to change a thing about it,” you returned tenderly, right before feeding him a fork-full of blueberry pie from the dish between you two, feeling your heart swell as he smiled into the bite.

The kind of smile you’d have a hard time getting out of your mind later—

“Thanks, babe,” he said, a bit of dark blue jam resting in the corner of his mouth now as his eyes sparkled with what you could bet was pure flattery.

You always liked it whenever you managed to get Heeseung all flustered before you, considering how he was usually the one to make you a blushing mess with only his words.

“You've uh...” you stammer slightly, “you've got a little something on your lip there...”

“Really?”

“Yea, just... let me get it for you real quick,” you continue, licking the pad of your thumb before leaning forward to dab at the jam on his mouth.

That's when you noticed his lips curving into a subtle smirk as he whispered in a low voice, “You got it, baby?”

“Y-yea,” you stuttered again, feeling your face heat up at his words, and if you didn't look so hot to him right now, he would've pinched your cheeks—

“Whoops,” Heeseung gasped facetiously, pouting at the streak of blueberry jam he very intentionally just smeared on your lower lip, “must be the wine making me so clumsy today...”

Your eye almost twitched at the sight of him licking his finger clean, a rush of nerves swarming in your stomach now

“I-it's okay, Heeseung,” you said while lifting your thumb to your mouth, “I've got it...”

“No you don't,” he chuckled at your shy demeanor, right before closing the space between you two, taking your face in his hand and kissing you.

And yes, you saw this coming, but it took you a few seconds to fully close your eyes, letting them flutter shut as you both sighed at the taste of each other, almost as if the contact relaxed you…

The kiss was slow at first, with you and him simply breathing against each other’s mouths as his velvety lips moved against yours.

But that pace didn't last long once Heeseung broke from the kiss to move the bowl of grapes and pie out of the way, a few of the glossy green ovals hitting the ground with light thuds as his right hand found the small of your back, pulling you even closer to him.

The kiss grew more intense from there as both your heads were tilting into each other, wet smacks filling the room now as his tongue prodded against yours with every passing second.

“God, you taste so sweet,” Heeseung groaned, desperately clinging to your waist which only made you moan in response.

You and Heeseung had made out countless times in the past, but you could tell something was different this time... you never felt this worked up with him before, and you knew it wasn’t just gonna end with a kiss—

“Can’t wait to taste other parts of you, too, baby…” he hummed, kissing along your neck while pinning your delicate wrists above your head.

And that’s when you felt it…

The twitch between your legs and the heat rushing throughout your entire body…

You were wearing a plaid pajama skirt and white top that matched Heeseung’s plaid sweatpants and long sleeved shirt, as you simply expected to only eat some dessert, discuss the rest of your honeymoon plans, and head straight to sleep right after.

Now though, you knew you wouldn't be able to get much rest with your emotions like this… at least not comfortably, that is…

You’re between his lap at first until he guides you onto your back, kissing down your neck, between your breasts, and down your stomach as he lifts your top, stopping at the waist band of your skirt given the way your body tensed up suddenly.

“Is everything alright?” He asked softly, glancing back up at you with a swollen look to his pouty lips, given all the kissing they had just done.

You knew what was happening right now..

Heeseung was doing exactly what you had asked him to do, and as much as your body craved it, your mind kept fighting it for some reason…

FLASHBACK —

“Just… don’t make it too… formal, okay?”

“Formal?” Heeseung repeated with a slight chuckle as you sat beside each other on the plane that morning.

“Well, yea… I just don’t want to make a big deal out of it—”

“But it is a big deal, baby,” he cut you off by placing his hand over yours. “We’ve been waiting a long time for this, y’know?… Not just to have sex but—” he leaned closer to you as he whispered this in your ear, “—to make each other feel good… in all kinds of ways…”

His breath tickled your ear in that moment… similarly to how his lips were tickling you now as you laid before him on the mattress, his head hovering over the space between your thighs.

“We don’t have to go any further until you’re ready, love—”

“I’m ready, Heeseung,” you said while nodding, but he waited to continue, knowing in his heart that there was still something you needed to get off your chest.

He backed away, pulling your shirt back over your stomach and sitting on the bed normally now.

“Heeseung,” you said again, drawing his sparkly doe eyes back to you.

“I’m listening, love,” is all he replied with, offering you a warm smile, “what’s on your mind?”

What’s in the way? You internally asked yourself right after, knowing deep down that you had no reason to feel so nervous with him right now…

Heeseung had never alienated you because of your inexperience with sex before, and was always very understanding of your moral and sexual boundaries.

But now, things were different; you were a married couple, and one of the many perks of that was being able to explore each others body in a comfortable way…

Turns out though, it was all just your own insecurities clouding your judgment, and you hated that you couldn’t shake the nerves bubbling in your stomach…

“It’s just that,” you started nervously, fidgeting with your manicured nails, “I… I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“Yeah, I know,” your husband nodded sarcastically, trying his best to resist the urge to kiss you again—

“And…well, you have a lot more experience than me with this kind of thing,” you continued, lowering your head.

“So what?”

“What if I don’t meet your expectations?…”

“Expectations? What do you mean, ____?”

“Well, you’ve been with a lot of other girls and what if I’m not as good as them? What if you don’t like sex with me?…”

Heeseung’s heart would’ve otherwise dropped at your words, but instead, he smiled softly, taking your chin in his hand and lifting your head towards him. “You’re nothing like those girls I was with in the past, ____, and that’s my favorite part about you,”

You looked into his eyes as he continued, “I’ll be happy with whatever happens tonight. You wanna know why? Because I did it with you, and I love you with my everything, princess…”

“I love you too, Heeseung,” you replied meekly, flashing him a soft smile as he kissed your cheek.

“No expectations tonight, then… okay, baby? I just wanna please you,” he whispered, slowly guiding your body back down against the mattress with a secure hand. “I wanna make you feel so good,” he continued, placing another kiss to the center of your lips.

Heeseung started by letting his plush lips wander all over your body again, lifting your shirt up once more to leave open-mouthed kisses all over your stomach.

“You're so beautiful,” he murmured with warm breath against your skin, caressing your inner thighs with his hands until you naturally craned them open, inviting him to your pulsing core.

Your breath hitched once you felt his nose burry between your clothed folds, but your little sounds only excited him even further, and he wasted no time in removing your panties completely now.

“Heeseung,” you whined, watching him through half-lidded eyes as he spat on your cunt, toying with the moisture there using his middle and index finger.

“Just relax for me, angel,” your husband cooed with a soothing tone, and you're not sure if it was the alcohol or the petname he just called you in his bedroom voice, but your head was starting to feel very dizzy.

And if you weren't so horny, you would've felt bashful in front of him like this... half-naked, and trembling when he's hardly even touched you yet.

The coldness of his wedding band against the warm flesh of your thigh sent shivers down your spine, and he wasted no time in inviting his fingers into your sopping hole, one at a time until your walls practically sucked him in.

He then started to leave kitten licks against your sensitive bud, complimenting the pace by pumping his wrist towards your pelvis with his digits still exploring the gummy walls of your cunt.

Admittedly, you had tried fingering yourself in the past, but it never felt as good as the way Heeseung worked wonders inside you right now, but you still needed something...

Something to hold onto… something to grab, and Heeseung could immediately tell once your nails started weakly nipping at the bed sheets, your pussy throbbing more and more—

“Hee,” you moaned, feeling his fingers curl deeper and deeper inside your tight cunt, “need to touch you so bad...”

“Yea? Wanna hold my hand, pretty?”

All you can manage to do is nod desperately, making him chuckle slightly at your neediness.

“If you hold my hands, I need you to promise to keep your legs open for me on your own... can you do that for me, love?”

“Y-yes,” you stammered, and with that, Heeseung got to work on licking your slick from his fingers before finding your hands in his.

But your core was already missing the stimulation, making your hips rise up and down as if thin air would provide enough friction to ease your craving.

And that's when he licked his first stripe up the center of your pussy, and you're sure your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the sensation.

It didn't take long for the pleasure to escalate from there, either.

His lips wrapped around your clit and sucked you in like a starved out man. His tongue was applying pressure in all the best ways before sinking into your hole, filling you up just enough to have you arching your back on the bed.

You felt your first orgasm wash over you, but you knew your husband had no intention of stopping so soon.

You were mewling beneath him at the overstimulation, thankful that he at least slowed down the pace of his tongue, even though he was still very earnestly slurping at your juices…

“Could eat this pussy for hours, princess… you’re just too delicious…” he groaned, and you felt the bed shaking from the way he was rutting his crotch against the mattress, furrowing his eyebrows as his kept eating you out.

“Come on baby, let me hear you,” Heeseung practically begged, his tone sounding so hoarse, so drunk as the vibrations from his voice only tantalized you even further, “tell me how good it feels...”

“F-feels s-so fucking good, baby,” you moaned, words coming out in fragments given how cloudy your brain was becoming, and you're pretty sure you had your second or third orgasm shortly after as your hands squeezed his, so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

His tongue was licking between your folds so well, the textured muscle making your skin tingle all over but in the best way imaginable.

Heeseung didn't plan on any of this to happening, which is why it felt so good in the first place. It was natural, raw, and so so messy…

Your own cum was dripping all over his chin and lips, and he was loving every single second of it.

He was obsessed with it. The way your clit throbbed against his lips, the way you squirted your juices all over his face, the way your thighs squirmed while struggling to stay open, and your angelically desperate cries of pleasure as he drew out orgasm after orgasm after orgasm.

He wished he could watch your face contort with need as he fucked you with his face and tongue, but he couldn't look back up at you no matter how hard he tried… He had to keep his face buried between you…

Your strength eventually gave out and your grip released his hands that soon found one of your tits, gripping the mound of flesh in a way that only drew you even further over the edge.

Your hips had even developed a mind of their own, humping against his face like a bunny in heat as he whispered filthy nothings against your cunt, as well as sweet somethings that you'd hear for the next hour or two that Heesueng spent with his pointy nose brushing against your clit.

“You're so fucking wet for me, angel...”

“Love it when you come all over my face.”

“Pull my hair, baby... harder than that...”

“So so beautiful, and just for me.”

“Keep those pretty thighs open just like that, baby…”

“You taste so fucking divine...”

“Please don't tell me to stop... just one more, baby... I know you've got it in you...”

He found just as much enjoyment being between your thighs as you did in having him there, making you cream on his tongue again and again until you finally hiccuped the words, “N-no more, Hee... p-please, I can't t-take anymore...”

But your begging only made Heeseung even greedier, letting his fingers find your clit where he applied enough pressure and stimulation to break that last orgasm out of you, leaving you a shaking mess as he kissed you down, harder than a bullet in his own pants from getting to see you like this so many times and for so long in just one evening.

A series of shaky whimpers filled the room now as your husband crawled back over you, kissing you with his swollen lips while caressing the side of your fucked-out face. “You did so good for me, baby... especially on your first night...”

“Th-thank you,” you said with a weak chuckle, still feeling your orgasms fresh in your hips and thighs as he kept soothing you with his touch, your breath shaky in your chest after hours of coming undone with him…

That's when he moved over to lay beside you, and your eyes almost immediately caught sight of the thick bulge resting behind his pants, and you couldn't help but feel a little bad now given how he didn’t get much action the whole time.

“Do you want me to...” you started timidly, moving your hand to touch him up til he stopped you.

“Not tonight... we can have fun with that tomorrow,” Heeseung smiled, making you giggle again as he changed his position to make the bulge less noticeable, “for now though, let's focus on getting you cleaned up... sound good?”

“Better than good,” you replied tenderly, kissing him on the cheek before he got up from the bed and headed toward the hotel bathroom where he planned to run you a nice warm bath.

“Wait!” Your husband called out suddenly, just as he caught you trying to get out of the bed on your own.

Running over, a confused look remained on your face as he picked you up from the mattress bridal style, carrying you to the bathroom.

“I didn't forget how to walk, Heeseung,” you giggled, keeping your hands secure at his shoulder as he cradled you into the tub.

“I know,” he laughed, helping you get your top off and over your head as the water ran in the background, “I just didn't want my precious wife accidentally stepping on any of those grapes I dropped earlier...”

It went without saying that Heeseung had always been a loser, but he was your loser, and that fact alone was the bandaid that covered up every preconceived notion of him you ever created in the back of your mind…

You didn’t see him the way other people saw him… as the former man whore, troublemaker, or hopeless goof from high school, ‘destined’ to never change…

You saw him as the adorable nerd who accepted you for the things you saw as flaws… as the guy who still wore character themed PJ’s every once in a while that you now get to call “Hubby,” “lovey,” and “mine…”

⋆♱✮ Huge thanks to everyone who read this little fic of mine, which actually concludes DAY 1 of my Kinktober Event !! If you're interested in reading more works like this, feel free to check out my main enhypen masterlist or my kinktober masterlist by clicking one of these links !!

⋆♱✮ PERMANANT TAGLIST:

@squoxle, @nishiimuranights, @ashgonedash

@yourmomscuntis2tighy, @wonbinisbabygurl

@watamotee33, @addictedtohobi, @ot7sevenlvr

⋆♱✮ KINKTOBER TAGLIST:

@pasteltheghost16 @fawnpeaks @melonvrs

@mheretoreadff @skzfelixlove @inishij

@yaorzu-blog @andromedawillburyyou @ramyeonzprincess

@zaihypen @simjaeyunns @gardenwonnies @hynier

@idontknowhowtomakeusernames @enhymeowz @minhosimthings

#enhypen #heeseung x reader #lee heeseung smut #heeseung hard hours #enhypen hard hours #heeseung fic #heeseung ff #heeseung fanfic #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen fanfic #enhypen ff #lee heeseung #heeseung hard thoughts #enhypen smut #heeseung smut #kinktober 2024

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revolutionsingingintherainnn · 7 days ago

Text

flowers 𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒

Summary: y/n gets flowers for lando after every podium and win he's had in 2024.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ln x reader ִ ࣪𖤐

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ fluff ִ ࣪𖤐

masterlist ☾☼

"what's your favourite flower?"

"hm?"

"what's your favourite flower?"

"don't have one,"

"why not?"

"never got any flowers,"

𐙚. ݁₊⋆❀˖°

australia p3 - daffodils [new beginnings]

the start of the season was decent, according to lando. getting his first podium of the season was good. he was proud of it, of course he was. and to celebrate with one of his closest friends on the top step was even more special.

the car was getting better, but he knew there was a lot more still left to do. his mechanics had told him, had explained to him that it's difficult, and it's all theoretical. lando understood that. it wasn't necessary that the car that would be faster in theory would work practically as well. but, lando tried his best to give as much feedback as he could.

he was sticky with champagne, and after all the media duties and celebrations, he just wanted to escape. he wanted to escape to his driver room, and call his girlfriend and maybe his mum as well.

"good race, man," one of his mechanics congratulated him as he walked to his driver's room.

"thanks, mate," lando responded, smiling, and clapping his hand against the others in a bro handshake thing.

it didn't have a name.

finally reaching his driver room, lando opened the door and stopped short.

on the table in the corner had a bouquet of flowers. flowers he had never seen before in person. flowers he hadn't ordered, and knew jon wouldn't order for him.

slowly, he walked closer to the bouquet, and picked up the card hidden in the flowers.

"for your first podium of 2024, it's a new beginning. i love you. y/n <3"

lando smiled, a bright, shining smile. he'd just received flowers. for possibly the first time ever. immediately finding his phone, he video called his girlfriend.

"hi, baby! congratulations!" she said immediately as she answered the call.

"thank you for the flowers, my love," lando said softly, still admiring the flowers.

"they're daffodils! do you like them?"

"they're absolutely beautiful,"

she smiled, and it filled lando with a warm feeling. "i'm glad,"

lando sat on the little bench, craddling the bouquet against his chest like it was the podium trophy, and the two lost themselves in conversations and laughter and love.

𐙚. ݁₊⋆❀˖°

china p2 - iris [hope]

his second podium of the season. lando wasn't feeling particularly confident. with himself or the car. he knew that there was still a long way to go. the car felt a little alive, but nearly not enough for winning races.

he finished almost 14 seconds behind max, and that didn't make him feel very good from the team perspective. sure, it was important points he got for the wcc, but again, not nearly enough especially with checo coming in third, five or seconds behind him.

lando hoped that he could get mclaren in top 3 again at the very least, but he was already losing hope, and the season had just begun.

trudging back to his drivers room, lando opened the door, entering and quickly shutting it behind him. he needed some time to think, some time to himself.

as he sat down on the little bench thing, he noticed something purple and fragile peeking from his packed bag. he didn't have the energy to move, really. but something about it forced him to move.

slowly unzipping the bag, he pulled out the flowers. irises. he knew these. how? he didn't know.

his face broke into a smile again. taking the card attached, he read, "p2, baby! lfg! don't lose hope. your time will come! i love you. y/n <3"

he quickly snapped a picture, and sent it to his sleeping girlfriend, thanking her, and telling her that he would call her first thing once she was awake.

a knock on the door told him that it was time to leave, to go back to the hotel to pack, before their flight. zipping his bag up again, but keeping the flowers in his hand, lando picked up his stuff, and exited the room, still delicately holding the irises.

his beautiful, hopeful irises.

𐙚. ݁₊⋆❀˖°

miami p1 - lilac [first love]

oh, lando wished this feeling would never go away. it was a mix of relief and feeling proud of himself.

he was sticky with champagne, but for once, he didn't care, because, fuck, he was a race winner. he was a fucking race winner.

seven years he'd been with mclaren, and five years driving. his sixth year, he'd finally won. fucking finally won a race.

he couldn't stop smiling, couldn't stop laughing, he was so happy. so fucking happy. he was proud of himself, and he was so thankful for everyone who had stuck by him throughout his career, before f1 and during.

the celebrations were long, as they should be. his team was so happy for him, he'd spoken to his family on call in a few quiet moments, and he'd had max on a video call for most part of the celebration, desperately wishing he was there as well. aarav, niran, ria were there, but honestly, they weren't max. no one could ever be max.

this was also the race that his girlfriend had attended. he'd wanted her there, told her specifically to fly out because he had a good feeling in his gut.

and what a good feeling it was.

throughout the celebrations, lando kept her somewhere in his line of sight, needing to make sure that she was comfortable. someone had gotten her a bottle of champagne too, and every time the team sprayed him with it, she joined in on the fun, laughing with him and his team.

later, both of them sticky and smelling of champagne, they walked back to his driver room. his arm was across her shoulder, and hers was wrapped around his waist.

as soon as he opened the door, his eyes widened, "oh my god,"

y/n was looking at his expectantly, biting her lip to gauge his reaction. he slowly removed his arm from her shoulder as he walked in the two steps of space the room had left.

"oh my fucking god," he muttered, still taking it all in.

"do you like it?" she whispered.

the room was full of bouquets of lilacs, each one bright and blooming. there wasn't much space left in the room, but god, it looked so beautiful.

lando immediately turned around, wrapping his arms around her waist as he buried his head in her neck and picked her up. "i love it so much,"

her fingers were in his curls as she said, "they're lilacs. to remind you of your first love: racing."

lando pulled back from the hug, settling her down, "thank you so much. i love it. i love you. fuck, i love you," grabbing her face in his hands, he kissed her, long and slow, wanting to cherish the moment.

later on, when the two of them had changed, they slowly picked up all the bouquets, and lando handed out three stems to each of his mechanics and his engineers, and anyone who was in lando norris' team, and then gave two stems each to the rest of them. he gave four to zak, and the man had laughed and wrapped lando in another hug.

𐙚. ݁₊⋆❀˖°

emilia-romagna p2 - gladiolus [believing in yourself]

he was so close. fuck, he was so goddamn close to winning again. 0.752 seconds behind, he was so close.

he was happy for max v, of course he was. he was happy with p2 as well. there was no doubt in that. but, when p1 was so close, and lando knows he could've pushed just a little harder, it does settle a sense of disappointment in his gut.

with a p2 and a p4, it was a lot of points for mclaren, and as much as that excited lando, he was also afraid. he wasn't sure if he could really continue to keep performing so well, or as well as he wanted to. he wanted to go out and win, and he wanted to make his team proud, but fuck, was he good enough for it? would he ever be good enough for it?

his head was swimming with self-doubt, and it was slowly overshadowing his happiness of p2. it was annoying, and he was frustrated. he wanted to be happy about the podium, and the points, and all of that. he so desperately wanted to. but the questions, the what ifs just never stopped in his head.

opening the door to his driver room, he stopped. slowly he remembered. the flowers. his girlfriend. there was a bouquet of flowers he didn't know kept neatly in a vase. he assumed jon had done that.

removing his race suit, and quickly changing into fresher clothes, he picked up the bouquet, finding the note attached, "these are gladiolus. they're a reminder that you need to believe in your yourself. i love you. y/n <3"

lando laughed. how his girlfriend knew what was going on in his brain, he didn't know, but he was forever grateful that she was some sort of mind reader.

quickly snapping a picture and sending it to her, he hugged the flowers against his chest, wishing that she was there to hug him.

