#ask your friend if they can guess correctly
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h2o-and-stuff · 8 months ago
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if you really know yourself, which one are you choosing?
H2O, Mako Mermaids edition
(the fanart belongs to @/willow-s-linda on tumblr)
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scientia-rex · 10 months ago
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When I was in ninth grade I wanted to challenge what I saw as a very stupid dress code policy (not being allowed to wear spikes regardless of the size or sharpness of the spikes). My dad said to me, “What is your objective?”
He said it over and over. I contemplated that. I wanted to change an unfair dress code. What did I stand to gain? What did I stand to lose? If what I really wanted was to change the dress code, what would be my most effective potential approach? (He also gave me Discourses on the Fall of Rome by Titus Livius, Machiavelli’s magnum opus. Of course he’d already given me The Prince, Five Rings, and The Art of War.)
I ultimately printed out that phrase, coated it in Mod Podge, and clipped it to my bathroom mirror so I would look at it and think about it every day.
What is your objective?
Forget about how you feel. Ask yourself, what do you want to see happen? And then ask, how can you make it happen? Who needs to agree with you? Who has the power to implement this change? What are the points where you have leverage over them? If you use that leverage now, will you impair your ability to use it in the future? Getting what you want is about effectiveness. It is not about being an alpha or a sigma or whatever other bullshit the men’s right whiners are on about now. You won’t find any MRA talking points in Musashi, because they are not relevant.
I had no clear leverage on the dress code issue. My parents were not on the PTA; neither were any of my friend’s parents who liked me. The teachers did not care about this. Ultimately I just wore what I wanted, my patent leather collar from Hot Topic with large but flattened spikes, and I had guessed correctly—the teachers also did not care enough to discipline me.
I often see people on tumblr, mostly the very young, flail around in discourse. They don’t have an objective. They don’t know what they want to achieve, and they have never thought about strategizing and interpersonal effectiveness. No one can get everything they want by being an asshole. You must be able to work with other people, and that includes smiling when you hate them.
Read Machiavelli. Start with The Prince, but then move on to Discourses. Read Musashi’s Five Rings. Read The Art of War. They’re classics for a reason. They can’t cover all situations, but they can do more for how you think about strategizing than anything you’re getting in middle school and high school curricula.
Don’t vote third party unless you can tell me not only what your objective is but also why this action stands a meaningful chance of accomplishing it. Otherwise, back up and approach your strategy from a new angle. I don’t care how angry you are with Biden right now. He knows about it, and he is both trying to do something and not doing enough. I care about what will happen to millions of people if we have another Trump presidency. Look up Ross Perot, and learn from our past. Find your objective. If it is to stop the genocide in Palestine now, call your elected representatives now. They don’t care about emails; they care about phone calls, because they live in the past. I know this because I shadowed a lobbyist, because knowing how power works is critical to using it.
How do you think I have gotten two clinics to start including gender care in their planning?
Start small. Chip away. Keep working. Find your leverage; figure out how and when to effectively use it. Choose your battles, so that you can concentrate on the battle at hand instead of wasting your resources in many directions. Learn from the accumulated wisdom of people who spent their lives learning by doing, by making mistakes, by watching the mistakes of their enemies.
Don’t be a dickhead. Be smarter than I was at 14. Ask yourself: what is your objective?
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yukioos · 23 days ago
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BED CHEM
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SUMMARY: viktor x reader // you and mel walk down the hallways of piltover university when suddenly, you encounter two men trying to break into a professor’s laboratory.
AUTHORS NOTE: hiii!! so sorry i haven’t posted in a while. season 2 of arcane broke my heart, but it was so cool. anyway, im working on an ashley and ada writing atm, but pls be patient. this is 1.2k words and something i randomly thought of because of a pinterest comment under a photo of viktor
WARNINGS: trying to break into a room, reader is interpreted as feminine because of a long dress and heels, reader is a councilor, not proofread
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as a new member of the piltover council, you’ve been the busiest you’d been in your life. constant laws to vote on and tedious, frequent meetings could make you feel annoyed at times. however, you made a new friend, who you’ve become extremely close with in the past couple of years.
you and mel knew each other when you were younger, just never hung out as much as you do now. despite not having strong connections to one another at a young age, it opposes how you are now. she’s invited you to her nightly scouting at piltover university.
it isn’t an interesting activity to do, but you love hanging out with mel. during these times when you explore the large university for hours, you find much time to converse with the noblewoman. sometimes you and she hold your giggles after telling the other a joke, not wanting to alert a trespasser.
this night doesn’t seem to be unlike all the others. you walk down the decorated halls of piltover university with a flashlight in hand. your flowy black dress hangs low to your ankles, and your and mel’s heels clack against the tile floor.
you and mel whisper amongst one another, she asks, “have you had your eye on anyone lately?” smirking softly and side-eyeing you.
you gasp and your cheeks flush, “‘course not, mel! i just… have not found the right person yet, i guess.” your smile diminishes.
your heels continue to clack against the ground, and you feel a cold breeze on your bare arms and leg, exposed due to the slit dress. you shiver and rub your hand on your arm, keeping the flashlight in front of you.
there’s a moment of silence between you two when mel hesitatingly speaks up, “maybe jayce has a friend you will feel… attracted to.”
“eh, i’ll just not do much. maybe let the universe pull me to the right person instead, yeah? i would hate to waste my time on the wrong person—“
she places her arm in front of you, squinting and giving you a look. you tilt your head before you begin to hear voices, and you quietly turn your flashlight off. mel keeps hers on, and the two of you tip-toe closer to the noise. it seems to be close to heimerdinger’s office, if you remember the university layout correctly.
“so far, so good—“ a man with a thick accent whispers, as if trying to hide his actions.
mel turns the flashlight on, and you cross your arms. the two men shield their eyes, and you recognize one as jayce talis. you tilt your head at the sight of the other man with brown hair and a defined jawline, who is turning a key into the door labeled ‘pf. heimdinger.’
mel taunts, “hmm. willing to risk exile for your endeavor. that’s quite the conviction.”
“councilor!” jayce interrupts, “what a surprise to see you, huh?”
then, the mysterious man comes up with an excuse, “wait a minute, this isn’t my bedroom. how could i have…”
jayce stands up from his knees and pleads with you and mel, “please. we can prove that it works.”
mel comes up with a contradiction as fast as lightning, she hums, “hmm. you couldn’t do so earlier today, how is tonight any different?”
“we figured out how to stabilize it.” the pale man replies.
he eyes are sharp toward the noblewoman until his gaze travels to you. his eyes widen and his cheeks flush, he can feel himself becoming warmer and warmer. you can tell he’s observing you and your actions, as well as your attire.
god, you’re beautiful.
he doesn’t say many words over the next couple of seconds, but you smile at him, warming his heart quickly. he’s knocked out of his mind when mel speaks.
“you’re the professor’s assistant,” she refers to the man with the keys.
jayce disagrees, “no, he’s my new partner.”
you nervously chime in, sticking close to mel, “even if you manage to prove your theory, the other council members would destroy it.”
“heimerdinger will recognize the potential, miss l/n,” the handsome man says.
he knows your name!
mel scoffs, and she’s not having any of their crap, “he already does. it scares him. it scares them all.”
“what about you, miss l/n? you are on the council, correct?” jayce’s partner asks. his eyebrows furrow in curiosity, and your heart melts at his eyebrows twitching upwards.
you ponder for a few seconds, staring at him and slickly moving closer to the man. you respond, taking a few moments to think of how to form a sentence in front of such an attractive guy, “i think any worthwhile venture includes risk. and please, call me y/n.”
you hear whistling from the hallway, and you give mel a glance that makes her infer, ‘we need to make a decision quickly.’
“councilors, this technology, it’s real. and no matter what happens here, it’s going to change our world. we should be the ones to lead it. piltover, the land of progress, equality, innovation. i know it sounds impossible, but when have we ever let that stop us? please, just give us a chance.” jayce explains.
you glance at mel, and you assume she’s left the decision to you. you reply with a sigh, “one night, you two. i want to see in the morning how you have progressed your technology.”
“thank you, councilor l/n,” the one in the white tie thanks.
you quietly nod and smile, waving to them as mel gently pulls your arm and turns the flashlight off. she goes on to distract and talk to harold, the enforcer. as you step down the hall, you glance behind you to hardly see the nameless man staring at you back. he then gets pulled into the room by jayce, who seems urgent to work on the high-end technology.
as councilor medarda’s flashlight flicks off, and you and mel walk away, viktor’s still standing near the entrance of the laboratory. he sees a shine in your eyes even through the dark hallway, however, he doesn’t know if you can see him as well.
he doesn’t even notice jayce has unlocked the door until he gets pulled in by the taller man.
“you were ogling at councilor l/n.” jayce grins, teasing his partner.
“i was not. that would be unprofessional and inappropriate. plus, we are here to work on hextech,” he attempts to change the subject, “we should get working on it.”
“i’ll work with mel to set you two up.” jayce objects, rolling his eyes and chuckling at the slender figure.
viktor couldn’t pass up that opportunity.
“who’s the cute boy with the white jacket and the thick accent?” you ask mel, walking away from the enforcer.
she grins at you, showing her perfect teeth, “that was viktor. and from what i can tell, he’s interested in you.”
as you continue to walk down the hallway, leaving the university to travel toward your bedroom, you go to sleep with a happy feeling in your chest.
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misstycloud · 2 months ago
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What about a yandere playboy x revenge-driven reader?
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Yandere! Playboy is the guy on campus. How can he not be? He has everything a person could ever want. He is wealthy, handsome and has many friends. Best of all qualities; he’s great in bed.
Yandere! Playboy has been hitting beds for years now. He is young and has a right to live life to the fullest, so why shouldn’t he enjoy himself while he still can? His parents doesn’t approve of this behaviour but what can they do to stop him? Besides, he’s already told his father that he’ll find someone to settle down with when he’s older and fit to take over the company. He doesn’t want to lose the privileged life he has so it’s in his best favour to just do what his dad tells him to and find someone to marry later.
It wouldn’t reflect well on the company if its leader is a scandalous, immature playboy after all.
Yandere! Playboy who has been with most of the people on campus. The only exception are the ones he and his friends consider ‘too ugly’ or ‘just not up to standards’- which can be due to anything. It’s basically become a game by this point; who in the friend group can be the college’s number one player.
Yandere! Playboy who almost let his friend surpass him in that department. It was a close call. Good luck he found a cute girl in time so he could drive up his score just above his friend’s. He noticed her at a party. He hadn’t seen her around before so he guessed she was new. The girl looked very out-of-place, standing in a corner while everyone else were letting loose. Did she come alone? Whatever, it didn’t matter. Quickly he snatched her up. She definitely wasn’t the best he’s had, nowhere near it in fact. She was an average fuck at best. It was only after he’d brought her home and fucked her until she cried, that he realised his mistake. After the deed was done she was awfully clingy. She wrapped her arms around him and tried to nuzzle his neck, much to his dismay.
Yandere! Playboy hastily pushed her off and asked her what she thought she was doing. Confused, she responded that she just wanted to cuddle since what they did was so special. Oh no, he thought. She was one of those girls who thought hooking up once meant ‘relationship’. How could he be so stupid? He knew better than to take ‘sweet’ girls with him, they always ended up deluding themselves they were a couple. Sternly, he told her to get out. This made her confused and she wondered if she’d done something wrong.
“Yes, you’ve done something wrong.”
“What was it? Please tell me.” She whispered in a small voice.
He sneered at her. “You think we’re a couple now or some shit. Sorry to burst your bubble but we’re not together.”
The girl bit her lip, tears welling up in her eyes. “We’re…not? Then why would you-“
“-don’t think you’re special. I just didn’t want my pal’s fuck-score to get higher than mine and you were the first decent thing I could find.”
Afterward he kicked her out. He didn’t give a shit that she was crying. Her feelings didn’t matter to him. No one’s feelings mattered to him besides his own. It was her own fault for getting her hopes up. She was cute, don’t get him wrong. But she seemed way too much of a goody two-shoes for him.
Yandere! Playboy who went about life normally after that. Occasionally he did see his latest lay around campus but she never approached him, instead she chose to send him a sad glance now and then. Pathetic.
Yandere! Playboy had been so caught up with a bunch of school work, he swore the professors had it out for him. After all that tediousness he deserved a break. He needed to relax and there was only one way to do that correctly. Unfortunately his regular ‘buddies’ were unavaliable, he’ll have to find someone else tonight.
Yandere! Playboy who searched the room filled with dancing, intoxicated people. The constantly colour-switching lights made him dizzy. No matter how much he searched he could not see anyone who’d caught his interest. He was about to give up when someone finally got his attention. It was you. Gosh you were just gorgeous. Wow, he thought. He hadn’t seen anyone like you before. Luckily you appeared to notice him too. He seductivle licked his lips while staring into your eyes and was happy when you showed equal interest.
Yandere! Playboy who didn’t waste a minute and went right up to you. You were been hotter up close. This was going to be fun, he thought as he led you upstairs.
Yandere! Playboy was in shock. What the hell just happened? The morning light shone directly in his face but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. After he’d brought you to his room for what he’d imagined to be a usual fun night, he’d been fully surprised. You were nothing short of amazing. He couldn’t recall a moment when he’d ever felt so good. Usually he was the one to lead but you took over as if for was the most natural thing in the world. Never in his life had he been so thoroughly explored. The bruises on his body still ached when he moved.
He needed more.
Yandere! Playboy became obsessed afterwards. He had to see you again. All those years of sleeping around could never amount to the pleasure he felt that night with you and he desperately wanted to feel it again. Sadly, it was like you vanished. Did you not go to the same college? He asked around but no one knew you. Strange, he thought. Weeks passed and there was still no sign of you. He was incredibly pent up now. He had been focused on finding you that he hadn’t taken anyone home since. His friends thought he was acting way to obsessed with his random person and needed to calm down. Perhaps if he spent time with someone he’d cool off. They see him up to meet one of his regular ‘buddies’ who was more than happy to see him again.
Yandere! Playboy tried to recreate the experience with them but it didn’t work. They were all clumsy and didn’t know how to make anything feel good. He couldn’t even finish that time. Frustrated, he threw them out and told them he wanted to be alone. Why wasn’t it working? What went wrong? And why the hell couldn’t he stop thinking about you? It made him want to tear his hair out.
While he was deeply grumbling about his newfound problem, he was interrupted by a knock on his door. He shouted at the person to leave him alone but the knocking didn’t stop. He ripped the door open and was prepared to scream at the other person when his eyes widened in surprise. He was speechless.
There in the doorway stood you. You gave him a wicked smile, “Can I come in?”
