#anyway rant over i’m going to bed

[poyopaan]

i did some applications today and gotta say? kill me

[ao3screenshotss]

sometimes i worry about my internet footprint and the fact that it might stop me from getting a job in the future or something (i literally run a blog posting screenshots from fanfics i read) but then i think ‘well damn, if they can find all this information about me then i don’t deserve the job cause i know i wouldn’t put in that much effort to find information on someone’ and i feel better

[camgoloud]

you know, i’ve never in my life been blackout drunk before. this may change sometime in the next couple of days

[rosicheeks]

-

[warriorsatthedisco]

Man I used to sympathize people with chronic illness, but now I can really empathize. This shit sucks and it has the worst snowball effect too.

[sleep-0-deprived]

HEYYY I CAN REQUEST KITSUNE!DAZAI WITH TOP!SUB!READER, WITH BREEDING KINK AND WITH A BIT OF FOREPLAY, AMAB OF COURSE (PLEASE KITSUNE DAZAI HAS BEEN LEAVING IN MY MIND RENT FREE AND THERE ISN'T ENOUGH KITSUNE DAZAI BLOGS)

Desperation ~

Kitstune dazai x dom bottom male reader

Female aligned dni and Mdni this is an 18+ only blog with nsfw below the cut

A/N edited omg your right there aren’t hardly any kistune dazai fics and him with breeding! I think we have the same mind there anyway enough with my rant hope you enjoy I just saw I did your request backwards I’m so sorry bout that!

Mating season, it was something dazai knew all too well and he absolutely loved and hated it all together, he hated feeling the desperation to breed between his legs but god did you love breeding you although to his disappointment he could never knock you up? But oh well he’ll keep trying!

So here he was under you gasping and whining “pleasee I need to be inside you baby!~” begging as his cock twitches in your hand while stroking his hard cock as it drips pre cum all over your hand making a sticky mess as his tail wags his ears laying flat “you need to breed huh? Wanna stuff me already?”

You ask as your hand finds its way to his shaft while he try’s to fuck his cock into your fist making his cock pulse as your grip “yes! Mhm needa fill you up baby please let me stuff your hole—“

dazai groans and pounces on you pleading as his cock slips from your hand twitching as haunt your thigh as he begs with his tail swaying.

“So tempting dazai? You’re always so needy when it’s mating season….” Rolling your eyes as you push him on his back on your bed with his head against the head board as you undo your pants slipping your boxers off leaving your cock springing hard up against your stomach.

“N-no baby please don’t want you to ride me~! I wanna fuck you this time I wanna mount you wanna be on top pleasee~!” He pleaded looking up at you as he lays rock hard with his cock hard and needy for your attention “hm? What’s that? Maybe I should let you just this once since your being so good dazai!”

Giggling as you nod allowing him to be on top of you fucking you as you lay on your chest letting your ass stay raised up as you turn your head guiding his cock to your ass as your rim puckers around his tip making his thighs tremble his ears laying flat.

He lays on top of you whining like some lost puppy as he shoved his cock inside you letting your walls clench and suck around his cock all warm as your rim stretches wide adjusting to him.

“Baby please please! Needa move my hips!” Dazai drools in your ear kissing and licking your neck all over from behind trembling to keep his hips from moving as he fights the urge to start fucking you like a rabbit with his tail twitching and flicking at the end.

“You can move dazai~” you nod with a small moan as he holds your hips tightly digging his nails into you without wasting a second he starts pounding into you capping and putting right into your ear making you grip hold of the bed sheets tight “thank you! thank you baby I love you so much!~”

dazai drools out all high on sex pollen as he thrusts snapping his hips rapidly making your ass cheeks red as he holds you his arms around you moving from your hips starting to thrust as his cock jumps his tip leaking hard inside your ass stretching you out as he nails your prostate making you roll your eyes back.

“That’s good dazai~ keep goin just like that~” you whine out as you bite on the bed sheets drooling going numb to the pleasure beneath the horny kitsune knowing he was always so erratic moving his hips so fast fucking you desperately.

Dazai keeps gripping you like a possession about to be ripped away as his kistune senses flair up in his head not thinking anything except “must breed” as he fucks you nibbling on the back of your neck as he lays on your back mounting you making your bed creak.

“Gonna make you so full~ carrying my litter tummy bloated please let me please~!” Dazai slips one hand off your hip gripping your ass cheek tightly rubbing circles pinching it making your rim stretch wide for his girth.

“your gonna cum aren’t you dazai?~” you moan out feeling his tip twitching and the stutter in his hips feeling yourself close as he nails your prostate making your own cock jump in arousal dripping your own pre cum on the not so pristine sheets.

“Mh hmm~ m gonna cu—“ before he can whine out the rest of his words he gasps gripping your skin tight drooling on the back of your neck shoving himself as deep inside you he can go as he hits your deepest parts cumming staining your insides white as it rubs against your prostate just right all the sensations building up pushing you over the edge to as your cock tip drips a few more beads of pre cum before cumming all over the bed sheets with thick white ropes spitting out messily making you gasp trembling with your hands balled up in the sheets arching your back.

“Y-yes dazai!~” you manage to muster out as you feel your body full your ass stuffed full of his cum making it bloat slightly from receiving your fill but that doesn’t stop dazai, he’s too far loopy and needy only being able to think about breeding you not accepting the fact your a human man nope! You just need more cum that’s all? And he’ll gladly supply you with it!

“Need be bred more~ “dazai purrs out his ears drooping low on his head as he lays on top of you still buried deep inside you mounting you as you lay beneath him still stuffed full while his hips stutter and start fucking you again whining his pupils all dilated gripping your hips bruising them as your ass clenched around him abused and overstimulated easily from being stretched open for so long.

“That’s it dazai~!” You groan dropping your head in the bed sheets as his tail wags rapidly and his hands tremble as ropes of his cum get pumped in and out of you coating his shaft as he fucks you harder pounding your prostate with his body filled with the desperation and the need to breed you to knock you up to give you a litter. Wanting to impregnate you with kits needing you to be the mommy for them despite you being a man.

His brain is clouded in a lust filled fog irrationally imagining you pregnant as he keeps pumping his hips already close to cumming again as he licks the back of your neck trying to coat you in his scent as your mouth goes agape your eyes rolled back blabbering incoherient moans.

“Close ~ “groaning out as your cock pulses hard again with your second orgasm crashing over you like a wave while he fucks you through it leaving your ears ringing as your load spills all over the messy sheets only further staining them with your load as the room is filled with sticky sounds and the squelching of your now wet ass pumped with cum as he twitches inside you when your walls tighten around him.

“Needa breed you more~” dazai rambles drunkenly in your ear gasping as sweat coats his thin body as he lays on top of you snapping his hips harder as his cock pulses Cumming for the second time as his hips stutter pressing as deep as he can trying to make sure not a drop of him is wasted.

“O oh ng~ more cum~” he purrs out drooling on the back of your neck with his fluffy ears laying flat on his head with his tail swaying behind him as he holds still in you with your stomach full swelling slightly as his cum oozes out around his cum obviously over filled but dazai can’t stop now! That’s only two load? You need more to get pregnant right? Well he’ll just have to keep going til your pregnant then!

[bluejeanstrash]

tags: boyfriend! seungcheol x reader, just a little light-hearted fluff of seungcheol being a dramatic whiny baby when he’s sick, mentions of dry scalp and skin picking lol, seungcheol is very whiny | wc: 742

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

a classic cough and cold combo paired with a side of fever-related aches and pains — that was the diagnosis, not the life-threatening illness seungcheol was sure he’d contracted. he’d tried convincing you it was fast-spreading. like really fast. like it has taken over his body and has been shutting down his organs one by one for the past 6 hours fast.

‘i’m going to die. it’s not a joke anymore. i seriously feel like i’m going to die’ he tugs at the hem of your t-shirt as you clear up the mountain of tissues on the left bedside table, and then tugs again while you’re clearing up a pile of dishes on the right.

you sigh, ignoring him, and disappear into the kitchen to reappear with a fresh bowl of hot chicken soup ‘seungcheol, we’ve been over this already. you’re not going to die’

‘forget it! just get me my will. i have to make some last-minute changes’ he asks for it dramatically, draping a limp arm over his eyes.

‘you don’t have a will’ you blow on the hot soup in quick bursts before feeding him a spoonful.

‘ugh, never mind. it’s fine’ the will talk is waved off with a quick fan of the hand to make way for what he says next ‘they give everything to the spouse anyway. wait, do they?’

‘i don’t know, and we’re not married’ you remind him, stirring the hot liquid so the shredded chicken, his favourite part, rises to the top.

‘god, you’re right’ he sits up a little straighter and grabs your free hand, suddenly somber ‘do you take choi seungcheol to be your lawf-’

you force-feed him another spoonful to shut him up, a bit of it spilling onto the quilted blanket. the soup must’ve still been too hot because he lets out a little cry, whining, though it’s entirely possible he’s overreacting.

‘you’re not taking this seriously, i’m actually dying’

‘you’re not’

‘what do you know! you’re not a doctor!’ he grumbles, taking a moment to tell you he really likes the soup and really really appreciates you making it for him before continuing to rant.

‘yeah, and what about the actual doctor we called who said you’re not?’

‘he doesn’t know anything either, that hack. the people on the internet’ he picks up his phone from the bed, showing you a screenshot from some site you’re pretty sure is for hypochondriacs to confirm each other’s delusions, and taps on the screen ‘have told me i have less than 24 hours left. 24. 24!’

‘seungcheol, i can’t have this conversation with you anymore. seriously. you need to go to sleep’ you put the empty bowl aside, straightening, and then pulling the blanket up to cover him.

‘no, no, don’t leave. i want lap time’ he pouts, baby-talking his way into his third one of the day. you sit back down on the bed with a sigh as he repositions himself to lay on your lap, wriggling his head around until he’s comfy. your fingers slowly comb through his hair, your nails scratching lightly against his scalp to soothe him. in a slightly gross but domestic act, you pick a few bits of flaky skin out of his unwashed hair, flicking them away. you should wash it for him later, you think. he’d like that.

seungcheol always found the sensation of you picking at his scalp strangely comforting, and surprisingly quite sleep-inducing. minutes pass without a single sound.

it’s quiet. finally. or so you think.

‘if i die, you can’t date anyone for the next 10 years. at least’

‘what?!’ you jerk your thighs up, pushing him off your lap ‘10 years? you’re crazy’

he can’t believe what he’s hearing.

‘i was just being nice. you shouldn’t date anyone ever, but ohmygod, i can’t believe you want to be with someone else’ he presses his fingers to his temples, suddenly coming down with a headache.

‘so let me get this straight’ he continues ‘you’re telling me when i die tomorrow-’

‘you won’t’

‘-when i die tomorrow, you’re going to bring some other man to my funeral?!’ his cheeks now hot with a shade of distressed pink.

you’re not sure where he’s got that from but you’ve had enough. you get up, grabbing the bowl, and look him straight in the eye, pinching his cute little cheeks ‘well, it’s a good thing you’re not dying then’

you walk out, leaving him right there on the bed, hot and most definitely cold.

[in-my-feels-probably]

Older Art spoiling his 20 something yo girlfriend that goes to Stanford. She looks up to him and listens to him and does whatever he says and basically lives for his praise.

I Feel So High School (Every Time I Look At You)

Request: Older Art spoiling his 20 something yo girlfriend that goes to Stanford. She looks up to him and listens to him and does whatever he says and basically lives for his praise.

and: art being 10ish years older than reader? that’s all i got. go crazy

Hi! Challengers has been on my mind literally since the day it came out, and I think I've read every single fic on here about it, so I figured I’d give it a shot writing one myself. First of all, I combined your requests, hope that’s ok. Second, this is my first time writing for Art, so please bear with me while I try and get the hang of writing his character. I haven’t written a fic in weeks, so my skills are definitely a little rusty. Please be kind! Anyways, I hope you like this. Let me know what you think, and thank you for the request :)

(Warnings: none? idk, maybe very vague mentions of sex, art is divorced, swearing, i guess the age gap taboo. let me know if i missed anything)

—

You should have known trying to explain your situation with Art to someone else would’ve been difficult, but finally telling your roommate everything was just as humiliating as you thought it would be. She always had a knack for nosing her way into your business, and not even you were immune to her federal level detective skills when it came to getting information out of someone. 

“And I’m seeing him today,” you finished your rant as you sucked in a breath, wincing as you waited for the bomb to drop.

But it didn’t. Your roommate just grinned, standing up and walking over to your closet. You watched with a confused look on your face until she turned to you, already elbow deep in your clothes.

“So…you have a sugar daddy?” your roommate asked, trying to stifle a laugh as she rifled through your closet to help you find an outfit. “No judgment, I’m honestly jealous.”

You picked a pillow up off your bed, launching it at her when she smirked as you flushed. “I don’t have a sugar daddy! I have a…well—ok, I don’t know what we are. But he’s not my sugar daddy.”

“No, he’s just an ex pro tennis player with a famous ex wife who was also a pro tennis player that he had a perfect little girl with, complete with a house in the Hamptons. Now, he’s…what, exactly? A coach? A commentator? Part of Stanford’s glorified alumni? No, I’ve got it! I know what he is — hot. In a beekeeping age, recently divorced, kind of way.”

You rolled your eyes, standing up to help her look through your closet. “He’s only in his thirties. You’re making him sound archaic and washed up.”

“Look at you, gushing over him,” she grinned as she finally landed on something for you to wear, quickly handing it to you. “At least he has good taste. You’re hot, too.”

Your roommate turned around while you quickly changed, sitting down at the foot of your bed. She talked over her shoulder as you got dressed, her voice full of curiosity.

“So, how did this all happen anyway?”

You sighed, shaking your head. “Remember alumni week with all the guest lectures and presentations a few months ago?”

“You met Art Donaldson during alumni week? What the fuck! Why didn’t you tell me? I wouldn’t have skipped all my classes that week if I thought I was gonna pick up a trophy husband instead of being forced to sit through a mind-numbingly boring presentation from some guy who used to go here that I’ve never heard of.”

“Sucks to suck, babe,” you grinned, finished getting dressed. “I’m good, you can turn around now.”

She quickly turned around, patting the spot on the bed next to her.

“How did this even happen? I’ve never seen you step foot on a tennis court in your life, and I know they wouldn’t have asked him to speak in a graduate lecture.”

You sat down next to her, nodding. “He did a seminar down at the courts for the kinesiology majors or something like that. They were learning about sports related injuries and how to treat them. He told them about how he hurt his shoulder a few years ago during a match, and he talked about all the physical therapy he had to do.”

“You’re telling me you sat through a kinesiology lecture? On a tennis court? When you don’t even study kinesiology?”

“Absolutely not,” you laughed, leaning back against the headboard. “He told me about it that first week while he was here.”

Your roommate giggled, grabbing your hand and squeezing it. “Oh my god! Okay, okay. Spill. Now. I want to know everything.”

You playfully rolled your eyes, but started ranting again anyway. 