𐙚. ݁₊⋆❀˖°

canada p2 - poppy [strength]

lando walked into his driving room with his back still heavy from the intense race he had. the rain made it a battle to stay on the track; the visibility wasn't good, and the grip could be anywhere; the race felt like having a war with nature. still, he held steady enough to finish in p2, an impressive result if he said so himself.

as he shut the door, his eyes alighted on something that immediately threw a smile to his face. on the little table in the middle of the room was an exquisite bouquet of red poppies. the striking flowers stood out starkly against the antiseptic ambiance of the room, their radiant petals glowing brightly under the subdued lighting. alongside them rested a note.

lando stepped closer, picking up the card, and his heart gave a slight lurch when he saw her familiar handwriting.

"for your strength, my love. you showed it today, just like I know you always will. i'm so proud of you. you've got this, no matter what the track throws at you. i love you. y/n <3"

he let the words sink in, the weight of the race lightening for a moment as the warmth of her support surrounded him. the poppy—symbolizing strength, resilience, and overcoming adversity—was the perfect gesture for a race like this. the rain-soaked chaos of canada had tested him, yet here he was, with a podium finish in his grasp.

lando swept a hand back through his drenched hair, letting out an exasperated sigh as he leaned back into the wall. it wasn't just the soggy track, or the keen competition that had made the race so hard today—it was always the pressure; the little things that crept in with each lap. yet now, his hands wrapped about the bouquet before him, with her words going round in his head, gave him a deep quiet strength.

he placed the flowers gently on the windowsill, then took a minute to absorb the comfort in that gesture. she wasn't there, but somehow in that little room, she was. she was with him and reminded him of when he would go through some really tough days; he would know he was capable of holding it together.

the poppies, resplendent even in the rain, were the perfect symbol of how far he'd come—and how far he would still go.

"thanks, lovie," he whispered to the empty room, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he stared out the window at the distant lights of the circuit.

𐙚. ݁₊⋆❀˖°

spain p2 - orchids [remain positive]

p2 in spain. what a wonderful day. and he had managed to get the fastest lap. that, he liked the most for some reason.

he was desperate for another win. well, actually, no. he wasn't desperate for it. he wanted to win, yes, and he knew that he would have to be patient for it, and work on it himself.

the bottom line was, he wanted to win.

he trusted the car, and he trusted his team. he would get opportunities in the future, and he will be able to win, he knows that. somewhere in his brain, he knows that.

yet, sometimes, there's a little crack in that knowing. that little fear of the unknown, that what if he doesn't win again till next season? or the season after that?

no. no. that wasn't true. lando was a good driver. he was adapting to being in a fast car, but he was a good driver, and he would get another win soon. yes. that's what he needed to believe, that's what he needed to tell himself over and over again.

jon did a good job of reminding him of that too. he somehow always knew when lando's thoughts were beginning to spiral, and pulled him out before it happened. thank god for jon, really.

when he stepped off the podium, his trophy in hand, jon stood there with a bouquet of orchids. lando smiled instantly, despite the exhaustion.

lando handed the trophy to jon, and took the bouquet from him, as he was escorted to the conference room for the interviews.

he stared at his flowers, as the interview began.

"we wanted to start with max, but lando, you've captured our attention," ted kravitz started.

lando immediately looked up. "huh?"

"we see you've got some flowers. any idea who they're from or is it a secret admirer?"

lando laughed, "no, they're from my girlfriend. she gets me flowers for every podium i get,"

"kelly's never got me flowers," max added from beside him.

"yeah? she's got to step up her game, mate," lando joked.

"definitely, man. kelly, if you're watching this, i want flowers,"

the room laughed.

"they're orchids, aren't they?" lewis asked.

lando nodded, "yeah. my girlfriend said it's so that i remain positive because there's a lot more races to come,"

"that's sweet, man," lewis said, as he leaned back.

lando bit his lip, as he nodded. cause, yeah. that is sweet. his girlfriend is sweet.

"anything you want to say to your girlfriend, lando? while we're here," ted asked.

"um, just wanna thank her, really. i get more excited about the flowers now, than the trophy,"

the crowd laughed again, and the interviews shifted to max.

lando continued to stare at his orchids.

𐙚. ݁₊⋆❀˖°

silverstone p3 - periwinkle [home]

it was his home race. he wanted to do well in his home race. and he did. p3 was not bad. he was proud of himself, and a little disappointed for not winning, but he was much happier for lewis.

lewis had driven amazingly, and despite the fact that he was lando's competitor, lando couldn't help but applaud for him.

at the parc ferme, he met with his team, hugging them, and then hugged his girlfriend for a little longer. she had pressed a kiss to his helmet, and he winked at her.

max and he were talking when lewis came, and the two immediately congratulated the brit on his drive. lewis looked like he was about to cry, and lando wondered if he would ever feel like that, that emotion of winning at a home race.

after the podium celebrations, lando went for media duties, feeling sticky and in a desperate need of a shower. when he returned, he quickly found his girlfriend, giving her a little kiss, before promising her to be back in a few.

opening the door to his driver's room, he smiled at the bouquet kept beside his trophy. picking them up, he smiled at the periwinkles.

"periwinkles for your home race," y/n's voice was heard from behind him, and he turned around to see her leaning against the door frame.

he smiled, walking towards her, as he wrapped her in a loose hug, and said, "home is where you are, baby,"

𐙚. ݁₊⋆❀˖°

hungary p2 - lotus [righteousness]

the team had fucked him over. the team had fucked him over so bad.

he didn't blame oscar. it wasn't oscar's fault. their strategy had been wrong, and they made a mistake. he was angry. he was angry at will for putting him in a position where either options felt wrong and right at the same time. he would never burst out on will, of course, and he knew he needed to control himself, but fuck fuck fuck, his team had fucked up.

lando reminded himself that he was the older driver now, the veteran. that meant it was upto him to make sure that oscar knew that the two of them were okay. and he did just that. he told oscar, showed him that there was no bad blood between the two of them, and lando wasn't mad at him.

he knew he was going to have to talk to andrea about the team orders later, but the exhaustion of the race was settling on his shoulders and he didn't want to do anything except go back home and cuddle with y/n.

that would fix everything.

after the celebrations, and the interviews, all lando wanted to do was go back to the hotel room and call y/n or max, and just rant. but, as soon as he walked in, a sort of disappointment added to the weight of his feelings already.

there was no bouquet. he'd gotten a podium. wasn't that the pattern that y/n was following? every time he got on the podium, she sent him flowers, right?

but, this time, there was nothing but one lone flower that wasn't even blooming. a deep hurt settled in his gut as he realised that maybe even his girlfriend was mad at him about the race and the way he responded with not giving oscar the position back immediately.

that somehow felt worse than the hate comments he'd been receiving on social media.

picking up the flower, he turned the card attached to it and read, "a lotus to represent the righteousness you showed on track. you did the right thing. i'm proud of you. would have been proud of you, regardless. i love you. y/n <3"

lando breathed a little easier. he let himself smile a little. she was proud of him. she thought he did the right thing. she was on his side.

how silly of him to think otherwise.

𐙚. ݁₊⋆❀˖°

netherlands p1 - amaryllis [to sparkle]

he did it. he did it again. yes, he lost the lead, but he got it back, and he created a 22 second gap, and he won. again.

finally.

he was happy, of course he was. though, what excited him more were the inevitable bouquet of flowers that would be in his drivers room. he couldn't wait to see what his girlfriend had chosen this time.

the trophy was huge, and it was heavy, but it was easily his favourite. the words written were all things he could relate to, and he was sure that every other driver could relate to it as well. it made him happy that there was someone out there, recognising the things they went through as sportsmen, or as a sportsperson.

excitedly, after the team celebrations, he ran to his drivers room, finding it full of flowers again, and he couldn't help but smile bigger than he already was.

it was just like miami, but this time, his girlfriend wasn't there with him. god, he missed her.

he video called her while he looked for the note, and just as he found it, her face filled his screen.

"lan!" she exclaimed, "you were so goddamn good! i'm so proud of you!"

"thank you, my lovie. hold on, i gotta read the card,"

"did you just get to the drivers room?"

lando nodded, as he flipped open the card.

it said, "hot damn, you were shining out there. some amaryllis for you to keep sparkling. i love you. y/n <3"

"y'know, this is my favourite part of getting on podiums now," lando said, as he pocketed the note.

"what? getting the flowers?" y/n joked.

"yes. getting the flowers from you." lando stared at her face on the screen, wishing he could kiss her in that moment.

"you're just saying that,"

"i'm really not," he settled on the floor, exhausted from the race, but he had a new found energy as he talked with his girlfriend. she was too excited to contain her reactions or yapping, and lando loved her more than anything to listen to every bit of it.

𐙚. ݁₊⋆❀˖°

italy p3 - lavender [calmness]

he didn't know what to feel. he was feeling a lot of things at the same time, and he didn't know which one to focus on first.

on one hand, he didn't blame oscar for wanting to prove himself to the world. he knew what it was like to enter the world of formula one with expectations on your shoulders that had no real reason being there. he knew that some of the fan comments had gotten to oscar, about how hungary was a gifted win and not earned on his own merit. he understood, really.

but that didn't mean that he was okay with the move he pulled on lando going into turn one. he had gotten way too close to lando's car, and if lando hadn't backed out even a little bit, the two would've crashed.

there was a championship fight on his shoulders, one that he didn't expect and didn't want. while he didn't want to win by his teammate letting him pass, he also did not expect his own teammate to pull a risky move like that.

the plan was a 1-2. they got a 2-3. it was a lot of points, but nearly not as much a 1-2 would have been.

really, lando would have been okay with only oscar had overtaken him. he would have been fine with that. what he wasn't okay with, was the fact that the move led to their competitor also overtaking them both.

that pissed him off a little bit.

he remained respectful in all the post race interviews, he praised his teammate, he did what was expected of him. he always did.

later, when he had a moment to himself in the drivers room, a knock interrupted him, and lando almost told the person to go away. he didn't want to deal with humans right now.

"lando? got something for you here," jon's voice rang.

sighing, lando stood up and opened the door. jon stood at the door, with a bouquet of lavenders in his hand.

"this got delivered for you. the delivery guy said that there was too much traffic on the way, so he couldn't get it on time, but here," jon gave the bouquet to lando before walking off.

lando stared at the flowers, as he closed the door and went back to his seat.

finding the folded note, it said, "lavenders for how calm you've been about it. good thing i wasn't there. i love oscar, i love you more. y/n <3"

lando smiled, and felt a little better. maybe a little more than just a little.

𐙚. ݁₊⋆❀˖°

singapore p1 - orange lilies [confidence]

lando was dizzy. singapore was always a difficult race physically, but it was always so fulfilling.

he led all 62 laps, created a 20 second gap. yes, he made some mistakes at a few places, but he was learning. lando was learning and he was proud of himself. he was so fucking proud of himself.

lando was thankful that max was here to watch him race. he needed that support. unfortunately, y/n couldn't be there, and as much as she tried to change her schedule to fit the race weekend, it just didn't work.

nevertheless, he'd spoken to her as soon as he got off the top step with his trophy in hand. how could he not?

later, when he found max, he laughed upon seeing his best friend. max fewtrell stood there with a bouquet of orange lilies in his hands, looking annoyed and endeared.

"mate, someone got me flowers but i have no idea who! pietra said it wasn't her!" max said, as soon as lando was close enough.

lando laughed, feeling a little bad as he was about break his best friend's heart, "max, they're not for you,"

"yes, they are! a random dude found me, asked if i was max fewtrell, and i said, yes, and he handed me this and walked off!"

"right. i love you, man, but did you see if there was a note by chance?"

max paused, before he checked the bouquet and found a folded note hidden.

lando wanted to tell him to hand it over. he didn't want anyone else to read what y/n had written for him, but he also knew that max wouldn't believe him unless he saw it with his own eyes.

"orange lilies because my god, you were so confident on track, im gonna jump you as soon as youre back. i love you. y/n." max read.

the two men paused, lando trying not to laugh as max stared at nothing for a few seconds.

and then, he pushed the bouquet against lando's chest and said, "i think these might be for you."

lando burst out laughing, as he accepted the bouquet.

𐙚. ݁₊⋆❀˖°

mexico p2 - yellow roses [friendship]

lando was so proud of carlos. his heart was bursting from the happiness he had for his friend.

it had been a shock at the start of the year when his friends had told him that carlos was no longer signed with ferrari. he hadn't been expecting it.

now, though, watching his friend win for what might be the last time for a while, because even though carlos fucking sainz is going to williams, their car isn't going to magically be one of the best next season. it's going to take time. but, williams now has carlos fucking sainz, so it might just happen sooner than they think.

the plan was that in the evening, the sainz family, and lando and luigi would go out for dinner, and then maybe hit a club after the older-older members of the family had gone back to the hotel.

for lando, all of them were old.

smiling wide, he stepped into his drivers room, ready to take a shower, and get ready for the evening dinner, when he saw the bouquet on the table.

yellow roses.

opening the card, it said, "for your carlando love. it might just be greater than landoy/n but i'm okay with that ;) give him a few of these from me, would you? i love you. y/n."

keeping the bouquet back carefully, he quickly got ready and removed a few of the flowers from the bouquet for carlos, before handing the actual bouquet to jon to keep at his hotel room safely.

later, carlos sent a picture to y/n, a selfie of carlos and lando, and the yellow roses between them.

𐙚. ݁₊⋆❀˖°

abu dhabi p1 - nasturtium [victory]

she stood near the paddock, patiently waiting for lando, with a bouquet of nasturtiums in her hands. this one, she wanted to give in person.

she had taken a chance when ordering the flowers. sure, there was a chance that mclaren wouldn't have won the constructors, and while it was a small chance, she didn't want to jinx anything accidentally.

but lando had been confident, and y/n knew that if lando was feeling confident while being under so much pressure, there was nothing that could stop him from achieving his dream today.

y/n chatted with his mum and sister, all of three of them smiling so widely. the three women recounted specific parts of the races, every thought process that was going on during the race, the adrenaline, the anxiety, everything.

when lando finally found the three of them together, he hugged his mum first, and y/n smiled. she watched the sweet interaction between them, before he moved on to his sister, who joked with him but told him how proud she was.

finally, he turned to her, smiling so wide, eyes shining, and a relief in his shoulders. she pushed the flowers towards him, and said, "they're called nasturtium. for your victory, for your team's victory."

lando accepted the flowers, smiling softly as he looked at the bouquet. he took a step towards his girlfriend, wrapping his arms around her waist, as she wrapped hers around his neck. she could feel the bouquet against her back, and the two of them just seemed to just move side to side a little.

"thank you for being here," he whispered in her ear.

"where else would i be?" she whispered back.

he pressed a kiss against her neck, before he pulled back and kissed her once. just a little peck of i love you.

smiling, she slid her hand down to his heart, and said, "you did it."

he smiled, "we did it."

𐙚. ݁₊⋆❀˖°

"what are these?"

"petals,"

"i see that, lando. where are they from?"

"a petal from every flower you've gifted me this year,"

"you saved them?"

"of course."

𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

fun fact: the spain gp on 2024 was on my birthday! anyways, i feel like this got a little repetitive, but like, if kando was real, i'd buy him flowers all the time! i probably have messed up somewhere with the details, but i'm too far gone to make edits. sorry 🤷‍♀️ lemme know what you think of it! this is my prompt list, so y'all can select a number, give me a driver and i will write it as soon as possible! i also have a google form for a taglist if anyone's interested! you can sent in your requests here :)

taglist: @imlonelydontsendhelp ; @greantii ; @anamiad00msday ; @maketheshadowsfearyou ; @nocturnalherb16 ; @justaf1girl ; @peterholland04 ; @phobiccneel ; @winkev1 ; @alexxavicry

#lando norris #f1 #formula 1 #ln4 #formula one #f1 imagine #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fluff #ln4 x reader #ln x reader #ln #ln x y/n #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic

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onlyswan · 9 months ago

Text

summary: in which for you, jungkook would commit crimes and his mother would peel oranges.

idol!jk x reader | fluff, angst | word count: 9.5k

warnings/content: oc passes out in the shower / jk does something crazy i’m literally insane about this / baby bam cameo 🥺 / stitches >:( / blood draw / mention of speeding / jealous not but rlly jealous oc is pissed owfffff at the nurse who has a crush on jk lmao / jk and his mom loves them to death tho so obv who wins / love is beautiful let’s all cry <3

> in which masterlist!

note: *sitcom sound effect of crowd cheering* I’M BACK 🥰 hope u enjoy the product of my madness during finals season hehehe. and special thanks to my cutieful proofreader rio!! you’re one of my most favorite people i’ve ever met 🥺💕 + my beloveds who came to the rescue when i had medical questions !! i didn’t expect to receive help from soooo many and i’m so freaking grateful i could cri :")

—

“i ordered it the other day. how did it arrive so early?”

jungkook walks back inside the apartment, arms occupied by a stack of boxes that arrived in the mail yesterday.

he arrives at the living room, head tilting to the side in confusion when he realizes that the netflix show he was watching on the television is no longer playing. instead, there is the news channel.

he gasps.

“baby, you’re alive!”

your swollen eyes flicker up to him.

you’re lying on the sofa with your legs lazily dangling on the edge. there’s a toothbrush in your mouth, foam of bubbles between your lips, but your arm barely exerts the energy to make it do its job.

“you were asleep from afternoon to morning. do you know that? you’ve never done that before!” he exclaims, carelessly tossing the boxes on the floor. “i was getting scared!”

you only hum to acknowledge his existence, pushing yourself up from the sofa and unknowingly dodging the hug your boyfriend wanted to greet you with.

he ends up collapsing face first on the empty space you left, hurt and offended.

the bathroom door opens and closes.

he flips over, whining. “yah, we didn’t see each other for a day. didn’t you miss me?!”

still not a single word from you. sleeping that long must not have cured your exhaustion, jungkook surmises. you tend to be glum and cranky when you’re feeling unwell, as is usually the case when you wake up as unrested as before.

he doesn’t always know how to make you feel better, but he always tries anyway.

“our new bedsheets arrived!” he announces from the other side of the bathroom door, making himself loud so that you can hear him despite the shower running. “do you want to unbox them with me?!”

he allows the seconds to pass, but with his hands on his hips, he eventually begins to tap his foot on the floor.

“baby? may i go in?”

he turns the knob, just to be prepared incase the answer is a yes, but it doesn’t turn. a sad pout forms on his face.

huh? why is it locked?

you must genuinely don’t want to be bothered today.

“guess that’s a no.” he mutters to himself before calling out to you. “okay, i’ll wait for you!”

with a crestfallen sigh, he begins to walk back to the living room.

he doesn’t go far, however.

only several steps later, a series of loud crashes is heard from the bathroom and his heart thunders in his chest with a combination of numbing shock and fear.

“____, what was that?! did you fall?!”

he aggressively pounds at the door, extremely desperate this time around. he has no plans on leaving until he knows that you’re safe and sound.

“baby! open this! are you alright…? are you hurt? you’re scaring me. please, answer!”

he pauses, catching his breath as his mind runs a thousand miles per hour.

“____!”

he strikes the door with an open palm one more time, more so to express his frustration that is only growing worse with every tick of the clock. he only ends up hurting himself in the process.

“that’s it! i’m opening the door!”

he frantically whips his head around, racking his brain for the location of the key. there are two copies of it somewhere in the apartment, but in his panicked state, he is unable to pinpoint either of their specific spots. and he can’t fucking afford to waste any more time.

“ah, fuck!” he curses, left with no other choice but to give in to the instinct of breaking down the door with the strength and durability of his body alone.

he would most definitely break his shoulder first before the door.

only after the first try, that much is clear.

and so, with madness inconsiderate of his agony, he resorts to kicking it over and over again.

the repeated loud collisions rattles poor bam from his slumber. not long after, the dog’s barking creates a booming dissonance with his grunts and kicks at the door.

when it finally swings open, the force of his own body sends him stumbling on the bathroom floor, but he doesn’t waste time in bouncing back to his feet.

the twisting of his stomach is instantaneous.

there lies your naked, unconscious figure behind the glass— surrounded by bottles of hair and body products that must have fallen when your hands were searching for something to hold on to.

his voice cracks, breathless.