Yandere! Playboy practically became your dog after that. He knows your name now, (Y/n). He shudders just thinking about it. Turns out you do go to another college and you’re not the most social person which explains why no one had heard of you. Not only are you fantastic on the outside, he finds you to be a wonderful person too. The more you’ve hung out, the more he’s gotten to know about you. He currently knows these five things: you always have a way to make him laugh, you share many hobbies(some which he can’t talk about even with his closest friends), you value his opinion, never talk down to him, and he absolutely loves you.
Yandere! Playboy who immediately cuts off his previous hook ups. You’re the only one for him. There isn’t a soul out there who can be your match. All of his friends have become so annoying. All they say is about how much he’s changed and it’s crazy how he’s doing a complete 180 for one single person. He ignores them. If they can’t see how perfect you are then that’s their loss, and he can’t be friends with them anymore. The only ones happy about this change are his parents.
He recalls his father saying, “So you’ve finally decided to be a real man and stop with your foolishness.”
“Yes. I have found my one and only love, the person I’m going to marry.”
His father nodded. Yandere! Playboy smiled. He had all intention to follow up with his statement. He loved you and based of your reactions around him, he’d say you loved him too.
Yandere! Playboy who was all giddy as he waited for you at the restaurant you’d decided to meet in. You had been hanging out for months now and he thought it was time to ask you to be his official partner(future spouse). It was a perfect setting. He has brought a bouquet of flowers and put on nice clothes. The ambiance was just right.
He waited.
You weren’t there yet, but sometimes you ran a little late.
He waited some more.
You still weren’t there. That’s all right! He’ll sit there until you arrive.
He sat in his chair long enough to see the staff send him pitiful looks. Where were you? It had been far too long for you to simply be ‘running a little late’. Did you get into an accident? He prayed nothing had happened to you. Quickly he pulled out his phone and sent you a text. Or well, he tried to.
‘Unable to send message’
What? He didn’t understand. Why wasn’t his text getting through? Did you…block him? No that wasn’t possible. There was no reason you would do that. You loved him. He loved you. You wouldn’t block him. All of his attempts to contact you went into the garbage. When he called; direct to voicemail. He tried looking for you, although that proved to be a lot harder than he thought. It was then he realised he had no idea where you lived. You were always at his place and he never questioned it. He went to your college and asked if anyone had seen you but they all said they didn’t know anyone by the name of (Y/n) who went there. Did you lie about where you went to school?
Yandere! Playboy who became depressed. He couldn’t find you anywhere. You had vanished, just like before. Except this time you never came back. His head was filled with questions. Where were you? Are you safe? Why did you leave him? Didn’t you love him too? He fell into despair. His parents wanted to help him and so did the friends he abandoned for you (they came back, he couldn’t understand why), but nothing they did helped. They weren’t you.
Please come back to him, he needs you.
————
A/n: for clarification, the girl in the beginning is reader’s friend.
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ldrfanatic · 1 year ago
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Oh Bella
Italian!Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader
synopsis - 3 times the reader teases Theo’s Italian roots + 1 time she celebrates them
cute, lazy fluff, no angst just happy vibes for a happy christmas :)
slytherin boys masterlist works
warning - internet translated Italian
(got these ideas from Ben and Fabio on instagram they’re so funny)
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It wasn’t easy to date Theodore Nott. It was always rewarding but it wasn’t always easy.
For starters, Theo grew up in Italy and has one of the thickest Italian accents you’ve ever heard. There were a few times over the course of your relationship that you had to ask him to repeat himself a few times. Like when he was trying to tell you that Draco had invited you out on a double date with himself and Hermione.
You had just woken up from a nap when Theo walked into the Slytherin common room after quidditch practice. He flashed you a breath taking smile and all but skipped up to you as you rubbed your tired eyes. You felt your heart melting in your chest at the sight of your adorable boyfriend.
“Buongiorno Bella.” (good morning beautiful) Theo swooped down and delivered a soft kiss to the side of your face before plopping down next to you on the couch. “Guess what?” You hummed in response as you snuggled deep into his side.
“What’s up Theo?”
“At quidditch practice today, Draco says that you and I, we can go out double with them.”
In your tired brain, Theo’s words made even less sense. You sat up from his side and stared at him with your brows furrowed. “Huh?” Theo stared blankly back at you. He brushed a piece of your hair away from your face.
“Still asleep, Bella?”
You shook your head lightly but it didn’t convince either of you entirely. A chuckle rumbled through Theo and his chest vibrated in laughter.
“Draco says we can go double out with Herminone.”
Now it was your turn to laugh at the way Theo pronounced Hermione’s name. You’d all been friends for about two years now since she and Draco had started dating, but he still couldn’t quite pronounce her name correctly.
Finally deciphering his thick accent and slightly broken, but still cute English, realization dawned upon you. You tried to smother a smile as you stared at your boyfriend in pure adoration. “You mean he invited us to double date with them?”
Theo looked at you for a few seconds before standing up and sighing a little dramatically.
“Mio dio Bella, that’s what I said”
“Mmm of course, Theo.”
So, dating Theodore Nott was not without its challenges. But it also wasn’t without its fun.
1.
It was Mattheo’s birthday so of course the Slytherin common room was filled to the brim with drugs, alcohol, and probably the sluttiest girls in all of Hogwarts. Theo was sitting at a table off in the corner with both of your guys’ drinks and was noticeably uncomfortable in such an environment.
You’d gone to get ice for your sex on the beach when you had a mischevious idea. You scooped a little more ice into the cup and started making your way back to Theo.
You caught sight of Mattheo what was sitting on one of the large couches dead center in the room. He had three girls all over him right now and Lorenzo was giggling uncontrollably as he passed him a joint. Mattheo caught your eye and winked playfully. He liked to flirt with you to rile Theo up a little bit every once in a while.
You finally made it back to your table where Theo was swirling a deep red wine in a glass. His lips quirked up in a small smile as you took your seat next to him. Without speaking, he reached out and pulled your chair impossibly closer to his before throwing an arm around your shoulders.
“Ciao Bella.”
Your entire body bloomed at the sound of his thick accent over his husky voice. Warmth settled over you like a fluffy blanket on a snowy morning.
“Ciao Theo.”
The surprise on Theo’s face was more than enough to make you happy that you’d taken up Italian recently. You practiced with Lorenzo in some of your free time and he was a pretty good teacher. You made eye contact with Theo and winked before settling into his side.
Theo immediately became suspicious as you were known for your antics.
“What are you up to Il mio piccolo piantagrane, hm?” (my little troublemaker)
“Nothing Theo, relax.”
He stared at you suspiciously for a few seconds before his body finally loosened.
The opportunity was too great to miss.
You leaned over both of your drinks and dumped ice into your sex on the beach before then dropping a few ice cubes into Theo’s wine.
His reaction was nearly instantaneous.
“Oh! Bella, no! No, no, no!” His lips turned up in disgust and multiple muted expressions left his mouth in what you assumed were Italian swears.
“Che diavolo? Ghiaccio nel vino? No! Il vino è sacro.”
(what the hell? ice in wine? no! wine is sacred.)
A large hand came and ran through his messy curls and the laugh you’d been surprising burst suddenly from your chest. Theo’s eyes snapped to yours and you recognized the mischievous glint.
A squeal left your mouth as you leapt up from your seat and took off around the common room with him hot on your tail.
2.
The second time that you decided to make your poor sweet Italian boyfriend question all decisions to be with you was at dinner one night. You weren’t intentionally teasing him at first as you stared down at your empty plate trying to think of what you wanted.
You glanced over to Theo’s plate next to you and saw a mouthwatering pasta that he’d conjured. You tugged gently on the sleeve of his green sweater and his attention found yours immediately.
“What’s wrong, bellissima?”
“Can you get me some of that, please Theo?”
“Of course.”
He took your plate in his hands and after a few seconds his dish was sitting in front of you. You noted how he made sure there were no tomatoes in yours like there were in his. Theo knew you hated tomatoes. It was so sweet it almost made you feel bad for what you were about to do to his little Italian heart.
Almost.
Theo picked up his fork and started to dig into his food before he stopped abruptly. Lorenzo too stopped eating his own food and the pair stared at you incredulously as you shoveled the pasta into your mouth.
“Oh Bella.”
He seemed more horrified than anything else. You loaded more food into your mouth being careful to eat as much as a lady as you could.
“No.” You stared at him blankly with a sheepish look before resuming your meal. “Bella, no. Twirl. Like this,” Theo picked up his fork and expertly swirled the noodles around before bringing it up to his mouth.
You offered him a gentle grin before promptly resuming what you were doing before. From across the table Lorenzo started whisper screaming at Theo in Italian.
“Theo, Cosa c'è che non va nella tua ragazza? Lei mangia la pasta come una bambina!” (what’s wrong with your girlfriend? she eats pasta like a child!)
Theo stared at you astounded as redness crept up his face. Then it finally dawned on him that you were teasing.
“Bella per favoreee.” He dragged out his words with a small smile on his face at your teasing. You both knew that you knew the proper way to eat pasta.
“No more teasing love.” You nodded through your giggles and Theo wrapped a thick arm around your waist and pulled you into his side.
3.
So, you knew that you promised Theo no more teasing last week but when you overheard him and Lorenzo complaining earlier in the most adorable stuttered English you couldn’t help yourself. You were walking down towards the common room to get lunch with the boys.
Theo, Lorenzo, and Mattheo were sitting in the common room all having a discussion. Suddenly you heard your boyfriend’s sweet Italian symphony of a voice shift into one of astonishment. You peeked around the corner and saw both him and Lorenzo staring at Mattheo like he’d just said the most offensive thing ever.
“What do you mean you have the cappuccino in the afternoon, huh?” His fingers came to rub at his temples and you had to stifle your laugh behind your hand. “Puah! cappuccino è solo per la mattina.” (Cappuccino is only for the morning).
Mattheo stared blankly at the two. Finally you decided to step in before the vein in Theo’s forehead burst.
“Theo? I’m ready.”
By the time that you made it to the Great Hall, the boys seemed to have forgotten about their earlier conversation. Mattheo walked quietly in step next to you while Theo and Lorenzo conversed in Italian so quickly your head was spinning.
“Psst. Y/n I have an idea on how to make that little Italian boy of yours blow a fuse.”
(“Maledizione Lorenzo, non credi che se sapessi cosa regalarle non andrei fuori di testa?”)
You cursed yourself that you couldn’t understand what they were saying. After staring at the side of Theo’s handsome face for a few moments longer you let out a disgruntled noise and turned to Mattheo.
“Fine! What?”
And that was how you found yourself in this situation.
Trying your absolute hardest to keep a straight face without looking at Theo at all while you sipped on your cappuccino that you’d conjured in your cup.
“Oh Bella.”
Theo’s familiar distressed tone rang out from next to you. “You cannot be series, amore mio.”
“Do you mean serious, Theo?” Mattheo chimed in with an amused smirk.
Theo made a dismissive Italian noise and waved Mattheo off. He swore under his breath before grabbing the side of your face and turning it to him. “Bellissima, it is too late for a cappuccino!”
You smirked up at your distraught boyfriend and pressed a quick kiss to the softness of his cheek. “I know, amore.”
Theo stared at you before throwing his hands up in the air and turning back towards his lunch. Mattheo’s deep laugh burst out and you couldn’t help yourself but to laugh along with him.
You were so busy laughing you hadn’t noticed that Theo was staring at you with a smile. He was so very in love with you.
+ one time you celebrated Theo’s Italian roots
April 25th was meant to be celebratory. La Festa della Resistenza. And Theodore Nott was stuck at quidditch practice.
Meanwhile, you were scurrying around the common room with Lorenzo trying to set up the perfect surprise for Theo. With Italy’s Liberation Day approaching, you’d noticed Theo had been a little down lately. You knew that it was because he was missing his family.
Normally, his mother would prepare a big feast and the family would sing the song of the resistance, Bella Ciao. You’d taken a floo to his home in Italy and gotten some recipes from his mother directly, all his favorites. And now, you were trying desperately to teach a group of first year Slytherins how to sing the song that you’d been practicing for weeks.
You sighed deeply as you realized the little buggers you bribed with a few galleons each were not at all going to get the song down in time. You conjured your purse and shelled out a few galleons to each child before shooing them out of the common room.
By the time Theo got back from quidditch practice, everything was perfect. You were standing in the center of the room in a deep red dress that you knew was his favorite. When he saw the spread, Theo thought his heart might stop. You looked nothing short of stunning.
“Oh Bella.”
It didn’t hold any of the distress that it normally did. This time his tone was thick with adoration. Theo felt a lump moving up his throat that caught tears behind his eyes. His heart clenched in his chest. This was one of the most thoughtful things that anyone had ever done for him.
Just when he was certain you couldn’t get anymore perfect, your sweet voice rang out in an impossibly beautiful symphony that rivaled Pavarotti.
“Una mattina mi sono alzato
O bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao, ciao, ciao
Una mattina mi sono alzato
E ho trovato l'invasor.”
Theo held you closer to his chest and pressed his forehead against yours as he joined for the next verse.
“O partigiano, portami via
O bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao, ciao, ciao
O partigiano, portami via
Che mi sento di morir.”
The two of you swayed as Lorenzo joined and the three of you sang the rest of the song together. When you finished, you all made plates and sat down in the common room.
“When did you learn all of this, Bella?”
You smiled gently at Theo while he stared at you like you were the most perfect being in the world.
“I took a trip to Italy to see your mother a little bit ago. She told me about La Festa della Resistenza the Celebration of the Resistance. She talked about how important it was to Italy’s history and that it marked the Resistance victory in the Italian Civil War. Then when I saw how sad you were to be away from home at this time I knew I had to do something.”
In that moment, Theo knew that there wasn’t anybody he’d ever loved as much as he loved you. He took your face in both of his hands and pressed a deep kiss to your lips.
“This is perfect, bellissima, thank you so much.”
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brokenmenswhore · 3 months ago
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idk if this is crazy but poly!maruraders x reader where r is blindfolded and she has to guess which of her bfs is fucking her
😃😃🥲🥲😞😞
oh it’s crazy but OH did you come to the right place for that
guess | poly!marauders
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pairing: poly!marauders x fem!reader (james, remus, and sirius)
warnings: smut (MDNI 18+)
a/n: you wanna guess the color of my underwear you wanna know what i got goin on down there
────── ☾ ──────
“You just tell us if anything becomes too much, alright?” James said, tying the silk fabric behind your head tight enough that it fully enveloped your eyes in darkness.
“Okay,” you said.
Remus bent forward in front of you, and you could feel his presence, but you weren’t sure exactly where he was.
“Can you see me?” he asked.
You nodded your head no. “Can’t see a thing.”