—

In truth, you didn’t really know what your relationship with Art was. You’d met when returning alumni who’d gone on to excel in their fields came to campus for guest lectures and demonstrations.

In a total mortifying cliche, you ran into Art in a hallway while you were rushing to a lecture that had already started ten minutes earlier. You would have been on time, but your roommate accidentally locked herself out of your dorm, and the RA wasn’t answering their phone. She had an exam she needed to get to, which—in her own words—“trumps your boring book lecture.” You had no choice but to turn around and save her, making the trek back across campus to let her in. That’s how you ended up running face first into Art, your bag and all your things scattering across the floor. By some miracle, at least the halls were empty.

You quickly kneeled, scrambling to pick up all your things. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going. I’m late for class.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, kneeling to help you.

It was then when you looked up, and you felt your heart jump into your throat. Art Donaldson—famous alumni and world renowned tennis player—was crouched right in front of you, handing you half empty tubes of chapstick, a pair of headphones, and a stray pack of gum. Oh god, you thought to yourself. Why me? Why today? You quickly cleared your throat, standing up.

“God, sorry. Thanks…Mr. Donaldson.”

You cringed as you said it, the title of Mr. feeling off as it rolled off your tongue.

“Mr. Donaldson?” he raised a brow, shaking his head. “No, just call me Art. Uh, you know who I am? Am I actually still recognizable here? I figured no one off of the courts would have any idea who I was.”

You glanced down at his shirt, pointing. “You’re wearing a name tag.”

Art paled, raising a hand to awkwardly scratch at the back of his neck. Good one, he thought to himself. Very humble. He cringed to himself as his cheeks flushed, a small smile on his face.

“Right. I knew that.”

You smiled, pulling your bag back over your shoulder as you let out a little chuckle. “I know who you are. Stanford never lets us forget about their prized students.”

“Ah,” he nodded, grinning. “In my day, it was Reese Witherspoon and Jennifer Connelly. Although, Reese dropped out halfway through her degree, so they don’t talk about her much—”

“And Jennifer left Yale to come study here,” you finished. “That’s one they do still brag about.”

Art smiled, leaning back against the wall as he looked at you. You suddenly became very aware of your situation, tearing your eyes away from him to look down the hall where your class was. Art’s eyes followed, and he straightened up, clearing his throat.

“Am I keeping you?”

“No!” you said all too quickly, biting your tongue for a second before you forced yourself to calm down and continue. “Uh, my class already started. It’s not really important, he doesn’t count attendance anyway. And, to be honest, he’s pretty dull. He managed to make Jane Austen boring.”

“Not Bazin’s class, is it?” Art asked, making you raise a brow.

“Yeah, it is. How’d you know that?”

Art smiled, letting out a little laugh. “That’s why I came this way, I wanted to see if Professor Bazin still taught English here. He was a dinosaur even when I graduated. I’m surprised they still let him teach.”

“If they actually read the end of term course evaluations they make us fill out, they wouldn’t,” you mused, making Art grin wider.

“I guess I should let you go then,” Art shrugged, glancing down the hall. “Wouldn’t want you to miss out on something you could use in your scathing evaluation.”

You glanced back down the hallway at your classroom, but you couldn’t get your feet to move. You weren’t sure why, but you didn’t want to go just yet. 

All you did at Stanford was go to and from class and stay on top of your studies. It was monotonous and boring, and you were always up to your neck in papers and projects. Other than your roommate, you hardly had any people left you talked to or hung out with. They all graduated with their undergrad degrees, and you moved on to your graduate studies. Your education was important to you, but it got lonely. You almost never took risks anymore. But as you glanced back at him, that’s what you did.

You took the risk.

“Or…you could save me from my misery?” you stuttered out, an awkward smile on your face.

Art looked at you with an amused expression, tilting his head as he waited for you to continue. You swallowed, fiddling with the strap of your bag.

“My classes are almost all entirely in this building. I’m sure you’re sick of talking about tennis, but between here and my dorm, I don’t think I see enough sunlight in a day to keep me going. Maybe you could walk with me somewhere that actually sees the sun? Doesn’t have to be the courts or anything, although I can say with full confidence that I’ve never actually seen that part of campus and I’m in my graduate studies. Uh, maybe you’ve got somewhere in mind? Or you could let me buy you a cup of shitty cafeteria coffee? I promise I’ll refrain from asking you about your career. But, as I’m sure you can tell just by looking at me, I don’t really know enough about tennis to ask anyway.”

As you rambled on, horrified by your own rambling but determined to put yourself out there, Art smiled. 

He’d met a lot of girls over the years. Some girls who had a genuine interest in him but didn’t last, and some who saw his fame and fortune as a one way ticket to an easy life. 

None of them mattered. 

He had married Tashi, head over heels from the first moment he saw her. He had a kid with her, a career with her, a seemingly picture perfect life with her. It didn’t even occur to him to look at other girls until his marriage started to strain under the weight of his career, and he’d almost forgotten what it was like to look at a girl for the first time and feel that sickening but addictive feeling of butterflies fluttering around in his stomach. After the divorce, it felt so foreign to him that he didn’t even try. He had resigned himself to being a single father who co-parents and lives the rest of his life comfortably and quietly.

But here you were, rambling on with flushed cheeks and bright eyes trying your hardest to ask him out, and he couldn’t be more captivated.

There was just something about you. You were pretty, obviously. Anyone with eyes would’ve been able to see that. But there was something else, too. You were still young and not entirely pessimistic yet, with your whole career ahead of you. Probably no more than a few heartbreaks under your belt, able to muster up some sort of courage to fight for what you wanted. He used to have that, and he missed it — admired it, even. As you finally cut yourself off and looked up at him with mortification written across your face, Art saved you from further embarrassment with a smile. 

“Um…coffee sounds good,” he said with a shy smile. “Not from the cafeteria, though. If it’s as bad as it was when I went here, I’m not gonna let you waste your meal card money on it. There’s a cart outside of the athletics center, I stopped by it this morning. It’s still good.”

Trying your best to mask the shock you were feeling by his answer, you quickly nodded. “Oh, okay. Sounds good.”

You spent the entire afternoon with him. Coffee turned into lunch, and lunch turned into a long walk. Although you both had things to do, neither of you wanted to say goodbye and go on with your day. You skipped the rest of your classes for the day, letting Art show you around campus. He took you to all the places you had never been, and you kept quiet and let him show you anyway when you passed somewhere you had already been a hundred times. He was polite and asked you about your major and career goals, even managing a graceful smile when it was his turn to tell you about his career and how it unfolded after he graduated. He was careful to leave out the end, but he found himself comfortable enough to tell you about the first few years. You asked what you could, but you really didn’t know enough about the sport to ask much of anything.

“I’m boring you to death, aren’t I?” he asked when there was a lapse in silence after you passed a poster with his face on it for a Wimbledon campaign.

“No, not at all!” you replied, tilting your head up towards the poster. “I’m just wondering how you managed it.”

Art cocked a brow, turning towards you. “Managed what?”

“Not becoming a complete asshole,” you shrugged, making him burst out laughing. “I’m serious! You’re not the first celebrity to come here during alumni week. The difference between you and them is that you didn’t show up and immediately start bragging about how successful you had become. As far as I can tell, you’re the same as when you graduated. That seems pretty rare.”

“There’s not much to brag about,” he shrugged, too humble for his own good.

“A career Grand Slam isn’t worth bragging about?” you asked, turning away from him when he gave you a confused look. “Okay, fine, I may or may not have Googled you back in the restaurant while you were in the bathroom. I was running out of things to ask you, and I figured I should know something about tennis. Anyway, I was impressed.”

Art just chuckled. “I’m flattered.”

After walking a few more minutes, the street lamps turned on. It had gotten late enough in the evening that they were starting to light up around the darker parts of the campus. It was your cue to stop walking and look around, both of you realizing how long it had been since you started talking.

“I guess I should be headed back to my dorm,” you said, a hint of disappointment in your voice. “My roommate is probably freaking out by now. She knows I never really go anywhere after class without her—and yes, I heard how pathetic that sounded as it came out. She’s probably gonna call campus security if I don’t show up soon.”

Art nodded, knowing you were right. And yet, his feet didn’t move. Neither of you made any attempt to leave, still standing under the soft light of the street lamps. Art looked at you with soft eyes, absentmindedly reaching to fiddle with his wedding ring with his thumb before he remembered it wasn’t there anymore. Finally, he cleared his throat. 

“Well…I guess this is the part where I ask you for your number.”

“It was nice meeting you, too—” you started, doing a double take once his words registered. “Wait, what?”

Art let out a nervous laugh, shrugging. “You bought me a coffee, it’s only fair that I do the same. I’m here all week. Maybe you’d want to do this again sometime?”

“Uh, yeah! Yeah, that sounds good,” you replied, trying your best and failing to sound as nonchalant as you could.

Art smiled and pulled out his phone, opening his contacts. He handed it over to you, watching as you typed in your number before handing his phone back to him. You fought the heat pooling in your cheeks, fiddling with the strap of your bag. Art grinned, breaking the silence. 

“Go find your roommate. Tell her to call off the search party.”

You chuckled, nodding. “I’m on it. Well…bye, Art.”

“Bye, Y/N. I’ll text you,” he replied, enjoying watching you shuffle back and forth on your heels. 

He made you nervous. And for some reason, he liked that. He’d spent practically the last decade of his life perpetually nervous. It was nice to know someone else felt the same way. 

He watched you go as you turned around and headed back to your dorm, a distant but still familiar warmth in his chest. He’d only known you for a few hours, but he could already tell he liked you. By the time you made it back to your dorm and managed to come up with an excuse for your roommate who immediately interrogated you the second you stepped through the door, your phone was ringing. You excused yourself to the bathroom with a bashful grin on your face, answering the call.

—

You spent the better part of a week with Art when you both had time between your classes and his seminars. 

It felt surprisingly easy and normal talking to him. Your small talk about your careers and plans turned into more personal topics, and then you were talking about anything and everything. You were fully aware of the age gap between you two, but it didn’t bother you nearly as much as you thought it would. If anything, it was part of the draw to him. He was also kind and friendly, with a surprisingly self deprecating sense of humor that made you laugh. Not to mention the fact that he was drop dead gorgeous. You had to actively make sure he didn’t catch you staring at him when his head was turned. He made you want to actually giggle out loud, which is something you never thought you’d do over a guy.

By the end of the week when it was time for him to leave and go back to New York, you both were dreading saying goodbye. 

It was late in the evening, about an hour before he had to leave to catch his flight. He’d finally taken you to the courts, once again only lit by the street lamps overhead. It was the first time all week he’d stepped onto the court and actually wanted to be there, not surrounded by onlookers who knew every nook and cranny of his life and career. Instead it was you, the sweet pretty girl who made him genuinely laugh when you asked him why the points system would ever use the term love to describe a lacking score. 

He fiddled around for a while, teaching you a few serves and how to hold the racquet to hit the ball. Eventually he was on the other side of the net, watching you giggle and chase after the few balls he’d softly serve your way. He could hear you panting and the sound of your shoes skidding across the court, but your laughter was too sweet to make him stop. 

Finally, you stopped to take a break, sitting down on the bench. “Don’t look at me, I might cough up a lung.”

“Very impressive,” he smiled, passing you his water.

“Thank you,” you grinned, motioning between him in the court. “Go on, let’s see what you’ve got. I’m down for the count, but I’m sure the ball machine will be more than happy to fill in for me.”

Art smiled, watching you grin at him with flushed cheeks and glowy skin. If anyone else was asking, he wouldn’t have done it. He wasn’t interested in showing off his skills, or lack thereof to put it more accurately as of late — he’d stopped training as intensely after the divorce, no new tournaments waiting for him to come and win. But the look on your face when you asked was just one he couldn’t say no to. Plus, your knowledge of the sport wasn’t that vast. You probably wouldn’t notice if he slipped up anyway. And if you did, you’d be too kind to make him feel bad about it.

“If you insist,” he groaned, but he was still smiling to himself as he moved to the other side of the court.

You watched him play for a few more minutes. He really was something to see. Every movement he made was smooth and graceful, a far cry from the stumbling around and huffing and puffing you had been doing. Every ball hit its target, every serve lining up exactly where he wanted it to. As silly as it sounded, you actually had to prevent yourself from clapping once he finally slowed down and turned the machine off.

“Look at you go,” you smiled from the bench, handing him back his water as he walked back over.

His cheeks flushed pink, and he was silently praying you couldn’t see it from under the low lights. He was too busy getting all flustered to reply to you, and it made you smile. It was silent for a long moment as you stared at each other, before he finally stood up. You followed him, a sinking feeling in your gut as you realized that it was probably time to say goodbye.

It had been a week you had never even dreamed would’ve happened to you, and yet it did. The one risk you decided to take had led to the most fun you’d had in your entire time at Stanford. You didn’t want to see him go.

As you looked up at him with soft eyes and a melancholy look on your face, like you were looking to him for all the answers, Art felt a sharp tug in his chest. He found himself immediately wanting to fix it, wanting to make you smile again — smile because of him. He’d have done anything in that moment to get you to laugh again.

So, against his better judgment, he leaned in and kissed you. 

It was a spur of the moment decision, one he almost immediately regretted. But then he felt you sink into the kiss, your hands coming up to his waist to steady yourself. He cupped your cheeks and pulled you into him, unable to stop the smile spreading across his lips. 

And that was all it took — he was falling, and falling hard. 

—

That was months ago now, and yet, Art still found reasons to visit you. 

When there was lapses in tours, or it was Tashi’s week with Lily, he always somehow found himself ending up coming right back to you. He’d pick you up from your dorm, and you’d spend the entire day with him. On weekends, you ended up in whatever hotel he was staying at, telling your roommate you were going back home for a few days. When you weren’t together, you were constantly texting or calling. He even sent a postcard once when the ATP took him to Europe. It was cheesy, but you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face all day when you got it in the mail. 

You hadn’t exactly put a label on the relationship, but it was clear to the both of you that you meant more to each other than either of you cared to admit out loud. Quite a bit more, actually.

And Art wasn’t stupid — he knew what your relationship looked like. 

Recently divorced, a younger woman by his side. If they knew, the media would paint him as one of two options: an easily manipulated victim of a gold digger, or a washed up athlete who split with his wife that was now taking what he could get, the younger and prettier the better. 

But that wasn’t it at all for Art.

It wasn’t just sex, or a new pretty face. You were something different. A breath of fresh air. Someone who didn’t care about his career or money or fame. You had no interest in what he could offer you, or what you could get out of him. You never made him feel pressured to do anything or talk about anything he didn’t want to. He’d spent so many years craving a sense of normalcy and peace. Time and time again, he’d wanted to go to Tashi and beg for a break in his routine. But, always too afraid to disappoint her and everyone else watching him, he stayed quiet. He never got a break. As odd as it was to say, that’s what you were to him when he met you — a break. A minute to breathe, a moment to relax. He always felt that way around you.