“baby, no… no, no, no.”

he kneels on the floor, and despite the strong urge to carry you out of there, he tries to calm down. it’s the first rule in every emergency case; professionals reiterate in seminars and news channel segments.

keep calm. keep calm. keep calm.

he won’t be able to forgive himself if he ends up causing more harm than good.

“____, can you hear me?!”

his instinct tells him to inspect every inch of you for any sign of injury, but then his vision becomes too blurry. he curses at the hindrance and forces himself to turn off the showerhead that was left running.

he harshly wipes his face, rushing back to you.

“please, please, please. wake up.” he begs.

he has a feeling that it’s futile. you can’t hear him and he’s wasting his breath. the thing is he doesn’t know what else to do.

“baby…”

he carefully turns your head over, almost relieved because he hasn’t seen blood so far.

almost.

at last, he gets a full view of your face, and he finds blood dripping. this has always been one of his most paralyzing fears— seeing you get hurt. now that it’s become a reality, there’s a part of him that wants to believe this is some kind of twisted dream.

“how- how did this even happen…?” he cries out, his own blood running cold.

for everything that happens after, his body acts on its own. bam is a constant presence in his peripheral, but he is barely in his right mind to acknowledge the presence aside from, “bam, move. daddy might step on you.”

he carries you out of the bathroom, kicking aside the beaten up door. he has made up his mind about bringing you to the hospital, but he can’t bring you like… this.

he lays you down on the bed, all that gentleness switched off in a split second so he can sprint to the walk-in closet. he hastily grabs whatever is on top of your neatly folded stacks of shirts and pants; and then a fresh towel on the way out. the gentleness returns as he pats your face dry, the pure white stained with dark red. he flips the towel and uses the other side to wipe the rest of your body, in a race against time but mindful of treating you like fragile glass.

once that is over, he dresses you in a pair of gray sweatpants, and with some difficulty, an orange t-shirt.

any person with functioning eyes will be able to tell that the shades don’t go together.

if you were conscious, you’d definitely berate him for making you wear this outfit.

but you’re not.

jungkook effortlessly swoops you in his arms— dripping wet hair, his and yours, leaving behind a trail of raindrops from your apartment floor to the cemented parking lot.

—

your body feels like it’s floating.

are you dreaming…?

you must be dreaming.

you hear an uncoordinated symphony of voices, but you can’t comprehend a word. in pursuit of clarity, you force yourself to open your eyes.

the voices grow a little louder. faceless figures hover you; a bright light shines over your face.

your senses must be playing cruel tricks. now it feels like you’re drowning, sinking into the unknown, and your body has succumbed into numbing defeat.

you want to sleep a little more.

you must truly be exhausted. it’s okay.

you’ve fought hard until now. you’ve done enough… has anyone tried in life as much as you did?

just as your eyes flutter shut, you regain sensation of your hand; a soft squeeze and a call of your name.

—

jungkook gently strokes your hair, sighing for the nth time since you got transferred to a private room. he’s relieved that all the scans came back clean so serious head and brain injuries have been ruled out. the doctor also asked him questions and ran some other tests before concluding that electrolyte imbalance caused you to pass out; the culmination of stress and fatigue from work, as well as your strong period, most likely being the main reasons. he didn’t even know about the latter until you stained the white sheets with blood.

it was fucking frightening being in the sidelines as they rushed to check on your vitals and to administer oxygen. even now, it’s unbearable to see you with a needle in your hand and a few stitches above your eyebrow. he already anticipated you not being pleased with having to get stitches specifically either; gasping and sitting up as soon as you heard the word come from his lips post-consciousness. consequently, the dizziness hits you. the doctor wasn’t happy about that.

“this is so annoying. i don’t want a scar.” you whine as you study your face on the camera of jungkook’s phone. “did i have to fall on my prettier side?”

“what are you saying? you’re pretty from any angle.” he interjects. “be careful. the wound might open up.”

you jut out your bottom lip, looking up at him with glassy eyes. the sight instantly tugs at his heartstrings, and he pulls you in for a hug. maybe he’s a little sad that you don’t appear concerned about the fact that you passed out, but god is he relieved to finally hear your voice again.

“ah, i should call the doctor.”

but his face remains buried in your hair.

“they told me to do so.”

“you should-”

“why?!” he abruptly reacts, drawing back. “does anything hurt?”

“chill. you said that they told you to.”

“oh, that’s right.” he sheepishly smiles. he can’t help but to overreact; he hasn’t turned off the alarms in his head. “i’ll go tell the nurse to get her.”

he starts to walk towards the door, but a tug at his shirt holds him back.

you shyly look at him with a scrunch of your nose. “i’m nervous. hug me for five more seconds.”

fuck, he would move heaven and earth to protect you from everything that can cause you harm.

“why would you be nervous? i’m right here.” he scolds you lightheartedly, not hesitating to seize the chance to hug you again. “i love you.”

“i love you more.”

you pull away after five seconds, and he’d be disappointed about you being too true to your words if you didn’t kiss him on the cheek so ardently.

his heart almost jumps out of his chest when you gasp out of nowhere as if you just realized that you left the gas tank open at home. your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets.

“bam!”

oh, right. your child.

“my brother’s house!” he eases your mind.

you breathe out in relief, the heel of your palm pressing against the left side of your chest where your heart lives. “good… i was worried. he was probably more scared because he didn’t understand what was going on. i feel bad.”

you love bam so much; it makes him so happy. you’re so concerned about him even when you’re the one on the hospital bed. you make pretty good parents, huh?

“that’s right. he was worried about you, too. that’s why you need to recover quickly so he won’t be sad!”

—

the doctor kindly asked jungkook to give the two of you some time alone, so he’s been idly sitting at the lobby after buying a bottle of water. he’s pretty much used to visiting the hospital for routine checkups considering the nature of his job, but it always feels strange to be here for the other different purposes of the place.

is there any other building sadder than this?

if you heard him utter this question, he could easily predict what you’d say: but is there any other building with more love?

if he tries hard enough, he could listen to your voice and paint you in his mind.

you see love in every place that you step foot into.

his curious eyes continue to wander around. he spots people carrying flowers, baskets, and containers of food. there’s also a teenage boy in his high school uniform, carrying a teddy bear larger than him.

not that he wants you to stay longer, but if you have to, he writes down a mental note to bring one of your favorite plushies.

he eventually gets tired; considers scrolling on his phone again, but he decides against it when his gaze lands on a little boy sleeping soundly on his mother’s lap. suddenly, he is reminded of his childhood before he moved to seoul.

how simple life can be when you’re innocently sleeping on your mother’s lap, trusting that everything will be alright.

“ah, i miss my mom…” he utters absentmindedly. “i miss my mom so much. i should call her.”

his reminiscing is interrupted when a wheelchair rolls by infront of him. it is leisurely being pushed by an old man who wants to bring his wife outside for some fresh air.

in a parallel universe somewhere, jungkook can imagine them as you and him.

he sits up straight, looking back at the clock on the wall.

how long has it been? he wants to be by your side again.

—

“jungkook!” your face lights up as soon as your boyfriend steps into the room. “what took you so long?”

“i know. sorry, baby. i got a little distracted outside.”

“i’ve been waiting.” you pout. “why? were people bothering you?”

“not at all. don’t worry.”

you pat the empty space beside you. “here.”

“i think the bed is meant for only one person- damn, okay, okay-”

he swiftly gives in upon seeing the hurt on your face, occupying the space you reserved for him. “i love you. don’t be sad.”

you’re aching too much to wait for him to get settled. you wrap your arms around his waist like you’re a magnet attracted to steel, clinging to him for comfort.

if you’re being honest, you don’t know how you feel about being in this situation. overwhelmed? maybe a tiny bit relieved. in the past, it didn’t matter whether you were sick or not. you needed to work or else it was guaranteed that you wouldn’t survive. life is easier now. you have the luxury to use this as a reason to take a break. you have someone who takes care of you as naturally as he breathes.

“how was the doctor?”

“she’s nice… she just asked me about the things i remember before i passed out. then about my work, diet, sleeping schedule… stuff like that.”

you pull away a little, just enough so you can see each other’s face. you squint at him suspiciously. “did you have to get an expensive room?”

he chuckles. “how did you know? they didn’t tell you that, did they?”

“i literally have the perfect view of the fountain from here!” you point at the large window behind you. “i just passed out. i would’ve been fine downstairs.”

“don’t say it like that. it could’ve been so much worse.” he says with knitted eyebrows, palm cupping the back of your head and caressing softly.

he heaves a sigh.

“i was so scared that you injured your head. seriously, i thought i’d go insane if i lost you! i went past the speed limit driving you here!”

the distress he was under is apparent. you can’t help but to be racked with the guilt. you always do this, making him worry himself to death. you don’t usually do it purpose, and that only makes you feel shittier.

“you’re right. i’m sorry.”

“well, i…” he sighs. “it’s okay. i know you didn’t want this either. it’s not your fault.”

you press your lips into a thin line. “it kind of is.”

your lost eyes meet, and a connection is established like it’s a constellation sending a secret message. your heart flutters when he giggles, dimples and starry eyes and crinkled corners.

“stop it. it’s impossible to scold you when you’re so cute and self-aware.”

“then don’t scold me.” you sniffle sadly to kindle pity in him. “i’ve had enough of it from the doctor.”

your brain still works well enough to help you escape from trouble. that’s a good sign, right?

“my poor baby.” he coos, cradling your cheeks.

his hands are warm. you put yours over them; a wordless signal telling him you don’t want him to go away.

“let’s not get hurt again, please. we need to stay healthy and take good care of ourselves so this won’t happen again, alright?”

you nod in obedience. your eyes are fixed on him but you’re not certain if you’re registering what he’s telling you in your pitiful, shaken brain.

“the hospital already did me many favors. if we go back, i might have to build them another fountain as a gift.”

and knowing jungkook, with his golden heart and his black card, jokes become half-meant.

“what do they need that for?!”

he bursts out laughing, yet again, after you chide at him for his ridiculous and unnecessary expenses.

“nothing, i’m just grateful! i was really so scared but i’m relieved now thanks to them. i can’t remember the last time i felt that way.”

“you’re not scared of a lot of things.” you point out.

“that’s right.” he agrees. “only you scare me these days.”

you grimace. “am i scary?”

“you are, sometimes.” he laughs, squishing your cheeks together. “but i mean the things that could hurt you.”

as if on cue, your stomach grumbles and bellows like a monster stuck in an empty cave. your eyes grow twice its size in bewilderment, which then morphs into embarrassment.

“my stomach hurts.” you say quietly.

your nostrils flare as jungkook miserably fails to hold back his laughter. one of his hands leave your face, rubbing your tummy over the thin hospital gown.

“oh no, what are we going to do? where does it hurt? here?” he pouts. “should we go feed you now to make it go away?”

“what is wrong with you?” you slap his shoulder in annoyance. “i’m not a baby!”

“yah, be careful!” he yells, wincing as if he is the one in pain. “be gentle with the one with the iv!”

—

“you know one good thing that came out of this?” you gush out of nowhere.

you’re mixing up the ingredients of your bibimbap bowl with a spoon and a pair of chopsticks.

jungkook noisily drinks the final sips of his banana milk. afterwards, he makes a game out of shooting the box in the trash bin.

“what could that be?” he asks, doubtful.

he sits on the chair beside your bed. you greet him with a delighted grin, licking your thumb stained with gochujang.

“you proved your love. you committed a crime for me.”

he gasps to humor you, body freezing as if he’s currently processing the newly-learned information in his brain.

“oh? you’re right- i did! and you know what? i’d do it again!”

with a mouthful of rice, you shake your head in disagreement furiously. “you’re cute. but that’s the first and last.”

“but how are you sure that it’s the first?” he raises an eyebrow quizically.

silly enough, you envy him for being able to do so.

you hum in thought. “i guess you’ve stolen a few things for me, too.”

“few? you mean a loooot?”

“you’re the one who brings home food and random things.” you roll your eyes. “i never ask you to.”

“you told me you wanted the service bell!”

you feel yourself become flushed with sheepishness. he’s not lying. you’ve always found the object fascinating as a child, so you couldn’t help but to tell him to sneakily take one home after filming a competitive run bts episode.

did you have a silly phase where you and jungkook used it to summon each other just to laugh together about it?

perhaps.

“well, you’re rich. you could’ve bought me one instead.”

“but it was already there.” he reasons with a wide grin, gesturing infront of him. “i wanted to give it to my lover right away.”

his lover?

jungkook has successfully replaced your frown with an enamored smile.

“i made your heart flutter just now, didn’t i?”

a hospital stay has never felt this comfortable— not terrifying. you have stitches on your face and to add to that, this hospital gown feels super unflattering. somehow, your boyfriend’s loving gaze remains steady and you are melting.

“shut up,” you mutter, flustered, handing him the pair of chopsticks. “please eat with me. i can’t finish this on my own.”

—

“why would you let them put the needle in my dominant hand?”

you stomp your feet on the ground as jungkook squeezes some toothpaste onto a newly-bought toothbrush.

“i’m sorry! i was too stressed out so i just pointed! i think i got confused with- with left and right.”

you didn’t realize this while you were eating; that you were unconsciously holding the spoon with your non-dominant hand because the other felt uncomfortable. maybe because it was a simple task, scooping food and bringing it to your mouth. brushing your teeth, on the other hand… can be quite an arm workout.

“eeeee!”

he shows his complete set of teeth, urging you to do the same. you stare at him blankly.

“eeeee!” he repeats with heightened enthusiasm.

left with no other choice— you copy his awkward smile.

“there we go!” he praises you with an over-enthusiastic beam.

he carries on to brush your teeth, gingerly holding your chin to keep you steady as he does his job.

this is the first time jungkook is doing this for you. today is definitely not one of your finest moments. it feels a bit silly to be in this situation, and you feel bad for putting your boyfriend in this position in the first place. you can see that he’s trying his best—unnecessarily focused—and that he loves you, but you just hate giving him a hard time.

with a soft smile, he wipes the bubbles that overflowed past your lips.

“okay, spit.”

you spit out more of the bubbles on the sink. you assume that he’s finished, except he’s making another vowel sound for you to mimic the mouth shape of.

“ahhhh-”

“this is embarrassing!”

“baby, really? this is where you draw the line?” he playfully squeezes your cheeks together. “it’s almost over! ahhhh!”

and you let him do this thing, but not without a glare that is masking the embarrassing truth: you might be enjoying this more than you care to admit.

“see? was that so bad?”

as he tenderly pats your face dry in the aftermath, he says: “i’m sorry. bear with it a little more. let me take care of you so you’ll be healthy again.” and you feel every ounce of his sincerity pierce through the barriers surrounding your soul.

“stop it…” your voice suddenly comes out broken.

you want to put all the blame on your period for the tears that are now brimming your eyes, but jungkook is your biggest weakness of all and that is an explanation enough.

“why are you crying?” he panics. “what did i say?”

“it’s your fault.”

you break down into loud sobs, incapable of even keeping your eyes open. you never understood why we close our eyes when we cry, but right now, you know that you can’t bear to witness his reaction.

“you’re so sweet.”

the towel that was wiping the water from your mouth is now drying the tears from your stained cheeks.

“am i making you sad?”

you furiously shake your head. how could he say such a thing? he is the greatest joy of your life.

“no?”

“no!”

“okay, come here then.”

he wraps his arms around your trembling figure, caging you in the solace of his entire existence. a sense of calmness washes over your system, especially as he runs his hand across your back in gentle strokes. this isn’t his goal though, it seems. you hear none of his quiet shushes beseeching you to stop breaking his heart. he hopes you let go of everything that has been weighing on you, but he has already eased all your pains by loving you.

“ugh, i probably look horrible right now.” you force a chuckle to lighten up the mood, wiping your face with the back of your free hand. “i feel gross.”

“that’s not true.” he gazes at you fondly, brushing your hair with his fingers. “it’s actually infuriating how you look so beautiful still.”

“i know. i’m nice to look at; that’s why you tolerate my attitude.” you conclude in jest.

“yeah, sometimes.” he rides on the joke.

“what…?”

“i’m joking!” he rushes to take it back with a laugh. “of course i’m joking!”

you pout. “are you really?”

“oh, come onnnn.”

he coaxes you with a kiss on the lips— a good morning kiss long overdue. you��ve been spoiled rotten with affection; he knows you need more than one. he interrupts himself several times to kiss you.

“you know i’ll love you until our hair turns white and our skin all wrinkly.”

to be brutally honest, you’re not fond of imagining that far ahead. it’s daunting. you doubt your capability to age with grace. you’re horrified by the thought of having the majority of your life behind you. nostalgia has always been more bitter than sweet. but maybe this memory could be the sweetest of all, if jungkook truly stays by your side until then. in a cottage at the countryside like he said once, or a cabin by the ocean.

you’re both so young; so arrogant when it comes to making promises that are a shot in the dark. so fucking in love.

“me too.” you half-smile, scrunching your nose— a telltale sign of your joy. “now, get out. i really need to pee.”

his face becomes drained of blood. “but you’re st-”

“i won’t lock the door this time.” you cup his cheek, looking at his eyes reassuringly. “we don’t need property damage added to the bill.”

—

“did you not hurt yourself?”

“me?”

“you broke down the door. that’s not easy to do.”

you and jungkook make the best out of a bad deal. you’re squeezed together on the bed, browsing through television channels that seem to never end.

“it was easy because you were on the other side of it.”

that is what he claims confidently, but you are not fully convinced.

“wow, why do they have more channels than we do at home?”

“you didn’t answer my question.” you pout. “did you hurt yourself?”

“i didn’t hurt myself. i’m totally okay. i promise.”

he maintains eye-contact as he speaks. given the assurance, your tight chest unrestricts. jungkook is not a good liar. it’s a trait that causes him inconvenience every now and then, but it helps you to sleep soundly at night.

“should we just watch funny animal videos on youtube?”

“i guess that’s fine.”

it doesn’t show but you feel excitement run in your veins aside from the iv fluids that feel peculiarly cold.

from under your cheek, his chest vibrates with a giggle. “okay, hold on.”

as he pulls up the application, you tangle your legs together beneath the thin blanket. you hear the rapid tap tap tap of the remote control navigating the keypad while he types on the search bar, but your attention is someplace else. you’ve found the crook of his neck to sneak into, lazily kissing every inch of his exposed skin. your lips eventually trail up to his jaw. he smells so nice. you’re addicted.

“baby, someone can enter any minute.”

“i’m not doing anything.” you mumble.

you smile against his lips when he gives you a kiss as sweet as honey anyway.

“i’m curious about another thing.”

“what’s that?”

“did you cry?”

he comes to a still. the answer to that question requires a little time and thought.

“almost…”

“why almost?”

“no time. i had to bring you here, of course.” he replies.

you huff a laugh, exhaling a twinge of melancholia. “don’t cry.”

“i won’t. i’m happy now because you’re awake and fighting with me.”

“ow-”

your cry of pain is silenced when he squeezes you in an embrace that makes it nearly impossible to breathe.

“red panda!”

a squeal assaults both of your hearing as soon as your eyes land on the wide screen infront of the bed.

“i want one so fucking bad.”

the enunciated curse makes your boyfriend crack up in amusement. “that much?!”

—

jungkook opens his eyes to a nurse lightly nudging him awake.

“i’m sorry, i had to wake you up. i need to check vitals and draw blood.”

“shit, i’m sorry.” he panics.

his brain is foggy from the nap, but he still carefully sits up on the bed, wary of the iv line connected to your hand.

“i… was tired and i fell asleep.”

“it’s no problem; don’t worry.”

she smiles at him, but he doesn’t see it.

“you look adorable sleeping.”

“ah, really?” he awkwardly responds, absentminded. “it’s embarrassing.”

he stands on your side, about to disturb your peaceful rest much as it makes his heart ache with guilt, but you’re already stirring due to the absence of his warmth.

your heavy eyelids blink at the nurse in curiosity. “oh… do you need my blood?”

“yes, but i’ll take your blood pressure and temperature first.”

“okay,” you mumble, offering your arm. “it might be higher now because i’m scared.”

she chuckles at your joke. jungkook tries to share an endeared look with her and non-verbally communicate adorable, right?

“i promise i’ll be quick. although we definitely want it to be higher than earlier’s.”

you wince as the cuff around your upper arm goes as tight as it could, and you sigh at the same time that it begins to deflate.

“good, good, good,” she chants with a mumble. “it’s back in the normal range again…”

she brings out a digital thermometer from her pocket.