“Perfect,” Remus smiled, and you could hear the satisfaction in his voice, even if you couldn’t see him, “now remember the rules. If you guess who’s fucking you correctly, you get to come. Now, Sirius,” Remus turned toward his friend, “start it.”
Sirius lowered the needle onto the outer edge of the record, allowing the music to fill your ears to further deafen your senses.
You made yourself comfortable on the bed, laying back against the pillows as you breathed heavy in anticipation.
One of your boyfriends began to softly run his hands up your legs, stopping when he got to the tops of your thighs. They all wore gloves to eliminate the possibility of you recognizing their touch, and the cloth felt soothing against your skin.
You felt the bed dip between your legs as he wrapped his arms around your thighs, holding them open as he placed kisses on top of your folds.
You shuddered, instinctively trying to grab at his hair, but your unoccupied boyfriends held an arm each to ensure you wouldn’t get lost in the pleasure and slip up. If you could feel their hair, you would be able to tell exactly who it was.
He parted your folds with his tongue, gently circling your clit as you shifted your hips to silently beg for more.
The boy between your legs moved an arm to hold down your stomach as he picked up the pace, flicking your bud and sucking at your clit quickly.
“Fuck,” you sighed, lips parting as you couldn’t help but moan.
Just as he began to get you worked up, he slowed down again, intentionally throwing you off with his pacing so as not to give away which boyfriend of yours he was. They all had their specific techniques, and he didn’t want to risk giving himself away.
You were unable to move your hips underneath is tight grip, so you just whined in anticipation. Each time he quickened his pace, you began to whimper and moan as you got closer and closer to your climax, and right when the coil in your lower stomach began to tighten, he slowed back down and left you wet and needy again.
You felt a tap on your shoulder, signaling you to take your guess if you wanted to come.
One of your boyfriends stayed between your legs, tasting you excruciatingly slowly. You tried to rack your brain for how you felt, and which one of them could make you feel like this.
You figured it wasn’t James- he could hold you down much harder, and his eating out technique was not something he could easily hide. With respect to your other boyfriends, if this was James, you’d have come already.
It was a genuine 50/50 guess between Remus and Sirius.
“I- fuck, Remus?” you guessed.
The boy between your legs disconnected his lips from you, and you felt him leave the bed, your body shivering from the sudden cold air on your core.
“Not me, baby,” Remus said from next to you, dropping your wrists, “better luck next time.”
You wiggled your hips and pouted, “come on, this is no fair.”
“What’s no fair is you don’t appreciate the head I give you,” James chuckled.
You furrowed your brows in confusion, but it wasn’t like they could see it much. “That was you?” you asked.
“Mhm. You taste sweet today, baby.”
“But- but you-“
“Couldn’t give you the same head I always do, now could I? This game would be no fun,” James whispered, leaning down next to your ear and placing a kiss on your cheek.
James stood up, and you heard faint, distant whispering, but you couldn’t make out what anyone was saying.
You obnoxiously cleared your throat to remind the three boys that you were ready and waiting and anxious to come.
“Alright, angel, you want more?” James teased, and you nodded your head furiously as you felt one of the boys spread your legs open and settle down on the bed between them.
They all fell silent again, intent on not giving away who was about to fuck you.
The boy between your legs leaned over you, and you felt the bed dip next to your head where he placed his arm for leverage. He lined the tip of his cock up with your entrance, pushing only a little in before pulling back out and watching in amusement as you moaned in anticipation.
“Please,” you nearly whispered.
He so desperately wanted to make you suffer, wanted to taunt you, wanted to make you ask for what you wanted- but he couldn’t speak or you would immediately know who it was.
Instead, he just pushed the tip in again, stilling for a brief moment before pulling back out.
You writhed beneath him, nearly crying from need as you clenched around air.
The boy took pity on you, slamming his entire length into you and immediately fucking in and out of you. He knew that if he stilled his entire length inside of you, you may be able to identify him.
He wanted to take it slow and torture you, but he had to move fast enough that it wasn’t obvious who he was. Your three boyfriends were all different, and your body adjusted and reacted differently to each of them.
Your back arched as he continued to fuck into you, moans freely slipping from your lips as your body squeezed his cock in appreciation for the stimulation.
You tried not to lose yourself in the pleasure, but you were desperate to come. You knew the trouble you would be in if you did so without guessing correctly who was fucking you, so you tried your best to focus on figuring it out.
Each thrust of his hips hit your cervix, and though he was rough, he wasn’t fucking you so ridiculously hard that he had to put in any extra effort to hit your sweet spot. He could without trying.
Your thoughts went cloudy as he pounded into you harder, losing his self control as he fucked into you faster and faster. He was close to losing this game for you.
He wrapped his arm around your back, his gloved hand gripping your hip as he snapped his hips into you, the new lifted position causing him to bump your clit with each thrust.
You threw your head back as he became selfish, nearly forgetting about maintaining anonymity.
You felt the tap on your shoulder, and you couldn’t bring yourself to think about it. You said what felt right.
“S- Sirius,” you moaned.
Sirius leaned down, allowing his hair to fall in front of his face as he whispered in your ear, “good girl.”
The praise sent you over the edge, as did the confirmation that you had guessed correctly. You came hard, squeezing Sirius’s cock as your thighs shook around him.
He continued to fuck you through your high, chasing his own as you cried out at the overstimulation.
He groaned on your ear, leaning over you as he held your hips against his. With a final few harsh snaps of his hips, he came inside of you, moaning so low that only you could hear. The noises were meant for you and only you.
Sirius caught his breathing before guiding his cock out of you and gently placing your hips back down onto the mattress.
Remus, from beside you, untied your blindfold and removed it from your face. You blinked as your eyes adjusted to the unfamiliarity of the light.
“You have fun?” James teased.
“Mhm,” you vocalized, stretching your body out before leaning onto your side, “it was hot, but Remmy didn’t get a turn.”
Remus giggled at your pouting, “you rest for a little, and then I’ll take my turn, hm?”
You smiled as he placed a kiss on your nose, whispering, “except you’ll know it’s me, everyone will when they hear you.”
You playfully gasped as he smiled at you, standing tall and holding his hand out to you. “Let’s get you cleaned up before that though, yeah?”
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dorkszn · 4 months ago
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COME AND GET THAT + logan howlett
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SYNP — being home for the summer from school isn’t so bad. it isn’t so bad until your motorcycle stops working. and your dad tells you to call over the man that inspired you to get the bike in the first place and the closest one who could fix it, his best friend and your longtime crush, logan.
WARNINGS — masc reader, age gap ( no duh ), reader’s dad is kinda a dick, subbot reader, oral, petnames, logan’s a little mean, slight degradation, kitchen sex, hair pulling, eventual smut, porn with plot | 3.4K ( im sorry 😭 )
PART TWO ( coming soon )
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Summertime. It’s such a wonderful time. You get out of school and can drive back to your hometown. You see your parents and siblings and get to flop onto the mattress of your old childhood bedroom.
But your favorite part? Getting to see your dad’s best friend, Logan. Who seems only to be getting hotter and hotter with each passing year. Only maybe you’re just getting more worked up and shy with every year that passes because each summer you can barely stand to look him in the eye or be alone in a room with him.
You’ve been home for about a week or two by this point, getting back into the comfort and schedule of your hometown life. Luckily but also somehow unfortunately, you have yet to see Logan since you returned. Hell, he probably doesn’t even know you’re home.
So imagine your surprise when you’re standing outside of your parent’s house with your dad, examining your sleek motorcycle that just wouldn’t start. You know how to do basic motorcycle care that of course, Logan taught you. He was the one who inspired and motivated you to get the damn bike anyways. So why were you surprised when your dad suggested calling him?
“Guess I’ll give Logan a call and see if he’s busy. He should know how to fix it,” your father says in a small sigh as he stands up straight.
“Wait, call Logan?” You repeat even though you know it’s dumb question and that you were just nervous to see him again since winter break.
“Yeah, Logan, you got a problem with that or something, squirt?” Your father responds slightly mockingly as he repeats your obviously odd question. You just grumble slightly under your breath.
“No, dad, just… go ahead and call em’,” you say in a sigh as the two of you stalk back towards the house. After that, it only takes half an hour before the inevitable and you see that familiar pickup pull into your driveway.
You reluctantly trail behind your dad like a clingy pup instead of a grown man to go greet Logan. You don’t miss the way he smirks with his signature cigar between his lips as he very slowly drags his eyes on your body.
“And when was I gonna find out my favorite college kid was home?” Logan asks gruffly, plucking the cigar from his lips with an outlet of smoke. His voice damn near sends shivers down your spine everytime you hear it.
You just opt for shrugging and giving him a casual smile. “Find out when you find out, I guess,” you say and of course, he lets out that little chuckle and snort that you love so much.
Logan puts his calloused, large hand out for you to greet him correctly only for him to grab your hand and pull you into him. You can’t help the small, very unmanly yelp that leaves you when he grabs you so suddenly. The smell of him hitting you so quick it damn near makes your mind spin. Cigars and ash and wood and leather and just him. Gosh, it almost drives you so crazy you barely notice the light headlock he put you in.
When you do finally notice, it definitely does not help the flare of heat in the pit of your stomach. You try to brush it off, tugging at his incredibly strong and veiny biceps with a small grin to pry him off of you. Finally, he releases you and you can’t help but take in a relieved breath.
“Still as much of a little shit as ever, kid,” Logan taunts, placing his cigar back between his lips. Lips that you wanted to feel on yours so bad. “You sure you ain’t getting smaller with each year?”
You roll your eyes for the second time that night. He knew you weren’t getting smaller. It just seemed like he was getting bigger even at his grown age. And damn, is he big. 6 feet 2 inches and 205 pounds of pure muscle. “Yeah, I’m sure, Logan,” you end up mumbling in response as you stuff your hands in your pockets.
Logan just chuckles again. “Yeah, okay,” he responds sarcastically. With another puff of smoke, he looks to your father then your bike. “So, what’s the problem, Bub?” He inquires.
You trail your father as he walks Logan over to your motorcycle. The same model he recommended years ago. You barely listen as your father explains the situation to his best friend, your eyes stuck to the man in the red flannel.
“Looks like you just need an oil change, kid. And your fuel filters clogged,” Logan says in a small grunt as he stands from his kneeling position next to your bike.
“Damn, squirt, you can’t tell when you need an oil change?” Your dad questions, pinching the bridge of his nose. You frown slightly and your brows furrow.
“I just didn’t notice, okay?” You grumble in reply.
Your father sighs before looking back at Logan. “Could ya fix it, Howlett?” Your father questions, folding his arms over his chest.
“Oh yeah, could change the oil if the kid wants. The fuel filter, on the other hand, you’re gonna have to replace the part. I’m assuming you don’t just got one layin’ around here,” Logan explains and he dusts his palms off.
“Perfect. Time for the kid to learn to do something for himself,” your father says with a grin of mock-approval. Oh, how you wish your mother was here instead. Logan just lets out a small chuckle that seems just a little bit forced. “Well, I gotta head off to work. Help Logan out, will ya? Get him whatever he needs or asks for.” Your father sighs to you.
He’s going to leave? The two of you? Alone? Does he actually want you to pass away? “Yeah, dad, I got it,” you say to cover up the way your heart almost immediately started racing. Then it was only minutes later before you were watching your father pull out of your driveway and zip down the street, leaving just you and Logan.
Logan turns to you and damn you could almost feel the way he looked at you. You nervously pull your eyes away from the street and to Logan who offers you his usual smirk when you look at him. “Get me your old man’s box, will ya?” He requests.
“Yeah, sure,” you murmur before turning and walking back towards the house to get your dad’s toolbox. And are you being paranoid or is he definitely watching you walk away?
You eventually come back with your dad’s toolbox in hand. Logan turns to you when he hears your footsteps despite them being damn near silent. He’s always so astute and aware. It scares you and somehow turns you on at the same time.
“Atta boy,” Logan says as he takes the box from you and holds it like it weighs nothing more than a bottle of water. “Thanks, kid.”
Atta boy. Gosh, what would you give to hear him say that again. “Yeah, no problem,” you respond. You can’t help but watch him for a few minutes before turning and walking back towards the house. Your father would definitely force you to stay and watch Logan so you could “actually do something right.” But thankfully and also unfortunately, he isn’t there and Logan could care less.
And for the next 45 minutes, you spend your time inside trying to distract yourself from the man outside. The man you were home alone with. You leave the door ajar just in case he needs anything which of course he doesn’t. He’s just that good, right?
You lean against your kitchen counter, feeding your cat, James, a blonde cat who is somehow more accident prone than you are, blueberries. Your mind is practically running on autopilot out of boredom. But you’re acutely aware of the sound of the front door opening and shutting. As well as the heavy footsteps coming towards the kitchen.
Logan turns the corner, his flannel gone, leaving him in just a tanktop and jeans. A tanktop that practically put all of him on display. The muscles and veins in his arms, the firmness of his chest. Specifically that vein on his right biceps that runs all the way down to his forearm.
There’s a few oil marks staining his skin, on his neck and arms and chest. A little on his cheek. How the hell did he get that dirty? Hell, not like you’d know. You hardly touch the inside of that motorcycle, willingly.
His dog tags hanging perfectly in between his pecs. How you would love to trade places with those things right now. “S’all done, Bub,” Logan tells you as he steps further into the kitchen.
“Right, yeah, thanks,” you say, reluctantly stopping your ogling to grab him a water from the fridge. Logan flicks his hands as he finishes washing them and takes the water from you. He leans against the counter across from you.
“How’s college treatin’ ya?” He inquires, watching as you feed James another piece of fruit.
“It’s okay, nothing special. I mean don’t get me wrong, it’s a nice school but it’s not like it’s Ivy League or anything,” you answer in a small shrug as you pop a blueberry into your own mouth. Logan can’t help but watch your lips and throat as you do so. His eyes shamelessly trained on you.
“Well atleast you got somethin’ going for ya,” Logan murmurs, finally looking away as he folds his arms over his chest. “Got a boyfriend waiting there too?” He asks. You give him a look. He chuckles. “Or a girlfriend.” Logan adds.
You just roll your eyes which contrasts the smile on your face. “Answers no to both,” you answer, watching James pluck the blueberry from your fingers. And Logan feels a little too happy to see that little smile on your face again.
“Really?” Logan replies, raising a brow in response. “Those little college kids to stupid to see what’s in front of em’ or something?”
You look over to him and see his little eyebrow raise, a quiet snort leaving you. “I don’t know. I just don’t talk to people like that. Hard to be seen when you’re acting invisible, y’know?” You say nonchalantly.