Simply put, he was head over heels for you. He didn’t think he’d feel like that for another woman after Tashi until he met you, and it shocked him how easily the feeling came to him.

And it wasn’t just him that had fallen. 

You practically hung on every word he said, and soaked up every ounce of praise he gave you. You had never been with someone like him before. Someone so experienced and sure of himself, but just as gentle and patient as he was sure. He made you laugh and smile, and he made you feel safe. For whatever reason he had taken interest in you, you didn’t care, you just didn’t want it to stop. You clung to it, enjoying it while it lasted.

And if either of you had anything to say about it, it would last.

—

By the time you finished explaining your relationship with Art to your roommate, she was already pushing you out the door. 

“Go, go, go,” she squealed, tossing you your keys. “Wait!”

She wrapped her hand around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks as she glanced down at the outfit she chose. “Is that a new dress? Did he buy you a dress? Oh my god, please tell me he has a brother.”

“Not sure,” you grinned, smoothing your hand down your front. “Show up to alumni week next time and find out.”

You were already pressing a kiss to her cheek and rushing down the hall before she could get out another word, giggling as you made your way to the stairs.

On the drive over to the hotel, the nerves in your stomach were making you nervously tap your fingers on the steering wheel. You must’ve got caught by every stop light, making the trip even longer. You were practically vibrating once you finally pulled into the parking lot, grabbing your bag and hurrying inside before your nerves got the better of you and made you stand like an idiot in the lobby, trying to muster up the courage to get in the elevator. You coasted on autopilot as you forced your feet to lead you upstairs to his floor, all the way down to his door. You only came back into your body when you raised a hand to knock on the door, pausing to take a deep breath.

Just knock, you thought to yourself. You’re a big girl. Just knock.

You had barely even knocked twice on the door before the door swung open, and you came face to face with Art. Your breath hitched in your throat, and you took a second to take him in. Still as pretty as you remembered, and every bit as alluring. You could feel yourself melting. 

The feeling was mutual. 

Art let out a sigh of relief, like it was the first good breath he had taken in weeks. A genuine smile crept onto his face as he reached for you, practically making grabby hands like a child. 

“Come here, pretty girl.”

You tried and failed to stifle a giggle, immediately burying yourself in his chest. You let out a hmph as you pressed your cheek against him, your arms wrapping tightly around his waist. You could feel his thumb running along the bare skin of your arm, his lips pressing a kiss to the top of your head. He nudged the door closed with his foot, tugging your bag from your shoulder and setting it on the floor without even letting you go. He was warm to the touch, and steady against you. He hummed into your hair, squeezing you tighter.

“There she is,” he murmured, letting out a small laugh. “My girl.”

“Hi, baby,” you giggled, the sound making his heart soar in his chest. 

He slowly walked you backwards to the bed, supporting most of your weight as you laid down. He was quick to follow, burying his face into the crook of your shoulder. His arms hooked lazily around your waist, his weight pressing you into the mattress.

This is what you both had been waiting for. This feeling, this moment. Just this.

“You look very pretty today,” he whispered into your skin, pressing a kiss where his lips rested. “All this for me?”

The humor in his voice made you grin, your fingers running through his hair. “Couldn’t let you be that pretty all by yourself.”

Art smiled, pressing his face further into your neck as he let out a breath. You tightened your grip around him, holding him close. You let your eyes close, resting your cheek against the top of his head. 

A comfortable silence fell over the both of you, as easy as it ever was.

—

A/N - Hi! So sorry this took so long to get out, thank you for your patience. I keep rereading this and editing it over and over, I’m not totally happy with it. But something is better than nothing, and I’m tired of staring at, so here you go! Hope this is ok, let me know what you think :)

[supernovafics]

With your I’ll be there for you series would you be interested in writing about Steve discovering that he has feelings for reader? I think it would be sweet for him to just find even the silliest things she does cute and then him having a little melt down because he realised he’s liked her along. The series is such a great idea! 💭

𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆

"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist

pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 4.4k words

warnings: explicit language, alcohol consumption, drunk!steve, mentions of steve's dad being shitty, angst

summary: in which steve’s drunk and you don’t hesitate to cancel a date to take care of him

author's note: thanks for the request! probably from the moment i started this series/universe i knew that i wanted to have steve realize his feelings first so this request was quite literally perfect for that lol. this is slightly “while you were sleeping” by laufey inspired hence the title. the slow burn is finally starting to come to an end !! (i’m both happy and sad about that lmao) anyways enjoy<3333

general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Winter 1986

You were in the middle of debating between a black skirt and a brown plaid one that Robin convinced you to buy when you two went thrifting just a few days ago when the phone rang.

Leaving both options on your bed, you went to the kitchen to answer it, bottomless aside from the stockings you had already put on because of the cold late February weather. 

“Hello?” 

“Hello?”

“Steve?” You recognized his voice for the most part, but he sounded a little different. A little far away, like he was calling from the oldest phone in the universe.

“Oh, hey.” The way he said the simple two words both confused and amused you because it sounded as if he didn’t expect you to be the person on the other end of the line. 

You laughed a bit. “‘Oh, hey’? Don’t sound so disappointed. You called me.”

“I know. Sorry. I meant to call Eddie,” He said, and it was then that you heard what should’ve been obvious from the moment he said “Hello” to you— the way his words weren’t necessarily slurry, just slower than usual. 

He was drunk, and you now recognized the voice that you had become so used to hearing since Steve’s sixteenth birthday when he snuck his dad’s whiskey and you both only had two shots of it before feeling it fully. 

“Why would you call him? Aren’t you two together right now?” You asked, your confusion taking precedence over the amusement you felt in this moment. 

Earlier that day, before you left the apartment to head to your twelve o’clock class, he told you that he was going to tag along with Robin, Vickie, and Eddie to some art show thing after his shift that night at Family Video; you would’ve gone too if you didn’t already have plans for the night. 

“Also, I didn’t know that you could get drunk at an art show,” You added. “I’ll definitely make sure to go next time.” 

“I didn’t go with them,” He told you, and before you could ask where he was, he answered the unspoken question. “I’m actually at a bar right now.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed. “What? Why?” 

“Very long story. Dad shit. What else is new, right?” Steve answered with a breath of a laugh. 

He made his words sound lighthearted and as if whatever happened didn’t really affect him, but you, of course, didn’t see it that way. Without even being with Steve right then, standing in front of him and reading his facial expressions, you still saw through what he was trying to play off as “no big deal.” You’d known him more than long enough to know that anything involving his dad was usually always serious. And whatever shitty things his dad said to him this time around drove Steve to a bar rather than back here to the apartment to frustratingly rant to you, and that only worried you. 

“Which bar are you at?” You asked softly. 

“The only place in town, other than The Hideout, that doesn’t card,” He said and then immediately continued. “But, wait, don’t come here, though. I don’t want you to come get me. That’s why I was trying to call Eddie. I know you have your date tonight.”

Just for a second— actually, probably the entire time you’d been talking to Steve— you’d forgotten about the date, forgotten about the reason why you’d just been debating which skirt to wear, forgotten about what you were supposed to leave for in twenty minutes. And that slightly surprised you because, for the last couple of days, you’d been really excited about it. 

Meeting Jamie felt like a sort of “meet cute” moment that was straight out of a romcom, one that you probably would’ve laughed at because of how cheesy it was. You bumped into him in the hallway on the floor of your apartment. He was your neighbor’s, Miss Johnson’s, nephew, and you learned that even though he went to a college about an hour away, he was trying to visit her more often. He had been in the middle of leaving when you saw him, and you gave a friendly wave and smile at first and he started a conversation with you. You two then spent an hour talking in the hallway before you headed inside your apartment to start studying for a test and he asked for your number, which led to more long conversations over the next few days until he asked you on a date. 

In a way, it startled you how giddy you found yourself feeling about him after only those few days, how easily and quickly you liked him. It was the first crush that you had in a while that didn’t feel completely hopeless. 

But now all of that was the last thing on your mind. It quickly became pushed to the side because you knew that your best friend needed you.

You shook your head in this moment even though Steve couldn’t see you. “No, it’s okay, I’ll come.” 

“No, don’t, don’t. I’ll just call Eddie.”

He’s probably not home right now, was what you wanted to tell Steve, but you refrained from doing so at that moment. Instead, you said, “I’ll call him for you.”

The drunken sigh in relief Steve let out was immediate. “Okay, thanks, I don’t think I have any more change for this payphone, anyway.”

“Okay, just stay put and stop drinking.”

“The bartender already cut me off.”

“Good,” You said before saying a final goodbye to him and hanging up. 

You then picked the phone up again to dial a different number. You, of course, didn’t attempt to call Eddie and you instead called Jamie. He was completely understanding when you told him that you had to cancel the date because of an emergency, and he said that you two could do the dinner and movie on a different night, which you quickly agreed on. 

You put on the brown plaid skirt— quickly deciding that it looked better with the white top you were wearing, anyway— before slipping on a pair of shoes and grabbing your coat, shoving your car keys and wallet into the pockets, and then leaving the apartment. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The drive to Webster’s took less than fifteen minutes and the current emptiness of it didn’t surprise you that much. From the handful of times that you’d gone to the place with Steve, Eddie, and Robin, it became a known fact that things didn’t become “lively” until after ten, and it was currently only a little after nine. 

You spotted Steve sitting on a stool at the counter, head down in his folded arms. You sat in the empty seat next to him and tapped the side of his shoulder until he sat up and looked at you. 

“Glad to know you’re alive, Harrington.” 

He smiled at you and you gave him a small smile back, he must have forgotten that he’d told you not to come to the bar. 

“I feel barely alive, actually.”

“Still counts.” 

Steve only looked at you for a moment, taking notice of what you were wearing beneath your unzipped coat. 

“You look nice,” He said and then seemed to realize something and his smile dropped. “Wait, shit, your date. You shouldn’t be here right now.”

“It’s fine. We’re just gonna reschedule it.” 

“I’m sorry.”

You shook your head at him. “No, don’t be. It’s just a first date, anyway. Your drunk ass needing a ride home is obviously more important than that.” 

Steve laughed a bit. “I guess I’ll take that as a compliment?” 

“Yes, you should,” You told him and then watched with furrowed brows as he went to grab the short glass that was in front of him, half full of some dark liquor. He was about to finish what was left in the glass, but you grabbed it from him before he could. “Steve.”

“I still had this from before I called you. I can’t finish it?”

“No, because if you end up throwing up in my car on the drive home, I will have to murder you.”

You looked away from him before he could say anything in response to that and waved at Barry, the usual bartender that you became on a first name basis with after your third time going to Webster’s. Since it was the farthest thing from busy right then, he immediately walked over to you two. 

“Hey, Barry, can he have some water?”

He nodded and filled up a glass, sliding it over to Steve and then looking at you. “Glad to see you here. He’s looked like a sad little lost puppy for the past hour.”

Steve stopped mid-sip to scoff. “That’s very not true.”

“Sorry, but I think I have to believe the only other sober person here,” You said and only smiled at the second annoyed scoff he let out, which was hard to take seriously because of his current drunkenness. 

Barry got called over by a group of people that just walked in and you silently watched Steve take a few sips from his glass. When he set it down, you lightly nudged his knee with yours. “Do you wanna talk about what happened with your dad?” 

Steve simply sighed at first. “He came to Family Video today and went on this huge rant about me and what I’m doing with my life. He thinks my job is shit, and even me going to school part-time isn’t enough. He thinks I’m such a loser in comparison to his friend’s kids who are actually “doing things with their lives.””

You frowned and shook your head. “Fuck him.”   

“Cheers to that,” Steve said with a small laugh and held up his glass of water for a second. “He also said that he wants to set me up with this job at his friend’s insurance company, and I immediately said no to that. I’m still not entirely sure what I wanna do yet, but I know it’s not that— some stupid fucking desk job. Especially not one that’s just given to me by my dad.” 

“He’s an idiot,” You told Steve. “And also his bullshit is not at all worth the hangover you’ll have in the morning.” 

“You might be right about that,” He responded, eyes fixed on his now half-empty glass of water and a small amused smile on his face. “But, it felt good for a second.” 

You poked his arm so that he would look at you. “You could’ve talked to me about all of that instead of coming here.” 

“I didn’t wanna mess up your date by coming home and talking to you about all of this sad shit. I knew that you’d just worry about me and probably not go,” He mumbled. “And I feel like a dumbass for still messing it up.”

“It’s okay. Seriously. Honestly,” You told him and then playfully smiled as you said your next words. “And you know that I would tell you if it wasn’t okay. I’d definitely hold this over you for at least a week, and force you to clean out Harold’s cage and do my laundry that’s been building up for the past week and a half. But you’re drunk and sad, and I’m way too nice to make you do any of those things.” 

He laughed at that, which made you smile wider. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome,” You said before you stood up from the stool you’d been sitting in. “Now, come on, let’s get out of here before it starts getting crowded. Can you walk okay?” 

Steve only nodded in response, which was a nonverbal answer that you weren��t sure if you completely trusted, so you stood close to him as he also got up and pulled some cash out of his back pocket and placed it on the counter. 

He then waved at Barry, and you were certain that he probably didn’t mean for it to be so animated and comical, but it very much looked that way. “Goodnight, Barry.”

The bartender laughed a bit when he looked over at you and Steve. “‘Night, guys.” 

Steve started heading toward the door first and you followed just a few steps behind him. When he stumbled a bit before even making it out of the door, you grabbed his hand and moved closer to him so that he could drape his arm around your shoulders, and then one of yours circled around his waist. 

Leading him to your car was a feat in itself, but once he was settled in the passenger seat and you started driving, he rolled his window down completely and had it like that during the entire ride even though it was freezing cold outside, and that was worse than dealing with his stumbling.

When you made it to the apartment building, his balance was actually a bit more coherent so you didn’t need to do more than just hold his hand during the entire walk to the elevators and then down the hallway to the apartment.

You dragged him to your room and he sighed in contentment when he sat down on the side of your bed; he always liked your mattress better than his own for some reason. 

“Wait, don’t fall asleep yet,” You told him before heading over to his room and grabbing a random t-shirt and basketball shorts from one of his drawers. “Here, put this on. I know you’d be mad at me if I let you fall asleep in those jeans.” 

“Thanks,” He mumbled with a yawn as you handed the clothes over to him, and then you went to the kitchen as he started changing. 

You filled a mug with water and then pulled open the drawer that had the bottle of aspirin in it. Neither you nor Steve were really sure why it lived there instead of in one of your bathrooms, where it probably should’ve been, but you two also didn’t make any effort to move it.  

Steve was already asleep and under the covers when you walked back into your room, and you placed the mug and aspirin on the nightstand on his side. You changed into your own pajamas for the night, which simply consisted of an old baggy t-shirt and shorts, before settling in on your side of the bed. 

It was still pretty early for a Friday night, barely even ten o’clock, but you didn’t mind going to bed because you were actually a little tired. Steve was turned and facing away from you, but you still watched him and his even breathing for a bit, making sure he was okay before you quickly drifted off to sleep yourself. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Steve didn’t know what time it was when he woke up, but he could tell that it was pretty early because he could see the just sun starting to rise. 