“you know where this goes.”

she hands it over to you, and you awkwardly place it in your armpit, holding it in place. it’s quiet as you wait for the device to make the beeping sound, except for her pen creating friction with your chart as she takes down notes.

“how’s your stitches? do you feel any discomfort?”

“it’s fine. thank you.”

not long after, you hear the beep. you return the thermometer to her, but not before taking a peak at the numbers displayed on the tiny screen. 36.8°C. you think you’ll live.

“i’ll draw your blood now.”

the nurse’s voice is sweet and reassuring, but it doesn’t quite ease the nervousness evident on your expression. your pupils shake as you watch her disinfect the area, and then comes out the long needle.

another one, jungkook laments inside.

“____, i’m right here.”

you crane your head, whimpering out his name. “jungkook,”

“it will be just a pinch. i’m inserting the needle now, alright?”

you take a sharp inhale.

if only he could switch positions with you, he would do it in a heartbeat. unfortunately, all he can do is caress your hair and whisper that it will be over soon.

“it hurts.” your damp eyelashes flutter, face twisting in discomfort. “i don’t like it.”

really, just a pinch? obviously a lie.

“hey, baby. look at the tv.”

the autoplay was left turned on after you fell asleep together. inside the screen is a puppy rolling around a snow-covered lawn. the wagging of its tail, the wide smile, and the pupils as big as boba balls: they all scream the happiness of an innocent.

“it’s so cute… i miss bam already. can we go to a dog park again?”

“of course!”

that promise sparks your smile. you turn to your side, and jungkook also catches a glimpse of the cotton taped to where you were poked.

“all done. you can go back to resting.”

“thank you. will you need to take blood again?” you inquire at the nurse.

“hm, probably. it depends on the doctor based on the results we get from this one.”

“can’t you just do it while i’m asleep? or is that not allowed?”

“baby…” jungkook snorts, hiding his face behind the palm of his hands.

the nurse laughs at your desperate suggestion. “that is honestly not a rare request, but the thing is… you might wake up in the middle of it and injure yourself. we can’t do that.”

“that won’t be a problem!” you passionately argue your case. “i’m a deep sleeper. seriously!”

“ah, thank you so much for your hard work!”jungkook intervenes, bowing to the nurse out of respect and gratitude. “i’m sure you’re busy. i will handle this!”

“oh yes, yes- thank you. please don’t forget the medicine for after dinner.”

“i won’t!”

“if you need anything, you know where to find me again.”

“yes,” he nods, chuckling. “thank you.”

“then i should leave…? but you’ll see me again later! bye!”

the door shuts, and his attention lands on your unimpressed form: a blank stare and arms folded infront of your chest.

uh-oh.

“did she seriously wink while saying that?”

“what?” he freezes, genuinely clueless. “i don’t know. i didn’t see anything. i was looking at you.”

“i’m right here- i’m the patient. why would you need anything from her? huh? why is she so excited to see you again?” you ramble angrily.

“right?!”

he climbs on the bed, reclaiming his spot next to you.

“that was weird.”

“what if she made it hurt on purpose? that…” you frown, glancing at your arm. “that didn’t really feel like a pinch to me.”

“ey, calm down. she wouldn’t.” he makes a doubtful face, laughing off the accusation. “…i don’t think so?”

you blink, exhaling in disbelief. “are you taking her side now?”

“of course not! baby, i’m just saying… a professional won’t do that.”

“why not? she’s still human. humans do stupid things when they like someone. she obviously likes you.”

“and so what?”

he grins with a spark of mischief, leaving an inch of a distance between your lips.

“i’m obviously yours.”

but you turn your cheek and your eyes fall on your lap, a pout highlighting your downcast mood.

“it’s so annoying.”

the regret sinks in after. he should’ve stuck to the golden rule: agree with everything that you say. there’s no point in having an argument no one will win. does it matter who’s right and wrong if each other’s sadness is contagious in addition to their own? your gut has almost always been right, and he’s old enough to be conscious of not allowing a stranger to put a dent on your relationship.

“are you serious? are you uncomfortable?” he tilts his head to try and get a better look at your face. “should i request for a different nurse?”

it’s quiet for a beat and he feels inclined to fill the silence with whatever enters his mind.

“i love you.”

almost immediately, your features soften and he knows your heart is also melting. the two of you bite the inside of your cheeks to hide a smile.

“no, there’s no need for that.”

but he still can’t help but to be worried. your peace of mind is his top priority. he doesn’t want you to be more stressed out, especially by things that he has the power to solve.

“are you sure?”

“she pissed me off. i need to piss her off too.”

of course, his ever stubborn and competitive lover. he sits up properly, amused and curious.

“and how will you do that?”

“i don’t know,” you nonchalantly shrug. “i’ll come up with something.”

—

“come up with what?”

to your surprise, a voice you haven’t heard in weeks echoes from the door.

“mom…?”

you’re stunned after only hearing yourself react to jungkook’s mother’s unexpected entrance. your head whips to his direction; your eyes wordlessly interrogating him.

“i need to go to work so i called her to watch over you.” he explains.

“why would you do that?” you argue with him as quietly as possible, lips barely moving as you try to hide your face from your mother-in-law. again, not one of your finest moments. “you didn’t have to. i can take care of myself.”

“but you don’t have to because you have us.”

jungkook marks the conversation finished with a kiss pressed to your temple, leaving you dumbfounded. he jumps off the bed and for a split second, you make eye-contact with his mother before he towered over her for a quick hug.

her kind smile is embroidered in your memory; a memory that wraps your heart in a type of warmth only a mother can provide.

“mom! i’m sorry. i really, really, really need to leave now. but! i’ll try to come back early so you can go home early too.”

“aigoo, stop stressing yourself out.”

jungkook receives a slap on the back, somehow more loving can scolding.

“i can stay the night so do what you need to do. you don’t have to worry.”

“it’s not only because i’m worried!”

she sassily puts a hand over her waist. it takes everything in you not to laugh out loud.

“then what else?”

“mom! what else?” he cheekily smiles. “of course i’ll miss ____ too much.”

did your boyfriend just…? to his mother? your jaw becomes slack from the shame.

“i missed ____ too!” she contests. “go to work and give us our alone time.”

you shyly smile when she transfers her attention from her son to you.

“hello, my baby. are you hungry?”

—

“does my son feed you well?”

“he does! but it’s funny- other mothers ask the opposite. are you feeding my son well? do you make sure he’s comfortable?”

you think out loud, transfixed on how she peels oranges with ease. your hands would always be stained by the juices, (and eyes red and teary from accidental splashes) (it’s too embarrassing to even think about) but hers are still magically clean.

“is that so?”

you graciously accept the slice she feeds you. she laughs when your face lights up like a christmas tree one more time. it’s way sweeter than you anticipated. you can’t get over how delicious it is.

“mhmm!”

perhaps you relied too much on dramas when it came to your expectations of what a relationship with your in-laws would look like. you imagined yourself running around like a dog trying to prove yourself worthy of their son, yet for some reason, it looks like they adore you for simply existing. it makes you feel extremely grateful, but you don’t understand.

“mom, i have a question… i know it’s probably too late to ask this now, but…”

“what could that be?”

“are you really not against me and jungkook living together?” you swallow your fear of the possibility of an unpleasant truth. “are you not… worried… that i’m receiving too much from him?”

because you would understand the apprehension. as a parent, one’s main concern would be their child. to outside eyes, it’s easy to come to the conclusion that jungkook is being taken advantage of and he’d be better off dating someone with the same status. sometimes you wish you were that someone too.

she utters your name sadly.

“he receives happiness and love from you. those are the most valuable things you could give to a person.”

she caresses your hair like she wants to erase the anxiety poisoning your mind.

“my dear, how come you’re worried about that until now? haven’t we told you? you’re part of the family. forget about my sister! i don’t welcome her negativity in our house!”

“living together is different. it’s a big deal. it normally happens in a relationship after…” the following words feel foreign in your mouth; they come out quieter than the rest of your sentence. “getting married.”

“then tell me. why did you agree to live with him?”

because you’re selfish. because you want more time that you can have him all to yourself. because you want to be accessible— the first person he runs to when he’s seeking comfort and stability. because you want goodnight and good morning kisses. because you were afraid of the risks but you’ve grown addicted to the thrill of love.

“he said… no matter how hard i push him away, he will stay within my reach.”

you hear your own shaky breathing. that moment— it’s still burned into your memory. you’re still holding on to it. it’s a promise he is yet to break and you pray that he never, ever does.

“i don’t want to push him away. i want to be within his reach too.”

you’re two people loving each other with everything within your means. after the endless pains and the deafening noise, you like to think that’s what makes this relationship worth fighting for.

“does my opinion still matter knowing that? will you let me stop you?”

“no, i won’t. i’d make you change your mind.”

if you had a machine connected to you, she would see how your heart rate has gone off the charts. but you’re known to say whatever’s on your mind and that, much to your dismay, isn’t switched off despite sitting infront of the woman who birthed and raised the love of your life.

you sniffle, pursing your lips nervously. “but i feel like there might be a right answer to that one.”

what you didn’t expect was her to laugh until her belly hurts; placing a hand over her mouth in an effort to calm herself down and keep grace.

“mom! stop, i’m so embarrassed!”

“no, ____, don’t get me wrong!”

she is teary-eyed as she gathers herself together.

“the more time i spend with you, the more i realize why jungkook loves you so much. i’ve seen him show incredible commitment twice. do you know that? first, when he went to seoul to become a singer. second, when he told us he got an apartment because he wants to be with you… of course, as his mother, i’ll admit that he’s young when he made those decisions, but he always proves to me that he’s smart and responsible.”

the urge to cry returns and strengthens as she speaks. you feel your eyelashes become damp with unshed tears. you don’t know how to act. you fiddle with your fingers. you stare at the strings and peels of the oranges you can still taste.

“i believe we both know jungkook’s personality well. he wouldn’t have let me stop him either. i’m happy to know that you’ll fight for him too.”

“thank you…”

“tsk, tsk, tsk- what is there to cry about? jungkook will get angry at me if he discovers that i made you cry.”

she wipes away your tears; however, the unmistakable scent of oranges that has clung to her hands and the affection in her tone bring forth a waterfall.

“seeing this makes me sadder.” she laments, referring to the stitches on your face.

“me too,” you babble in the midst of quiet sobs. “it makes me sad. it’s so ugly.”

—

you can’t remember the last time you felt this alone. perhaps it’s the effect of staying in an unfamiliar building of complete strangers. without your mobile phone, may you add. you managed to persuade jungkook’s mother to leave an hour ago because you didn’t want her to sleep on the uncomfortable couch.

the lights are turned off except for the lamp beside your bed, and with the television muted, you could hear a hairpin drop.

you’re alone and you can do whatever you want.

you dragged the visitor’s chair infront of the window to admire the garden like it’s a painting in motion. you watched people converse, stroll, and drink coffee. you watched them run for shelter when the clouds became too heavy and the sky began to fall. oh, so that’s why you couldn’t see the stars.

at this moment, there’s nothing left to amuse yourself with but the trembling of the leaves and the raindrops forming temporary rings when they fall in the water fountain.

your senses crave for more. you reach over and crack open the window, just enough to allow the sound of the rain and the scent of it permeating the earth to enter your room.

“this is kind of peaceful.” you whisper, amazed by the new lightness carried by your heart.

you close your eyes and you breathe in the petrichor deeply. you want nature in your lungs as a reminder that you’re alive. you welcome the cold wind kissing your face. you can feel your hair touching your neck. you always do, but for once, you’re choosing to acknowledge it. your thumb slowly brushes across the palm of your hand, perceiving the texture of your skin, the softness, and the lines. and your feet, they’re in the clouds, the fluffy slippers jungkook’s mother bought outside because she knows they’re your favorite to wear.

you’ve loved and despised this body for a million different reasons. your mind and heart have accepted defeat countless times, but your body wakes up to every brand new day without fail. your body implores you to live. did it finally give up on you today?

“baby!”

you look behind to search for the source of the sound.

you get your answer from the kiss planted on your lips.

you only saw his face for a split second, but even if you had your eyes closed, you’d know it has to be jungkook kissing you.

you can smell him. you’ve memorized the way the shape of his lips fits with yours.

oh, the sounds of his kisses too. you like to call them the butterfly call because they make butterflies appear in your stomach.

you could trace the scar on his cheek with your finger if you want to.

god, what a privilege it is to experience life in this vessel.

a knock on the door forces you to part too early. the same nurse from earlier enters and you internally scream all the curse words in your dictionary. jungkook acknowledges her with a bow and a quick ‘hello’ before squatting down infront of you.

“i committed another crime for you today.”

“huh?”

your wide, confused eyes take a glimpse at the nurse who is doing something with the controls of your iv line.

hahaha… she knows he’s not serious, right?

“what did you do?”

his smile is so big that his eyes have turned into little crescent moons. you’d make a guess but there is an infinite amount of things jungkook could possibly be this excited about.

…apparently, one of them would be strawberry cake.

you gape at the transparent box he was hiding behind his back all along.

“did you steal somebody’s birthday cake?!”

“it’s a producer’s birthday and he received lots of cakes, so he told me i can take one home.”

“how is it stealing if he allowed you to take it?”

he tosses his backpack on the couch as he sets down the box on the table. he rummages through the bag his mother left behind, successfully bringing out a spoon. meanwhile, you get your blood pressure taken again.

as he opens the box, he sends a smirk your way.

“no. i hid the strawberry cake because there’s so many who wanted to eat it.”

“are you crazy?!”

the nurse clicks her tongue. “don’t talk and stay still, please.”

“oh,” your hand flies to your mouth on instinct. “i’m sorry.”

“i’m sorry.” jungkook also apologizes.

you and your boyfriend secretly share a look, exchanging a smile that is stifled laughter inside. your lips remain zipped as the nurse restarts the process of taking your blood pressure. on the other hand, jungkook eats a spoonful of cake, teasingly wiggling his eyebrows at you. you roll your eyes and he tries harder to laugh without a sound.

seconds later, he grumbles about the room being too warm. he wipes the beads of sweat on his forehead using the back of his hand, and he does the worst thing he could possibly do at this moment. he reaches for his back, pulling his sweater over his head. naturally, his inner shirt rides up and allows wandering eyes a peak at his glorious toned abdomen.

passed out in the shower. busted your eyebrow open. front-row seat for a woman flirting and ogling at your boyfriend.

how fucking great.

“hello? i think it’s done.” you snap.

“a-ah, yes.”

you hear her swallow as she removes the cuff from your arm. she may be wearing a mask but she’s hot and red all the way to her ears. you’ve only read about it in books. you didn’t even believe this could happen in real life until now.

“i will check your temperature too.”

“go on.”

you repeat the same process from hours earlier, drumming your fingers on your thigh as you wait for the beep.

“yah, why is the window open? you’ll catch a cold.”

jungkook, yet again, steals the attention of every person in the room when he rises to his feet. his shadow casts over you as he closes the window.

“i wanted to smell the rain.”

“is the room getting too stuffy for you?”

you shrug. “i just wanted to smell the rain.”

you feel the nurse’s stare. you offer her a smile and her nameplate briefly gets caught by your vision. kang ji-woo.

“ji-woo; that’s a pretty name.” you pay her a sincere compliment. “it’s healing, don’t you think?”

“yes? uh-uhm, y-yes…” she replies, unsure and confused by the sudden small talk. “actually, it’s been linked to a reduction in stress and anxiety levels.”

“thank you! babe, did you hear that?”

“uhuh, think about my stress and anxiety levels.” he leans against the window with his arms crossed, raising an eyebrow at you.

so now he’s flexing his arm muscles. cool, cool, cool. you know he’s not doing it on purpose and his entire existence is just naturally hot and it’s infuriating.

“i’ve been worried sick about you all day.”

his statement makes you frown for a new reason. at the same moment, the thermometer beeps.

“could you please tell him that i’m fine?”

“37.3, uhhh- that’s slightly above normal. how do you feel? does your head hurt? are you cold?”

“i feel fine though?”

“okay. please take a lot of rest and stay warm…” her gaze lingers at jungkook who is blocking the window. “keep the window closed. hopefully it won’t be higher when i check again later.”

seriously?! you could cry. you want to go home where it’s comfortable. where it’s only you and jungkook and bam.

but you bet somebody would be happy if you had to stay longer.

“i’ll look after ____.” your boyfriend sighs, pulling out a jacket from his backpack.

“you shouldn’t have kissed me. what if you get sick?”

your blatantness causes the nurse to pause in updating your chart. she awkwardly clears her throat. “yeah… that… that isn’t currently advisable.”

“i’m sorry. i’ll control myself.”

you earn a glare from jungkook, then he fakes a smile which you gladly return.

“before you go, may i request for a new blanket? sorry, i spilled something earlier.”

“sure thing! i’ll come back with that right away.”

—

“she seemed happy to leave.” jungkook remarks. “i can’t tell if you were actually being nice or being passive aggressive.”

you smile innocently, taking a bite off the strawberry you stole from the top of the cake. “i’m a fucking angel.”

damn it, why is he suddenly turned on?

were you serious about the no kiss rule?

“would you rather i be the type to pull their hair?”

he shakes his head with a laugh. “but you did slap someone once.”

“you want to see me that furious again?”

“never in my wildest dreams.”

he kisses the top of your head, producing an exaggerated ‘mmmwah!’ sound that makes you giggle happily.

“here, have some more cake.”

he offers you a spoonful of cake.

no, it’s bigger.

as a matter of fact, the piece could probably pass off as a cupcake.

you gawk at it as if you’re figuring out the logistics of putting it in your mouth. his heart does a flip when you tilt your head and do your best to take in the whole thing. however, in the middle of it, you decide that you can’t, and you end up biting it off a little more than halfway.

oh my god, he loves you. he loves you. you’re so fucking cute.

your cheeks are full as you struggle to chew. you cover your mouth with your hand but they don’t touch. you’re so elegant in your ways and sometimes he wonders how you’re still attracted to him after he acts stupid.

also, plain white nails? that’s new. you always want colors.

“your nails look pretty.”

he is so focused on you that he fails to take notice of another presence occupying the room.

“your mom did them for me.”

“i figured. she wants to do mother-daughter things with you.”

the short break of silence speaks volumes. you look at him, blinking with eyes hinting at a type of joy you’re lost on how to express.

“did you choose white?”

“no. we were watching a drama and it was the couple’s wedding.”

oh, that makes total sense.

“let me guess,” he trails off with a half-embarrassed, half-entertained smile. “she asked when we will get married?”

“why would she ask me that? how would i know?” you scoff.

his heart starts at a thousand miles per hour. fuck, are you hinting at him? are you messing with his feelings again? with you, he always needs to remind himself to be rational.

“i need more time to prove to you that i’m husband material.”

“what? stop it. i don’t care. i don’t need a ring.”

your unpredictableness pushes him to the edge of his seat.

“don’t pressure yourself. you already treat me way better than most husbands do their wives.”

the pride painted on your face is unmistakable. he feels his heart swelling in his chest. has he been doing a better job than he originally thought? after what happened today, he was terrified that he hasn’t been paying enough attention to you.

“i’m so happy with what we have.”

you offer him a delicate smile before eating the rest of the cake that was left on the spoon. he swears there’s a glowing halo above your head.

could your temperature have magically dropped in the past five minutes? would you kill him if he kissed you right now?

“is there anything else i could assist you with?”

and then he is rudely snapped out of his hopeless adoration and daydreaming.

“that’s all! thank you for your hard work!” you chirp.

he turns to the nurse with a lovesick grin.

“please come to our wedding.”

the unforeseen wedding invitation earns him a slap on the chest. he clutches the affected area, wincing in pain.

he hears you mutter. “don’t invite strangers to our wedding.”

the irritated glare he predicted to face isn’t there. rather, you’re wearing the flustered smile he only sees when he knows that he did something to make you fall for him all over again.

before ji-woo left, she tried to subtly reject the invitation by jokingly saying that she’d die to go, but most probably, she’d have to work that day. you know… being an overworked hospital employee and all. you caught her glancing at you with bitterness failed to be guised as indifference. you get it. you’d hate it if another person was in your place. frankly speaking, you could be miles pettier.

your boyfriend wipes the corner of your lips, thoughtless as he licks off the cake frosting from his thumb.

damn it, you wish she was also here for that.

“you haven’t stopped smiling.”

“you love me and you never let me forget that.”

you give an answer despite the lack of a question mark.

you just made his world stop spinning on its axis and you’re not even aware.

jungkook knows the heavenly feeling of knowing that he is loved, but he has never deeply considered the joy and relief when the person he loves believes that he loves them.