“Gotta put yourself out there one day, Bub,” Logan sighs. “Can’t keep comin’ back to this place and just hoping for it.” You watch him as he speaks and you can’t help the way your eyes repeatedly drop down to the soot on his muscles. You gotta get those stains off before you go nuts.
“It’s more of a choice than anything,” you tell him as you turn and grab a clean rag from one of the lower cabinets. Logan’s sharp eyes follow you as you move around the kitchen. “People there just don’t really “impress” me.” You add as you wet the rag with warm water.
“Oh, boys there ain’t good enough for you, huh?” Logan questions teasingly, that grin returning to his face. You step in front of him and hold out the damp rag to him. Logan silently gestures to his skin in response.
You swallow and suddenly, your heart is beating a million beats a minute. Your eyes fall from his to his chest and neck as you slowly reach the rag to his skin. “Nah,” you finally answer lowly as you begin to gently scrub at his skin. “All the way in university and still ain’t mature enough.” You mutter, watching the oil stains fade away under the rag.
Logan’s eyes are low as he looks down at you, his eyes trained on your face and lips as you speak and wipe him down. “Oh right, not mature enough f’ya,” Logan murmurs. “Need an older guy to take care of you… don’t ya?”
Your hand pauses on his chest and your eyes move back up to his. A swirl of desire and need mixing in his dark eyes. His gaze alone almost makes you shutter. “Yeah… think I do,” I say in a slightly hoarse whisper.
Not knowing what else to do, you let out a barely there breath and raise the rag, going to swipe at some of the stains on his cheeks. Your heart almost stops in your chest when he grabs your wrist instead. His other hand comes up to grab your jaw, forcing you to keep your eyes on him.
“And what would your old man think about that, huh?” Logan questions lowly, his breath fanning your lips. You part your lips to answer but your words get caught in Logan’s rough lips. Your whole body tenses up for a moment before immediately melting into him.
You let him hold you, you let him push you back into the other counter behind you. You let him slip his tongue into your mouth, the taste of his earlier cigar still lingering. But it only serves to make you weaker. You groan into his mouth as his large hand suddenly slips from your wrist to your crotch, squeezing you through your sweatpants.
“School got you all pent up, yeah?” Logan asks in a huff of a breath as he just barely pulls away from your lips. Once again, he steals your lips before you can answer. Palming you through your sweatpants while his tongue explores every inch of your mouth.
He’s not wrong. It’s been just you and your hand for months now. And somehow Logan just barely touching you through your sweats is better than any night of you fucking your fist.
You can’t help but whine into his mouth when he pulls away, his hand running over your hips and waist instead. But the feeling of him pressing himself against you in his jeans quickly silences your whines. His half-erect cock grinding against your as he rolls his hips. Logan pulls back in a low groan, a thin shiny string of saliva connecting your kiss-swollen lips.
“Been thinking ‘bout you since winter, Bub. Y’know that? Pretty ass been on my mind for fucking months,” Logan says to you in a heavy breath as he swipes his thumb over your bottom lip. You just look up at him, still in slight shock at it all but your mind falling prey to the pleasure and want.
“What? You wanna do something about that?” You question quietly, your voice not matching your smug and suggestive words.
Logan smirks down at you a bit. “Damn right,” he answers, his hand on your chin shifting to your hair as he grabs a fistful of it and tilts your head to the side. His hips rolling against your again as he sinks his teeth into neck. His name falling from your lips in a whimper.
Your hand subconsciously falls to his belt, weakly trying to still his hips against yours which of course doesn’t work. Logan pulls his teeth from your neck while simultaneously guiding your hand down from his belt to the growing bulge in his jeans.
“Feel that, pretty boy? Feel what you’re doing t’me?” Logan mutters against your bruising skin. And you do feel him. A lot of him. It made you lose your breath further while shooting sparks of further arousal to your gut. “Wanna help me out, Bub? Little favor for changin’ your oil?” He requests as he sucks at your flesh, hungrily and greedily.
You move almost immediately to your knees. Breath shaking as he backs up just a bit to look down at you. A devilish grin covering his face. “Well, aren’t you just an obedient little thing,” he comments as one of his hands finds his belt, the other still in your hair.
Your heart pounding in your ears as you watch his belt unbuckle, as he unbuttons his jeans and zips them down. Your mouth damn-near watering as he tugs down his pants and boxers just enough for his dick to spring free. And oh, your jaw is going to be aching for hours.
“Look at you, all cock-thirsty. Nobody been givin’ you any attention, huh?” Logan says as he pumps himself a few times, gently guiding your head to his already leaking tip. He doesn’t have to ask before you part your lips. Maybe it was a little pathetic how quickly you dropped for him. But you couldn’t care less at the moment.
You let him sit himself on your tongue and he just basks in the view. A bit of his pre dripping onto the pink muscle. That sight alone pushed him further, pushing his hips forward until he was almost buried in your throat to the hilt. “Damn, pretty boy, you done this before or something?” Logan groans before he’s moving.
His hand in your hair keeping your head still as he begins fucking your throat. You try to keep the tears from glossing up in your eyes as he hits the back of your throat but you can’t. He doesn’t mind.
“Fuck, how has nobody claimed this perfect throat yet? Taking me so fucking well,” Logan grunts, staring right down into your glossy eyes. You let out a choked whimper around him in reply, the vibrations of the sound going straight to Logan’s cock, making his eyes fall shut as he sucks in a sharp breath. “Right, can’t answer with your mouth full of dick, can you?”
Another muffled whimper which results in him tugging on your hair. “Guess your old man was wrong, huh?” Logan pants over the sound of his balls lewdly hitting your chin, a mix of his pre and your own drool slicking the skin. “You did learn to do somethin’ useful. Damn good cock-sucker.”
Your hands hold onto his thighs as he repeatedly stuffs your face to the hilt, his fat tip kissing the back of your throat. Your nails dig into his skin through his jeans only for his eyes to roll in response. A hoarse and gruff “oh fuck” slipping through his teeth. “Been doing this for those college boys? That how you brought your little grade back up?” Logan questions roughly as he looks down to you.
Such a pretty sight you are. Eyes watering, lashes glistening, mouth full, and your lips a wet mess of your fluids.
“Mmm,” your denial doesn’t leave as words, just muffled choked sounds. A small smirk grows on Logan’s face.
“No? Ain’t that a shocker. You’d— shit— you’d make some good fucking money. Sucking cock for cash, clearly doesn't take much to get you to anyways,” Logan says, almost taunting you with his words. Taunting how fast you got on your knees for him.
You can only respond by pressing your tongue flaccid against his cock, feeling his veins pulse over the muscle. Only for him to tug on your hair when you swirl your tongue over his tip. “Fine by me,” Logan says, his voice breaking into a breathy moan. “Pretty little throat is all mine.”
You feel your own hard-on twitch in your pants at that. The idea of being all his. Even if it’s just for the summers and winters. Logan doesn’t miss the way you take him in more greedily, the way you keep letting him glide across your tongue, the way your breathing just barely steadies when you finally find a rhythm.
“Yeah? You like that idea, Bub? Being all mine?” Logan says strained, the snap of his hips growing sloppy and stuttering. All you can do is let out a muffled groan around him, staring up at him with your big eyes as the tears finally slip over. They only worsen their streams as Logan pushes your head down, giving you hardly any room to breathe as his cock twitches and he cums down your throat.
He doesn’t let you go until you’re digging your nails into his thighs again and he finally lets go of your hair. You pull away and practically gasp for the breath you lost. Coughing and heaving and sniffling as dribbles of his release rolling down your chin, followed by your tears.
“You okay down there, Bub? Too much?” Logan asks as he chases his own breath.
“No, no, i—i'm okay,” you manage to get out as you wipe at the tears and your slick chin. Logan’s low eyes drop to the tent in your sweatpants between your legs. His eyes then pull back up to yours.
“What time does your old man get off?”
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gyeomsweetgyeom · 3 months ago
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can i request a jaehyun drabble with jaehyun doing acts of service😭 like peeling shrimp for mc🥹🥹 thank you!
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
Being with Jaehyun made you less aware of the many little duties and chores that had been lifted off your shoulders. It had started a few years ago, on one of your dates a few months in, you had both taken a love language quiz. You had gotten acts of service, Jaehyun had gotten physical touch.
It had been a couple years since you took the test, but never had a chance to look back and reflect until one of your friends mentioned how much Jaehyun did for you. Did he really? Incorporating physical touches for Jaehyun just comes so naturally that you might have forgotten the results of the test all those years ago.
"Of course he does! I joined you two for dinner a few weeks ago and he peeled your shrimp for you!" One of your friends points out.
"And he makes you your coffee just the way you like it every single morning and takes your car to get the oil changed," another friend adds.
"You don't even take out your own trash," your first friend adds again.
You cross your arms, "you guys make it sound like it's a bad thing that he does things for me."
"But what do you do for him?"
That question remains in your head even as you and Jaehyun watch TV later on in the night. He's placed a bowl of ice cream in front of you, studying you as you stare blankly at the screen, lost in thought.
"Baby, what's wrong?" Jaehyun asks softly, allowing you to subconsciously intertwine your fingers together.
You hum, mulling over your words before speaking. "My friends told me that you do too much for me. Like things I should do myself, and I guess I've never noticed. You don't have to do so much for me. Sorry, I never noticed."
Your thumb has been rubbing nervous circles on the back of Jaehyun's hand which brings a smile to his face, "I do those things because I want to. I like doing things for you."
"But why? I can do things for myself, you know?"
"Of course you can, baby. Your love language is acts of service so it makes me feel happy that you feel loved when I do things for you. I like to make your life easier in any way that I can. It's just like you make me feel loved with physical touch."
Your eyes widen as you seem to suddenly realize your hand in Jaehyun's and how you've cuddled up to his side, "you remember the love language test I made you take?"
"I remember everything about you."
You feel your heart melt as you surge forward and pepper half his face with kisses. He laughs heartily, until you press a final kiss to the apple of his cheek, "that was really, really cute of you. I love you for remembering, but... if I remember correctly, didn't you forget our anniversary this year?"
"Oh my god!" he groans, "you woke me up and I was startled so I asked what day it was! That's not me forgetting! That was me being confused after you woke me up against my will!"
"Whatever! Tell me you love me back!"
"You know I love you back, baby. I love you, even though you know... right?"
You take a bite from your slightly melted ice cream, "of course I know, you spoil me."
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reidmania · 3 months ago
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hi i saw you take requests… could you write about established relationship reid and reader fluff for like a party or gathering where she sneaks behind his back and puts hands over his eyes whispering “guess who?” and like really lovey dovey?? please
guess who | s.reid
summary; after spencer was away for a few days, you get to see him again when he asks you to come to a afterwork gathering at rossi’s.
warnings; fem reader, literally none?? pure fluff, establishment relationships
an; im so sorry this took so long!!
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The room hums with the gentle murmur of conversation, laughter threading its way between clusters of people. Soft lighting casts a golden glow over everything, making the gathering feel intimate, warm despite the autumn chill outside. You drift through the space, greeting old friends and acquaintances, your eyes always searching for one person: Spencer.
He’s on the other side of the room, deep in conversation as usual, the serious expression you’ve come to adore furrowing his brow. He’s talking animatedly with some colleagues, but your mind isn’t on what he’s saying. Your lips curl into a smile as you think of a playful idea, something to surprise him. The excitement of seeing him after the long week bubbles up inside you, making your heart flutter.
You weave through the room with practiced ease, avoiding spilling anyone’s drink as you maneuver behind him. The laughter around you fades into the background. You’re close enough now to smell the familiar scent of him—clean, a hint of his cologne, and something uniquely Spencer.
Your fingers twitch, and without a second thought, you gently place your hands over his eyes. He stiffens for the briefest second before your voice reaches his ears. “Guess who?”
The words are soft, whispered just beside his ear, playful but tender. You feel his body relax beneath your touch, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips even though you can’t see it. You know him too well, the way his shoulders lose their tension when he’s with you, how he tilts his head slightly, leaning into your presence.
“Hmm…” His voice is a low, thoughtful hum. “Well, considering the overwhelming amount of literature and research on tactile memory and voice recognition, I’d say my chances of guessing correctly are quite high.” He pauses dramatically, and you can practically hear the smirk in his tone. “But I’d rather play along. Is it…Einstein?”
You laugh softly, pulling your hands away but keeping close, standing right behind him as he turns to face you. There’s a spark of something mischievous in his hazel eyes, but it quickly melts into something much softer, something meant just for you. His lips quirk up, that smile you’ve always adored.
“Nope. Not even close,” you tease, sliding your hands down to rest lightly on his arms.
His grin widens as he looks down at you, tilting his head as though he’s examining you for the first time. “Well, I guess I’m terrible at this game.”
You roll your eyes, tugging him a little closer by the sleeves of his shirt. “You knew it was me the whole time.”
He chuckles, a sound that vibrates through his chest and warms you from the inside out. “Maybe,” he concedes, his hands gently settling on your waist. His touch is light, casual in the way of someone completely comfortable with you, and yet there’s always a certain reverence in how he holds you, like he’s afraid you might slip away if he doesn’t keep his grip just right.
You sway slightly, the distant sound of music filtering through the room. It’s not the kind of party where people dance, but with Spencer, you can turn any moment into something more, something that belongs only to the two of you. You smile up at him, enjoying the way his eyes linger on your face, like you’re the only person in the world who matters right now.
“So,” he says, his voice soft but tinged with amusement, “having fun sneaking up on me?”
You shrug playfully. “It’s one of my favorite pastimes. I have to keep you on your toes, Dr. Reid.”
His smile softens into something more affectionate. “You’re the only one who could.”
For a moment, the world around you seems to fade. It’s just the two of you, standing in the middle of a crowded room, but completely absorbed in your own little bubble. The laughter and chatter around you are nothing more than a distant hum, the soft light casting a gentle glow over the sharp lines of his face, softening his features in the way that makes your heart skip a beat.
You lean into him, resting your head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear. His arms wrap around you, pulling you closer in a quiet, protective gesture. The scent of him, the feel of him, it’s all so familiar, so comforting.
“I missed you this week,” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the ambient noise.
He tightens his hold just slightly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “I missed you too. It’s always too long, even when it’s only a few days.”
You close your eyes, letting yourself sink into the moment. There’s something about being with Spencer that always makes you feel like everything else fades away. The worries, the stress, the noise of the outside world—it all disappears when you’re here, in his arms, wrapped up in the quiet certainty that he’s yours and you’re his.
He shifts slightly, leaning back to look down at you. “I was actually thinking about sneaking up on you,” he says, his voice playful, “but I’m not sure I could pull it off as well as you.”
You laugh, shaking your head. “I don’t think you have it in you, Spencer. You’re too…earnest.”
“Too earnest?” He raises an eyebrow, pretending to be offended.