The other things he quickly noticed were that he was in your bed and he had a pounding headache, which was a little confusing at first, but then all of what happened last night started coming back to him. 

The shit with his dad, the bar, the accidental phone call to you, and then you coming to the bar and bringing him home— he remembered it all. 

With a soft groan, Steve slowly sat up in bed, doing his best not to wake you, and then reached over to grab the water and aspirin you left out for him. 

He took the medicine and drank most of the water and then laid back down, turning on his side to face you. Your head was against the pillow and even breaths fell from your slightly parted lips. You looked so peaceful like this, he decided, so pretty.  

Steve thought about you and Jamie, and how happy you had been when you talked about him. Steve also knew how excited you’d been about the date, and even though you had told him that it was okay that you had to cancel it last night, he still felt a little bad about it all. 

He knew that you would probably do anything for him, and that was completely mutual. If the roles had been reversed last night, Steve wouldn’t have thought twice about canceling a date to go pick you up from some dumb bar. And making those sorts of sacrifices for one another never felt like a question, it just always felt like the obvious thing to do. 

It didn’t completely make sense at first, but somehow it was that simple and crystal clear thought that managed to shift something deep down inside of him— it harshly drew the line between best friends and something more. And Steve quickly realized exactly which side he lay on.

Which was confusing because the lines of where your friendship began and ended had always felt so unquestionable— you and him were best friends; nothing more, nothing less. 

But it was different now, it changed, and it was this moment that told him that it actually had been that way for a while; probably since you two moved into the apartment. 

Starting from that day in August your lives became even more intertwined with one another— which didn’t feel entirely possible because of how close you’d been for so long— but it was true. He hadn’t realized how blurry the lines had been getting since then. 

Since you two started beginning your days and ending them in the same home. Since so many nights became spent in each other’s beds; nothing more happening than sleeping and late night talking, but still. Since you two got Harold only a few weeks into living in the apartment, and you both immediately fell into your unserious parental roles in the hamster’s life. Since an unspoken early morning weekend routine fell into place where Steve would make coffee and toast and you’d do the eggs and bacon. Since you two became something equivalent to a married couple that had been together for at least twenty years. 

And then Steve realized that actually maybe this something more had always been there— maybe it had always been so fucking obvious. 

He thought back to the end of Senior year when you two went to each other’s proms and slow danced at the end of the night because you both thought it would be funny, but those moments actually turned into something really sweet and wholesome; and you’d both think back on it during the most randomest of times. 

And then he also thought about smaller things, the parts of your personality that made him feel so goddamn lucky to know you. How you always fiddled with the radio and never settled on a station for longer than a few minutes during perhaps any car ride where Steve was the one driving; something that you’d been doing since the day he got his driver's license and you two went on your first solo car ride together. How pretty much anything you did would only make him smile and playfully roll his eyes or make fun of you. 

Steve wasn’t entirely sure why he was having this sort of “epiphany moment” right here, right now, in your bed as he looked at you peacefully sleeping next to him. 

It, of course, stemmed from you canceling something that he had known you’d been looking forward to for the last couple of days to instead take care of him, he could recognize that. But, what made that so different from everything else you’d done for each other over the years? 

He immediately thought that maybe there was no one straight answer to that question because it wasn’t about what was different. Instead, it was about all of those other moments too. They had slowly built upon each other until it came to this one on this February morning— nine years into your friendship and six and a half months into you two living together— and Steve could finally recognize what it all had meant, and he was ready to accept the truth for what it was too. 

He liked you. More than liked, actually. He loved you, he was in love with you. 

But, you were also his best friend, the most important person in his life, and he didn’t want to be the reason that that ever got messed up. And that thought was what made him finally look away from you and mutter out a soft, “Fuck.”

Steve quickly got out of the bed, and he was surprised, but also completely grateful, that his quick and hasty movements didn’t manage to stir you awake. 

He left your room and went to the kitchen. It was early and he probably should’ve been trying to get a few more hours of sleep, but he wasn’t tired anymore. 

The realization was the only thing on his mind— in a matter of seconds, it managed to completely consume it. 

Everything else that had been happening the past few months finally made complete sense; Steve saw it all in a different way. He now understood why he couldn’t picture any sort of future with Vanessa when he went out with her a few times back in December even though he really did like her, and why he couldn’t see anything with anyone he went out with. Because deep down, he knew that he could only see that with you. It made sense why his dating life had been in such a rut lately and why he didn’t particularly mind it all that much.

When you two would jokingly say that you both were completely okay with ending up “alone together forever,” he realized now that from his side of things, deep down, it had never been a joke. And he wondered if it was the same way for you. 

In an ideal world, the answer would be yes. But, things only felt confusing, and if he was being a thousand percent honest with himself, he didn’t know if that answer was yes in this world.

Steve knew that you really liked Jamie, even in such a short amount of time, so that couldn’t mean that you had any sort of feelings for him. Right? Or maybe you just hadn’t had your own “epiphany moment” yet? Should he tell you about his? Should he tell you about any of what just hit him in the past ten minutes? 

His brain felt as if it was going to fucking explode with all of the questions circling his mind right then, and the coffee he was making failed to distract his thoughts from everything. 

He came to the quick decision that he wouldn’t tell you what he was feeling; it would just be easier that way. There wouldn’t be any way for him to potentially fuck things up between you two if he simply ignored what he was feeling. It was easy to imagine how drastically your friendship would change if he told you everything and you didn’t feel the same. Therefore, he could push it all away to make sure that nothing changed for the worse.

When the coffee was done, he poured some into a fresh mug and took a long sip. Any other time, he couldn’t really stand straight black coffee, but the bitterness tasted good for once; he decided to focus on that instead of anything else. 

Steve wasn’t sure how long he had been leaning back against the counter and sipping from his mug before you came out of your room. It could’ve been one minute or ten; right then, time felt as if it was moving both slow and fast. 

“Hey,” You said, giving him a small smile and rubbing the tiredness out of your eyes. “I’m surprised you’re up already. I definitely expected you to be passed out until at least ten.” 

It felt equivalent to a light switch flipping how quickly Steve felt affected by your smile and simply you in that moment. He’d probably seen you like this a million times before— just waking up and still in your now wrinkled pajamas from the night— but it felt entirely different now. And that was when he knew how fucked he was. 

“Yeah, I, uh, I woke up and couldn’t, um, go back to sleep… So, yeah, just came out here. Made some, um, coffee,” He ultimately responded and then inwardly sighed at how flustered he was right then. He let out a quick laugh. “Sorry, blame the hangover for my inability to say sentences right now.” 

If that was how he was going to act around you from now on, he knew that trying to keep this a secret was probably the most unrealistic idea ever. 

You laughed a bit and nodded, seemingly unfazed by his awkwardness right then, and opened up the fridge. “You think you can stomach eggs and bacon?” 

“Yes to the bacon, but I think I should play it safe and say no to the eggs.” 

“Makes sense,” You said, closing the fridge after grabbing the bacon. You placed the pack on the counter near the stove and then looked at Steve. “You feeling better about all of that dad shit?”

It was almost comical how even though it had been the reason for everything that happened last night, the conversation he had with his dad was the farthest thing from his mind now. 

“I’m good, actually.” 

“Good,” You said, smiling at him and then reaching out to grab his hand and give it a light reassuring squeeze; which, unknown to you, made his heart feel as if it was going to somersault out of his chest. “Remember, the next time this happens, come to me and we both can get drunk here for free. Or we can just run away and join the circus, or whatever it was we agreed on when we were twelve.” 

Steve only nodded and gave you a small smile in response because it felt as if that was all he could do at that moment. If he attempted to say anything, he felt like his words would’ve started or ended with, “I’m in love with you.” 

He changed his decision then. He knew that he had to tell you everything because it wouldn’t be easy to simply bury it down and ignore it. There was no way that he’d be able to keep this from you, at least not for a long time, it was already swallowing him whole. And although he had no idea when or how he would tell you the truth, he made a quick promise to himself that he would do it. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)

[myslutwritings]

Hi, i was wondering how the uppermoons react to the reader aka the love of their life crying herself to sleep after a huge argument, like they walk into their shared bedroom to find the reader laying on the bed with tear stained cheeks flushed face mouth slightly open, i know i know it's way too angst-y but i love being comforted when i cry and i am a cry baby so... Pretty please🥺

wowie😂 y’all seem to dig the crybaby reader headcanons so here’s some angst my lovelies!!

➤ Uppermoons comforting reader after an argument.

pairing/featuring: crybaby!reader x the three uppermoons! content warning: lots of angst, douma has emotions, OOC!uppermoons, semi-nsfw, smaller reader, size difference, crybaby!reader.

— note: sorry if this comes off as cheesy! this is pure fluff headcanons for those who are sad and find comfort in our three lovely demons! so i wanted to go all out😅 so the uppermoons aren’t going to be THAT in character. [not proof read btw]

KOKUSHIBO <3

Kokushibo (the uppermoon one) and you got into one extremely heated and serious argument that day..

Is argument even the right word at this rate? more like a fight.

Like so bad you guys were screaming at each other the same way toxic parents who weren’t ever in love would fight. 🥲

The fight was so severe to the point where kokushibo just upped and left you alone for hours. He didn’t desire to fight that night and was exhausted from your constant screaming.

However..

Returns later that night to apologize since the fight was his fault only to find you crying in y’all’s shared bedroom..

Gods.. what has he done?!

Okay now he feels even worse. this is going to be troublesome considering he already has a hard time being intimate and expressing his feelings.

After all, koku here is very avoidant. but he’s not trying to be.

You immediately stop crying once you feel his presence. How long has he been standing there?

you want to tell to go away

you want to tell him you hate him (you don’t)

you want to say you love him

you want to say so many things

But nothing comes out.. you just can’t speak properly due to the utter anguish you’re in over the fight..

you’ve always been the biggest crybaby, a sensitive soul.

Kokushibo has always reassured you that he loved that about you. as if you’re the purest and most beautiful flower. an angel sent from the gods themselves.

Finally, you muster up the courage to speak

But right before you blurt out anything Kokushibo gathers you up on his arms and cradles you on his lap.

The gesture makes you eyes water more and you just end up sobbing into his shoulder muttering: “i’m sorry” over and over again.

some phrases you’ll hear from Kokushibo while crying are;

“i’m deeply sorry, my love. my intention was to never make you shed this many tears. That’s the last thing i want to do..”

“Please, no more tears, my dearest petal. I can’t stand witnessing you in such a state of misery. I’m so sorry for leaving you alone.. it’s my fault and i should’ve tried to communicate with you instead of leaving you alone like that.. you’re my one and only and i’ll never do something this foolish ever again.”

Koku isn’t the very best at communication nor is he the talking type but when it comes to you he’ll go out of his way to talk to you all night long until you feel better! <3

The both of you end up cuddling all night.

He plays with your soft hair and keeps an eye on you as you rest.

Even if you fall sleep he still won’t leave. He’s going to hold you in his protective embrace while you sleep me until you wake.

DOUMA <3

Oh my! his poor sweet lotus crying to themselves after an argument? now, this won’t stand..

Now let’s skip the part where he feels emotions for you.

Anyway-

Douma is not really an argumentative kind of guy..

i mean, sure, he’ll joke around with lord-akaza but that’s all for great fun! :D

And lets not forget the numerous times muzan has chastised him or when he had to listen to his long-rants about how worthless he and his superiors are for not being able to seek out the blue spider lily.

So, when you two break out into an argument.. he doesn’t yell back. he kinda disregards your feelings and accuses you of being silly and just teases you for it.

I mean, you are being over-dramatic, right?

Honestly, he’s not used to it when you yell and break down afterwards..

Douma’s never seen you so upset before! :(

Okay, he may know how to ‘comfort’ people but we all know that’s a façade.

Deadass doesn’t know what to do. it’s different because with you he actually cares (more than you know.)

Is torn between giving you space and just forcing you into his embrace and babying you until you stop crying like how he does with his disciples.

Douma is clingy. he’s always been very clingy and touchy. this rainbow-eyed man is glued to you 24/7. 🥹

As predicted, his clingyness gets the better of him and he follows you like a lost puppy once you runaway in tears.

He didn’t mean for this to happen nor to make you so upset.

You’re crying on your futon and he stands there for a good second witnessing you in distress. he’s still feeling hesitant.

He isn’t used to these emotions bubbling up into his gut right now.. and doesn’t like it one bit! he needs it to vanish as fast as possible.

Douma ignores your protests while he gathers you up into his strong arms and lays you across his lap bridal-style.

Kisses your tears away and gives you love bites since he has a habit of doing that. usually it makes you giggle when he does that but this time you only recoil from his touch.

“Aw, don’t pull away from me!”

**cue the pouting**

Douma will legitimately comfort you this time instead of putting on that act he does with his followers.

Some phrases you’ll hear from douma are:

“Hush now, my darling! it’ll be okay! i- i didn’t mean to upset you, honest! i can’t let you go.. i can’t leave you alone when you’re crying like this..”

“Hey, hey! shh.. it’s okay sweetie! i’m here for you! let’s wipe those tears off your pretty face, hm? oh, you’re beautiful no matter what even if you’re crying but i would much rather you smile for me! can you do that for me, dear?~”

“I love you so much, [name]! I promise i didn’t mean to make you upset.. it won’t happen again! please just try to communicate with me more so we won’t fight like this again!Of course i’ll do the same in return.. these emotions i felt today were something i never want to experience gain!”

Much like kokushibo. Douma isn’t the best communicator either.

Sure, the man may be a yapping machine but it takes him a hot minute to realize his wrong-doings and talk it out with you!

By the way he’ll probably tease you after this night so be prepared.

Probably would initiate sex to make you relax since you’re so damn tense but will understand if you decline. 

AKAZA <3

Good lord, he’s the MOST emotional and sympathetic out of everyone.

Akaza tends to yell a lot, he suffers from anger issues and can be passive aggressive so it’s quite easy to get him riled up.

This fight in particular was worse than usual.

Like wayyyy worse.

Akaza actually hates, hates, HATES, HATES, fighting with you.

So he’s on the verge of tears himself and angry with himself for being so weak to argue with you back instead of being the bigger and stronger person in this situation.

More importantly, he made you cry, he’s most disappointed in himself for that.

Akaza isn’t too clingy, on very rare occasions he is though.

Akaza has attachmemt issues but doesn’t show it that often (that’s my headcanon for him)

So bro’s attachment issues are literally SPIRALING in this moment.

Calls out for you when you runaway but you don’t turn back and that’s what he knows he’s fucked up.

Will do ANYTHING to make you forgive him and to stop crying.

Wants to respect you but he knows he’ll go apeshit if he leaves you alone so he takes a hot minute before running after you.

He’ll knock on your door. f you don’t answer he’ll just waltz right in like he owns the place.

Starts yapping as soon as the door swings open.

Poor thing, he’s flipping out. 😭

“Baby!! please don’t cry!! shit.. i’m sorry!”