“i’m so lucky. i love you.”

you push yourself up to plant a kiss on his forehead. it’s a rarity he treasures and keeps.

“i love you too.”

he cries infront of you.

almost.

he excuses himself to the bathroom and cries in there a little.

you’re so easy to love— that’s why it makes him want to do difficult things for you. like commit more crimes?

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook one shot #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook au #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook smut

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batshit-auspol · 1 year ago

Text

With the sudden collapse of the Soviet Union in the early 1990s, many of the former empire's resources were sold off to the highest bidder, and their $14 billion space shuttle program was no exception.

Seeking to recoup some of that eyewatering spend, in 1998, the "Buran" (Russia's answer to the American Space Shuttle) was offered up for sale on eBay for $10 million.

No serious offers were received - with most people assuming the listing to be a joke, until the New York Post confirmed the sale, with Russian authorities stating they "actually have two" if anyone is interested.

(Pictured: A later auction of a smaller scale Buran in 2005)

Sensing an opportunity, a group of Aussie entrepreneurs including Australia's first astronaut and the lawyer for Prime Minister Paul Keating offer to lease the shuttle from Russia, to put it on display in Australia during the Sydney Olympics.

After gaining permission from the Kremlin for the lease, in 1999 the Russian military briefly stops bombing Chechnya in order to dismantle the Buran, and it is placed on a barge to be shipped to Sydney on the (soon to be infamous for other reasons) Tampa shipping vessel at a cost of $5 million.

Once in Sydney, after a disastrous few months on display where crowds failed to flock to the shuttle exhibition featuring such compelling educational offerings as "activities is to assist in the development of issues of nutrition and hygiene at home" (an actual quote from their website) - the leasing company declared bankruptcy and washed their hands of the space shuttle completely.

The Buran Gift shop where you could buy soviet space ship themed football jerseys, in case you needed one of those

One of four people listed on the lease, described as a business partner of the Prime Minister, also claims he never knew he was a director of the company, which went on to cause a lot more problems.

This whole debacle presented a slight issue for the cash strapped Russian authorities, who had now only been paid $100,000 for the 9 year lease of the shuttle instead of the $600,000 they were owed. Eventually the decision was made to abandon the once $1 billion Soviet pride and joy in a Sydney carpark, where it resided for a year under a small tarpaulin.

Failed attempts to be rid of the shuttle included a 12 day auction hosted by an LA radio station, where listeners were offered the chance to buy the shuttle for $6 million, however all bids turned out to be pranks and the shuttle remained.

Multiple attempts were also made to sell the shuttle to Tom Cruise, with the exacerbated movie star's representatives repeatedly telling the insistent traders that he was not interested in owning a Russian spaceship.

Eventually a Singaporean group dismantled the shuttle and shipped it overseas, however Russian authorities soon reported they once again had been failed to be paid for the lease. Singaporean representatives responded that they definitely had paid for the shuttle, and that they simply couldn't remember when or how much was paid.

Representing the Russian government, Lawyer Suhaila Turani told the Wall Street Journal “I feel sorry for the Russians. They’re good in space, but they’re very naive in business.”

For a time the shuttle was abandoned in the storage yard of event company Pico, with the company owner telling the Wall Street Journal "I just want this thing out of my life" after three years of being stuck with it.

A few years later the shuttle was found by German journalists dismantled in a junkyard, and it was then bought and shipped to Germany to be put on display a museum, so all's well that ends well (except they dropped it from a crane while trying to set it up, but it polished up okay).

#auspol #australia #russia #history #fun facts

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suskz · 9 months ago

Note

JOCK!CHAN X NERD!FEM READER SMUT??🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️

pairing: Jock!Chan x Nerd!Fem!Reader

t/w: smut ; breasts play ; clit play ; slight oral kink.

w/c: 1.5k

a/n: NO BC I actually love this idea sm 🙇🏻‍♀️ Hope you like it anon ♡

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

"Come over after practice?"

You adjust your glasses on your nose after sending the text and get up to change into your pajamas.

You don't expect an immediate response, but you're too bored because you have nothing to do and you can't wait for him to text back.

You receive a reply only two hours later.

"Of course, baby, I'll take a quick shower and I'll be with you."

Only half an hour passes before he's standing in front of the door of your dorm room, with dark curly hair still wet and dressed in his usual black pants and t-shirt.

Before you know it, his soft lips are on yours and without breaking apart, you usher him into the room and he closes the door.

"Your hair is still wet." you point out as if he didn't already know.

"I wanted to be with you as soon as possible." You blush slightly at his words.

"How was practice?" you ask him.

"Changbin missed all his shots today." he chuckles.

"He's too short for basketball, I've always said so." you laugh with him.

"What were you doing in the meantime?"

"I was reading a book Seungmin lent me."

That's why shortly after you're sitting on your bed with your boyfriend's head in your lap while you read aloud word after word.

His eyes are closed as he listens to your soothing voice, but at some point you stop and he opens his eyes.

"What's wrong?" he asks you, and when you don't answer, he raises an eyebrow and gently lowers the book with one hand to see your slightly flushed face.

The story is getting a bit... hot, "Uh... I'm not sure if I should continue..." you admit, and he immediately understands what it's about. A smirk forms on his lips as he gets up.

"No, keep reading, I want to know how it continues." He has you sit in the middle of the bed and positions himself behind you, wrapping his arms around your body and keeping his eyes on the book, without reading, "Then?"

"Uh... he- he started kissing her neck," his soft lips immediately press against the skin of your nape, leaving slow, wet kisses, "As his hands roamed all over her body." And so does he, releasing the embrace and moving his hands over your body still covered by the light pajama shirt, running his fingers over your belly and higher, grazing the outline of your breasts.

"You're not wearing a bra?" He whispers against your neck, his breath lightly tickling you.

"I'm more comfy without."

He groans almost imperceptibly, feeling your hardening nipples through the fabric of the shirt.

"Keep reading." he orders, and you do as he says.

You read quickly in your mind, trying to get to the parts where it only describes his actions. "His- his fingers play with her nipples, squeezing them between his fingers and—" you pause as a yelp escapes your lips when you feel his fingers brush against your nipples and then squeeze them in between.

Before you realise it, his strong arms lift you from where you're sitting on the bed. One arm goes under your legs, while the other holds the upper part of your body, picking you up bridal style, and gently lays you with your head on the pillow.

Sometimes you still marvel at how truly strong he is.

He then positions himself between your legs. He lifts your shirt to uncover your breasts and plays with your nipples, pinching and licking them.

"Then?" His voice is low and sensual, causing a throbbing sensation in your lower parts, where his covered cock brushes against you through his pants.

"His- his hand travels down her body—" the movement of his hand sends shivers through your body. He swiftly removes your pajama shorts, and kisses various spots on your leg as he moves up to place his head at your level, locking eyes with you.

One of his hands takes the book from your hands while the other slips under your panties, feeling your wetness with his middle and ring fingers. A gasp escapes your lips before you can control it.

"You're so wet already.” he breathes on your lips, feeling all the slick that has come out of your hole. He gathers some of your juices and uses it to glide his fingers in slow circular motions on your clit, making you sigh. "This pretty pussy's begging for attention, mhh?”

He moans with you as his fingers slide into your hole. He moves them back and forth slowly, curling them upwards to brush against that sensitive spot inside you.

His breath is heavy as yours and his pants feel tight.

His thumb rests on your clit and moves as best he can to stimulate you more.

Your faces are so close. He looks into your eyes and can't resist the urge to kiss you. It's slow and sensual, your tongues meeting and your breaths mingling.

When you break apart, a trail of saliva connects your lips. Your boyfriend removes his fingers from inside you, making you whine at the sudden feeling of emptiness.

Your panties are soon on the floor next to your pants, and your shirt follows shortly after.

"You're so gorgeous." he compliments as he admires your exposed body beneath him.

It's not the first time he's looked at your naked body, but his gaze feels heavy on you.

He notices your embarrassment and leans in on you. "I can't wait to be inside you." he whispers in your ear.

"Then don't." you urge him.

And a few seconds later, his cock is inside your tight heat, making both of you moan in unison.

Soon he begins to move. You need more time to get used to the intrusion, but the desperation of both has taken over.

Despite it not being the first time, the stretch still hurts initially. But it only takes a few slow initial thrusts for you to get used to it.

His pace quickens and becomes more steady, and one of his hands has to cover your mouth to stifle your sounds.

Your moans come out muffled against his palm, and he closes his eyes, biting back a moan, "As much as I love hearing you, we don't want to get caught, now do we?" he whispers. You nod, and he removes his hand from your mouth.

You grit your teeth and throw your head back into the pillows —as much as you can without hurting yourself because of the ponytail— trying to be as quiet as possible, but it's difficult.

Your glasses are askew on your face, and just one wrong move would be enough to cause problems for them. That's why Chan carefully takes them off and places them on the nightstand next to the bed.

It's when his cock hits a certain sensitive spot inside you hard that a cry escapes your lips, and you're too taken by surprise to hold it back.

Two fingers are shoved into your mouth to try to stifle the sounds trying to come out, "You did that on purpose so I would put my fingers in your mouth, huh? You like being fucked like this, don't you?" he whispers in your ear, licking and sucking on the lobe.

Your tongue moves upward, wanting to speak, pressing against his fingers. At your movement, he throws his head back, letting out a pitiful moan; his hips falter for a second, and his cock twitches inside you.

You close your lips around his fingers and nod instead, unable to speak.

"You feel so damn good." His head rests in the crook of your neck. "Fuck." He breathes.

The sound of skins slapping together grows louder in the room. A drop of sweat falls from his forehead, and his hands grip the sheets tightly at the sides of your head.

"Baby, I'm close." He whines, warning you.

Your legs tremble, your limbs feel like jelly.

"Me too." You reply, "Chris, please."

He brings two of his fingers to your clit, moving them quickly, but the movements are not steady, distracted by his impending climax.

"Y/n, I'm going to cum—" he urgently moans, "You have to come now." It's an order, despite the slight desperation in his voice, like you could control your orgasm.

You place your fingers over his that are still on your clit and move them together.

Your breaths are heavy and loud. Anyone passing by your room would understand what you're doing, but in the heat of the moment you don't give it much weight. The only thing on your minds is reaching your highs.

And you do; you come first and he follows right after. His well-defined muscles, built from the gym he attends with his friends, twitch gorgeously as he cums into the condom.

It takes a few minutes for both of you to catch your breath. He pulls out of you and tosses the condom into the trash bin at the end of your bed.

He joins you again in bed and looks at you, perhaps a little embarrassed, "It won’t go down..." he admits, referring to his still somehow hard dick.

You prop your body up on your elbows. Your eyes shift to look at his half-erection and then back to his eyes, with a smirk.

"Round two?"

#bang chan #stray kids #bang chan x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #bang chan smut #bang chan fanfic #bang chan x reader smut #stray kids x reader smut #stray kids fanfic #anon ask ♡

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loveanddeepthroat · 5 months ago

Text

Trouble

Pairing - Sylus x f!MC

Summary - As it turned out, lavish events in the N109 Zone were not quite your thing, and this one did nothing but prove it. You weren’t looking for trouble, but it often had a way of finding you.

Word Count - 6.4k

Warning - MDNI. 18+. Oral sex f!receiving. Fingering. Light bondage. Mention of murder.

You were in trouble.

Not that it was immediately bothering you. You were having a good time—it wasn’t your fault that the rest of your companions were quite clearly not.

And besides, it wasn’t as if you were breaking any rules. Sylus had simply advised that you remain where he and the twins could see you upon your arrival at the lavish event, and that’s exactly what you were doing.

Whilst you watched a delectable cocktail being made for you at the bar as per a stranger's request, the three sets of eyes in various places around the room burned holes in your head as they watched you and the nameless man like a hawk. You only threw a few glances at each of them, catching Luke waving the tips of his fingers against his neck in a warning to get away from the guy.

You did no such thing, however. Listening to people kissing Sylus’s ass to stay out of his warpath had quickly bored you half to death, and some stimulation was very necessary for your withering attention span. You didn’t think much of the man who had approached you at the bar. He was dressed up like every other guy in the room, but he held a familiar air of dominance around him. Just as a certain silver haired man fuming a dozen metres away did.

The man ordered you what he deemed as being the best cocktail you would ever drink, along with an identical one for himself. One sip had led to another, your glass completely drained in a matter of a few seconds. He had another one raring to go before your glass landed back on the mahogany bar.

“Didn’t I tell you? The perfect cocktail.” The slight grin he shot you revealed two golden teeth that replaced his natural canines. You imagined the man would be quite intimidating to look at for most, but you took down Wanderers for a living. He’d need to do a lot more than flash his expensive gold fangs at you to make you feel threatened.

Not that you were getting that impression from him in the first place. He actually seemed rather pleasant.

“It’s delicious,” you agreed, already starting on the second.

He perched himself on the stool beside you, taking a sip of his own as he studied you for a moment. “You came with Sylus, huh?”

You nod, not seeing any harm in answering truthfully. “Is it obvious?”

The man chuckled. “His eyes are like lasers through my skull,” he crooned. He turned his head to wiggle his fingers in greeting to your companion. You didn’t dare turn to look in the same direction. “So, what are you doing on your little lonesome, darling?”

A shiver ran up your spine at the pet name. It was almost as if Sylus had caused it as a warning to you. You could feel his patience thinning by the second.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you responded, starting to feel a bit like a worm in the sights of a crow.

Although you weren’t entirely sure which of the two men were making you feel so much pressure all of a sudden.

A blaringly obvious hand shot in the air a little distance behind the silver-eyed man beside you, catching your attention. Kieran had attracted more than just your attention as he threw his thumb back over his shoulder, eagerly coaxing you away from the man.

It was time to wrap things up.

You finally took the hint and slipped off of the barstool and onto your stilettos, your movement mirrored by the man before you. A large hand landed upon your shoulder, causing you to freeze up. At first, you thought it was his hand clamped there, but the sheer size and strength as it gave you a small squeeze was immediately recognisable.

Sylus.

Putting your face in one of the large fireplaces in the room sounded more appealing than looking up at him at that moment, so you kept your gaze on the sly smirk now spreading across the shorter male’s face.

“Sylus. It’s about time our paths crossed tonight,” he crooned. Gone was the admittedly quite charming face you had been accompanied by, replaced with one that could be compared to that of a viper.

This man was not someone you should have engaged with.

Sylus’s firm grip remained on your tensed shoulder, anchoring you to him. His voice was cool and indifferent, like he was already bored by the idea of conversing with the individual.

“If you fancied my attention, Frank, all you had to do was say,” he drawled.

Frank cocked his head to the side, his silver eyes dropping to your chest. You suddenly felt a little overexposed in the plunged neckline of your fitted black dress.

“I was just on my way to you when I stumbled upon a lonely little stray,” Frank purred, his cold, lingering gaze finally flickering back up to your face.

Hiding the disgust in your expression was difficult, but you had a feeling it would be wise to at least try. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed the twins standing together, watching the situation unfold. They were always ready to get involved if required.

Sylus chuckled, not one iota of humour in it. “I didn’t take you for the type of man to take pity on a stray kitten,” he said flatly. “Especially one with its collar on.”

He slipped a long finger into the chain of your ruby encrusted choker, giving it the smallest of tugs. You didn’t hate it, and honestly, you felt it more in the pit of your stomach than you did in your neck. Now didn’t seem like the time to think on that, mind.

The backs of his fingers smoothed over your racing pulse as he pulled the digit back out of the small space in your tight neckpiece. You shivered quite noticeably, the sensation awakening the pulse between your thighs.

“As you can see, this one is already taken care of.”

You didn’t miss the flare of hostility in Frank’s silver eyes as he followed every movement of Sylus’s hand—even as it moved to hang from his trouser pocket with his thumb tucked inside.

“Maybe you should keep her on a shorter leash. Anyone could have gotten their hands on her,” Frank said tightly. It sounded awfully identical to a threat. “This is hardly the room full of people you would want to lose such a precious little thing in.”

Sylus didn’t respond. Instead, he grabbed your arms and moved you to the side, away from Frank’s cold glare. Before you could even react, two strong arms either side of you hooked your arms with their elbows.

Luke and Kieran practically dragged you away, your feet struggling to keep up. As soon as you were released from their bone crushing clamps for inner elbows, you turned back to the interaction you were just kidnapped from.

Only to find the space completely empty.

“Okay, either you’re blind or really, really stupid,” Luke scolded.

You frowned back at him, crossing your arms over your chest. “Excuse me?”

“No, we won’t excuse you,” he snapped. “We’ve spent the last ten minutes thinking up different ways to dispose of your body after Frank was done with you.”

“Honestly, woman. Do we have to take you over the basic commands, again? I looked like a tool flapping my arms at you!” Kieran chimed in, looking like he was telling off a toddler.

Unsure whether it was the alcohol or their incessant rambling, you were starting to feel quite overwhelmed. You weren’t sure what they had seen differently while you were sitting with Frank, but you knew that the man had to have had a sinister intention for occupying you.

“Wait, wait,” you cut them off as Luke started to scold you again. “Shouldn’t we go find them?”

They both stared at you for a moment before bursting into obnoxious laughter. You weren’t sure what the joke was, but you were confident you wouldn’t find it funny even if you did.

If Sylus had gone off alone with the unfriendly man, then surely he would need the three of you there, too.

“You’re lucky you still have a tongue in your mouth to be able to make dumbass suggestions like that,” Luke sneered, still shaking from his chuckles.

You clenched your fists at your sides, irritated by their insults. How were you supposed to know that Golden Teeth was an enemy? You weren’t exactly well versed in the good and the bad when it came to attending events in the N109 Zone.

If they were that concerned, they could have remained beside you.

Each minute that passed without a visual on Sylus felt like an eternity, but in reality, only three minuscule minutes went by before he emerged from a door beside the bar.

His facial expression gave away absolutely nothing, but the red split in his lip did. You swallowed as you watched his tongue peak out to run over the small laceration, followed by the pad of his thumb. It disappeared in an instant at his touch.

You began to walk towards him, curious about what the hell had just happened, and if Frank was still breathing. Before you could open your mouth, however, he bent at the waist the second he got close to you, his shoulder connecting with your stomach as he hauled you off of your feet.

“What the—what the fuck are you doing?!”

He did not dignify you with a response as he stormed towards the exit, his solid arm squeezing your knees into his ribs as you started to assault his back.

“Put. Me. Down,” you grit between harsh slaps to his back. You might as well have been flicking his ear for all the difference it was making.

He carried you straight out of the building and towards the matte black saloon car Kieran had driven you all in earlier that evening. You were utterly furious and embarrassed, doing everything in your power to wriggle out of his hold.

“I can walk!”

Sylus snorted. Snorted, like it was funny. No humour lay in his tone as he spoke, though. “Well that’s a little hard to believe.”

You whacked his muscled back again. “Meaning?!”

He yanked open the back door of the car, practically dropping you into it on your back. You felt it again, at the worst possible time.

That flutter of lust in your core.

It was something about the way he stood over you as you panted from the physical exertion of trying to fight his spine. He must’ve been able to see up the short skirt of your dress, and you hoped to god he didn’t spot any indication of your arousal on the cherry red thong you were wearing.

“Meaning, you had plenty of opportunity to use these apparent walking skills when your safety was threatened,” he growled, moving your legs so he could slam the car door, not interested in anything you had to say back.

You huffed as you pushed down on the unfolded mass of clothes in your backpack, trying to fit them all in.

It had been hours since you all got back from the absolute disaster of a night, and you had been holed up in the room you were occupying since then. Part of you expected Sylus to come and explain what the hell his problem had been, but he didn’t.

The longer you sat and dwelled on it, the more you wanted to go home. You only came to stay because he’d asked you to attend the event with him. He hadn’t mentioned that you were expected to stay by his side like an obedient dog. Nor had he bothered to mention the types of people you were to avoid.

Not only were you pissed at him, but you were pissed at the fact that he’d made you feel a certain way. Who in their right mind gets aroused by a man embarrassing you by hauling you out of a room full of people—likely with your bare ass on show.

Scientists would have a field day with your brain.

And although you hated to admit it, it wasn’t the first time you had felt that familiar feeling of lust at his touch. The last time you had stayed, you had to relieve yourself in the shower after training with him in the ring. Every inch of him was sculpted with perfect precision, almost as if an architect had dedicated their life to working on his blueprint.

If you were being honest, you weren’t bothered about the event he wanted you to attend when he’d asked you to join him. You just wanted to see him.