You nod, your smile widening. “Yes. You’re terrible at sneaking. You’d give yourself away in two seconds.”
He hums thoughtfully. “I’m not sure that’s true. But I think I’ll leave the sneaking to you, then.”
You grin, leaning up on your toes to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “Good choice.”
He smiles down at you, that gentle, loving expression that never fails to make your heart melt. “I’m glad you’re here,” he says quietly, his voice sincere in the way only Spencer can manage.
“Me too,” you reply softly, feeling the weight of the words settle between you.
And in that moment, with his arms wrapped around you and the world spinning on outside, you realize just how deeply you’ve fallen for him.
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seokgyuu · 1 year ago
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There is nothing worse than wanting what isn't yours. Sunghoon is your roommates boyfriend. He is also the one thing occupying your mind ever since you first laid eyes on him. And never would you have guessed that the feeling is mutual.
Pairing: Sunghoon x Fem!Reader (minor Jake x Fem!Reader)
Contents: Cheating!! I don't condone cheating in real life, but decided to have this be the main theme of this story, work of fiction!! be warned!, jake plays a big part, calls reader pretty girl, roommate is named yeri but pls don't picture rv yeri thats my baby ok? SMUT! MDNI
Smut Warnings: making out, dirty talk, usage of the words "sweetheart, "baby", "princess", "good girl", fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it friends), creampie
wc: 3.7k
a/n: i know i said my first ever enha fic would be the heejayhoon fic but... here we are now. sunghoon has been on my mind too much and he needed to be let out, ok!! pls don't cheat on your partner ok, sunghoon is not doing things correctly here but oh well, what can we do. thanks for reading <3
It’s not fair, you think. How she gets to sit on his lap, how she gets to run her fingers through his hair. How right now his hands are on her hips and how he holds her so close to his body, his eyes following her every word. You wish you could tell him. How she has been seeing this other guy behind his back. Nothing physical, you think, but still. You wish you could go up and tell him she’s not being entirely faithful. But you can’t. It’s not fair. 
She says something and he laughs and you finally turn away to grab the drink Jungwon has poured you ages ago. He is too busy talking to a girl you don’t know to notice you haven’t even taken the cup. You bring it to your lips, letting all of its contents run down your throat in one go. Maybe getting drunk is the only way you’ll survive this stupid ass party you didn’t even want to host in the first place. 
“Slow down, pretty girl,” you suddenly hear a voice next to you and you almost choke. It’s Jake Sim, his best friend. 
“What?” You put the cup back down and look at him with one brow raised. Jake chuckles, pushing a hand through his soft looking black hair.
“There is enough alcohol for everyone, no need to drown it all in one go.”
“Maybe I want to.” You challenge him with your eyes and he takes the hint, smirking as he grabs the bottle of vodka that's standing on the counter. 
“I got you, pretty girl.”
Talking to Jake is fun. He is fun. He is also handsy. After five minutes of talking, he has his hand on your thigh, looking at you attentively as you tell him some story about you in middle school. You’re feeling hot all over, but it’s not because of Jake or his hand or the way he looks at you. It’s because of how he is looking over.
Park Sunghoon. Still with your horrible roommate on his lap, with his hands still on her waist, with her mouth so close to his ear you’re sure she’s saying the dirtiest things to him right now. But he is looking at you. 
“How do you know Yeri?” Jake asks then, bringing you back. 
“She’s my roommate,” you explain and take a sip from the drink Jake mixed for you earlier. His eyebrows shoot up.
“Oh! You are her roommate!” He grins, “I knew you looked familiar.”
“I did?” You wouldn’t have bet on Jake knowing who you are as much as you wouldn’t have bet on Sunghoon visibly being bothered by you talking to his best friend. 
“Yeah. Sunghoon mentioned you before. Showed me your insta.” You can’t hide the surprise on your face.
“He did?” Jake chuckles again, leaning forward, his mouth almost as close to your ear as Yeri’s to Sunghoon’s. 
“He mentioned you’re not that talkative. He also mentioned you like to look at him. And you know what I think? He enjoys it when you do.” 
You hate your treacherous heart for beginning to beat quicker. Why would Jake say that? Wasn’t he hitting on you? Mentioning what Sunghoon liked or didn’t like - wasn’t this… counterproductive? 
“Why- why would you tell me this?” You finally ask back, looking at Jake with wide eyes. 
“Because,” he begins to explain, his hand wandering further up your thigh, making you gasp, “because I know that he likes looking at you, too. And I never liked Yeri. You seem much nicer than her.”
His breath is still hitting your neck. His touch is soft and while it should probably feel more sensual, it doesn’t. You realize his plan, realize that he is doing this because he knows Sunghoon is watching and you feel your cheeks heat up. 
“If you let me kiss you now, he will for sure come find you later.”
In retrospect - maybe it was a bit naive of you to just let him kiss you. Or well, for you to kiss him as a response. He could have played with you, could have used the knowledge that you wanted Sunghoon to his benefit. Something about him, though, made you feel like you could trust him.
Jake is a good kisser. He knows where to put his hands and how to suck on your tongue in a way that doesn't feel like too much. He knows how to turn his head and how to make you crave more, knows exactly how to make it look believable - so believable, Sunghoon can’t concentrate on Yeri on his lap anymore, on how she kisses his neck and whispers things into his ear he’d normally eat up, things he would normally be excited to hear. 
It’s not fair, he thinks. He’s not being fair. This has been going on for way too long. At this point he should just break up with Yeri as he had planned months ago. But he’s just a weak man and Yeri knows him too well. She’s not a good girlfriend and he’s not a good boyfriend, but never would he ever cheat on her. Or so he would like to think. Because right now? Looking at you on the other side of the room, your hands buried in Jake’s hair and his hand on your thigh, so far up it’s almost underneath your god forsaken skirt - he wants nothing more than to drag you into your bedroom and show you he’s better than Jake. 
The thought scares him enough to stop Yeri in her motion and excuse himself to go to the bathroom. 
“Wanna meet me in my room in five?” Yeri giggles in his ear when she’s off his lap and Sunghoon tightens his jaw. 
“I think you should entertain your guests a little more before you leave to your bedroom.”
Yeri pouts up at him when he gets up.
“But Hoonie…,” he knows her antics, he knows them well enough, probably better than anyone. What normally would have worked right away, doesn’t this time. He shakes his head and just walks off, making a pit-stop in the kitchen to get some more alcohol in his system to survive the night. 
-
Sunghoon knew it was bad, he was bad, when he walked into you in nothing but a short towel wrapped around your body two months ago. It had been totally out of his control - the way his body reacted to see you in your almost naked form, water dripping from your hair onto your shoulder, over your collarbone and down your chest. You suddenly became so much more than before. He had found you cute before. Cute and funny and nice. Never had he seen you as anything but his girlfriend’s roommate. You and Yeri weren’t even really friends, more like in need of each other. Yeri’s old roommate had moved in with her girlfriend and so the room became vacant. You were the first one to apply and stayed. This had been six months ago.
And now? Now Sunghoon feels more drawn to you than he had ever felt to Yeri and it drives him crazy. That is why he is drowning two shots of tequila in the kitchen with Jay and Jungwon and that is why he practically hides behind the door frame to watch you and Jake make out. He knows it’s not fair to be jealous. He also knows he probably shouldn’t watch the way Jake is kissing you, the way you are kissing Jake, because all it does is make his body burn. 
He finds himself wondering what you taste like. If you like the way Jake tastes. He’s pathetic. Pathetic and a horrible boyfriend. Sighing, he finally moves to the bathroom, glad to see there is only a small line he has to wait in. Crossing his arms, he leans against the wall, trying to forget the visual of you and Jake but failing miserably. Maybe he should have told Yeri to meet him in her bedroom after all. He could have taken his pathetic jealousy out on her. Just fuck her until he forgot. Imagine it was you instead. 
“Jesus, look at those two,” a voice rips Sunghoon out of his thoughts and he turns his head - immediately regretting his decision. 
It’s Jake and you and he has you pushed against the wall right next to the kitchen, kissing you hard and you kiss him back, hands on his nape and Sunghoon feels like the universe is out to get him tonight. Why the fuck would you follow him outside? Why couldn’t you have stayed in the living room, why-
He stands up straight again. 
You followed him outside. You are making sure he sees you. 
Sunghoon doesn’t have a coherent thought left in his brain. His legs carry him to you and Jake, squeezing through people he doesn’t know and then he is right there, his hand landing on Jake’s shoulder, squeezing hard.
“Heeseung is looking for you.” He says with a blank face and Jake parts from you, needing a few seconds to realize what’s going on. The moment he recognizes Sunghoon, he has to try really hard to suppress a smug smile.
“And that can’t wait? Kinda busy here, mate,” Jake raises his brows. Sunghoon’s jaw tightens once more.
“No. Said it was urgent. Better look for him.”
The apartment isn’t that big. There is a kitchen that’s separate from the living room that does house a good number of people. Jake has just seen Heeseung there. Talking to some red-head and most definitely not looking for him. Grinning after all, Jake nods and turns his head to wink at you quickly before finally taking off. 
“So,” Sunghoon starts, eyes traveling from the back of Jake’s head to you, “Jake, huh?” 
There is no chance in hell you can respond to him. In all honesty, you hadn’t really believed Jake’s plan would work out. Sunghoon getting jealous and stopping you from making out? When Yeri is right there? It seemed absurd. Apparently, though, it wasn’t. 
The surprise on your face is clear as day and Sunghoon scoffs, shaking his head.
“Is this how you want to get my attention, sweetheart? By making out with my best friend?”
Sweetheart. 
“I- I didn’t-,” it’s no use. Both of you know exactly why you had kissed Jake, why you had followed him into the hallway. 
“You didn’t, hm? Didn’t mean to kiss Jake? Didn’t kiss him just to make me jealous? Or what?” 
He’s so close to you now. Too close, if you think about it. What if someone sees you? Sees your roommate's boyfriend this close to you at her own party? 
“Sunghoon, I really don’t-,” you try again, but this time Sunghoon’s hands grab your waist as he pushes himself closer to you, your breath hatching in your throat.
“Don’t lie to me, princess. I can see it in your eyes. Fuck, I can see it in your eyes everytime I’m around. You want me, just admit it.”
Your skin is burning where he is touching you. His eyes are staring into yours and you wish with all of your being he wasn’t who he was. 
“I can’t. I- I don’t want you, Sunghoon, you’re not mine to want.”
Your words reach his ears but they don’t make sense even though they should. Looking around, Sunghoon grabs your wrist and drags you to your bedroom, holding out his hand.
“Keys, I know you locked it.”
You stare up at him, lips trembling, knowing better than to give in. 
“Sunghoon-,”
“Give me the keys, Y/N.”
The way he says your name has your knees growing weak. Swallowing, you let your hand slip into the pocket of your sweater, handing the waiting man what he had asked for. 
Without a word Sunghoon unlocks and opens the door, pulling you inside behind him, hoping to god no one paid you any mind. Once the door behind you shuts, you feel your back hit it, feel Sunghoon’s breath on your face, his hands back on your hips, the look in his eyes wild and angry and so full of want it almost causes you to whimper. 
“Do you want me to be yours to want?” He asks with a raspy voice and his fingers dig into your flesh. 
“Does it matter?” You reply quietly. 
“If it didn’t I wouldn’t ask you, sweetheart.”
“Stop calling me that.” You immediately say, your thighs pressing together traitorously. Sunghoon catches your movement and he lets out a breath.
“Why? You like it?” 
He is so close to you. So fucking close. You could count every single mole and freckle on his face if only you had the strength to look at him for longer than two seconds.
“Sunghoon, please. Y-You’re Yeri’s boyfriend.”
“That doesn’t stop you from staring at me whenever I’m here, does it?” It’s wrong. He knows it and so do you, but it just feels too good. His hand moves from your waist down, sliding in between your thighs to part them. You gasp, eyes widening when you feel his fingers trailing up your thigh.
“I- I am not- I would never, Sunghoon!” 
It’s a light touch, but it’s right there on that one sensitive spot on your inner thigh. Sunghoon bathes in the way you look, the way your breath hitches when he touches you.
“Yeah? What was that, baby?”
“‘Am not staring at you!” You try to shoot daggers at him through your eyes, but all that reaches him are silent pleas to touch you more. 
“Is that right?” Sunghoon leans forward, his free hand now cupping your cheek, thumb softly caressing your face.
“Not staring at me, hm? Not wishing it was you on my lap instead of Yeri, no?”
“No! Of course not, I-,” you gasp again when he moves his hand further up.
“Stop lying to me, baby. Please, I need you to be honest, need you to tell me how much you want me.”
His voice is deep and his begging almost brings you to your knees. While the rational part of you tells you to push him away, the irrational part tells you to stay right where you are.
“I- what about Yeri, Sunghoon?” Your hands find place on his chest and he bites down on his lip, softly shaking his head.
“I’ll break up with her. I promise, princess. I just need you to tell me exactly what’s on your mind, please?”
I’ll break up with her, the words echo in your head over and over. You should think about this more, you know you should. And yet… 
“You- You are, Hoon, you are always on my mind.”
“Fuck, princess, tell me more. What am I doing in your mind?” His nose touches yours and the hand that was on your cheek moves down to your neck, a shiver running down your spine.
“Doing everything you do to her… to me.”
“Keep going.” His instructions are clear, but with the way his hand has now reached your throbbing core, with how his fingers glide over your soaked panties, feeling just how fucking wet you are for him, you don’t even know how to say your own name. 
“You kiss me, not her. You… touch me, not her.” The words stumble out of your mouth and Sunghoon breathes them in, his cock hard against his jeans as he lets his fingers push your panties to the side, feeling your warm and soft folds right then against his skin. He groans, head falling onto your shoulder.
“Shit, you’re so wet, baby, fuck.”
You whimper when he finds your clit with his thumb and you would have landed on the floor, if his arm hadn’t wrapped around you just then.
“Sunghoon…,” you breathe out, but he just shakes his head, kissing the side of your neck.
“Am I touching you like this in your mind, baby? Am I making you this wet?”
As if to accompany his words, he pushes one finger into you and you cry out, hands fisting the material of his shirt. 
“G-god, yes, just- just like this, Hoon.”
He’s dizzy, you are making him dizzy. Your smell and the way you feel around his finger, your voice dripping in pure lust, it’s about to drive him fucking insane.
“Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he mumbles before finally kissing you, his lips devouring you like starved man, a moan escaping and landing in your mouth. Every bit of composure that might have been there a second ago is now gone. Your arms wrap around his neck as he continues pushing his finger in and out of you, your small whimpers getting caught by his busy lips. 