You look at him

Is he.. tearing up?

You feel guilty for overwhelming him but you’re also still mad at him.. you can’t bring yourself to apply him with the reassurance and comfort he craves in that moment even though you want to..

Akaza will get more needy if you ignore him and crawl into bed with you to spoon you from behind. His hands swiftly snake around your waist and you feel your back flush against his bare chest as he buries his face into the crook of your neck.

He’s mumbling “i’m sorry, pretty girl..” under his shuddering breath.

He is NOT letting you go until morning.

Akaza will pepper feather-like kisses upon your neck from behind and squeeze your waist while whispering comforting words into your ear.

He’s really not letting you go until you forgive him. 😞

Phrases you’ll hear from Akaza after an argument:

“Come here, honey.. i’m really sorry. believe me, i didn’t mean anything i said. i was a damn idiot!”

“Sweetheart, i love you so so much it hurts.. you mean the fucking world to me! i would kill for you, i would even die for you.. you bring out this special part of me in which i feel like myself.. only YOU have the power to do that. i would never leave you or let anything bad happen to you, honest!”

He embraces you and will probably end up turning you around so you can face him.

he appreciates it when you look into his eyes when he’s talking to you about something important.

You making eye-contact with him sends him onto cloud nine 😩

Akaza just wants to see your pretty face! 💗💗

Even if you take your time forgiving Akaza he will understand and never love you any less.

[wonysugar]

close the door | hanni pham

synopsis : you had no idea what you were doing, and neither did she.

genre : fluffy smut!

pairing : non-idol!hanni x gf!femreader

tags : they’re in love your honor, lots of kissing and making out, cuddling, l-bombs, top!femreader, bottom!hanni, they’re both virgins, fingering, clit play, nipple play, neck kissing, hanni’s dogs are mentioned twice lawl, lots of comfort, lots of consent! they’re literally just lovey dovey girlfriends having sex for the first time aheheh

warnings : none :]

word count : 2.5k

a/n : if you’re rereading this and thinking “hey the synopsis changed and there wasn’t an author’s note before!!” well you’d be right I POSTED THIS IN A RUSH I’M SO SORRYYFKEJF

anyways!! this is just to say that this fic is inspired by the lovely writer that is sorry for tagging you twice ahh @facefullofsadness’s fic right over here :] sooo GO READ THAT FIRST! it’s truly lovely and i really enjoyed reading it, hence why i wrote thisskfke. thank you for readingg<33

oh how you loved your girlfriend.

you would die for your girlfriend, actually, even if you only started dating barely a few months ago. who could blame you? that’s what happens when you’ve been best friends prior to your relationship for so, so, so long. it simply started with a ‘hi! my name’s hanni! what’s yours?’ from her part at the innocent age of seven and just like that, years later, you guys were still inseparable. 

so really, your life-long friendship and months-long relationship were both with the same gorgeous and outgoing girl, and the only thing distinguishing those two was the label you used to describe them.

“bro i genuinely don’t understand why he doesn’t just… run away. cause— get this, there’s obviously a murderer in his house right? and what does he decide to do about that? just stay in there. like, okay.. like i’m aware they needed plot but lord, i don’t know at least make it somewhat realistic you know what i mean—“ was what your girlfriend said, on her bed as she sat down in between your legs and leaned her back against you, her head facing forward and resting on your shoulder.

you simply nodded along to her words as you played with her hair, trying your hardest to stay focused on the piece of media before you whilst also paying your utmost attention to her, despite her constant ranting and criticizing of the entire movie. you, having originally liked the film, were now conflicted about your opinion on it. it’s not like she was wrong, her very heavy criticism had to have come from somewhere, after all, but you couldn’t help but slightly appreciate the storyline. so, you weren’t really sure what you felt about it anymore.

one thing you were certain of, however, 

was that your girlfriend looked really good while passionately rambling. like, way too good. she had tied her dark hair into a high ponytail, it also looked wavy due to the rain that was pouring on you guys earlier, her messy bangs fell perfectly onto her forehead. and her smile? it always looked perfect. she always looked perfect. 

and since you apparently weren’t hiding your admiration well enough, she very quickly noticed it.

she giggled teasingly. her voice sweet like honey, her australian accent more prominent than usual, she spoke up, “hello?” before full-on laughing, “were you even listening to me?”

you could only kiss her, that seemed like the only appropriate response in the heat of the moment. she, of course, kissed back just as lovingly before pulling away moments after, a curious and confused look on her face. 

“no seriously, what is up with you?” she kept teasing, smiling stupidly as she kept her gaze lingering on yours for the following seconds, her eyes unconsciously drifting to your lips. “you look stupid.”

“and you look really pretty.” was what you whispered back to her, earning a shy smile and an exaggerated eye roll from her. immediately, you made your lips come into contact with hers again. it felt as if the world would stop spinning if you didn’t, like a slowly growing urge to keep touching her suddenly came over you and you needed to fill it.

“so.. so pretty.” you mumbled, so quietly that it was almost to yourself, before going back in. you allowed yourself to make the kiss deeper and slid her tongue across her soft lips as you demanded entrance. you could hear her let out slight noises, she clearly was not expecting you to do anything of the sorts, at least not right now. she was a tad bit confused, but let you in, who in their right mind would pass up the opportunity to kiss their girlfriend? immediately, your hands wrapped around her waist whilst you continued kissing her lovingly, your tongue roaming every part of her mouth.

it didn’t take long before your hands started naturally reaching under her top, caressing on her tummy and progressively going higher with each sound she let out.

you pulled away, slightly worried of going too far, “c-can.. can i continue, hanni?”

you were scared, terrified, even! despite knowing each other for years, you’d only been dating for a few months; those are two completely different things! it’s not like you see your completely platonic best friend’s naked body every tuesday. even then, despite dating, you still haven’t gotten that stage of the relationship. and on top of that,

the two of you were a proper pair of virgins. you had no idea what you were doing, and neither did she. you didn’t want to seem like an inexperienced loser to her, you wanted to take care of her and make her feel good. what if that didn’t happen? what if you made it awkward between the two of you?? it was nerve-racking.

as if barging into your mind and reading your thoughts, wanting to reassure you, she grabbed your hand in a gentle manner before nodding. then, she spoke up, “can you close the door?”

“there’s.. nobody home, though?”

she giggled, “oh i know, it’s just that i don’t want the dogs to potentially walk in on this.”

you groaned dramatically, laughing and insisting that you were too lazy to get up and that her dogs wouldn’t understand the situation if they even walked in. she, in response, just tapped your knee with a cheeky smile, encouraging you to stand up.

“come on y/n, close the door. think about milly and mia; think about their innocence!” she exaggerated.

after playfully hitting her arm and laughing along with her, you got up, proceeded to close and lock the door like she asked you to and eventually walked back to her bed, sitting back on it and positioning yourself the way you originally were, her back to you again. 

“happy?” you asked in a fake arrogant tone.

she hummed, radiant, “yes, very happy.” before turning her head just right and kissing you again.

eventually back to the original rhythm of the kiss, you placed your hands back on her stomach again, slowly caressing and teasing higher and higher with time. once you reached her bra, you proceeded to impatiently unhook it, immediately taking it off of her.

her breathing got heavier with each second that passed, partially due to nervousness, probably. you’d be lying if you said that wasn’t the case for you too. the more your hands carefully roamed her body, the more self-conscious you got, you truly had no idea what you were doing. 

then, as if something in your mind clicked, you had an idea. what if you just did to her whatever you enjoyed doing to yourself in moments like these? that could work.. right? maybe??

you glided your hand upwards, your finger lightly grazing her nipple. in response to the sudden movement, a lewd sound accidentally escaped from her pretty lips, her breath hitching. that sound was a small moan.

a small one, barely audible, yet it was still enough for you to feel the activation of every single neuron residing in your brain.

then suddenly, it’s like the concept of making love to her wasn’t as nerve-racking as it originally was.

“s-sorry..” she apologized, seeming slightly embarrassed.

you kissed her cheek, reassuring her, “don’t apologize, i wanna hear you.”

despite it being an accident, she seemed to enjoy the sensation of your hand on her chest, so you went back to teasing her tits and gently groping them before you eventually asked, “is it okay if i go further..?”

nodding in a keen manner, she swallowed her saliva, then breathed out her response, “yes. yes keep— keep going. please.”

well shit! even if you wanted to stop, it’s not like you could, not with how good she sounded pleading for you.

not wasting any more time, you proceeded to separate one of your hands from her chest and quickly slid it downwards; to the band of her sweatpants. now, of course, your other hand was still in its original place, working its magic, but you wanted her to feel more. so much more.

you wanted to convey every surge of affection you violently felt for her into pleasure. and, if there was one thing you surely knew how to do, it was kissing her. 

so, you started kissing on her neck, which she didn’t expect whatsoever, and still heavily concentrated on the hand you had on her breast. then, you pulled on the sleeve of her tee just enough to expose her shoulder and moved your mouth towards it, nipping and gently licking it.

your hand now fully slipped into her pants, you teased her entrance through the fabric of her underwear as you kept kissing her naked shoulder. you listened to her attentively and took mental notes of her reactions; so far, her breathing got heavier, her thighs slightly clenched around your hand and she was now frequently biting her lip. 

plus, her panties were wet. 

did all of that mean you were doing good? …perhaps it did!

and did her drenched underwear make you short circuit? perhaps it did as well!

“d-d’you feel okay?” you asked, before going back to slowly kissing her shoulder. she threw you a quick glance, chest heaving up and down. 

“s-so okay.” she giggled.

her smile being contagious, you found yourself doing the exact same thing, content with the answer she gave you.

soon enough, you traced your finger up her clothed slit before eventually sliding it into the undergarment she wore, making her shudder. after what felt like an eternity, you could feel her slick coat your digits from one swipe of the finger. 

it was tantalizing.

growing impatient, you quickly yet carefully settled your middle and ring finger on her swollen clit, making slow circular motions on it, looking at her in the process. full on whimpering, this time, she stared back at you, no longer embarrassed. she wanted to let you know how good you were making her feel, hence why she was getting louder with each movement you made, and it filled you with enough confidence and adrenaline to gently push her head towards you, leaning in for a kiss.

thankfully, she kissed you back, deeply at that, her eyes closed and her quiet moans muffled.

you pulled away after a few moments, “tell me if it hurts, okay?” you reminded her. she simply nodded, brain all fuzzy from arousal.

she grabbed your other hand and intertwined her fingers with yours. “g-go slowly.” she whispered.

“i will.” you affirmed.

slowly and gently, you slid your fingers into her core, making sure not to go too fast or too rough. thankfully, the wetness was making it easier for you, and probably for her as well. every time that your girlfriend’s breath hitched, that her hand gripped harder on yours or, hell, every time that her eyes closed, you stopped in your tracks and double checked to see if you were hurting her, so it took a little while for your digits to fully penetrate her. 

fortunately, she assured you that you weren’t, in fact, hurting her. some moments just felt more comfortable than others, is all.

once they were fully in, you gave her time to get used to the feeling, still double checking on her state every now and then. after a few deep breaths, she nodded.

“i-i’m ready.”

you started to pump your fingers in and out of her, taking in all of her as your speed slowly increased as time went on. naturally, as more time passed, you felt the urge to make her feel good get even stronger.

that’s when you decided to increase the pace, your fingers curling on just the right spot inside her, pumping faster and faster as your thumb played with her clit.

“is this okay baby—” you asked.

“f-fuck— yes y/n that feels good—“ was what she moaned out, cutting you off. a feeling of bliss progressively and clearly overtaking her whole body.

when you tried to look at her despite only being able to see her side profile, you could’ve sworn you saw an angel. her cheeks were slightly tinted with a pinkish color and her eyebrows were upturned, her whole face contorted with pleasure, her skin glistening with sweat. her eyes hooded with lust, hanni looked down at herself and attentively watched as you played with her. your fingers swimming in her slick, navigating in her folds the way a skilled sailor would the vast ocean, it was hypnotizing, and she realized how this was probably the way you got yourself off on a regular day, and she couldn’t help but moan at both the thought and the sensation. 

you made her feel good, you made her feel happy, loved. you always did.

amidst the chaos that was her messy bed, the setting somehow looked better than every piece of artwork you’d ever seen combined. the bed creaked ever so slightly, and she looked and sounded so beautiful, especially with the way the sun set directly on her parted lips at that moment. 

you were certain that your heart skipped a beat at the sight.

“i love you so much, hanni.” you softly said, kissing the back of her ear whilst you kept fingering her. she couldn’t form proper words, so she simply tightened her grip on your hand more, as a way to say it back.

then, once you picked up a stable pace for a few minutes, her back arched against you, her breathing getting heavier, practically panting. her hand’s grip on yours getting tighter, you felt her hot breath hit your neck once she settled her head into the crook of it.

“y/n— baby i think i’m- i’m— mmh—“

that was the moment she reached climax, letting out a long and loud moan as she rode out her orgasm, bucking her hips against your hand before smashing her lips onto yours. quietly, she let a few i love yous slip out of her mouth between kisses, her hand resting on your head, fingers intertwined with your soft hair. 

you particularly made sure to say it back to her every time.

you pulled out your fingers and took your hand out of her pants. still coming down from her high, she smiled at you with tired eyes and kissed your cheek. you smiled back, looking at her lovingly.

“d-did i do okay?” 

she giggled, “..are you seriously asking me that? do you not see me right now?” 

you raised your eyebrows, playful, “for all i know you were faking it.”

“yeah, actually.. i was faking it, especially with how wet i was from the whole thing. aren’t i such a good actor y/n? it’s almost like i legitimately came really hard—”

“shut up.” you elbowed her, laughing. she gave you a cheeky smile before she got up from the bed, grabbed a pair of new underwear from her drawer and opened the bedroom door, heading straight towards the living room to pet her dogs after changing. 

“hey y/n?”

“hm?”

“…wanna bake brownies in a bit?” 

“uhm.. yes? what kind of question is that?? let me just go wash my hands first.” you replied, getting up and walking towards the bathroom before adding on, “unless you wanna eat very unsanitary cum-buttered brownies, of course—“

you heard her contagious laugh from across the hallway, making you smile to yourself, “you’re fucking disgusting— go wash your hands, you weirdo!”

oh how you loved your girlfriend.

[acourtofthought]

Lucien in Feral Mate mode:

Lucien snarled at the king over the bite of the magic at his throat, “Don’t just leave her on the damned floor—” There was a flare of light, and a scrape, and then Lucien was stalking toward Elain, freed of his restraints.

Lucien was shaking his head, panting, and whirled to us. “Get her back,” he snarled at Tamlin over the ranting of the king. A mate—a mate already going wild to defend what was his.

Jurian stalked over to Lucien amid the rising squabble, laughing under his breath. “Do you know what Illyrian bastards do to pretty females? You won’t have a mate left—at least not one that’s useful to you in any way.” Lucien’s answering growl was nothing short of feral.