But at the end of the day, you had no idea where you belonged in his world. In Linkon, a friendly face buying you a drink wasn’t something to be feared. It was exhausting having to recluse whenever you accompanied him anywhere.

The clasps of your bag struggled as you tried and failed to clip them together. You had no idea how you were getting back to your apartment, but you were confident in your ability to just suck it up and figure it out. Even if you had to trek there in your most expensive pair of (uncomfortable) stilettos.

You slipped your feet out of them, throwing your barely closed bag over your shoulders before picking the silky, red shoes up. They’re far too noisy against Sylus’s marble floor for you to be able to slip out without being accosted by him or the twins.

Without so much as a squeak, you gently turned the doorknob, pulling the door slowly to peer down the long hallway. Nobody could be seen or heard, so you slipped out and carefully closed the door behind you to not draw suspicion.

You hurried yourself down the hallway to get to the front door, stopping dead in your tracks as you turned the corner.

Mephisto was perched outside of Sylus’s bedroom door, his beady red eyes on you in an instant. Like hell was the glorified magpie going to let you pass him without kicking up a fuss.

“If you keep your scrap-metal beak shut, I’ll be out of your feathers. Got it?” Your voice was a whisper, but you knew he could hear you.

He did not make a sound as you slowly passed him, keeping your eyes on his as he followed your every move across the luxury floors. By the time you had passed him, you were fully convinced that he was willing to let you go. The minute you took your eyes off him, though, he started to screech.

“CAW! CAW!”

“Oh for fuck sake! You couldn’t just work with me for once in your—”

“CAW!”

“I wasn’t finished you squawking little—”

You were cut off by Sylus’s door opening, his unamused expression still ever present on his face. He was freshly showered, silver hair dripping onto the bare expanse of chest showing between the lapels of his bathrobe. You had to swallow a noise that rudely made its way up from your suddenly dry throat.

Eyes as red as the rubies around your neck flickered between Mephisto, you, and the bag over your shoulder. He clicked his fingers, sending his winged companion away.

“I was under the impression that you were above cussing out mechanical crows,” he drawled, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe.

It wasn’t clear whether or not he was joking, considering the less-than humorous look on his face. Either way, you weren’t in the mood for it.

“I’m going home.”

“I can see that,” he responded immediately, nodding towards your barely closed bag. “And how, exactly, are you planning to get there?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, feeling a bit like a teenager who’s just been caught sneaking out to a party. “I’ll figure that out myself.”

Holding his cold stare wasn’t usually a challenge for you, but you found yourself desperate to look away. You had compared Frank’s domineering aura to Sylus’s earlier, but it didn’t actually come close to the man before you.

You had seen men and women strapped with weapons that could swiftly eliminate even the most dangerous of Wanderers cower at the sight of Sylus. He was the true definition of a force to be reckoned with.

He raised a lazy eyebrow at you, his hand slipping into the pocket of his robe. “You’re not leaving without a ride home. You’re over the limit, and if I wanted you to be skinned alive walking through the N109 Zone, I’d open the front door for you.”

“You give me a lift then,” you rebuked, your patience already thinning.

Sylus offered half a shrug. “I could, but I don’t make a habit of going out half naked.” You hoped to the lord that he didn’t see your shiver at the fact that he was only concealed by a thin robe. “You’re welcome to ask Luke and Kieran.”

“And where are they?”

The corner of his lip curled so subtly that you almost didn’t see it. “Out.”

You growled at his relaxed attitude. Why the hell would he even suggest it if they weren’t around?

“They’re cleaning up a mess of mine,” he answered as if you had asked.

A chill ran through you. “Would that mess happen to be Frank’s body?”

Sylus turned away from you, strolling into his room. You weren’t entirely sure why, but you followed him in, suddenly wanting answers.

“Well?”

Dark tendrils coiled around the bag on your back, gently tugging it down your arms and carrying it out of the room, closing the door on the way out. You had a feeling your belongings were heading back to where you just came from.

Sylus fiddled with the sleek black turntable in the corner of the room, carefully setting a vinyl record into place. It was a stark contrast to the way he’d hauled you into the car.

“You’re aware of the saying, right? Curiosity killed…” he trailed off, putting the pin in its place upon the record.

You frowned at his back. “The cat?”

He blew out a short laugh, not an ounce of humour in it. “The crook.”

He turned back towards you, slowly making his way to where you were a little rigid by the door. There was that feeling again. That you were a worm in the sights of a crow.

“Tell me,” he crooned, stopping right where your forehead would connect with his heart if you took half a step forward. “What was it about Frank that had you feeling adventurous, hm?”

You forced yourself to look up at him, feeling your cheeks heat at how close you were. “What do you mean?”

“Kitten, I can read you like the nervous wrecks who attempt to double cross me. Don’t play dumb, it does not suit you.”

His eyes were fierce and serious, but you hadn’t a clue what he was getting at. Your silence only lasted a few seconds before he leaned towards your shoulder.

“What was it that attracted you to him?” He whispered so quietly that you just about heard him over the thrum of your rapid heartbeat.

Attracted to him? In the approximately two minutes you had spent with Frank at the bar, you hadn’t spoken more than ten words to him.

You stepped away, your back connecting with the door immediately. Even with the slight gap, his look over your much smaller form was rather harrowing. And yet you felt that unhelpful flutter in your core again, so strong that your knees wobbled in place. What was this man doing to you?

“Did you hit your head this morning?” You bit back, clenching the muscles of your thighs tightly to relieve some of the pressure there. “You think that I had an eye for him because he bought me a drink?”

He closed the gap again, his large palm resting against the door right beside your head. “Why else would you not walk away when you were quite blatantly warned to do so.”

“Maybe because I was tired of—” you cut yourself off before you could finish.

You had told yourself that the reason you hadn’t wanted to remain at his side was because you were tired of watching people practically tremble in his presence.

Now, though, you weren’t sure that was the sole reason.

Every woman in that damn room had an eye on him, and it had made you feel…strange. You weren’t typically a jealous person by nature, but tonight had proved you capable of such emotions. In fact, you were practically tearing the heads off of beautiful women in your mind, wanting to punish them all for having the audacity to look at him like he was a piece of meat.

Maybe you and him weren’t so different after all.

He cleared his throat pointedly. “Tired of…?”

You huffed rather childishly, turning your head away from his hard stare. “Of the attention that certain people were giving you,” you begrudgingly admit.

There was no use lying to him, since falsely having him believe that you were actually interested in Frank seemed like a sure way to get on his bad side—if you weren’t already on it.

With his hand that wasn’t resting beside your head, he took a hold of your jaw, carefully turning your face back to his. “And would these people happen to be women?”

You merely shrugged, having no desire to discuss the matter any further.

Sylus studied you for a moment, contemplating. He looked as if he couldn’t decide between scolding you or shaking some sense into you. You were almost shocked that he didn’t go straight to mocking you, but you had an inclination that he had felt the same thing whilst you sat at the bar with one of his enemies.

He dropped his head beside yours again, murmuring in your ear. “If you wanted my attention, sweetie, I would have given it to you.”

You almost moaned, his breath tickling the sensitive column of your throat. Lifting a hand, you grabbed onto his wrist to steady yourself, only for him to pull out of your grasp immediately.

A flash of fear shot through you at his sudden rejection, but it was almost immediately soothed as he pried your fingers open enough to slip his own between them, pinning your hand to the door.

“Do you have any idea the kind of danger you could have been in tonight?” It was a growling question that didn’t require an answer. You felt your breath pick up in pace, the swollen peaks of your nipples skimming the top of his abs every time your chest heaved. “Frank has been known to have a string of disappearing acquaintances. He wouldn’t hesitate to maim you out of spite to me.”

You shuddered at the thought of being so close to a killer. And yet the proximity between you and Sylus did not give you that same feeling of dread. You know that he has killed many before, and despite not having his death confirmed or denied just yet, you knew that Frank was now somewhere in the afterlife, hopefully being accosted by the people he had killed.

You knew, but you had to ask.

“Did you kill him because I was speaking to him?”

Sylus shook his head, pulling back just enough that he could look you in the eyes. “I killed him because it was long overdue. I’ve had men who have been sent out to keep an eye on that bastard, and many of them did not return,” he explained quietly, a hint of frustration in his tone. “If I had taken my eyes off of you for a second—”

He audibly swallowed, cutting himself off. You could easily guess what he was going to say, and clearly the mere thought of it was haunting him.

A wash of guilt fell over you. If you had just walked away when you were told, he wouldn’t have had to do anything.

“He wasn’t going to take one more person from me,” he finally gritted.

That very thought should have filled you with dread. It should have made you sick to your stomach.

But the mention of his eyes on you for every second you weren’t beside him caused a spreading warmth to grow in your chest. Despite the situation you hadn’t realised you were in, you had been safe that whole time under his watch.

“I would have thought you’d be glad to get me out of your hair,” you said, only half joking to diffuse the tension between you.

He didn’t seem amused by it at all, his grip on your hand tightening. “Like I said, kitten. If I wanted you dead, I’d be seeing you out of the front door instead of standing here, resisting urges I have no right to have.”

Your thighs pressed together again at his whispered confession. His eyes always warned of danger, but they were gleaming with desire.

You were not losing out on him tonight.

With the most tender of touches, you ran the tips of your fingers over his exposed chest with your free hand, feeling his steady breath falter. He swallowed thickly, suffocating your hand in his against the door.

“I apologise,” he whispered gruffly, his head dipping to where your collarbone was visible to him in the neckline of your dress.

You shuddered as his breath danced across your clammy skin, droplets from his wet hair falling against your chest. “For what?”

“Handling you the way I did.” His lips were mere inches away from you, and it took all your strength not to grab the back of his head and slam his face into your chest. “The thought of that bastard doing something—”

“Kiss me.”

Sylus didn’t give you a chance to cringe at your own slip up as every inch of him pressed you into the door, his mouth attacking your pulse with expert precision. You let loose a shaky moan, your nails scratching down his rock hard pectoral.

Every ounce of animosity you had been harbouring since the event dissipated at his touch. He was rough and unrelenting, his indistinguishable power overwhelming you in the most delicious way possible.

“Lower,” you breathed softly, wanting him everywhere.

You weren’t sure how he heard you, but he obeyed your hushed command. In one swift movement, his free arm clutched you around your waist, lifting you up. Both of your legs perched perfectly either side of him, suffocating his waist.

With his newfound access to your already exposed chest, he immediately got to work, sucking and biting at the thin layer of skin over your collarbones. The pain of sharp teeth sinking into flesh married faultlessly with undeniable pleasure, causing you to writhe against him.

A firm bulge pressed against your heat as he ground himself against your cunt. Even with the sensation being drastically muted by the material of your thong and his robe being between you, you appreciated the absolute weapon he was concealing beneath his nightly attire.

“Ah—” you gasped, the soft sound immediately erased by a sharp hiss as he sunk his teeth into your skin again.

His mouth slowly travelled down to the tops of your breasts, where he pressed uncharacteristically tender kisses to each one. You were a wriggling, desperate mess already, but he was still sane enough to take a moment to study your chest.

“I have always appreciated art,” he crooned.

He removed the arm that held you around your waist, purely holding you up with his lower body alone. Your breasts were granted a sweet release as he pulled the thin straps of your dress down, pulling the material out of his way like a man depraved.

It was the look in his eye. A million compliments that didn’t need to be put into words. You could see them. Hell, you could feel the utter captivation radiating from him.

Your free hand smoothed over the delicious muscle of his shoulders before curling around the back of his neck. With a swift yank of his head, his mouth locked onto one of your firm nipples. Back arching off of the door, you cried out as his tongue swirled and flicked the sensitive area, leaving you a little mindless.

He finally let go of your hand, hungry to feel more of you. One hand pushed up your thigh, the skirt of your dress riding up with the movement before he squeezed your hip. The other cupped your neglected breast, thumb brushing over your pert nipple as if it were the joystick on a gaming console. Up, down, left, right, and all over again.

It was almost too much, and yet you still wanted more. He ground himself against you again, your head slamming back against the door with a reverberating thud. You felt it this time. The thickness of his solid shaft, followed by the damp sensation of your arousal.

You needed him there. Now.

“Mm—” you mumbled pathetically, unable to get a word out.

Sylus chuckled against the breast he was feasting on. “What was that, sweetie?”

All you could do was wriggle yourself against his cock, hoping to convey a message to him without the need to trip over your words. You wanted to swallow up every inch of it with your warmth, leaving it glowing like a damn firefly with the glistening sheen of your essence.

“I know that pretty mouth of yours can talk,” he whispered against the column of your throat. “Tell me what you want.”

Your mouth was dry, like the space between your legs had stolen your saliva to lubricate you further.

“More.”

Sylus clicked his tongue. “There are nicer ways to ask.”

You knew he wasn’t being serious, but you would have begged on your knees at this point. He had to have felt your legs trembling against his waist, aching for him to fill you.

“Since you haven’t specified…” he began, pulling his head back completely.

For a second, you thought you had actually irritated him. There was a darkness in his stare, a hunger. You couldn’t figure it out, but it didn’t matter once the dark tendrils of his Evol snaked around your arms, dragging them up above your head. Your eyes widened.

Was he going to leave you tied up here?

“Do you trust me, sweetie?”

Any sane person being restrained against a door by the literal epitome of bad news himself would have frantically shook their head.

But you didn’t. You trusted him with every damn crevice of your soul.

“Y-yes,” you stammered.

He brought up a hand to stroke your side before hooking it under your thigh, along with the other one. One swift lift had you hurtling upwards, as if you weighed no more than a spaniel puppy.

Your legs were quickly on his shoulders, securing him a front row seat to your soaked thong. Getting any wetter had to be impossible, but your position was serving to give it a good try. Wrists tightly secured above your head, your legs wrapped around his neck, and his warm breath fanning over your damp thighs.

No throne in the most lavish palace on earth would be more tempting than this seat of yours.

His crimson eyes flickered up to your face, a flash of uncertainty in his gaze. “Is this where you want me?”

You nodded rapidly before his hand came up to hold your jaw, halting your wordless answer.

“Words please, kitten,” he requested.

“Yes,” you breathed. “Please, Sylus.”

He grinned, an unnerving and yet exciting sight. Wasting no time, he gripped the flimsy material of your cheap thong, tearing it at the seams to grant himself access to your bare cunt.

There was no teasing. No small pecks to your inner thighs. Not even a warning before his hot, balmy tongue lapped up a line of your juices through your folds, slowly dragging over the bundle of nerves nestled within. It took him no time at all to figure out where that heavenly little mound was, as if he knew your body like the back of his veiny hand.

Teeth. Tongue. Lips. All three of them fighting brutally for their moment on your clit, as if he couldn’t figure out which to use first. Your brain could hardly keep up with the flitting between this and that. All you knew was that you didn’t want it to stop.

Your legs tightened around his head in a bone-crushing squeeze. The suffocation only served to push him further, like he was fuelled by the possibility of having his jaw crushed like a damn walnut between your thighs.

“I could think of worse ways to go,” he growled against your hole, nose buried deeply into your folds to inhale your scent.

He pressed further into you, his tongue penetrating you with a greedy lick down your plush walls. Your hips jolted of their own accord at the sensation. He was your puppet master, making you grind and flinch on demand with his calculated actions.

The more his tongue slid in and out of you—the tip of his nose perfectly hitting your clit every time—the more of him you wanted inside of you.

Gone were your soft, airy moans. You were crying out to whoever would listen, announcing to the world beyond the walls that you were being fucking devoured by the most feared mouth in the N109 Zone.

A mouth that could bring grown men to their trembling knees with one mere bark of an order.

You were drunk on it.

He slowly withdrew his tongue, immediately swallowing. “Like candy,” he murmured.

He licked at his lips, eyes trained on the concoction of his saliva and your fluids with awe. His hand shifted from where it had still been gripping your thigh, the soft pads of his fingers tracing circles around your hole for lubrication.

“Can you handle them?” He didn’t look up as he asked, fixated on the patterns he was repeatedly drawing through your folds.

“Mhm,” you mumbled.

He clicked his tongue. “Words.”

“Yes.”

He seemed to make quite the habit of just diving in as soon as he had permission. In one swift push, he impaled you on his lengthy index finger, his knuckles pressing against your pelvic bone.

You cried out towards the ceiling. “Fuck!”

“You must’ve had some pretty disappointing experiences down here, sweetie,” he purred. “You’re so very tight.”

Every muscle in the lower half of your body was quivering with need, your hips unable to still themselves. He wasn’t wrong, nobody had ever truly left you gasping or crying out to the heavens.

You had a feeling he was about to change that.

Slowly, he dragged the digit back out, making sure to scrape down on your walls as he did. He began a steady rhythm, plunging his finger in and out of you lazily. His eyes held a repertoire of fascination, as if he’d been dreaming up this moment for quite some time.

He didn’t rush to add the second digit, but as soon as he did, you lost all sense of reality. The curling and pounding was precise and calculated, every brush of your neglected g-spot extracting a whimpering moan from you.

“Ngh…oh fuck,” you managed through a shuddering breath.

“Good girl,” he praised huskily. “I want to feel you come undone. Can you do that for me, darling?”

If he kept talking to you like that, it was going to happen a lot sooner than he would expect. The mental challenge of holding back was near impossible, and seemed to be displeasing him.

He picked up his pace. Firm, brutal bucks of his hand giving you every push towards that edge that you were trying to keep a distance from. You were yanking at the tendrils gripping your wrists, crying out pathetically at the sheer velocity of his fingers.

“I hope you’re not holding back on me,” he warned quietly.

He wanted you to finish. He was so very desperate to feel your release that he was practically shoving you towards it.

You couldn’t deny him.

The building pressure in your core gave out as you orgasmed, a litany of thuds marrying the sounds of your pleasured cries whilst you writhed against the door. Sylus, at the feeling of your walls contracting around his fingers, became a little breathless himself. He didn’t slow his pace, helping you ride out the waves of pleasure until your very last whimper.

By the time you had caught your breath, the restraints on your hands slowly loosened, and you expected to be put back down onto solid ground.

Instead, Sylus brought his mouth back to your folds, clearing up the aftermath of your first real orgasm. He was slow and gentle, savouring the taste like a vintage bottle of wine.

He was gentle when lowering you back to the floor, your legs trembling beneath you. You kept a hold of his arms, looking up at his hazy eyes. Anyone would think that he’d been the one on the receiving end of oral sex.

You wanted to give back. You wanted to see everything beneath his robe.

And apparently, your need was rather obvious.

“Not tonight, kitten,” he murmured, fixing your dress to cover your exposed body.

You didn’t know if you were more perplexed or hurt. Why not tonight? Did he not see you capable enough of being able to return the favour?

He brushed a strand of your unruly hair behind your ear in a contrasting manner to how he’d been handling you earlier. “I won’t know when to stop.”

You shuddered at the thought. “I’m okay with that.”

It wasn’t a lie. He could bend you over the railing of the balcony for the whole city to see, and you wouldn’t bat an eyelid.

But he wasn’t budging, the corner of his glistening lips curling upwards at your eagerness. “I don’t doubt that.”

He leaned towards your ear, his voice a low whisper.

“But it’s going to take a lot more than my saliva and your sweet fluids to help you take me, sweetie.”

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xtcenh · 4 months ago

Text

Dirty Idea

Pairing: Lee Heeseung x Reader x Sim Jake

Description: You and Heeseung are surprised when you find out Jake has been having a little fantasy.

Warnings: SMUT, sex toys, vibrators, it’s a poly relationship, teasing, edging, Dom!Hee, Switch!Jake, Sub!Reader, dry humping, oral, masturbation

Jake doesn’t even know how it started, his fantasy.

Don’t get him wrong, he is plenty satisfied with both of you, he sometimes is so overwhelmed with how much he receives in this relationship. Heeseung is the one that takes the lead on bed, taking control over the two of you, telling Jake how to make you crumble with his touch.

There’s just…something, Jake even thinks he is becoming a pervert with how much he thinks about it, not being too subtle about wanting to express something but backing up every time his boyfriend picks up on it.

“Alright, spill it.”

Both you and Jake, shocked from his voice, looked up at him. You have no idea what Heeseung is referring to, glancing at the boy next to you. Oh, something’s up, the lover next to you is looking up at the one who is demanding an explanation but the one sitting is nervously playing with his hands, gulping down hard his own spit and almost looking away from the one in front gaze.

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

The aussie’s voice is low, speaking softly as if he was scared. Instinctively you wrap your hand around his, caressing it with your thumb, encouraging him to speak up.