Sunghoon thinks you’re like a drug. Now that he’s got a taste, he can’t stop, he can’t get enough. He licks into your mouth to taste more of you, pushes another finger into your sopping pussy to prep you for his cock that is aching behind his pants. There isn’t much time, he knows someone will notice if he’s gone too long. 
“Been dreaming of this, Hoon, need you so, so bad.”
Your whispered words are like a prayer to Sunghoon. He moans against your lips and wraps both of his arms around you now, your cunt feeling so empty without him all of a sudden. You cry out when he puts you down on your bed and kisses you again, his hands busy getting your panties off your body, leaving your pussy bare for him to dive back into with his fingers. 
He kisses you again, his tongue circling around yours, his lips hot and red and perfect against your own. Nimble fingers slip underneath his shirt, caressing his soft skin as your hips move against him, his fingers even deeper inside of you at this angle. You whine into his mouth and Sunghoon bites down on your bottom lip.
“Gotta have you, baby, gotta fuck you, yeah?”
“Yes, please.” 
He rids himself of his jeans and boxers, pushing them down enough for his cock to spring free, his eyes taking in your body, your face, the way you look wanting him. How many nights had he wished it was you underneath him? Cursing under his breath, he pushes you further up the bed, your head landing on the pillow behind you, gaze wide as you watch him lean forward, his soft brown hair falling into his face. He doesn’t waste any time, pumping his cock a few times before lining himself up with you, easily slipping into your wet heat. 
“Kiss me.” You whisper and Sunghoon’s eyes fly open, sinking into your further as he leans forward, his lips catching yours in a sensual kiss. Your legs almost automatically wrap around his waist, helping him to completely sink into you. Moans are exchanged between the two of you and your fingers grab Sunghoon’s hair, pulling his head back so you can kiss his neck. He hisses, hips beginning to thrust into you, your tongue lapping at his skin. 
“Fuck, you’re so perfect around me, sweetheart. Never had a pussy better than this.”
He grabs your hand and pins it over your head, eyes wild as he stares down at you, his hips beginning to move mercilessly, cock hitting you right where you need him to. It takes everything in you not to scream for him, your eyes rolling back and your back arching, wanting more of him, wanting all of him. 
“Hoon, am already close,” you admit with your face hot and Sunghoon moans once again, letting his head fall down, back between your shoulder and neck, kissing your skin.
“Yes, baby, want you to cum on my cock.”
It’s true. He doesn’t think he has ever wanted something as much as this. His words are like a spell, your pussy clenching over and over again as your orgasm erupts you, making you cry out in pleasure, your hands flying to the his back, hips moving rapidly against him, basically fucking yourself on his cock through your orgasm and Sunghoon feels like he is about to pass out. 
“Good girl, such a good girl for me, fuck.”
He kisses you again, lust and want mixed with desperation as he continues to chase his high, twitching inside of you, your walls tight and warm around his hard cock. If he could, he would fuck you for another six hours, but he knows tonight is not the night for that. Fuck, he’s gonna need to get you a new apartment, he needs to get you as far away from Yeri as he possibly can. 
“Want you to cum in me, Sunghoon, please, make me yours, fill me up, please.”
Black and white dots appear in front of his eyes when you whisper these words in his ear and he can’t do anything but have your wish be his command. He curses your name once, twice - then he cums, thick stripes of white filling your awaiting pussy, the feeling of being filled by him getting you over the edge a second time. You can’t help the loud moan this time, can’t help clawing your fingers into his skin underneath his shirt. He rides out his orgasm and your legs fall off his waist, overstimulation hitting you and making you whine, Hoon kissing your neck and your cheek and finally your lips as he pulls out, quick to part from you again to look at how pretty your pussy looks filled with his release. 
“Fuck, sweetheart, I could look at this forever,” he mumbles, sinking down to push two fingers inside you, stuffing his cum back in. You gasp in surprise.
“Park Sunghoon!” 
He laughs, looking up at you with his bangs hanging in his face.
“Need to make sure it stays where it belongs, princess.”
Sunghoon breaks up with Yeri the next day. He takes you apartment hunting an hour later. Safe to say Jake’s plan worked out. And he won’t ever let you hear the end of it. 
2K notes · View notes
explicit-tae · 1 year ago
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for ungodly hour couple can we have jk flirt with another girl or smth to try and get a reaction out of oc so he can be like "told you youre down bad look how jealous you got" but it backfires bc she flirts w someone else right back but it ends with them fucking anyway and making up 😭🫶
I actually like the idea of that so I'll just make a quick one-shot of it 🤣
ungodly hour
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Word Count: 4.297
Warning: jealous reader, jealous jungkook, smut, yelling, kissing, dirty talking, simp jungkook, tsundere reader ofc, 69 position, oral (f/m receiving), spitting, competative jk sigh, face riding, competence kink, cum-swallowing,
“Well, well,” Jimin says as he looks up to spot you. He’s seated inside the college library at a once empty desk before you occupied it. “If it isn’t Y/N.”
You want to roll your eyes at the tone in Jimin’s voice. “In the flesh.” you say.
“What do I owe the unwelcomed visit?” Jimin drops the pen he was using to continue speaking with you.
“Ugh, Jimin, cut the shit.” you place your bag upon the table. “Jungkook told me you like me and us together.”
Jimin snickers. “I enjoy seeing my friend happy, I suppose.” he shrugs. 
“I guess that means we’re the same.” you retort.
“I'd like to say you’re more of a bitch with an attitude.” Jimin scoffs.
Your eyes widen, but you don’t want to say what you really want to - you and he would be bantering in the library and kicked out. 
You take a deep breath. “I’m going to regret this.” you murmur more to yourself than to Jimin, but the man hears and now he’s intrigued. “I need your help.”
Jimin is in fact intrigued. His attention is fully on you now. “My help?”
You nod.
“What can I give you that you can’t go to Jungkook for?” Jimin snickers.
You don’t answer and noticing, Jimin begins to smirk. 
“What do I get out of it?” 
You sigh loudly. “What do you want?” you grumble, eyes glaring at the older man.
“First, tell me what you want.” Jimin closes his textbook, finding you here before him more interesting.
You swallow. Your body was feeling hot with nerves.
You hoped Jimin wouldn’t laugh in your face and further humiliate you - or even make it worse by telling Jungkook. 
“I want to make Jungkook jealous.” you murmur so low that Jimin has to think hard to see if he’s heard you correctly. 
Jimin then begins to chuckle to himself, leaning back into the library chair. “Ah, so he was right when he told me you were jealous.”
You widen your eyes. “He told you that?!” you hiss lowly, feeling your hands clenched into fists. 
It was a week prior when it began. You and Jungkook had classes that same day, him being done only an hour before yours ended. He had texted you that he’d be in the dining hall - typical for Jungkook and his near never ending hunger. You’d usually always catch him there with someone - his friends, mostly.
That day, however, it was neither. It was a person you’ve never seen before - a girl. 
You recall the way your pace slowed as you caught where he stood, her across from him. He was nodding to something she was saying. It happens suddenly, however, the way Jungkook responds back (inaudible to you) and the girl laughs loudly. You are only a few feet away when you see the way she touches Jungkook’s chest, coming even closer.
Jungkook looks directly behind the girl and his lips form a smile. “Y/N!” he had called your name, nodding to the girl before making his way towards you. Your eyes locked to the girl he was speaking to - the look in her eyes was one you were all too familiar with. “You ready to go?” he asks you and you nodded your head, remaining silent.
“Yes, he did.” Jimin smirks at your reaction. “Said you were snappy the entire time.”
“I was not.” you declare, but you were. After all, Jungkook pursued you for months before you gave him a chance before you ultimately agreed to being his girlfriend. He had to know that was a privilege.
“Sure.” Jimin shrugs at your obvious lie. “Then why are you trying to make him jealous?”
You were beginning to regret coming to Jimin - you didn’t need him going to Jungkook with this. It would just fuel his teasing and that’s not something you wanted. 
You didn’t consider yourself to be the jealous type and you didn’t care who Jungkook was friends with - male or female. However, it was the way Jungkook reacted. His mind clicked when you were a bit distant and snappy, and that’s where it began. “You’re jealous.” he says, stopping in his tracks suddenly. You and he were halfway to his car when he made the revelation, eyes wide and soon, a smirk forming onto his lips. “That’s good. That means we’re one step closer to admitting you like me.”
And it didn’t get better. At every given chance, Jungkook would bring up Sia - the girl he was speaking to. “Sia said this ice-cream shop downtown is good. We should go.”, “Sia says this movie was good, let’s watch it together.” and it went on and on until you eventually snapped at him.
 Jungkook does it for a reaction - a scoff, a roll in your eyes or even a glare. When you snapped at him, declaring “If you’re going to keep talking about what she likes then you mind as well fuck her.”, it’s disgusting to admit that your tone turned him on - mixed with the angered look in your eyes. 
It gets the man going knowing that even you could be jealous. Maybe it wasn’t the right thing to do, but he enjoys teasing you. “You’re so down bad for me, baby. I can see it in your eyes.” he’d say. “You know you’re the only girl for me, Y/N. You don’t have to be jealous.”
“Give him a taste of his own medicine.” you shrug your shoulders. You didn’t want to go into any more detail with Jimin, after all, Jungkook was his friend. He probably already knows enough.
And know enough Jimin does. It was a week ago today when he got a call from Jungkook, asking for advice. “Maybe she’s jealous.” Jimin told him over the phone. “You can be oblivious to when girls are flirting with you.”
“Who? Sia?” Jungkook had scoffed. He hasn’t thought about other girls in months, not since he and you became intimate. “I never knew Y/N could get like that…” Jungkook trailed off, a tone that was all too familiar to Jimin. The younger man was plotting.
“You’re going to make her jealous, aren’t you?” Jimin scoffed. “I don’t think that’s wise.”
“You’re team Y/N now?” Jungkook asked. “I’m not going to flirt with Sia or even be around her. I just want Y/N to admit that she likes me.” he revealed truthfully. “Without me having to fuck it out of her.”
“Does her being with you not mean she likes you?” Jimin furrows his brows. Jungkook could be on the dumb side sometimes and the fact that he had to defend you made him want to gag. But for months it was apparent that you liked Jungkook more than you’d let on - Jimin had to hear it when Jungkook called him nearly in tears when you called yourself “his girl”.
“Stop trying to sound smart, hyung. I just want to hear her say it.” And that’s where it began - each time Jungkook got a reaction out of you, he’d tell Jimin. It was a matter of time before you’d snap - and you did; now sitting before him.
“I see. I help you and you help me.” Jimin leans forward. “Starting with what I want.”
You wait for Jimin to speak, and when he does, you’re left dumbfounded. 
“What’s the password to all of the streaming services?”
You blink a few times, trying to register what Jimin said. “That’s…out of everything you can ask for-”
“I need to get back to The Real Housewives.” Jimin waves you off. “Now, passwords before I help you.”
“YNloves97.” you tilt your head.
Jimin rolls his eyes. “I hate simps.” he murmurs, but he writes it down on a sheet of paper before turning his attention back to you. “Now, how far are you trying to go?”
You swallow. “Not that far.” you admit. You couldn’t see yourself flirting with someone else - besides, Jungkook would know you were trying to make him jealous and that would make his head grow even bigger.
“I know my friend, Y/N. If you try too hard, he’s not going to fall for it. You have to be subtle.” Jimin exclaims. “He knows how unapproachable you are.”
“Unapproachable?” you’re taken aback once more at Jimin’s choice of words. “What does that mean?”
“Exactly what I said. You have a resting bitch face and you’ve turned down so many guys that no one wants to approach you anymore. Jungkook is seen as a conqueror for being able to have you.” Jimin states matter-of-factly.
You sigh in defeat because damn was Jimin correct. You recall back when Jungkook and you went on the “picnic-movie-dinner” and he exclaimed how he knows there's guys that want you, but he was the one that had you.
Fuck Jeon Jungkook.
Jimin swallows, a disdainful look in his eyes. “Do you want to hangout?”
“What?”
“Do you…want to hangout?” Jimin repeats, appearing even more disgusted. “It’s part of the plan, trust me.”
“I-I guess.” you murmur, unsure of how this was going to go. But Jimin and Jungkook were best friends and if you were going to trust anyone about your plan, it’d have to be him.
The following week goes by and Jungkook notices a shift.
The most uncommon shift was you and Jimin together. When you had told Jungkook that you couldn’t study with him because you were doing so with Jimin, he had laughed. He assumed it was a joke, until it wasn’t.
Jungkook was fine with it, of course. He wanted you and Jimin to get along.
What Jungkook wasn’t fine with was the amount of times you’d speak of Jimin and how, in your words, “He’s actually fun to be around.”, “I convinced Jimin to listen to this podcast with me while we studied”, “It’s okay, I’ll just ask Jimin.” - and the fact that you were going to someone else for something instead of him was what truly got his blood boiling.
“I invited Jimin, hope that’s okay.” you said, dropping next to Jungkook. You were in the living room of your home, Chaeyoung showering up the stairs and soon joining you and him. It was only a study session - exams coming just around the corner. 
“Did you?” Jungkook snickers. “Why?”
“Why not?” you shrug with a short giggle. “Don’t we all need to study?”
Jungkook remains quiet, not wanting to think too much into it.
There was no way he was jealous. Jimin was his friend and there was no reason to be.
But when there was a knock on the door. You had risen to answer it, and that was the cherry on top - the way you hugged Jimin, greeting him with a wide smile.
You hadn’t even hugged Jungkook that way - or even appeared to be happy that he was there. When did you and Jimin grow so close? It wasn’t long ago that you were butting heads over streaming services. Now, the two of you were hugging, your arms wrapped firmly around him.
“Is the plan still on?” Jimin murmurs to you, feeling the burning hole Jungkook is burning through him. 
“Yes.” you murmur back. You avoid Jungkook’s eyes, especially when you feel Jimin light tap the low of your back.
Jungkook watches your next move, not taking his eyes off of you. You bring yourself back next to Jungkook on the couch, finally meeting his eyes. He doesn’t say anything  to you, only watching with tense eyes.
“I ordered pizza.” Chaeyoung says, almost on cue. Her hair is damp as she comes through. “Should be here in a few.”
You want to laugh at how giddy you feel right now. Jungkook’s reaction. You aren’t going to feel guilty - he started this first.
It was Jimin’s idea after all. “I would rather die than flirt with you.” Jimin snarls. The feeling was mutual. “But Jungkook is a territorial person. He’ll grow jealous of you hanging out with anyone that isn’t him.”
And that’s where it began - the constant “study” sessions that truly had you and Jimin bickering with one another. “I agreed to listen to your murder podcast but watching The Real Housewives of New Jersey is where you draw the line?” Jimin snapped one day.