I was fairly certain that only centuries of training kept Lucien from leaping over the table to rip out Jurian’s throat.

Touch her, smell her, taste her— The instincts were a running river. He fisted his hands at his sides.

But even as shame washed through him, the words, the sense chanted, Mine. You are mine, and I am yours. Mate.

He fought against the bristling rage, the irrational urge to find the male who’d claimed her and shred him apart.

He paused right between them and said to me, to Nesta, “She needs fresh air.” “We’ll judge what she needs.” I could have sworn his ruby hair gleamed like molten metal as his temper rose. But it faded, his russet eye fixing on me. “Take her to the sea. Take her to some garden. But get her out of this house for an hour or two.”

But Lucien’s attention went right to the hallway toward the back, his nostrils flaring as he scented Elain’s direction. And who she’d gone with. A low snarl slipped out of him—

The words were little more than a growl.

His russet eye flashed with simmering rage. An uncontrollable instinct—for a mate to eliminate any threat.

Lucien in Calculating Mate mode:

“Forever,” I parroted, glancing behind—to where Lucien stood in the gravel drive. His gaze on me. Face hard. As if he’d seen through every lie. As if he knew of the second tattoo beneath my glove, and the glamour I now kept on it. As if he knew that they had let a fox into a chicken coop—and he could do nothing. Not unless he never wanted to see his mate—Elain—again.

Lucien breathed, “Where is he keeping her?” I knew who he meant. I shook my head. “I don’t know. Rhysand has a hundred places where they could be, but I doubt he’d use any of them to hide Elain, knowing that I’m aware of them.” “Tell me anyway. List all of them.” “You’ll die the moment you set foot in his territory.” “I survived well enough when I found you.” “You couldn’t see that he had me in thrall. You let him take me back.” Lie, lie, lie. But the hurt and guilt I expected weren’t there. Lucien slowly released his grip. “I need to find her.”

Lucien in Respectful Mate mode:

“Is … is there anything I can get for you?” I’d never heard my friend’s voice so soft. So tentative and concerned.

The words were a rasp as he instead said, “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Are you hurt?” he asked, coming toward us. Spying the blood speckling Elain’s hands.

Lucien now stood in the sitting room, close to Elain’s side.

“How is she?”

But is she still …” A muscle flickered in his jaw. “Does she still mourn him?”

Lucien had encountered him, I realized. Somehow, in living with Jurian and Vassa at that manor, he’d run into Elain’s former betrothed. And managed to leave the human lord breathing.

But he remained sitting. Even as his fingers dug into the arms of his chair.

The bigger box is for you. The smaller one is for her.” It took me a heartbeat to realize he meant the presents. I glanced over my shoulder to the careful silver wrapping, the blue bows atop both boxes.

Lucien in Sad Mate mode:

Lucien leaned his head back against the rock wall behind us. “And then I’ll ask your mate how he survived it—knowing you were engaged to someone else. Sharing another male’s bed.”

But Lucien was standing in the doorway. And from the devastation on his face, I knew he’d heard every word. Seen and heard and felt the hollowness and despair radiating from her.

She did not love him, want him, need him. Another male’s bride.

Only concern for her. And … sorrow. Longing.

He glanced at Elain, who was again studying her lap. “I’m not needed here. I’ll fight if you need me to, but …” He offered me a grim smile. “I do not belong in the Autumn Court. And I’m willing to bet I’m no longer welcome at h—the Spring Court.” Home, he had almost said.

Lucien inclined his head in a bow, the movement hiding the gleam in his eye—the longing and sadness.

“She wants nothing to do with me.”

Cassian’s heart strained at the pain etching deep into Lucien’s face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing.

Lucien in Perfect Mate mode:

Water poured forth, Lucien hoisting Elain in his arms and out of the way.

he’d been more than happy to do so, given that his own status as a mated male made him uninterested in any sort of female company these days.

“I’m a mated male now.”

But Lucien gripped my arm, halting me. “I’m going with you,” he said again, face splattered with blood as bright as his hair. “I’m getting my mate back.”

“Tell me about her—about Elain,” Lucien said quietly. As if the death that squatted in the dark beside us had drawn his thoughts to his own mate as well.

But he couldn’t breathe as she faced him fully. She was the most beautiful female he’d ever seen.

“Let me do something. About Elain.

“Please tell me,” Lucien said when I crossed the threshold into the foyer. “What the healer says. And if—if you need me for anything.”

“Did you sense anything?” “No—I didn’t have time. I felt her, but …” A blush stained his cheek.

“I’ll go.” Lucien was staring at Elain as he spoke. We all looked at him. Lucien shifted his focus to Rhys, to me. “I’ll go,” he repeated, rising to his feet. “To find this sixth queen.”

Lucien, haggard and bloody, panting for breath. As if he’d run from the shore. His gaze settled on Elain, and he sagged a little.

“I’m fine,” Elain said quietly. And then asked, noticing the gore on him, the torn clothes and still-bloody weapons, “Are you—” “Well, I never want to fight in another battle as long as I live, but … yes, I’m in one piece.” A faint smile bloomed on Elain’s lips.

Lucien. He noticed it. “I heard you made the killing blow,” he said.

[linos-luna]

If your not too busy, can I request and Yandre smut with Seungmin, kinda like he’s a perv best friend type thing, the thought of it has been driving me nuts, only if you can or want to, love your work 🧡

Love the idea ☺️

————————————————————

Staring ❣️🔪

Yandere!Perv!Seungmin x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Yandere! , smut, implied drugging, groping, masterbating?

——————————————— 🧡

Seungmin knew it was a problem. You two have been friends for years and for whatever reason he couldn’t get himself to officially ask you out for a date. It’s not like you’d reject him, especially since you just broke up with a boyfriend. But there was some sort of sick thrill he got from thinking and looking you the way he does without you knowing. Maybe one day he’ll finally do it…

But right now, he felt a little bad. Here you were, telling him about your mixed emotions from the break up and all he was paying attention to was your chest.

You had invited him over to hang out and just vent and Seungmin didn’t mind. He’s been over many times before and you were comfortable at home so you wore some sweatpants and a shirt with no bra. It wasn’t anything scandalous but every once in a while, the shirt would lay flat against your chest, making your nipples show through the fabric. Honestly, you didn’t even notice… but Seungmin did.

“I don’t even know why I’m so upset… he was awful to me.” You frowned while wiping a tear from your cheek. “Literally the worst!”

“Don’t cry, y/n…” Seungmin said while gently rubbing your knee. “It’s normal to feel like this. “You were in that relationship for a good amount of time.”

Seungmin hated your ex. He wanted you to break it off for so long. He wanted to hurt that ex so bad. He didn’t like that man being intimate with you. Seungmin liked watching you pleasure yourself, that other man just got in the way. He has so many pictures…. Beautiful pictures… he can just get lost in the thought of them.

You sighed, knowing that he’s right. It startled the man a bit as he was snapped out of his thoughts. Tears rolled down your cheeks, some, dripping go your shirt before you leaned back on the couch. Seungmin noticed the wet fabric sticking to your skin… and he couldn’t look away. Instead, he continued to rub your knee and move up your thigh but you were too emotional to notice.

“Anyways… I’m sorry for dumping all that on you… you’re probably sick of me now.” You said with a frown. “It’s getting late. You probably wanna go home now…”

“I’m not sick of you.” Seungmin replied. It’s okay to rant. We all need to rant sometimes…” He stood up and paused, thinking of something. “Hey y/n?”

“Yes?”

“I’m really tired. Not sure I wanna drive back home.” He chuckled. “Mind of if I stay over? I can get comfortable on the couch.”

“Oh sure!” You smiled. I’ll get you some blankets and pillows.”

Seungmin smiled as you went to the closet to look for the items. He looked through his bag and found what he needed.

“Hey, do you want some water before bed?”

“Oh sure, I’ll get it—”

“Oh no it’s okay. I’ll get it!” He interrupted. “Just finish what you’re doing.”