“I’m just curious, that's it, you've been acting all weird, trying to tell us something and then backing up. Something happened that made you feel like you couldn’t tell us?”

Hurriedly he shakes his head, answering the question.

“No! Nothing happened! It’s just…nothing important really”

“You know I don’t like it when you guys lie to me”

“…Hee!”

“Just tell us baby”

“I…have been thinking about something, it’s something I would…like to try with you two”

By the attention that the two of you are giving him, it makes him wish that he had spoken up about it before so that the outcome wouldn’t have come up to this.

“It’s…me and Y/N wearing vibrators and Hee controlling them”

Looking everywhere but any of your faces, deep down Jake knows that none of you would judge him nevertheless it feels exposing for him to be told to express his little dirty dream he has been having lately.

A low chuckle directs his attention to Heeseung, quickly glazing your face; he noticed you were blushing, subtly rubbing your thighs just at the sound of the idea; the taller boy leans closer to the both of you and places his hands under his chin.

“Should we go and buy some then?”

Now you aren’t sure if you are glad or mad at Jake for his idea.

The vibrating device is placed on top of your pussy lips, pushing directly against your clitoris, being put in place with the help of your panties, its vibrations are intense, your device having several options of the pace that it could go. Heeseung specifically asked you to wear a short skirt; easy access; while you and Jake do chores around the house while Heeseungs watches.

The male who is equally being tortured isn’t in better shape than you, his devices sit perfectly wrapped around his tip, making the bulge between his trousers more prominent.

Heeseung is currently watching both of you squirm around while trying to get the tasks you've been ordered to do around, men-spreading in his seat, smirk on his face while one hand is on the controller of your device and the other one in the other man’s device.

Gasping when the speed on th vibrator picks up, you feel your knees getting weaker, having to hold tight unto the wall next to you. Whatever it was you were doing, fell from your hand into the ground.

Hardly being able to focus, your eyes land on the man that is controlling your pleasure, it seems like he is already waiting for you.

“Hee…please!”

Grinning even harder at your plea, he turns his gaze to the other man, turning his pace as well. The whine has you looking at Jake, pretty much in the same position as you, he was near the kitchen counter, grasping it with force so as not to fall down to the ground.

Inhaling as much air as your lungs need once Heeseung turns off your vibratior, it looks like he is more into making Jake suffer right now. Giving you a quick glaze he motions with his hand for you to go sit next to him, which you follow.

“Continue with your chores pretty boy”

His shaking figure tries to continue his work, only for Hee to speed up the buzzing. Mouth open letting out a loud moan, eyes scrunching close and one hand going to soothe the pleasure in his crotch.

“No touching”

Hand fleeing up, he cries, begging for mercy. Your thighs clenching at the sight, biting down on your lip, Heeseung’s free hand drops down to grip your thigh, squeezing it as if to warn you, “Sorry…”

“Jake, come here”

Once the older boyfriend turns off his device as well, he walks over, Heeseung ordering both of you to sit on your knees in front of him, Jake sitting down on the right and you on the left.

“Make out with each other”

Rapidly, Jake’s hands are behind your neck pulling you closer, locking your lips together. Your hands grab his shirt, fisting it with neediness.

You both stop your kiss for a second when you guys feel the vibrations come back to life, going back to messily licking each other’s mouth knowing to not disappoint Heeseung. Continuing to make out, his tongue comes in contact with yours, saliva dripping down your mouth from him sucking on your tongue.

“Fuck, you both are so needy, you both look so good, so hot.”

Opening your eyes in between the kiss, you look up at Heeseung, not containing your curiosity about his looks. He groans at the eye contact, palming his hard bulge that was growing with the pornographic scene in front of him.

The look that you give him while never halting your intense make out with Jake has him feeling dizzy, and somehow generous he turns up your vibrations, indicating you should cum soon. You say that he is somehow generous because you could feel the disappointment coming from Jake’s body when Heeseung turns his device down, a setting that makes the little device come to life and seconds later it dies.

Heeseung is edging him while trying to make you cum as soon as possible.

“Yea, go on princess, cum for us.”

Jake looks like he is trying to help you when his mouth leaves yours and instead starts to attack your neck, biting and leaving marks on it, one of his hands teasing the pecking nipple under your shirt.

Hips thrusting up, head falling to your side, landing on Heeseung’s knee, you look up at him, asking for permission even if it has been already granted.

“Ah! Please! Ngh!”, “Go on princess”, “Yea, let go baby”

In cue, you cum, reaching your climax, your body reacting with intensity. Head feeling heavier, back arching into Jake’s touch, “Thank you!”

Now it’s Jake’s turn to look up in plea to his boyfriend, asking for more.

“You look so cute puppy, wanting more, right?”

“Yes! Please”

The new position after you calmed down has you straddling Jake’s lap, hands on your waist and yours on his shoulders.

“You want to grind against her pussy puppy?”

“Ujum!”

One last smile at the pleasing boy and he turns the device on top of his tip back to life. The one in front of you bringing you even closer, doing exactly what the other one told him, grinding against you.

You don’t know how hard the buzzing on Jake’s device is but you can feel it against your cunt, digging your nails unto his shoulders at how intense he is thrusting up on you, still feeling a bit overwhelmed with your climax.

As if you were challenging him, it feels like Jake’s pace goes even faster, realizing he is closer to cumming all over his underwear. With weak hands you bring his face closer, pecking his lips.

“Fuck baby, I love the feeling of your pussy against me”

“I-I love the feeling of your cock too…”

Last glance at the one sitting on the couch, the contact telling him that he is able to cum whenever he wants now.

Jake’s groans and moans can be heard all over the room, shaking in his hold you feel wetter and closer as well, pressing hard into you with one last grunt, both of you as cumming down, reaching the so deserved climax.

Huffing, gasping, searching for air, Jake leaving kisses all over your neck up to your mouth.

“Come here, both of you”

Quickly moving your body, both you and Jake find yourselves back again in kneeling in front of Heeseung’s body, looking up at him, fisting his cock at the sight of you two grinding all over each other like puppies in heat.

“Make out with my cock the way you do with each other.”

Following his orders, tongues all over his dick, you from one side and Jake from the other, one up the other one down, even both tongues coming in contact while sucking Heeseung off.

He can feel both of your tongues in the top of his dick, inevitably making him cum all over both of your wet muscles. Groaning at the feeling while both of you hum at the taste of him.

One last kiss on his tip before he grabs you both and sits you two next to him, “that was a great idea Jake.”

1K notes · View notes

moonlesslights · 2 years ago

Text

Miguel O’hara in Love

Headcanons.

━━━━━━ ✿ 🕷️ ❀ ━━━━━

A/N: I was really looking forward to write this, because I just can’t get this whole idea out of my head.

Warnings: Basically none, a little bit of angst maybe?, some smut references and depictions. Miguel being Miguel. Kinda obsessive (?)

This text is based in that frase of Joe Goldberg: “There’s not a line, in the world, that I wouldn’t cross for you”. So be prepared.

Enjoy, my loves. Every comment or request is welcomed! 🤍

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Miguel was curious of you from the very moment he met you. Such a unique presence among all the others.

You had been bitten just a month ago. And it was hard for you. He saw you struggle, falling over and over again, training till exhaustion, fighting to be on the level of the others.

And the worst part of it all, was the guilt coming to attack him with every side eye Jessica gave to him. “If you weren’t going to help her, you should have let her alone.” The woman had whispered while both of them looked at you fighting to climb another building. Miguel knew she was right. He was the one who insisted in bringing you immediately after they found you (only a couple of days after the bite), even when Jessica insisted to give you time for you to figure it out alone. Miguel wasn’t having it, and now… “She’s been at it for the whole morning.” The woman pursed her lips, shaking her head.

What Jessica didn’t quite know was that Miguel hadn’t left you alone all this time… He wasn’t good at talking, that was true. He wasn’t good at showing his support with words, but that didn’t mean he didn’t care.

You let out a pained groan when you finally plop on the concrete of the building’s rooftop. Every single muscle of your body aches and you can fell your heart pounding harshly against your ribcage, making it feel like every breath that makes it to your lungs it’s just a mere miracle.

The weight of the presence of someone standing beside you forces you to blink out of your thoughts. Tiredly, you look up, finding Miguel's mask glaring back at you with a deep frown you can make out of the way his eyes curve.

He holds a white little package on his right and he hands it to you before finally sitting down without making a single sound. It had all started like a little game between the two of you: You pretend you don’t see his figure hovering above a building while you train, or his silhouette watching you getting back to The Society place safely. You also pretend you don’t know it’s him who leaves bandages and painkillers over your bed every day with a little chocolate next to it. And he pretends he doesn’t know that you know.

You cross your legs and smile when you open the small box on your hands, smelling the sweet scent of warm and fresh food. You also take notice of how he changed one of the things he brought you last time, you didn’t have the heart to tell him, but you were sure now he definitely noticed you didn’t like it.

“Eat.” He orders and you are too tired to remark his tone of voice with a roll of your eyes. So you nod, bringing a big spoonful of pasta and vegetables to your mouth, thanking him with a big smile. Smile he doesn’t return. He never does anyway. But now it’s not like always. He’s pissed. “When was the last time you ate?”

You look straight ahead, avoiding his gaze. You swallow, slowly, feeling his eyes burning on the side of your head.

“Mhm… Not long ago, no.” You answer, mumbling while you get more food into your mouth. Miguel raises an eyebrow.

“Training this much without any nutriments won’t do anything good for you…”

“Training this much won’t do anything anyway.” You sigh, keeping then the fork between your lips. Miguel wishes to say something but he can’t find the words, he can’t order his thoughts inside his head to place them on his tongue and tell you just how much you have improved since the first day, so he gladly receives your bright eyes turning to him when you seem to remember: “But I finally climbed this building, see? Without using any web, only my spider fingers.”

The man nods at you waving playfully at him. The determination in your eyes even when your whole body wanted to give up, even when you know you’re still not close to go on a mission by yourself (or with anyone else), even when you probably couldn’t even sleep fine because of the sore bruises, the determination in your eyes didn’t flatter.

That made him feel something deep is his hands, a tingle he couldn’t control. And he hated it.

“Tomorrow at seven.” He sentences, standing on his feet again.

You frown, raising big eyes at him. The brightness in them when the weight of his words hit you destabilizes him.

“For real?”

“Yes.” He looks away. “If I don’t train you you’re not getting anywhere.”

His comment goes unnoticed for the excitement running all along your body.

“Ok.” You nod, trying to look professional but failing miserably.

He grunts in response, soon jumping off of the building and losing among all of the city chaos. In some minutes he would be back at the Society lobby. You… An hour. Give or take.

Training with Miguel was nothing but… Hell.

No, it actually wasn’t. You expected you could say that to make people thing you were having it hard, but he insisted on starting with the basics… basics that you already felt like being good at.

Still, climbing had become easier within the first week of training with him. The tips and advices he insisted you to follow helped you thinking of it more like a game than a must do.

Swinging was still a tricky one. You used to lose your balance when the demanded velocity was too much. Panic rushed over you, feeling like you would crash against a window or a fucking person, or another spider doing their own training.

“Trust your senses.” Miguel said to you every time you fell, and every time you death glared at him for that. He didn’t have one of the most important senses for spider people and he still managed to be better than anyone you could have known. You had them all, and they all seemed to be a mess when you tried to use them.

Soon enough, Miguel learned about a way to motivate you: Rewards. Most of the time was food, some others, the promise of letting you rest for more that five minutes was enough. For a week now, it had been a little bit different.

History. You loved it. And you changed any delicious and tasty food for hours listening to Miguel explaining everything about the multiverse and the tangled webs between all of you. He had told you about his first travels to other Earths at least three times, but you couldn’t seem to get tired.

You might not tell him how much his voice soothes you after a long day out, but it wasn’t necessary, he could see it. On the other hand, he definitely would never tell you how he glanced at you, completely asleep after another history session, memorizing every breath, every mole and freckle, counting every single one of your eyelashes like the stars on the sky above you.

No. You would never find out about that.

Today was supposed to be just like any other day: quiet, calm and premeditated. Nothing out of the routine you and Miguel had adopted for the past four weeks.

But with you, things were never that easy. Boredom was a dangerous thing for you, Miguel had learned it by now. The hard way. If something became not enough exciting for your restless self, you would look for that spark of adrenaline at any cost. It was part of your determination. Heart of a lion. He knew that. But it didn’t change the fact he would have to save you from breaking a few bones every once in a while.

“I’m sorry” You would say after he dropped you on the safe floor again. He would turn to look at you, fire running up his veins. Every time he wanted to yell at you, to snap and tell you it was the last time you do something like that. And every time he would sigh, pressing both finger on the bridge of his nose, finally grunting in a low voice:

“Desobedeciste deliberadamente.” A month was enough for you to know exactly what those words meant.

“I know.”

“You could have hurt yourself.”

“I know…” Then the bright eyes. Always the bright eyes. “But I have to try, I can’t depend on you forever. Getting hurt it’s just part of the way.”

He hated you were right. He lost count of how many broken ribs he got on his first years, of how many scars he still hides under his suit. Eventually, you would have to learn to stand up even if you’re bleeding. Even if you’re dying.

He is not mad at you for disobeying, that’s bullshit. He admired that of you, actually. You don’t act by fear, you do not fear him. You follow your heart even when you know you could get in trouble for it. No, he’s mad because every time he catches you before you hit the ground, all he can think about is that there’s going to be a moment where he won’t be there to do it. And the sound of your body crashing against the concrete, of your pain, would follow him till the darkest moments of the night, where he curses the day you’ll scream his name and he will be too far away to hear it.

“I want to change my reward for today.” You smile at him, both of your hands behind your back, making him suspicious of your teasing voice.

“You’re not going anywhere with Hobie.” He responds in a neutral voice, starting to walk in front of you.

You roll your eyes, shaking your head before getting in front of him and starting to walk backwards so you could keep facing him.

“It’s not that.” You insist. He doesn’t answer and you know that’s his way of telling you to go on. You sigh. “I want to see you without your mask.”

That makes him stop dead on his tracks. He tilts his head, questioning you with curious eyes. That’s all you wanted? No, you wanted that? Why?

Were you really that bored?

“I feel like everyone here has seen you at least one time, except for me. And it’s not fair.” You got a point on that. He spends most of his time training you, you share almost every meal together, he’s the last person you usually talk everyday because you’re too tired to do anything other than going to your room and sleep. You have spent entire days with him, you have cried and made a mess of yourself in front of his presence, and you didn’t even know his face.

You can deny the sting of irritation you get every time Hobie or Gwen, or any other come talking about what they said during the meeting before a mission, meetings where, you had learnt, Miguel used to take off his mask. Peter told you it wasn’t that big of a deal. You wanted to punch him.

“If that’s what you want.” Miguel crosses his arms, tilting his head at you. “Now go tra-…”

You were gone before he could even finish his sentence. He sees your figure going around the building he chose for this particular session. Your swinging had gotten better over the last weeks and the confidence you had in yourself had also been improving, showing your true strength for him to see.

Jessica insisted on you being ready to train at the top levels with the others inside The Society training center, or at least to try. But Miguel profusely refused. He had designed many of the levels to train there, he knew the damage they could cause to someone not prepared to face them.

He blame it on his sense of responsibility over you the fact that he denied any attempt to put you on an unnecessary risk, but deep down, he knew that from the moment he stepped in front of you while you cried for that death he knew all too well now, and then observed how you wiped your tears and showed him your fists, ready to fight him despite everything… He was fucked.

You were the little thing he decided to protect even if it costed his life. The little thing that trusted his claws to hold at her, that puts its life on the line without a second thought. It is not his fault to have never experienced anything like this, to don’t know what to do, to act like a fool, to refuse to lose it… How they cannot understand?

“Done.” You jump in front of him, getting him out of his thoughts.

He looks up, seeing all of the targets on the building covered by a good layer of web. Your precision could be better, but you’re getting at it.

He sighs. He turns to face you completely before ordering his nanotechnology to uncover his face. Dark wavy hair falls onto his temples, brown skin glimmers under the heavy sun above you, full lips press against each other and two cold brown eyes glare down at you.

When you don’t say anything, he raises an eyebrow at you.

“Is this what you wanted? Are you happy now?”

You nod without waiting for another question.

“I just wanted to see your eyes.” You answer confident, smiling softly at him.

It is enough to say he never wore his mask on around you ever again.

Miguel O'Hara isn’t good in what emotion management respects.

He knows it, but he doesn’t have the time or care to try to do something about it.

It wasn’t that big of a deal…

Yeah, it wasn’t that big of a deal until one specially busy morning where he couldn’t make it to your first training, he went on looking for you… And he couldn’t find you.

He went to your room, your favorite places; he went looking all around the city, praying to find you just jumping above some buildings. But you were nowhere to be found. And it wasn’t until one Peter took mercy on him that pointed the worst place to be pointed: The training center.

With his heart going a thousand miles per hour, he started to look for you inside the complex. And when he caught a glimpse of Jessica looking up with a proud smile, he knew exactly where you were.

“She’s doing even better than I could’ve imagined. You’re a great mentor, Miguel.”

“Why is she here?” He answered immediately. Jess raised an eyebrow at him, confused by the uneasiness on his voice.

“Does that really matter? Look at her, Miguel!” She pointed at you with her extended hand. “Aren’t you proud of her?”

Of course he was. But what he couldn’t stand was someone else messing and taking choices over the one and only thing he has. So instead of answering her question, he sentenced: “Don’t ever get close to her again.”

“Miguel…”

“You can mess around with any other, but there is a fucking line, Jess. You chose yours, and I respect them. Don’t mess with mine.”

When he finally appeared in front of you, you smiled brightly at him. He looked like any other day, completely unfazed and with a calmed expression you were so used to see by now.

“Time to call it a day, don’t you think?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. You were sweating, you arms were trembling and you could barely control your breath by now, and still… You shook your head.

“I want to try this level one last time.” He was ready to talk you out of it but your pleading eyes made him look down at Jess, who, with a single movement, made him understand what she was talking about.

“Fine, but I’ll be with you every step of the way, got it?” His frustration made you giggle when you nodded.

You didn’t make it till the end of the level, but you tried, and that was all that mattered to you. To Miguel, having been able to take you to the wall before you crashed against a crystal under you was the main thing that mattered.

It had been a whole experience, but it remained like that. Enough time at least for him to push his way of react behind him. Until something made it snap again.

His eyes fly to all of the cameras in front of him, fixing his pupils in whatever screen he could catch a glimpse of your suit.

The threat they were expecting for your first mission ended up being a lot more aggressive and capable than hoped. You and your partner had already received a few good hits by the time Miguel reached for the Call button.

“How are you?” Is the first thing you hear when you press ‘answer’.

“Never better.” You reply, smiling at the interface of your pretty boss clenching his jaw.

“Need help?”

You immediately shake your head. “Not at all, we’re managing just fine.” Your figure distorts while you swing around. Heavy steps following you up close. “I gotta go, Miguel. See you back at home.”

“No, wai-…” He widens his eyes, trying to reach you before you end the call. His fists tighten and his eyes close, fighting to keep himself calm.

But our man can’t catch a break, because as soon as his breath starts to get back to its normal speed, a camera showing on one of the screens burst out with a big clatter, forcing his eyes open only to see his worst fear take form in front of him.

You were struggling against the anomaly, kicking your feet in the air and trying desperately to get his hands off your neck. Your partner was nowhere to be seen. You appear to lose you patience when you stop fighting and instead shoot webs to the creature’s eyes. The anomaly maddens, and throws you against the next building on the street.

Miguel's eyes follow your body across two cameras, watching in horror the blood dripping from your mouth when you cough after the blow, struggling to get on your feet again.

His hands move quicker than he can process, bringing all the information about the Earth you were on for him to see.

“Miguel.” Jessica calls from behind.

“Where the hell did you send her?” He whispers, reading the screen displayed. “I told you she wasn’t ready to go.”

“Miguel, look.” She insists, this time with a more demanding voice.

But the man can’t think of anything else more than you bleeding. Alone and injured.

“You said it was an easy one.” He growls in a low and dangerous voice.

“I’m…”

“I told you she wasn’t ready!” He snaps, looking back at her. His fangs pinch on his lower lip, so hard he can feel a drop of scarlet liquid running down his chin.

And it’s not until Jess takes a step back and Lyla calls his name that he realizes the way his claws had ripped the metal in front of him.

And then… A call.

He blinks out of his trance, looking up at the screen with your name on it. He hits ‘answer’ and your dirty suit and scratched face make an appearance.

His red eyes relax at the sight, returning to those soft brown irises and dark pleased pupils reserved only for you. He hides his fangs and his claws are no longer nowhere to see. Just you. It was just you again. And you were okay.