However, Jimin was correct. He knew Jungkook like the back of his hand and his plan was working smoothly. 
A study session always started well and ended with loud chatter and laughs - only Jungkook sulked on the couch, while you, Chaeyoung and Jimin gathered around the low coffee table to eat.
“Here, try this.” Jimin shoves his pizza in your face - it has a variety of toppings on it and you want to gag at the sight of it. You want to shake your head because damn did it look disgusting, toppings nearly falling all over the place, but Jimin eyes widen and he slightly nods. 
You open your mouth and take a bite, allowing Jimin to feed you the pizza - and Jungkook’s had enough of watching you and him.
“Y/N doesn’t even like all those toppings.” Jungkook hisses, shoving the pizza away from you. It falls into Jimin’s lap sloppily, and the older man groans.
“Kook, what the hell?” Jimin cleans the pizza from his lap, glaring at his younger friend. “What’s your problem-”
“I think you should go.” Jungkook exclaims.
“No he doesn’t.” you are quick to defend Jimin, and inside you’re screaming, wanting to laugh in Jungkook’s obviously jealous face. “What’s going on with you?”
Jungkook’s taken aback. “Since when are you and Jimin friends?” he hisses, not intending for his voice to be as low. “Jimin’s my friend.”
Luckily you’ve told Chaeyoung the plan, or she would have thought you had two friends fighting for you. She takes a sip of her soda to hide her laughter. 
“Please don’t fight over me.” Jimin chuckles. “There’s enough of me to go around.”
“You should be happy that I’m being friends with your friends.” you cross your arms. “Or do you prefer we butt heads?”
Jungkook would prefer you and Jimin to do nothing at all, like before. He hides his remark because in the end, Jimin was his friend and he truly would never accuse anything of him - but he couldn’t help how he feels.
“Can I talk to you in private, Y/N?” Jungkook murmurs, his eyes intense.
Jimin watches as you and Jungkook walk up the stairs and down the hall, not speaking until he hears a door close.
“Turn the TV up.” Chaeyoung says suddenly, taking a bite of her pizza. “They’re going to fuck it out right about now.”
Jimin doesn’t have to be told twice.
“What the fuck are you doing with Jimin?” Jungkook hiss as soon as the door to your bedroom is closed. “And don’t give that mush-mouth shit either, Y/N.”
You shrug. “The same thing you’re doing with Sia.”
Jungkook stops in his tracks. You sit at the edge of your bed with crossed arms.
“Sia?” Jungkook looks at you as if he had no idea what you were speaking of. “Sia?” he repeats.
“Sia.” you mock with a scoff. “Yes, Jungkook.”
Jungkook inhales deeply before exhaling. He tilts his head for a moment, your words repeating in his mind. 
“I don’t hang out with Sia. I don’t even talk to her.” Jungkook proclaims, a snarky tone in his voice.
“Sia likes this, Sia does that, Sia goes here, we should go there.” you mock Jungkook’s voice the best you could. “But I watch a little Housewives with Jimin and it’s a problem?” It was a problem, because there was only so much New Jersey you could watch.
Jungkook’s eyes begin to squint, and then widen. It was like a lightbulb went off. 
“You were trying to make me jealous. And you had Jimin help you do it.” Jungkook exclaims.
“Did not,” you scoff.
“You did.”
“Not.”
“You always avoid my gaze when you’re lying, Y/N.” Jungkook sighs in relief. He had to hand it to you, you and Jimin were determined - and your plan worked entirely well. 
“Fuck you.” you hiss. “Isn’t that what you were doing first?” you quip, now rising to your feet. “Then you lie about it.”
Jungkook’s head snaps towards you. “Lie? About what?”
“Turn the T.V. down!” Chaeyoung murmurs, hearing the rise in your voice. 
“Already on it.” Jimin responds. 
“You said you don’t talk to Sia which is kinda weird seeing as you seem to know so much about what she likes.”
“You go through all of this instead of admitting you like me, Y/N?” Jungkook begins to laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “You like me. You’re down bad for me just as I am for you.”
You roll your eyes at Jungkook’s words. 
“Stop avoiding what I said.”
“I’m not lying.” Jungkook retorts. “Can we admit you’re jealous of Sia-”
“Fuck you and her disrespectfully.” you bellowed, venom laced in your words. You’re even surprised at how it came out. 
Jungkook licks his lips. “I only talked to Sia that one time in the dining hall,” he admits. “I…I did lie about everything I told you she said. I never spoke to her after.”
You blink a few times, registering his words. 
“What?”
“I just wanted to hear you admit that you were jealous.” now that Jungkook hears himself, his plan sounded stupidly childish. “Admit that you like me-”
“Like you?” you scoff. “You met my parents.”
“Because you were hiding the fact that I wasn’t your boyfriend.” Jungkook shrugs. 
“At the time.” you tilt your head. “I’m with you all the time. I watch your nerdy movies-”
“And I watch your serial killer documentaries!” Jungkook defends. 
“Exactly.” you wave your hands around. “How could you think I don’t like you when we’re constantly together?”
Jungkook understands that you make valid points, but he was but a man and how was he supposed to feel? “I just want to hear you say it.” he shrugs his shoulders, unsure what else to say. “You only say it when I’m fucking you into oblivion-”
“Okay,” you lift your hand to pause his speech. “please don’t get ahead of yourself there.”
“Just say you like me.” Jungkook steps closer to you, reaching out for you. He has a small smile on his lips. “Just admit that you like me, baby. You’re so down bad for me that you somehow got Jimin to make me jealous of your fraudulent friendship.”
Jungkook’s holding you now, arms embracing you entirely. 
“What’s understood doesn’t need to be said.” you murmur, melting into his embrace. You inhale his scent, enjoying the freshly clean scent of his cologne.
“It does.” Jungkook kisses your forehead. He wonders if Jimin told you how he reacted over the phone when you called yourself his girl. It wouldn’t bother him because you know how he feels already.
You roll your eyes. “I…like you.” you say against his chest.
Jungkook pushes you back. “Excuse me?”
“I already said-”
“No, say it again. Without a dick in you-”
You slap his hand from your shoulders. “Oh wow, fuck you-”
“I will.” Jungkook nods erratically. “You can sit on my face until you’re shaking with pleasure, then I’ll fuck you until you’re begging-”
“I like you, Jungkook.” your body heats up at his words and of course, your legs clench for friction. It was as if you and he weren’t just in a disagreement not too long ago. “Ugh, I hate you.”  you murmur when you see the smirk forming on his lips. 
“Hate that you like me.” Jungkook squeals, far too giddy than he should be. “Take your clothes off, baby.”
“They don’t waste any time.” Jimin snorts, wiping his mouth with a napkin. 
“Turn the T.V. up again. Jungkook’s about to fuck some more love confessions out of her.” Chaeyoung warns.
Jungkook’s nails dig into the skin of your thigh, gripping entirely too tight to fight off his nerves. His tongue laps your clit vigorously - with such need. It’s almost like it gave him pleasure by pleasuring you. 
Your hands wrap around the length of his cock, pumping up and down slowly - just because you want to tease him. His tongue laps even harder when you begin to pump faster, smothering himself against you. 
Jungkook groans, the vibration feeling against your clit. You allow the saliva to pool from your tongue and onto his clit, tightening your grip. You then decide to take him in your mouth, the salty taste of his pre-cum hitting your taste buds.You assure to add more saliva to jerk him while you suckle along the tip.
Jungkook’s hand rubs along your ass then upwards towards your back, He gently bites your thigh. “You’re so good, baby…”
Jungkook presses a kiss against your clit before he continues on his assault upon your clit. You want to tell him to stop - you were supposed to be pleasuring him, too, but Jungkook always made things harder. Naturally, Jungkook was competitive, and it was as if he was competing to see who would cum first.
And with the way Jungkook now adds his fingers, pumping entirely just as fast as his tongue suckles on your clit - you were going to lose.
You take Jungkook into your mouth fully, his tip hitting your throat. Jungkook twitches, and that’s when you know you had it. You lay your tongue flat, continuing to suck him fully. You were just as stubborn as Jungkook was, and now it was a game to see who was going to win - even if you’re certain you’d just become submissive like always and allow him to take control.
Jungkook’s groaning against your pussy now, trying everything in him to not lose (lose a battle that should have never started), but you were slurping him entirely too good for him to not want to.
“J-Just cum, already.” you cave, his cock popping out of your mouth, saliva dripping down the corner of your mouth. 
“You first.” Jungkook huffs. “Ride my face.”
“Fuck…you…” you groan, but you do as Jungkook asks. Your hips begin to roll, clit grinding against Jungkook’s tongue. 
Jungkook keeps his hands permanently on your ass, allowing you to take control of your orgasm. He’s satisfied that you’ve decided to cave, his competitive nature satisfied. Now, all you have to do is cum.
You bite your lip to suppress a loud moan - Jimin and Chaeyoung were just downstairs. But you were going to cum on Jungkook’s tongue like he intended, not understanding how you yet again lost the battle against Jeon Jungkook.
Fuck Jeon Jungkook.
Jungkook moans against your clit, a low whine releasing from your sweet lips Your thighs are quivering as you are coming to your high, eyes fluttering close and your head hanging.
You fall against your bed with a sigh. You needed to catch your breath.
“My pretty girl.” Jungkook smiles down at you, now hovering above you. “Are you hungry?”
“Shut up.” you scoff. 
Jungkook’s smile doesn’t falter.
“I was watching porn earlier.” you began. “I want you to fuck my breasts.”
Jungkook chokes at your words, flushing red. “What-”
“Put your dick between my breasts,” you begin, speaking slowly. “and fuck them.”
Jungkook quickly nods, already feeling the familiar throb in his cock. 
“You’re so good for me, Y/N.” Jungkook speaks.
“Put it in my mouth first.” you instruct. “So it can be lubricated.”
Jungkook groans but nods. You suck on his cock for a moment before popping it out of your mouth. Jungkook then hovers above your breast, gulping.
Jungkook moans, pressing your breast together as he begins to thrust. Your tongue dips out so you could lick the tip of his tip each time he thrust forward. 
Both of Jungkook’s thumbs rub along your nipples, his thrusting becoming faster. You're so beautiful and Jungkook would never get tired of saying it. He’s never thought about fucking your breast, but now as he’s doing so, he can’t imagine not doing it again.
You had to admit watching Jungkook fuck your breast was hot - but that was also because Jungkook was hot. There’s sweat lining his forehead and his lips are forming a small ‘o’ shape. Maybe this is what Jungkook felt like when he was pleasuring you - it was because of you that Jungkook was appearing in pure ecstasy.
“You really do like me, baby.” chuckled Jungkook deeply. His fingers twist your nipples. “I can’t believe you’d thought I would ever be interested in that girl.”
You hum, glad that Jungkook didn’t say her name.
“You know you’re the only girl for me, baby.”
“You can cum in my mouth.” you moan, opening your mouth wider and poking your tongue out. 
Jungkook grumbles with a shake of his head. His thrusts become even faster, sloppier. His hands grip your breast entirely in his palms. “My pretty girl,” he pants. “so, so pretty. So good for m-me…” Jungkook’s voice cracks, twitching as he cums.
Jungkook’s cum hits your tongue - warm, salty and great. It’s an abundance, so much cum that a bit drips down your chin. You swallow, licking your lips.
Jungkook falls next to you, legs twitching with ecstasy. He swallows the lump in his throat. He brings you closer to him, kissing your lips entirely. 
“My pretty girl.”
“Ugh,” you groan. “I hate simps.”
Jungkook allows you to fall against his chest and it rumbles as he laughs.  “You’re so down bad for me, Y/N. It's so obvious now.” he teases. “I’ll fuck another confession out of you later.”
You slap his chest, but the throbbing between your legs is evident that you were anticipating his words to be true.
DRABBLE 2 | DRABBLE 3
1K notes · View notes
erosiism · 6 months ago
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OBLIVION | YANDERE CROWN PRINCE X M!READER
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prompt: very lazy (oblivious) reader x yandere crown prince who basically does everything for him. reader is clueless about his friends disappearing around him, historical setting where MC is a pampered son of a noble family 
character(s): yandere crown prince, lazy!reader
warnings(s): mild violence, yandere themes. still considered rather fluffy and sfw
note(s): male reader, second person, present tense, as far as this goes this guy is too green to be really called a yandere lol. his possessive and violence tendencies are not to be glorified regardless, loose use of magic, not beta read 
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Your biggest enemy is hard work, and your favorite hobby is sleeping. You can’t help it—you are spoiled, no doubt about that, and because you got lucky enough to be born into a prestigious family who dotes on you. Your social life is almost non-existent, but ever since you were young, your friend has stuck next to you. 
Your friend, who happens to be a crown prince.
People say he’s scary. You doubt that highly—is His Highness Cassian not the one who has brought you sweet treats from young? Is he not the one who littered your skin with tiny kisses because he likes showing affection? Is he not the one who allows you to laze around or nap? Rumors tend to be untrue, and you feel almost sorry towards the prince for having to deal with that.
(“I heard that if you mess with him, His Highness has the ability to kill! Haven’t you heard the disappearances lately?”)
You asked the crown prince questions regarding the rumors. All you got was a surprised, flippant reply: kill? That’s ridiculous, [Name]. I haven’t even mastered my mana skills yet.
So you don’t trust the rumors. It makes sense for people to be jealous, after all: he’s the crown prince. He has objectively good looks, and he’s an amalgamation of everything someone would covet: wealth, prestige, brilliance, and skill.
“You slept in class again?” A voice tears you out of your thoughts. You’re lounging on the bench in the school garden, and your legs are propped up on the sides. Your bag is thrown loosely to the ground. Inwardly you wish you had the physical capability to be agile enough to scale up a tree—because god, the place up there looked amazing—but unfortunately, you didn’t.
You face him. Cassia raises an eyebrow, and his fingers reach out gingerly to touch your cheek gently. You don’t recoil. It’s become normal.
“I can see words imprinted on your face. How long did you sleep? Or rather, how long was your class?”
It takes a few moments for you to process the prince’s words, before you squint your eyes. There’s a red smear on his cheek that seems hastily wiped off. It’s not too obvious, not to others, anyways, but you’re so used to Cassian's face looking normal that you immediately notice it.
“What’s that red thing on your face?” You ignore the question. You know that he can guess the answer.
“…Red thing?” Cassian immediately narrows his eyes, pausing. His fingers leave your face and go to his own. It looks like blood; which is odd, and definitely not possible.
“Is that…” you mull it over for a second. It can’t be blood. Or lipstick.
Cassian, though having received multiple marriage proposals, didn’t seem to be settling down any time soon. 