“Oh okay.”

~~~~ 🧡

Seungmin gave you the glass of water before you went to get ready for bed. As you got changed, you took a few sips, humming softly while moving some hair from your face and removing any jewelry.

Seungmin waited patiently. He stuffed a small ziplock bag back in his bag, seemingly proud of what he’s done. Now all he needed to do was wait. And it didn’t take too long. You don’t even have the energy to turn off your lamp before passing out on the bed, hand next to the empty glass.

Once knowing you were asleep, Seungmin quietly creeped in and looked at your sleeping form. The covers were at your hips and shirt slightly raised.

So beautiful… he thought to himself as he gently lowered the sheets and moved your arm to your side.

“My god…” the man whispered to himself. “How come you’re so hot..? So sexy….” He grunted a bit, as if frustrated. “You do this on purpose… you let that other man fuck you… fuckin disgusting…”

His fingers traced your stomach before lifting your shirt over your bare breasts. He paused for a moment, his hand hovering over your cold hard nipple. “You don’t mind, hm? I mean… you are mine…”

He lightly groped your breasts, taking a deep breath as he felt himself getting aroused so quickly. “G-god, y/n… the things you do to me…”

You let out a small moan as he squeezed your breast a bit hard. It was making Seungmin lose it; his pants were incredibly tight and uncomfortable.

“F-fuckin bitch…” he grunts. “You do this on purpose…”

Seungmin couldn’t help himself. He was rubbing his bulge over his pants while taking deep breaths.

You only moved slightly, a light moan escaped your lips but not much else. But even that slightest noise was getting Seungmin way too worked up.

The man continued tracing his fingers down your body, pausing at your panties. He found the frilly pink material so cute.

“Why oh why…” he sighed while rubbing the material. “Why did you let such a man touch you… he was stupid….” Seungmin continued rubbing circles around your clothed cunt. “You were always mine… I know everything about you… and yet… you never gave me a chance…”

Again, you let out more breathy moans but still unmoving.

“Even while sleeping, you’re getting wet.” He chuckled. “You really are desperate for me huh?”

Slowly and gently, he slid the pink panties off of you and quickly slipped it in his pocket. He was mesmerized by the way your slick wetness stuck to the material. it was making his face hot and it took everything in him not to fuck you right then and there. He could wait to use them later.

Seungmin then moved the blanket back over your waist and took your limp arm. “I know you’re desperate. But do you know how desperate you make me?” He asked as if you were actually supposed to answer. “Well. You can feel.”

He unzipped his jeans and moved your limp hand to his boxers, touching it to his hardened bulge over the material.

“Maybe by the end of the night you’ll realize…” he paused and took deep breaths as he moved your hand. “Y-you’ll realize… you’re mine… and only… mine…”

[ellecdc]

Okay, it is way easier to be your authentic self on the internet with strangers so plz no judgment 👍

But I was hoping to put in a request, which is entirely up to you to do, obviously. I started my period this week and it's really the only time I feel like not myself (I don't have any of those specific gender-neutral boxers so I have to wear panties cause I use pads sorry if that's tmi) So I wanted to request a piece with Darksun comforting a non-binary reader during their period? With like the dysphoria and all that?

Sorry if this is ranty, I don't talk about my gender on here much cause it truly terrifies me but I trust you. (I've also spent the last two days crying while trying to pick out clothes for work. I'm going through it in the most first world problems way I can apparently and I feel silly for it)

Anyway! Sorry again for the rant, I'm nervous and over-explaining. Hope you have a great day!

first of all, thank you for trusting me [I hope I did this request justice, please tell me if I did not]. secondly, thanks for your patience seeing as you sent this back in July 🥺

poly!darksun x non-binary!reader who's on their period [876 words]

CW: non-sexual nudity, discussion of gendered clothing and society, body & gender-identity dysphoria, my first attempt at a non-binary reader so please let me know if I've mucked it up at all

You felt heavy; your shoulders ached, you were bloated, it took all the strength you had just to lift your legs to climb the stairs up to James’ dormitory (why did this school have so many sodding stairs!?) and your head felt like it was quickly filling with cotton as a migraine threatened to take over.

All you wanted to do was fall into James’ bed, maybe curl up in one of his quidditch jumpers, and force Barty to act as your weighted blanket for the next foreseeable future.

So by the time you’d finally made it up to James’ dorm room to hear him and Barty snickering to one another, you felt tears prick at your eyes believing that your dreams of cuddles and jumpers were all for naught. 

“Hurry up, they’re going to be here any minute.” You heard Barty hiss.

“Barty, I’m moving as fast as I can but- fuckin hells, Merlin and Morgana both; no wonder they’re so tetchy right now. This is a torture device.” 

“It’s not a torture device, they’re knickers.”

“They ought to be banned.” James grumbled. “How come you got the comfortable ones?” 

“Green really is more my colour, James. Besides, you look great in pink.”

James let out a sigh that sounded like agreement before he groaned again. “Where’d the string go?” 

You heard Barty chuckling.

“Barty, where’d the string go? Stop sodding laughing! Where’d it go?” 

You slowly - cautiously - pushed the door to the dormitory open to expose both of your boyfriends standing in the middle of the room, each in a pair of your more feminine knickers and a jumper each.

“What in the actual fuck is going on right now?” You deadpanned as you let your bookbag fall from your shoulder and hit the ground with a thud.

James had the grace to look somewhat abashed, but Barty simply turned and beamed at you. “There you are, my lovely Treasure! How was your day?” He asked as if he wasn’t standing half-naked in women’s underwear. 

“Terrible. Barty, what are you wearing?”

Barty looked at you like he was genuinely confused by your question. “What? This?” He said as he plucked at his Slytherin jumper. “It’s my favourite jumper.” 

“Uh huh…and the panties?” You continued.

“Well, it’s not really my style to go commando under my uniform, Treasure.” He scoffed.

When it became clear you weren’t getting anywhere in this conversation with Barty, you turned your sights on James. 

“What are you doing in..my knickers?” You asked, more than a tad reluctant to take ownership of an article of clothing that left you feeling horribly dysphoric. 

“Well…I- we just figured, I don’t know, maybe you’d like some camaraderie?” 

“Camaraderie?”

“Well, s’no fair that you have to be uncomfortable all on your own.” He mumbled awkwardly, and you felt your heart squeeze at the sentiment. 

“I think they look good on us, no?” Barty asked as he gave you a spin whereas James simply crossed his legs and looked at you worriedly.

“I, erm, I don’t want to turn around. I-”

“It’s okay, Jamie.” You let out with a sigh as you made your way over to him. “You two didn’t have to do this for me.” You murmured into James’ jumper where he had you cradled against his chest.

“We know that; of course we know we didn’t have to do this for you.” Barty agreed readily. “But you’re our sweetheart, and we love doing things for you.”

“We hate that you don’t feel like your best self when you get your period.” 

You grumbled as you rubbed your face into James’ chest as if you could physically burrow your way into his sternum. “I don’t think anyone feels like their best self when they get their period.” You argued.

Barty let out a noncommittal hum as you heard him shuffling behind you. “No, but we understand that it causes you some extra hurt, Tres.” 

At Barty’s soft tone, you turned to see him pulling back the sheets of James’ bed and holding one of James quidditch jumpers - no, your favourite of James’ quidditch jumpers - though he paused when he saw your face emerge from James’ chest and shot you a sympathetic smile. 

“I know…it’s different, and I know that this isn’t really what it’s about, but…us stepping into ‘feminine’ underwear doesn’t make either of us any less of a boy.” James started slowly. “In the same way that putting them on doesn’t make you any more of a girl.” 

“Society might say otherwise, but knickers aren’t boys or girls…they’re just cotton.” Barty added, and you couldn’t help but huff a laugh at that.

“Speak for yourself, Barty…” James grumbled as he shifted awkwardly. “Pretty sure mine are made out of devil’s snare; I still don’t know where that string has gone.”

“I love you, both of you.” You blurted; James tightening his hold on you and Barty making a sweet cooing sound from behind you. 

“We love you too, angel.”

“It’s true, I never went through this much trouble to help Reg feel better about his periods.” Barty added solemnly as he plopped down on James’ bed and patted the mattress. “Now come on, I plan to rot in this bed alongside you for the next foreseeable future.”

[amor-ad-nauseam]

Arguing with Dean about music

Summary: You, Sam and Dean are all prepping for a hunt. Meanwhile, you and Dean have the dumbest of arguments.

Pairings: Dean X reader

Notes ; fluff, silly argument, one shot.

Requests are open

“All I’m saying is, everybody knows that four was their best album.” Dean said while fishing a clean cloth from his duffle.

“And all I’m saying is, you’re just being stubborn.” You said in an unbothered tone with that underlying cadence of smugness he knows all too well. Your nimble fingers work at taking apart a hand gun to give it a well needed, and far over-due, cleaning.

“I am not!” (He definitely was) “But c’mon, mothership came out in two-thousand sevennnn.” He says as if it were some sort of crime. “All of it’s remastered crap anyway, nowhere near as good as the original.” He scoffs while handing you the cloth.

“You do realize “remastering” is just updating a song to match new quality standards?”

“And that’s the problem!” Dean said with a groan.

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose as you knew where he was going with this.

Dean picks up a knife and a sharpening block and begins to work as he goes on with his spiel. “Everyone is so obsessed with “new quality standards” and i-tunes and-and Justin Bieber!”

You roll your eyes and begin to reassemble the gun and move on to another.

“- physical media! That’s where it’s at. Just gimme some cassettes or hell even a vinyl and I am good. To. Go.”

You had heard this rant more times than you could count. You loved your boyfriend to death but damn could he talk. “Uh-huh” you say, looking up at him from your spot on the edge of the bed, the rest of the space taken out by the assorted weapons. “Whatever you say honey.” You nod with an amused smile. Regardless, it was still endearing how passionate he was.

Dean turns the knife in his hand and begins to sharpen the other side. “Okay, okay I’ll stop ranting,” he smiles. “But, there was no-“

“-Good music made after 1979,” Sam finishes, pushing open the motel door open with his foot and stepping inside.

You chuckle at this but Dean just nods his head approvingly. “Damn straight.” Dean replied.

“Oh god, don’t tell me you guys are arguing over Led Zeppelin again.” Sam sets down the paper bag he was carrying- filled with salt and other things you’d need for tomorrow’s hunt.

“She thinks mothership is a good album.” Dean said.

“So? It’s not bad, just a best-hits type thing.” Sam shrugs.

“See!” You pointed to Sam. “Thank you!”

“Two-thousand seven” Dean frowned.

“Dazed and confused is on there!” You retorted.

“Just listen to the album like a normal person.”

“I’m the one who’s not normal?”

Sam sighed and rubbed his forehead. It was going to be a long night.

[haetrack]

study buddies

haechan x f!reader (ft. doyoung)

wc: 5.6k

warnings: sex mentions, dry humping (MDNI), nothing too graphic, haechan makes a bet against doyoung over you

this is a continuation of me and @hrts4doie nerd!haechan, read part one and part two if you would like! this is the first part, @hrts4doie will post the second part on their account, read here!

“i can’t believe that you haven’t even studied for this test.”

“well, i’ve been busy.”

doyoung rolls his eyes, scrolling through a powerpoint he swears he’s seen a hundred times already. “busy with your new girlfriend? can’t believe she actually asked you out.”

haechan lets out a sarcastic laugh, “you’re so jealous of me, it’s crazy…”

doyoung scoffs, shoving his face closer to his laptop, ignoring the proud smirk on haechan’s face.

haechan never expected to talk to you, never expected to sleep with you, and most definitely didn’t expect for you to to ask him out. he’s always kept to himself, making few friends, like doyoung, from group projects. he didn’t mind his social life, never really care for being alone. but with you by his side, he realized that he could never go back to how he was.

even before he had sex with you, he always found himself staring at you. all he had with you was one shared class, which he was so sure you didn’t even know he was in. you always looked so good, and it was his lucky day when you asked to be in a group with him. when the project was done, he thought you would never talk to him again.

except, you did. you kept up with him, listened to him rambling on about whatever video game, listened when he ranted about a class. you listened when he accidentally confessed that he thinks you’re attractive.

he had immediately taken his words back, to which all you did was laugh. you “accidentally” confessed that you thought he was cute, too. he remembers how the air in the room shifted, how your eyes glanced to his lips, moving to slide the glasses off his face. you pulled yourself into his lap, his fingers twitching at his side.

he suddenly hears doyoung calling out to him, followed by doyoung’s hand shoved in his face, snapping to get his attention. haechan blushes, realizing that he got too caught up in his thoughts, thoughts of you sitting so prettily on top of him. he quickly looks up to find an unimpressed look on doyoung’s face, “i called you here to study, not to daydream.”

“i, uh, i’m sorry,” haechan says, batting his eyelashes, “just remembered how boring you are.”

doyoung, already used to haechan’s teasing, can only huff in response, “you do realize that we’re studying for a midterm. a midterm. this is serious.”

“if you’re still sad about your breakup, feel free to talk to me anytime. now i’m the relationship expert!” haechan smirks, clearly showing off.

“how did you even get with someone like your girlfriend? does she like nerds like you or something?”

“hey! i have appeal, i’m not just some random nerd!”

“yeah, well i just know you’re into some weird stuff,” doyoung says, finally closing his laptop, “you’d probably like it if she pushed you around.”

haechan shifts in his seat, trying to ignore the image of you on top of him forming in his head. “w-whatever!” haechan splutters, “at least i have a girlfriend and i’m probably still going to do better on this exam than you will!”

doyoung has to stop himself from laughing out loud at haechan’s offhanded admission of being pushed around in bed. doyoung clears his throat before speaking, “well who’s the one who’s been studying and who’s the one who’s been getting fucked by their girlfriend?”

“i’m smarter, anyway! you’re acting like you wouldn’t beg to fuck my girlfriend, either!”

doyoung looks at haechan in shock, quickly trying to form a coherent sentence to get back at haechan, “we both know that i could fuck her better, don’t lie.”

a pout quickly forms on haechan’s face, “don’t think about fucking my girlfriend!”

“you literally just said that i would beg to have sex with her,” doyoung falters, “you know what, i don’t want to talk about this in a public library.”

haechan is silent as doyoung slips his laptop into his backpack. doyoung sees haechan bite the inside of his cheek in thought, probably thinking of a nice apology for his friend. once he’s packed everything away, he realizes that haechan is staring at him, his hands pressed onto the table.

“if you score higher than me on this test, i’ll let you fuck my girlfriend.”

okay, so maybe not a nice apology.

doyoung doesn’t really know what to say, doesn’t know how to react, and he doesn’t even know how he’s still making eye contact with haechan. his mouth opens and shuts, haechan still staring at him. doyoung manages to speak, “what… what?”

haechan doesn’t flinch at doyoung’s shock, “i said, if you do better than me on the midterm, i will let you have sex with my girlfriend.”

doyoung’s face is pulled into a frown when he realizes what haechan says this time. he has to stop himself from yelling into haechan’s face, “literally where did that come from?”

haechan just shrugs and pushes up his glasses with his finger, “i just know i’ll do better than you on the exam, and i kinda just want to show off.” 

“in what world do you have to make a bet like that just to say you’re better than me? just, i don’t know, say you’ll do good?”

“but where’s the fun in that? and plus, it’s not like i’ll lose.”

“and if i win?” doyoung challenges.

haechan whines and shoves doyoung’s shoulder, “you won’t.”

doyoung sighs, suddenly too tired and wanting to go home. haechan exhausts him, and tonight proves that. haechan just laughs and shoves his stuff into his backpack, standing up and looking down at doyoung. doyoung glares at him, standing up just to intimidate him a little. “lets just go already, you’re stressing me out.”

haechan just smiles and laughs, ushering doyoung out of the library. doyoung walks with haechan to the bus stop, to where haechan will eventually go to your place to be with you. doyoung isn’t jealous, but he does miss being around someone that he likes. maybe he’ll try studying on his own for this exam.

doyoung eyes haechan while walking with him, acting as if nothing even happened. he’s harping about some random game event, almost too casually. doyoung tries not to think about you, but he can’t help but think you are pretty. he’s seen you around campus, he’s seen you more with haechan. he can’t help but stare sometimes.

it doesn’t help that doyoung did go through a breakup, his ex saying that they should both move on. doyoung bites down on his lip, trying not to think too much about it. he should focus on his grades, focus on his studying, focus on this bet. the worst that could happen is losing. the best thing that could happen is the possibility of good sex.

while they’re both waiting for haechan’s bus, doyoung raises the question, “is your girlfriend even okay with this?”

“well, it was a spur of the moment kind of thing, so… i’m not sure yet,” haechan laughs into the quiet air.

once again, doyoung is rendered speechless by haechan, “how do you even know that she’ll agree to this?” 

haechan spots his bus rolling down the street, “she’ll say yes. and like i said, you’re definitely not winning.”

doyoung shoves haechan, sending him off to his bus as haechan laughs loudly. before haechan boards, he turns to look at doyoung dead in the eye, “i’ll see you on exam day. good night.”

doyoung nods, bidding him farewell. he goes his own way, hands shoved into his jacket pockets as he’s lost in thought. he will do better than haechan.

haechan finally makes it to your apartment. the bus ride felt too long, and it feels like it’s been years since he’s seen you. you’ve both been busy with your own exams. haechan used to not mind exam weeks, but now that he has you, it pains him to be away from you for so long.

he had tried studying with you, but it always ended up with haechan being too needy to focus. he can’t study by himself either, always disrupted by the thought of you fucking him. he’d send you a quick text, and you always agree to let him come over. it eventually turned into you scolding him, telling him he needs to find someone to study with him.

of course, it had to be doyoung.

he texts you that he’s at your place, making his way to your apartment door. he knocks, waits a bit, and is then greeted by the sight of you. you look tired, but he can’t help but still find you pretty given the circumstances. you smile at him, pulling him into a quick kiss, grabbing his hand to bring him inside.

he’s brought to your bedroom, watches as you plop yourself into bed. you turn to him, cocking your head to the side as you ask, “how was it with doyoung?”

he opens the separate drawer you made for his stuff at your apartment, pulling out some house clothes so he can lay down with you. he pulls off his shirt, hears how you whistle at him, and he immediately gets shy. he shushes you, “it went fine, we studied for most of it, and then we just kept on talking at the end.”

“that’s good,” you hum, watching him shimmy out of his pants with a smile on your face, “what did you guys talk about?”

he crawls into bed with you, caging you in his arms, legs intertwined with yours. after officially dating haechan, you realized how touchy he is. it’s cute considering how he’s still shy, not seemingly thinking too hard about the skinship he offers you. he nuzzles his face into your shoulder, “he was just telling me about his ex, everything that happened.”

you, not one to miss out on gossip, gasp as you pull yourself away to look at him properly. “please tell me you’re gonna talk about his drama. please.”