“Miguel, look!” You smile at him, pointing the camera on your watch for him to see your partner finishing to tie up the anomaly. “We got it!”

“Yeah, yeah, I see.” He can’t help but let out a small glimpse of a smile over his lips, nodding at your excitement.

“Oh, you’re smiling. Wait for me to come back, I wanna see it in person.” And just like that, his smile is gone.

“Don’t take any longer. Both of you, come back as soon as possible.”

And with that, the call is ended once again, leaving him in a room with heavy air and thick silence. He jumps off of the platform, still glaring at Jessica in silence.

“You know that wasn’t right.” She whispers. “The way you’re acting it isn’t right, Miguel.”

He shakes his head, slowing his movements until he remains still just a few feet away from the entrance.

“You don’t know what it’s like.” He murmurs.

“Oh, now I don’t know?!” She opens her mouth with indignation, but Miguel doesn’t alter.

“It’s not like that and you know it.” He hisses. “I have lost everything in this world. I am utterly alone. And even between us, there a strings that doesn’t tangle. You have a husband and a soon to come baby, a family that awaits for you at home, but what do I have, Jess?”

The woman, for the first time, remains silent.

“I have her. I only have her.” He says. “Not a single thing in this world belongs to me but her. Everything else have been taken away from me, everything I once had has disappeared: my job, my life, my normal life. If she’s ripped from my hands, I have nothing left. And I cannot keep fighting for a life I don’t want to live. This is not only for her, Jess. If I lose her, I will tear the universe apart with my own hands.”

A single shiver ran down her spine, watching Miguel exiting the complex to find you arriving almost at the same moment.

She watched how his threat takes meaning when you wrap your arms around him and his eyes brighten at the sound of your laugh.

She knows that if they ever were to lose that light, the whole multiverse would dim with them.

Miguel wanted to own you.

He wasn’t good at hiding it.

His hands would come to your hips, grabbing your tights or caressing your waist under your clothes.

Your scent would drive him into his animalistic side at every given moment. Until the point he would have to step meters away from you during the meetings in order to keep himself from the smell of your hair and your soft skin.

But when he didn’t keep himself from you, he would come from behind you, embracing you with his whole body. His face would bury in the curve of your neck, sending shivers with his tongue coming out, tracing a single line till reaching your ear, where he would whisper what he wants, where he would ask you to let him touch you.

When you say yes, he would drop his head and sink your fingers on your tender skin, pressing his hips against your body when you throw your head back, allowing him to do as he wished so with you, to mark you as his as many times as he wanted.

“Miguel…” You sigh this time, feeling his hands clinging at your suit, desperate to touch your skin instead.

He had just returned from a mission that had kept him away from you three days. You had imagined he would’ve returned tired and ready to sleep for fifteen hours, but instead he took you straight into his bedroom and pushed you against the wall, where he now holds you still with both of his arms.

“Take it off.” He whispers, tugging again at your suit. He was being nice this time, and you thank him internally for that. You don’t have the strength to ask Lyla for another suit.

You complain with a happy humming, letting your body fully exposed before him except for your panties still covering your ass and pussy.

The man switches off his own suit, letting you see up close the tent under his boxers. His fingers grasp at your thighs, forcing your legs open for him. Two of his digits run along your folds over your panties for around ten seconds before he decides to tore away your undergarment and place his hand back at your sex.

You would have complained about his behavior but his fingers pressing down on your clit rip only a moan out of your throat. He plays with your sensitive bundle until you’re wet and seconds away from an orgasm he pretends to steal away when he stops his movements.

“No, please…” You cry out, your legs threatening to give up.

“Shhh, patience, mi amor, I’m not done yet.” With one hand he pushes you up, forcing you to wrap your legs around his neck for support before he starts eating you out like a starved man.

You tighten your tights around his head, almost screaming at your over sensitive pussy being stimulated even more, with his tongue pushing in and out for a while until he takes it to your clit again, sucking in, ripping another hard cry out of you. You are so close. And when he finally joins in two of his fingers to curve inside of you, it’s your end.

You scream his name, clenching around his digits, making him growl enough to feel the vibration running down your skin. He guides you through all of it until you finally seem to catch your breath again.

But then, he takes out his fingers and drops his boxes to the floor. His dick throbbed painfully, making him hiss when he stroke it a few times before pressing against you, chest to chest, and bottoming out all the way with a single thrust.

“Fuck, Miguel!” You throw your head back as he does the contrary, sinking his fangs into your skin, trying not to lose control.

“May I move?” He asks, breathing heavily on your skin.

You nod.

“Yes, yes, please move.” He groan in pleasure at your words, starting to move your hips in and down to match the rhythm of his.

You wrap your arms around his neck, moaning sweetly against his ear while he pick up the pace. Soon enough, only the sound of skin slapping on skin could be heard around you, with nothing but your moans and gasps indicating him where he had to thrust, and his deep growls showing you how close he was.

“Cum for me.” He says, pushing your back back to the wall with his hand around your neck, squeezing you under his fingers. “I wanna see you cum.” He demands, making of his pace nothing but a mess of thrusts.

He was so close, he just needed…

“Miguel!” Your eyes roll to the back of your head, letting out desperate whimpers when your legs tremble around him and your walls clench around his cock, sending him so high he has to bite you again to avoid a throaty moan escape from him.

You could barely begin to feel your toes again when you feel him tightening his grip around you before walking out to the bed.

He was ready for the next round.

…

Thank you so much for coming all this way!

PD: I know Miguel fangs have paralyzing venom but let’s just pretend he can choose when to use it and when don’t.

This might not be good but I had the idea of this thread of story and I just wanted to write it.

I hope you have at least enjoyed some of it.

Love y’all. Sending a lot of love. See ya. <3

PD2: I’m trying to work now on a Sub!Miguel thing. It may be still a couple of days from it, but I want to be good. And I haven’t decided if it would be just porn or porn with plot. So let me know!

PD3: I’ll be doing cleaning and correction between today and tomorrow.

#miguel ohara x y/n #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o’hara #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara smut #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara smut

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kusanagi-haruno · 6 months ago

Text

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ NIGHTS LIKE THIS !

ఌ sum: Ever since Gojo saw you, he’s been nothing but love struck. And as time passes, you find yourself feeling the same.

wc: 3.2K

Warnings: Fem!reader, Gojo is basically obsessed with you, Uni AU, Modern AU, Eventual smut, Porn w plot, Making out, Oral (F receiving), P in V sex, Light choking, Praising, Pet names: Pretty girl, beautiful, sweet girl.

a/n: originally this was written for my friend with a different character, but I decided to change it to gojo so I can post it here for you lovelies :)!!!!

Lovestruck Gojo! who forgot how to breathe when he first saw you enter the lecture the first day. His eyes raked over your form, taking in every detail from when you first entered through the door to when you sat down. He bit the inside of his cheek when he saw you sit a few rows in front of him. He ignored the stinging pain that followed after biting the wall of his mouth, too entranced by you to even care.

Lovestruck Gojo! who grew more frustrated as the weeks passed. He cursed his inability to go up to you and just talk. The way your lips seemed to shine every time he looked at them, how the outsides of your eyes creased when you smiled just made him so nervous.

Lovestruck Gojo! who swears his prayers finally have been answered when you two were paired up for a project. He sat up a little bit straighter when the professor announced your name next to his. He swore the sun shined a little bit brighter that day.

Lovestruck Gojo! who’s heart raced when he noticed you make your way towards him at the end of the lecture. He pretended not to notice you, which was hard because he knows he’s noticed just about everything you had to offer. His heart raced when he heard your voice speak to him, in his head was a million thoughts scrambling through his mind.

Lovestruck Gojo! who’s voice cracked when he spoke his first words to you. “I’m sorry?” He questioned when he realized he didn’t respond to you. “Want to exchange contacts? It’ll be easier to keep in touch this way,” he heard you ask. It felt like his breath got caught in his throat, the softness, the perfection of your voice paralyzed him. He knew he had to answer this time, he had to make a good first impression.

Lovestruck Gojo! who hurriedly agreed to give you his number. After that brief conversation, he watched you walk away. He swore his heart would jump out of his chest any moment now, however he wouldn’t even be mad, not when the reason his heart was beating was because of you.

Lovestruck Gojo! who swears he’s on cloud nine. Ever since the both of you have been partnered up for that project, the both of you have slowly gotten closer and closer. Everyday he would wake up with one thought in his mind, you. When he got ready for your guys’ daily meet up to slowly progress on the project, he made sure to look his very best. He always double checked to see if his hair was laid correctly, that his teeth looked white as ever, and that his clothes smelled perfect.

Lovestruck Gojo! who silently congratulated himself every time he made you laugh. Sometimes you would catch him staring, but you found yourself not being bothered by it one bit. You couldn’t deny that you undoubtedly caught feelings for the man in front of you during the time you guys spent together. You found yourself blushing everytime he remembered your coffee order, even more so when he paid for it everytime.

Lovestruck Gojo! who felt like his world was destroyed when the project came to an end. He should’ve felt any form of happiness, but he couldn’t. Not when he had no excuse to see you anymore. When he rolled over in his bed, he felt like sinking into it just to never come out again.

Lovestruck Gojo! who groaned when he heard his phone buzz signaling he got a notification. He silently debated on ignoring it, almost positive it was a random notification from a random app. Although he twisted and turned, soon facing his phone on the nightstand beside him with a small hope that maybe, maybe, you texted him.

Lovestruck Gojo! whose heart went from 0 to 100 the moment he saw it was you who texted him. He immediately opened the notification and read your text, he smiled so hard that it hurt. “Party tn, wanna come? We can let loose a little as a little celebration for finishing that stupid project :).”

Lovestruck Gojo! who never got ready so fast in his life before. He made sure to reply to your text before doing so, he’d rather die than have you think he purposefully ignored you.

Lovestruck Gojo! who had no idea just how fast your heart was beating. Your friends pressured you into texting him, knowing just how much you liked him. You didn’t know whether to curse them out or hug them, but the thought diminished as soon as you saw he replied to you, agreeing to come.

Lovestruck Gojo! who felt the same as he first did the very first second he saw you when he saw you tonight, in front of him. He clenched his fists when he took note just how many other men were in the same building as you, almost hard enough to draw blood. All negative feelings vanished when he locked eyes with you, and instead new ones blossomed. He took note how you styled your hair, and wore a little more makeup than usual. His eyebrows furrowed when he thought that you wanted to look good for somebody else.

Lovestruck Gojo! who slowly lost himself in your eyes. The both of you agreed to dance with each other, mirroring each other's smiles. He lost track of time, not that he cared though. The only thing he cared about was the feeling of your arms around his neck, your eyes looking right at him and fuck the glossiness of your lips. Everything about you was perfect, and he wanted to kill every man who looked at you tonight.

Lovestruck Gojo! whose body felt like it was on fire right now. He doesn’t know who leaned first, but he couldn’t give a fuck about that. Not when the feeling over your soft, plushy lips against his sent his mind, body, and soul to heaven and back. He could only focus on the small, shaky breaths that escaped your lips when he sucked particularly hard, and fuck he loved it more than he should. What’s new though, he always loved you way more than the normal amount.

Lovestruck Gojo! who almost whined when you finally broke the kiss, but what you said after instantly made up for it. “Wanna get out of here?” He didn’t know how a person could be so fucking adorable, but you break his expectations everyday.

His silently nodded, little pants escape his lips as you take his hand and lead him out of the party.

As soon as the two of you barely make it to your dorm, you’re pushed up against the door. You let out a gasp when your head meets the firmness of your dorm door, but quickly the pain turns into pleasure when he takes the opportunity of your opened mouth to slide his tongue into your mouth.

You feel his hands touch every part of your body, trying to memorize every part of you. You hear him chuckle against your lips when you let out soft whines when he touches a particularly sensitive spot, and fuck did that make you wet.

“Such a fucking pretty girl,” he mumbles into your mouth. You let out a whine at the praise, your hands resting against his firm chest. His hands rest on your hips, squeezing them whenever he finds himself feeling too much of everything.

He often found himself denying that you were real, but you were here, under his touch, kissing him. Him, of all people. If he told his past self that he’d up like this with you, his past self would laugh, or faint, either or.

You find yourself slowly backing up until you hit your bed with him looming over you. The both of you take a second to just look at each other, a million things spoken with just one look. Both of your eyes gazing at each other full of lust and love before leaning back into each other with more passion than before.

“G-Gojo..fuck,” you moan out as you arch your back. The man on top of you started to slowly roll his hips against yours, the feeling making pleasure flow through the entirety of your body, no area left untouched. “I- ah..I know baby I know”, he coos, feeling the same if not more.

You feel his big hands tug at your shirt, a silent demand to take it off, and you do with no hesitation. Gojo is awestruck, absolutely entranced with how beautiful you look. Every part of you is absolutely perfect, fuck he feels like the luckiest man alive right now.

He detaches his lips from yours, a small string of spit hangs between the both of you. His hands move from the side of your face to your chest, then slowly down to your hips before resting on the side of your stomach. He leaves soft kisses against different areas of your stomach as his hands roam your torso, silently worshiping your body.

“Fuck you’re so beautiful,” he praises, his thumbs stroking the sides of your torso. You let out soft airy breaths in response to his delicate touches, each kiss igniting a small flame in the same area he kissed you.

When he finally makes your way down to your waist, he looks up at you, silently asking for permission. You give him a slight nod and lift your hips to help him remove your pants. Once Gojo throws your bottoms on the floor somewhere you start to get flustered. Almost your whole body is exposed while he’s still fully dressed. Guess you’re going to have to change that.

You softly call out his name, to which he answers with a small hum. His face is near your clothed pussy, so when he hummed you felt every little bit of it. You subconsciously opened your legs to the feeling of pleasure that sparked through your body as, and let out a squeak when he places a small kiss to your clothed pussy.

“Gojo..” you whine. “Y-you’re still dressed,” you pant out. You feel him chuckle from in between your legs and you let out another small moan in response. “Aww, is my poor baby embarrassed?” He mocks, a small smirk gracing his features.

“N-no..” You mumble with a small pout, but the both of you know otherwise. Gojo quickly rids of his shirt and leans down to give you a quick peck before moving down to your pussy.

You feel your panties are wet, and he sees that they’re wet, and you should feel embarrassed but you don’t.

Gojo tears off your panties and before you can complain, he licks a long stripe from your pussy to your clit. You buck up in response to which his hands fly to your hips to hold them down. After that he makes quick work of making a mess out of you.

You release moan after moan when he repeatedly laps your clit, showing no sign of stopping. The lewd noises of your wet squelches and his sucking fill the room, along with your whimpers and his groans.

As he eats you out the small praises he drunkenly says are lost on your ears. The only thing you can focus on, can even comprehend, was the feeling of his tongue against your wet pussy and oh, the finger he slipped in your poor little pussy.

“Such a good fucking girl, taking me so well,” he praises when he sees you take his finger with no struggle. When your legs twitch he knows you're close and speeds up the thrusting of his one finger and the speed of his tongue against your clit.

“Ah, ah fuck! G-Gojo,” you scream out, so close, just one more second and…

You let out a sob when you feel his finger quickly slip out of your sobbing pussy, and the feeling of his tongue no longer working on your clit. You could almost cry at the lost orgasm.

“Y-you’re so mean,” you sniffle out. “Can’t have you cummin yet baby,” he says shakily. His breaths come out in pants, his thoughts all over the place but the only constant is you.

He leaves a trail of kisses along the inside of your thigh, sucking on them every few kisses. He mumbles soft praises in between, “You're so beautiful, my pretty girl, doing so well.”

When he decides your thighs are littered with enough marks, he moves up your body coming face to face with you. His two fingers prod at your mouth, silently telling you to open your mouth. You obey, your tongue swirling around his thick fingers, tears threatening to spill your eyes.

While you’re working on his two fingers he took the liberty of slowly rolling his hips against yours. He kisses your cheek when he removes his fingers from your mouth, and slowly trails them along your body till he reaches your pussy.

The both of your lips connect when he slowly drags his fingers lightly down your body till they stop at your entrance. He coaxes you to breathe, staring into your eyes as he teases your clit.

He starts to pump his fingers into you, your juices coating his fingers. As you start to loosen up even more he slides another finger into you. The feeling of his thick hands inside of you make you feel impossibly stretched. It feels so good, everything feels so good fuck.

As you near your orgasm you pull him close to you, whimpering and panting wanting, needing to finish as his fingers ruthlessly attack the spongy spot inside your pussy.

“Pleasepleaseplease,” you whine fucked out on his fingers. “Please Gojo let me cum,” you lean in to kiss him but he pulls back, teasing you. He pretends to think, already knowing the answer. “You’ve been such a good girl,” he growls out. Matching his thrusts with his words. “Guess I should let you,” he finishes and kisses you.

His fingers speed up making your legs twitch as you reach your climax. Your moans are beautiful against his ears, he can never get enough of you. You’re so perfect.

You call out his name when you cum, your juices spraying out and coating his fingers. He slows down his tempo to help you ride through your orgasm, swallowing your cute little pants and whines.

“How’s my sweet girl doing?” He coos, cupping your cheek and using his thumb to caress the side of your face. You lean into his touch, still blissfully fucked out on his fingers. You let out a hum to signal you’re still with him.

Red coats your cheeks when you hear him say that you taste so fucking good. You use both of your hands to grasp on his forearm that’s attached to the hand on your cheek. “Mm Gojo,” you softly whisper out his name, not completely sure what the real goal was. You just wanted to say his name.

“I know baby, I know,” he quickly places a peck on your forehead before leaning back and quickly undoing his belt and jeans, leaving him in his boxers. Still in your fucked out state you don’t notice just how big he is.

He makes quick work of his boxers, throwing them in a random corner of the room before leaning down over you. “Is this okay? Are you okay with this?” He asks, and you could almost laugh if you weren’t out of breath. Of course you were okay with this, more than okay. “Yesyesyes, just let me feel you. I want you. Please,” you breathe out, looking straight into his eyes.

And something in him just snaps.

Hearing you beg for him, how utterly desperate you sound, it’s too much, you’re too much. His feelings for you are too much. He drags you to the end of the bed and places your legs over his shoulders. He shoves your full length inside of your pussy and you cry out. He’s so big…

You barely have time to adjust before he pulls back out and slams back into you. You grip onto his back, nails scratching down the entirety of his backside. “‘Ts too much- Ah!” moan after moan fills the room, the lewd sounds of your skin slapping against each other is basically drowned out by both your cries and his grunts.

The ruthless pace he sets makes your tits bounce against his chest, and he doesn’t fail to notice. His mouth greedily sucks on one while his hand fondles the other. “Oh my god! You feel so good ah..,” the sound of your cute little moans do downright dirty things to him. It makes him want to fucking ruin you.

When he decides your right boob is marked up enough he moves to your other, spitting on it before continuing his same merciless treatment on it.

You feel like your soul left your body when one of his hands lifted your hips a bit so he could thrust deeper into you. His cock is filling every single bit of you, and your pussy is greedily sucking him in.

“Ngh..Gojo feels so good. Your cock is filling me ah! so well,” you chant out his name like a prayer.

Once he declares both of your pretty tits taken care of he wraps a hand around your throat and makes eye contact with you. “Beautiful girl..taking me so well. Perfect, you’re fucking perfect,” he praises against your lips.

Both of you are near, you can feel his cock twitching inside of you and Gojo can feel how your pretty pussy is gripping him even more tight. It’s basically calling out his name, pulsing around his dick like a needy little thing.

“Gojo!” You scream out when you cum for the second time that night. Just a few more thrusts and he releases inside of you as well, spilling his warm cum inside of you.

His pace slows as he rides out his orgasm while also helping you ride out yours. “So perfect..did so well, pretty girl, did so fucking good,” he whispers. He continues to let out sweet praises as both of you continue to catch your breath.

You weren’t sure when you closed your eyes, but when you reopened them you were now in the bath against a firm, hard chest. You close your eyes again, relishing the feeling of being relaxed against him.

Gojo on the other hand is still in awe, he can’t, will not believe that you’re here with him. Leaning against him like this has been routine for years, like you guys have been together.

He rests his cheek against your head and you softly hum. His hands gently rub incoherent shapes against your hips as the two of you seek comfort against the both of each other.

Lovestruck!Gojo who kisses the crown of your head as his arms snake around your waist. His hold tightens, and you let it.

Lovestruck! Gojo who promises himself to keep holding you like this now, and in the future. Who promises to never let you go, and you’d never dream of letting him.

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