he laughs a little, moves to lean on his shoulder as he begins, “it’s been maybe, four months since he’s gotten broken up with?” he then leans in to whisper in your ear as if there’s other people around you, “but do you know what?”

you lean into him, whispering back, “what is it?”

“he still goes to see his ex. i don’t know if they’re still friends or they’re just…” he clears his throat, “having sex, but they still meet up.”

you gasp, eyes widening as you laugh at his words. doyoung doesn’t really seem like the type to do that, so knowing he might be just that desperate makes you giddy. “poor doyoung,” you start, threading your fingers into haechan’s hair, “i hope things get better for him.”

he’s not exactly listening, the feelings of your fingers in his hair making his eyes flutter shut, a natural pout forming on his face. you kiss him, and before haechan can pull you any closer, you pull away. you look at him expectantly, waiting for a response as he tries to remember what you said.

“um, speaking of which, there was something else we talked about.”

you curl into his side, eyes closing as you hum in response. he shifts a little, an arm wrapping around your waist. you’re waiting for him to talk, but you get no response. you call out his name, and he grips onto you. “is there something wrong?” you ask, a little worried.

“no, well, me and him have an exam coming up, and we kinda… made a bet on it.”

“yeah, what about?”

“so, i kinda said, if scores better than me, i’d let him…” his words trail off, mumbled out into your room. you move away from him to try to see what exactly has gotten into him. you’re surprised when you see his cheeks flushed red, teeth biting down on his bottom lip as he looks away from you. you raise your eyebrows, encouraging him to continue.

he takes a deep breath before he lets out his words all in one go, “i said if he scored better than me i’d let him have sex with you.”

you blink at him. once. twice. you can’t really say you don’t expect this coming from him but… still. rather than the actual bet, it dawns on you that he might talk about you more than you expect. you wonder if he talks about your sex life. you wonder if he says that he takes control in the bedroom.

“how… how did you even come up with that?”

haechan dryly laughs, “doyoung said the exact same thing. i just felt bad for him? and he kept on complaining how i wasn’t studying, but i’ve been busy!”

“and what made you think i would say yes?” you laugh at his outburst, and haechan relaxes a little at your comfort.

he continues, “i wouldn’t have made the bet if i knew i wasn’t gonna do better than him! i know i’m better, this bet is just gonna prove that.”

a small smirk appears on your face, “i like seeing you all confident like this,” you roll him onto his back, moving on top of him. his hair is splayed behind him, his glasses crooked on his face. “of course my baby is smart,” your lips are dangerously close to his, “are you gonna show me how smart you are?”

he nods, eyes losing focus at your proximity. you lean in to kiss him, his hands grabbing your ass, groping at the flesh. you can feel his dick twitch against your thigh, you can feel how fast he runs out of breath. you realize it’s been awhile since you’ve seen each other, and his desperate movements prove that.

you’re no different either, you can feel how wet your panties are as you grind against him. his hands push you against him, making you grind down onto his cock as he whines into your mouth. your hands make their way to his hair, slightly tugging at the strands as he bucks his hips into yours.

the room is filled with the sound of your lips against his, his loud whimpers, and your soft breaths. moans of your name are ushered out when he gets close, his hands touching every part of you that he can reach. “needed this so bad,” he whines, “been needing you since i’ve been at the library…”

“yeah? thinking gross thoughts in public, in front of your friend?” he frantically nods, arms wrapping around you to pull you close. he can feel the heat on his face, so sure his glasses are embarrassingly fogged up, begging you to continue.

your lips move to his neck, feeling your warm breath on his skin as you speak, “probably why you made the bet, right? you were thinking about me too much, hm?”

your words trigger his orgasm, cum spurting into his boxers as he lets out a whimper of your name. at the sight of your boyfriend falling apart under you, looking fucked out from just some humping and kisses, you cum. haechan moves your hips, helping you ride out your orgasm as he fights off getting hard again.

it’s quiet in the room again, save for the heavy breaths you both let out. haechan’s hand soothingly traces patterns on your exposed skin. your head lays on his chest, nuzzling close to him.

a few moments pass before you whisper out, “i’ll do the bet.”

he opens his eyes to look at you, “really? you don’t have to, i’ll tell doyoung that-”

“no, it’s okay, baby. i know you’ll do good. after all, you’re my little nerd, right?”

haechan doesn’t argue when you call him your nerd.

a few days pass without interruption.

doyoung doesn’t try calling haechan to study, and haechan blasts music in his ears to avoid any thoughts of you crawling into his mind (not that he would mind, but the bet is putting everything on the line). at any chance, haechan goes to see you, seeking praise for being such a good student. he blushes when you do, pulling you into a kiss.

haechan doesn’t try too hard at studying, considering that it was half of his argument saying he didn’t need to study to be good. he’s making sure it won’t backfire on him, glossing over terms and dates as he studies. he tries once more to study with you in a call and repeat way. it’s ruined when you call him a good boy, haechan not being able to stop his cock from twitching.

it’s the day before the exam, and haechan texts doyoung to see if he’d like to meet up.

doyoung: i don’t think you distracting me is going to help

haechan: why are u trying so hard to fuck my girlfriend

doyoung: ?

haechan gives up on him.

there’s no study guide for him to go over, all he can do is go over his notes once more. he considers calling you, but you're either busy, or he’ll just end up getting distracted. he doesn’t think it’s a bad thing with the amount of time he spends with you. he likes it, likes you, he’d rather you take up all his time than him being holed up in his dorm.

he spends the rest of his afternoon at the library, multiple tabs open on his laptop for different classes. he almost forgot about the other exams he has to take, too caught up in his one shared class with doyoung. this bet, he thinks, could be the best decision of his life.

haechan, fully confident that he will win, thinks about what he can do. he’s obviously going to ask if he can have sex with you, but he might have to beg to be more in control. he might send doyoung a quick picture of you under him, crying out for him to fuck you. he doesn’t want to show you off or anything, but he does want to gloat. just a little.

he’s happy that you agreed to do the bet in the first place. you’ve always indulged in his little fantasies, and this is another one added to the list. it makes haechan’s heart beat faster knowing he’s the only one that can make you feel good. it doesn’t matter if he’s not in control, doesn’t matter if he’s the one begging, you’re the one calling his name every night.

which is why he made the bet in the first place. doyoung can complain all he wants, can think about you at any time, but you’re his. haechan tries not to be too possessive of you, but it’s hard not to when he’s so obsessed with you. he was made for you, made to be your boyfriend.

his thoughts are interrupted by a text from you, asking where he is. a small smile forms on his face, fingers tapping against the screen to let you know what he’s doing.

you: if ur not busyyy, then u can come over if u want

haechie: literally just yelled yipee in the library

haechie: packing up my stuff as we speak

you: ur so silly

you: see u soon baby

haechan tries to fight the blush from forming on his face, hastily pushing up his glasses as he rushes out of the library. even if there might be a bet going on, he’d much rather be with you, keeping you close as you press kisses to his skin.

you wait for haechan to text you that he’s outside. you haven’t really done anything today, except for study and taking multiple naps. exam season has always been hard for you, taking up so much of your time when you could be spending it with your boyfriend.

you find it funny how easy it is for him. he always looked like he knew what he was doing, and it was only confirmed once you worked on a project with him. you remember him shyly saying that he’d tell you all his studying secrets, trying to ignore how your eyes focus on his fingers writing something down.

his advice did help, but you still struggle like every person. haechan is just too smart for his own good. it only makes you prouder as his girlfriend.

you get a text saying that he’s at your place, and a knock is followed soon after. you trot to the door, opening it up to see his bright smile. he whines out before he wraps his arms around you, his head falling onto your shoulder as he breathes in your scent. you laugh at him, reciprocating his hug as he buries his face into you.

“you don’t know how much i missed you, it’s been forever.”

“you always say that. come on you big baby, let’s go lay down.”

he follows you into your room, his hand intertwined with yours. he can’t stand not being able to touch you when you’re so close.

when he sees you lay down, looking so comfortable, he practically rips his outside clothes to the clothes he has with you. he quickly scrambles to your bed, joining you in the comfort of your bed. he presses you against himself, silently begging for you to spoon him. you sigh out a laugh, wrapping your arms around him.

you can feel him relax at your touch, shoulders untensing, eyes shutting in the quiet of your room. one of your hands move to his hair, messing with the overgrown strands at the nape of his neck. he shudders slightly, pressing his face in the pillow as he gets more comfortable.

“how was today, baby?”

he mumbles out, “was fine… all i did was study.”

“me too, i think my professors must hate me or something.”

he lets out an airy laugh, grabbing the hand that’s not in his hair to press a kiss onto it. you press a kiss to the top of his head in return, hearing the satisfied hum he lets out at the feeling. if you could, you would want to stay like this forever, him in your arms. you just wish you both weren’t so busy.

“what are you gonna do tomorrow?” you ask.

“i have that exam with doyoung,” he groans, “i’m not worried, but i just need to get it over with already.”

“i know you’ll do good,” you say, watching a pink blush begin to form on his cheeks, “my baby always does so good.”

“thank you…” he whispers, embarrassment in his voice.

“don’t worry about the bet. in the end, it’s up to us, hm? even if doyoung wins-”

haechan cuts you off, “hey! he won’t!”

you laugh out, “i know he won’t, but on the small chance he might, you’ll show him how good you treat me, right?”

you can feel him squirm against you, trying not to let your words get to his head, “y-yeah, he needs to know how good i make you feel.”

“exactly,” you say as you press a kiss to his neck, feeling goosebumps form from your touch, “that’s what’s gonna make you do so good tomorrow.”

he nods, turning himself over to face you. his hands grip at your hips, eyes shining in the darkness of your room. he licks his lips, pulling you close to him as he kisses you. he moans into you, trying hard not to grind into your thigh.

it’s when you can feel him press his hard cock onto you that you pull away, smiling at the desperate look on his face. you shush him before he can whine, tucking yourself under the covers as haechan tries to form a coherent sentence.

“you have an exam tomorrow, you need to sleep early, baby.”

“but i-” he interjects, his eyes looking down at his cock that presses against his shorts, “you- can’t you help me?”

“nope! my baby needs all the rest he can get,” you smile, patting the space besides you, “now come lay down with me.”

he lets out a small groan, ignoring his twitching cock as he lays next to you.

“and no getting yourself off without me,” you assert.

haechan can only let out a whine.

it’s finally exam day.

after waking up, haechan finds you wrapped around him, cuddling up at his side. he stares at you sleeping (in the most non-creepy way, he swears), a smile on his face as he watches you sleep so peacefully. he likes having quiet mornings like this with you, wishes he could stay in bed with you all day.

except, your alarm for eight am rings, immediately waking you up.

haechan watches you groggily reach for your phone, shutting off the alarm, slamming it against the sheets when you do. he laughs at you, pull you in closer, kissing the top of your head as you snuggle yourself in his chest. he’s warm, almost making you doze back to sleep.

the sound of his voice wakes you up again, “do you think i should just skip my midterm?”

his voice is soft, yet serious as he contemplates sacrificing his grade if it means to get to stay in with you. your voice comes out muffled in his chest, “hm, you know i can’t let you do that, baby…”

he lets out a chuckle, the sound soothing you. “if i don’t get up now, i don’t think i’ll be able to move from here.”

you try to untangle yourself from his hold, but he’s the one who’s keeping you in place. you let out a whine of his name while he watches you with a smile. he eventually lets you go, making himself sit up alongside you. he reaches for your hand before speaking, “i wish i didn’t have to go.”

“i know, baby, but you have to take this test. you have to show everyone how good you are.”

he tries not to smile too hard at your words, choosing to slide out of your bed to stretch. he doesn’t miss the way your eyes stare at his exposed stomach from his shirt lifting. if he had the time, he’d ask for at least a makeout session, but even that might turn into something too much. he quickly changes into whatever clothes he can find, ridding the thought from his mind.

“anyways, you have a bet to do, right?” you remind him, “you’re going to show doyoung how smart my boyfriend is, hm?”

“of course,” he hums, “gonna show him what he’s missing out on.” he finishes his sentence with a soft kiss on your lips. it’s always nice like this, having him so close, no shyness detected when loving you. he chases your lips when you pull away, his pretty eyes looking to yours as you walk him out.

your both at your door, hands intertwined when you say to him, “i know you’re going to do great. don’t worry about anything, i’m right here.”

his eyes shine at your words, a faint blush on his cheeks as he turns to walk away from you. before he can fully step out, you softly call out his name. his head snaps towards you, expectant eyes waiting for you.

“one more thing,” you step out towards him. you place a quick kiss onto his lips, his hands twitching in surprise. “just a good luck kiss. if you do good, i’ll give you even more than that.”

he nods, forcing himself to walk away from your door. his hands are in fists at his sides, nails digging into his skin.

he can’t wait to see you again.

he makes it onto campus, calming himself down on the walk to his classroom. he hasn’t seen doyoung anywhere, not that he was thinking he would. it’s quiet on campus, everyone either taking an exam or stuck at the library studying.

he takes a deep breath as he enters the building, watching as other students enter his classroom. still no sight of doyoung as haechan heads towards class. he’s quick to open the door, scanning the room for his seat. he’s happy to see that no one’s taken his usual spot near the front of the class. 

he does see doyoung in his spot next to him, scrolling through his phone as he waits for the exam to start. he easily slides in next to him, startling doyoung from his scrolling. he glares at haechan, haechan ignoring him as he clears his throat, “you’re here early.”

“i’m always early though?”

“feels like you might be excited about something.”

“like finishing this exam, yes.”

“or maybe the bet?”

doyoung scoffs, and as soon as he does, his professor begins to explain the rules. haechan drone out the words, shoving his phone away and taking out a pencil. it shouldn’t be hard, it should be easy for someone like him. what’s distracting is knowing that doyoung is thinking the exact same thing, the same goal in his mind.

having sex with you.

haechan won’t let it happen, though. before the professor starts handing out the exam, haechan turns towards doyoung. haechan extends a hand out to him, doyoung hesitantly shaking it back. haechan grins, “may the best student win.”

it’s been a few days since he’s taken the exam. he remembers feeling confident during the exam, remembers walking out of the class with a proud smile on his face. he remembers texting you right after, asking if you’d like to go out and eat anywhere. he remembers telling you how good the exam went over food, a proud smile on your face as you listen to him.

he only remembers being confident that day.

he’s only talked- texted doyoung once after the exam, only after their professor said when the grades will be released. it was a quick chat of haechan gloating while doyoung glosses over it. he doesn’t need to talk to doyoung too much anyway, knowing he’s just as busy as haechan is.

today, he’s at your apartment again, lounging around as he waits for his grade. you’re seated with him on your couch, legs on top of his as you mindlessly scroll through your phone. you’re done with your exams, he’s done with his. it went as good as it could’ve gone, and he’s happy with this exam week.

the cherry on top would be winning the bet, and even after the test, he’s sure that he’s won. he can’t help how his leg shakes under you in excitement, not really reading what’s on his phone as he thinks about what he wants to do. he bites his lip, trying to drown out his thoughts.

after what feels like forever (read: 30 minutes after), he gets an email from his professor saying that grades have now been posted and uploaded. he scrambles to his feet, scaring you in the process as your legs are thrown off the couch. he quickly apologies, his fingers tapping against his screen to check his gradebook. there it is.

he got a 95 on his midterm.

he turns to look at you, immediately squealing as he throws himself onto you. you laugh as you wrap your arms around him, his face nuzzling into your chest as he lets out high-pitched noises. you shake him a little, asking what he got on his exam.

he grabs you by the shoulders, pressing you into the couch as he looks down at you, “i got a 95.”

a smile forms on your face before you pull him down to kiss you. he’s smiling against your lips, a hand on your cheek as he kisses you. you can feel how happy he is, satisfied hums as he kisses you. your hands are around his neck, keeping him close to you. one of his thigh slips between yours, a hand resting on your hip as he continues.

he can feel you grind down onto his thigh, small whimpers coming out of your mouth as you do. his cock twitches at the feeling, adrenaline rushing through his body. you eventually pull away from him, catching your breath before you speak, “i am so proud of you. you worked so hard, i’m glad it all paid off.”

his eyes flutter shut when you palm over his bulge, “don’t you think you deserve a reward?”

he quickly nods, moaning out a yes as he moves to kiss you again. you’re both desperate, hands moving all over each other, feeling needy from how long it’s been since you had sex. you can feel his cock press into you, your hips rolling to meet his. his warm hands reach under your shirt, squeezing your hip when you moan out his name.

it’s not until he feels a buzz from his phone, followed by another as his mind clears. “h-hold on,” he says between kisses, “what if it’s doyoung?”

your head falls back, your hooded eyes peering up at him, “you’re gonna check your phone now, just to see if it’s doyoung?”

“i know, sorry. just really quick, i swear.” his phone turns on, a satisfied grin on his face as he sees the texts are from doyoung. doyoung’s asking what he got on his exam, and haechan quickly texts him his answer. haechan’s about to put his phone down to get back to you, but before he can, doyoung texts him back.

doyoung: that’s funny

doyoung: i got a 96

he sends a picture as proof, and haechan falls back on his heels. you watch as he stares at his phone in shock. he doesn’t move, and you softly call his name to get his attention. “what’s wrong?” you start, “what happened? is it doyoung?”

he slowly shows you his phone, watching as you quickly read the texts on his screen. your face falls in shock. you’re both sitting there in silence, shock painted across your faces. his phone eventually falls onto the couch, trying to think of what to say.

you choose to speak first, “well, i mean… you still did well on the test.”

“but he did better! by one point!”

your hand moves to soothingly pat his head, “we’re just gonna have to see what happens. he did say yes to the bet, right?”

haechan pouts, his head nuzzles against your hand, “yeah…”

“this could be fun for both of us. i get to show off how much of a good boy you are.”

he pouts even harder, “wanted to show him that i fuck you good.”

you laugh, “well, that wouldn’t be true, would it? i’ll make sure to show him how good i can fuck you.”

a/n: I AM SO HAPPY TO BE POSTING THIS WITH WINNIE!!! finally one of our ideas coming out of the drafts... i can't wait for their part to come out... its gonna be crazy... a threesome perhaps (in a way... u will just have to wait and see...)