Strange, it doesn’t even seem like he likes women. So the only plausible thing is—
“—were you drinking tomato soup earlier?”
Cassian blinks his eyes, before a look of realization dawns on his face. And if you see correctly, there’s almost the tiniest hint of relief. Cassian’s lips tug up into a smile—he laughs, the prince laughs, the sound bright and mirthful and irrevocably fond. Your parents have teased you once about the prince nursing a crush on you. But this is how he has treated you for as long as you can remember.
“Tomato?”
“Looks like a tomato,” You furrow your eyebrows. “Hey, do they serve tomato soup in the academy? I really want tomato soup. It’s easy to drink, and…”
“I’ll get you some later,” Cassian says affectionately. He ruffles your hair, and you relax. “Don’t worry too much, alright?”
You shrug loosely. “Alright.”
.
.
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[ before ]
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He stares at the dead body on the ground. There aren’t a lot of rumors of you, but your laziness is well known. Some see it fondly, almost endearingly, but there are the rare few who view you with disdain because of your apparent lack of diligence.
Caspian doesn’t like that. He’s fine with rumors of his own—but of you? But of sweet, innocent, lovely you? He loathes it.
“Stop talking,” he smiles. “…You can do that, can’t you? After all, you’re already dead.”
A head lolls about and blood drips off a blade.
What, Cassian thinks with that sweet softness he has reserved for you, smiling gently, should I get for [Name] today?
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shitpost since i had this lying around. lowkey cringe
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kayhi808 · 5 months ago
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First Crush - 4
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It's been about a week & a half since you've seen Bucky Barnes around the Tower. You knew he was out on a mission, but didn't know when he'd be returning. Abby has been asking you if you've see him at work.
You spent an entire evening with Abby sitting in your lap trying to explain that Bucky has to fly away sometimes to stop bad people. And sometimes we didn't know how long he'll be gone. "Are there plenty bad people, Mama?"
Hugging her tight, "There are a lot less, because Sergeant Barnes is very very good at catching the bad guys and putting them in jail. But sometimes his job takes a long time." Abby is silent, which is odd for your talkative daughter. "What's the matter, Baby?"
She shakes her head, getting out of your lap, to hug you around the neck, "Cans I sleeps with yous, Mama?"
Worried, "Ok, baby." Maybe you didn't explain things correctly. Did she not understand?
*****
You've been with Fury all morning attending his meetings with him so you were there when he was notified that Bucky's team returned. You attended the debriefing and you couldn't help but sneak glances at Bucky. Besides a bruise along his jaw and a split lip, he looked fine. You knew Abby was going to be thrilled when you told her tonight that Bucky was home.
After the meeting concluded, you and Bucky were leaving at the same time. "I'm glad your mission was a success, Sergeant."
"Yea, thanks."
"Abby keeps asking me if you were home yet." Bucky laughs softly, but a smile lingers. "We...she was worried. We were worried."
"I'm fine," shrugging off his cuts and bruises.
"I'm glad."
He leans in, making your hold your breath, "My friends call me, Bucky."
A little breathy, "Y/N." Before you know it, you're at your office door.
"See you around, Y/N." He turns as he walks away, "Tell Abby I said 'hi'."
*****
Lifting Abby onto her chair at the dinner table, "Guess who I saw today?"
Her head whips to you, eyes wide, "Mr. S'gent came home?" You smile wide & nod. She claps her hands & screams and slides down from her chair.
"Abby?" She runs away still screaming, "Abigail!" She stops turning back to you. "Get back here, please. What are you doing?"
"I needs to draws him a letter, Mama!"
You laugh, "You need to eat your dinner first. Come sit down." Frowning she waddles back to you. "I didn't say you couldn't do it, but you need to eat dinner first." You kiss her and put her back in her seat.
Still frowning, "Did he get the bad guys?"
"He did!" Placing her raviolis in front of her, clipping a napkin around her neck. Pasta gets a little messy. "He also wanted me to tell you he said 'hi'."
Abby's frown disappears, "He 'members me?"
"Of course he remembers you. I told you he wouldn't forget." She does a happy wiggle in her chair & laughs. She quickly eats her dinner so she can get to her letter writing...drawing.
"Mama?"
"Yes, Baby?"
Bringing her paper to you, "Can you make the words over here?"
"Sure, what do you want it to say?"
Leaning her body against you, looking at the blank paper, "Um...ummm"
"You want me to write, Um Um?"
She laughs, "No, Mama! Writes "good work'."
"You mean good job?"
"Uh huh, yea. Good job." She watches you write and takes the paper back to her little desk. She draws a stick person with colorful circles over her head, that you are guessing are balloons. "Can we go give it to Mr S'gent now?"
"Baby, its late, no. You need to take a bath & go to sleep. When I go to work on Monday, I'll make sure he gets it."
"No! I wants to give it!" Her mouth turns down in a frown & her eyes start to tear.
"Abby, it's the weekend. And you need to go to daycare..."
"Oh, please mama!" You noticed it's not a tantrum or stubbornness, but it's almost like she's distressed.
"Baby?" You gather her in your lap. "What's wrong?" She cries.
You rub her back trying to comfort her. "The bad people."
Aw shit. You shouldn't have told her about bad people when explaining Bucky's job. "You worried about the bad people? What bad people?"
"They...they fight Mr. S'gent." She cries harder. You feel horrible for making her worried. Your eyes fill with tears too.
"Honey, Mr. Sergeant is ok. I promise." Her tears stop but her grip on you hasn't lessen. You untangle yourself from her to wipe away her tears with the hem of your shirt & giving her kisses. "Ok, how about this, you cannot come to work with Mama, but we can go there tomorrow & drop off your letter at his office so he sees it first thing when he comes in to work. How does that sound? You'll be able to give him a surprise and I"m sure that will make him so happy."
"I surprises him?"
You nod, "And after we leave his surprise, we can go to the park & picnic. We can feed the ducks. Would you like that? Would that make you feel better?" She nods & rubs her face in your shirt. "I love you so much, my baby."
@waywardhunter95 @rebeccapineapple @ordelixx @onceithough @crazyunsexycool @thezombieprostitute @ilovetaquitommmm @julvrs @unaxv @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @samsgirl93
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jobean12-blog · 8 months ago
Text
Where You Belong
Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader (pre or no!outbreak Joel-Friends to Lovers)
Word Count: 2,743
Summary: You and Joel have been friends for a long time and the tension has been building. It's hard to ignore and when he comes to your rescue it's all the push you need.
Author's Note: Just a little something because I love protective boys and love friends to lovers and Joel. Thank you so much for reading! Much love always!❤️❤️❤️ Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics Thank you Daisy! 🥰
Warnings: sweet and fun fluff, some light tension, slightly sketchy boss no one likes, soft and protective Joel, kisses, friends to lovers
Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist
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“Do you want me to come with you?”
You turn to Joel who’s splayed out on your couch, his arm tucked under his head and his tee shirt riding up just high enough that you can see a sliver of skin.
After staring for a beat too long you shake your head no and he sticks his bottom lip out while making a disgruntled sound.
“I mean you can, I want you to,” you back track, “but it’s a work thing and you’ll probably be bored.”
“Is your new boss goin’ to be there?” he asks with a raised brow.
“Yeah. Unfortunately, he’s the one who organized it. Claims he wants us to get to know him better.”
You roll your eyes before turning away and searching for the mugs in the cabinet above the stove. Spotting the ones you want you reach up, straining and standing on your tippy toes.
“I don’t like that guy,” Joel grumbles.
“You met him once…for like a minute,” you counter.
“That was enough for me to know,” he says.
“Ugh!” you mutter when you still can’t grasp the mugs.
Suddenly, you feel his warm body press against your back as his arm rises above your head and easily grabs one mug then the other.
“These?” he asks with a boyish smirk.
“Yeah,” you sigh and take them from his hands. “Thanks. What would I do without you?”
You turn and face him, still trapped against the stove when he smiles and says, “I have no idea.”
Pressing a palm to his chest you shove him away and head for the coffee maker. You don’t even ask if he wants a cup, knowing already that he definitely does and just how he likes it.
An hour later when the coffee’s all gone and you’re too comfortable to want to leave you check your phone anyway and sigh.
“Guess it’s time to go,” you say but instead stretch out along the couch and stuff your feet under Joel’s arm.
“You look ready to go,” he chuckles.
Your eyes close but you can’t hide your smile and when he starts tickling your feet you instantly come alive and start kicking at him.
“FINE! I’m going. If you wanted to get rid of me that badly you could have just said so,” you tease.
“I’m at your house babe,” he replies and does nothing to hide his grin.
“Oh. Yeah. Well…” and your words trail off as you stomp into your bedroom to change.
When you emerge from your room, dressed and ready, you’re looking through your bag for your phone and you don’t notice Joel resting along the wall.
“Wow,” he says, louder than intended.
You startle and look up.
“What?” you ask, unsure if you heard him correctly.
He clears his throat and waves his hand dismissively before grabbing his keys.
“Maybe I should come with you,” he says, more to himself than you as he tries to keep his eyes glued to your face and not traveling down the rest of your body.
“You’ll hate every minute of it” you tease.
Before you reach your door he’s there and holding it open for you and when you walk toward your car he follows, opening the driver’s side door when you click the lock.
“Ok, well, have fun,” he says.
“Thanks. I’ll try.”
“Call if you need me.”
“I will,” you say quietly.
He presses his fingers under your chin and tilts your head up until you’re looking directly into his eyes.
“Promise?” he whispers.
“I promise,” you tell him.
His gaze softens and wanders over your face, then he presses a delicate kiss to the corner of your mouth.
You plop down into the seat of the car and wait for him to shut the door. He backs away and watches you pull out of the driveway before heading to his pick-up truck.
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“So where is everyone else?” you ask as you sit at the bar and sip your drink.
“Not here yet I guess,” your boss shrugs.
You shift and let your eyes sweep the bar space, silently willing someone else from work to walk in. Your new boss was hired about six months ago. He’s not much older than you and at first seemed nice enough but the more time you’ve spent in his presence the more you notice his lingering glances and unwanted touches.
Thankfully, it’s never gone far enough where you’ve had a problem but you’ve spoken to Joel about it and of course he wants to kick his ass.
Your boss, Scott, leans in closer. Too close and you try to remain unbothered, pulling back only slightly and holding your smile.
“So, tell me more about yourself. I know you’ve been at the company for over a year but since I’ve only been here half that time I’d like to get to know you better,” he croons.
“Umm,” you start as an uncomfortable feeling creeps along the back of your neck. “Well, I uh…love this place. The food is great. You made a good pick.”
He smiles triumphantly at your praise. “Great! Let’s get some dinner then!”
Before you can protest he signals the bartender.
“What’s your suggestion,” Scott asks.
The bartender’s eyes slide to you, a question hanging silently in his gaze, and you smile before saying, “the burgers are really good.”  
“Sounds great,” Scott smiles. “Make it two burgers.”
The bartender nods and walks back toward the kitchen.
“Shouldn’t we wait for the others to show up?” you ask.
“They can order something if they come.”  
“If…?” you question, but your next thought is interrupted when he lays a hand on your knee.
Your urge to pull away overrides everything else and you swivel on the stool, placing your drink down on the bar and standing.
“I’m just going to use the restroom before the food comes,” you explain, keeping a strained smile plastered to your face.
Scott smiles back and as you walk away from the bar you can feel his eyes on you the whole time.
When you reach the bathroom you rush inside the door and lock it, quickly grabbing your phone.
“Hey babe,” Joel answers after the first ring, “missed me that much already?”
“Can you come get me?” you ask in a hushed whisper.
“Are you ok?” he asks, his voice suddenly hard and alert.
“I’m fine…I just need you to come and get me…pretend I need to come home or something. I don’t know. Just make it work.”
“Are you sure you’re ok?” he asks again and you can hear his keys jangling.
“Yeah, just hurry. My boss is the only one here and he’s being sketchy.”
“Where are you now?”
“In the bathroom.”
“Just stay there. I’ already in the truck.”
“I can’t Joel. I have to go back out. I can’t make this look too weird.”
“I knew I didn’t like this guy. He’s an asshole. I should knock him out flat when I get there.”
“Joel,” you plead.
“Ok sweetheart,” he relents with a softened tone. “I’m already on my way.”
“Ok. I’ll be at the bar.”
You hang up and wash your hands then take a deep breath.
As you walk back to the bar you see Scott searching for you, his smile widening when he spots you approaching.
“There you are,” he says as you sit. “I ordered you another drink.”
“Oh,” you answer, looking at your first drink that’s still half full. “Thanks.”
You make small talk, trying to keep the conversation neutral and focused on easy topics like movies and music. He orders his third drink before the food arrives and you can tell he’s starting to get a little drunk.
The bartender shows up with your food orders and when you don’t take a bite your boss frowns.
“Aren’t you going to eat?”
You get the impression he’s waiting for you to take a bite before he does so you pop a fry into your mouth.
“These are really good,” you mumble through the mouthful.
He looks pleased and takes a bite of his burger.
“So is the burger,” he says after swallowing. “Good idea.”
Your eyes slide to the door of the bar when you hear it open but it’s not Joel and your shoulders deflate.
“Everything ok?” Scott asks.
“Oh yeah, yeah,” you answer quickly and drag your eyes from the door.
As you’re slowly sipping your water you see Scott’s fork pause halfway to his mouth. His eyes are trained on something over your shoulder, by the door, and you know Joel has arrived.
You place your drink down and turn. He’s standing just a few feet away, covetous dark eyes focused on you. A familiar awareness races along your skin, heating it but at the same time making you shiver with anticipation.
He starts to move toward you with purposeful steps, his jaw set in determination and his fists clenched at his sides.
Without removing his gaze from you he slowly slides his hand across your shoulders and down your arm, taking your hand in his and lifting it to his lips. He kisses your palm and then hauls you off the stool into his arms.
You visibly relax and your eyes go bright with relief as he looks you over.
“Hey,” he says softly. “I’m here.”
You press yourself against his chest and grab a fistful of his shirt.
“Hey yourself.”
Scott clears his throat and it snaps you out of your cocoon of comfort. Reluctantly you put some space between you and Joel and open your mouth to introduce him.
He beats you to it.
“Joel,” he says, holding out his hand. “Her boyfriend.”
Scott looks surprised at first and then skeptical as he reaches his hand out. You can tell Joel shakes it with a death grip and you try to suppress a giggle.
“I didn’t know you were seeing anyone,” Scott says.
“Well, she definitely is” Joel answers with a hard grind of his jaw.
“That’s too bad for me,” Scott says.
Joel’s arm tightens around your waist and you can hear his growl of disapproval. Scott seems oblivious to his inappropriateness and you want to punch him yourself.
Instead, you ask Joel, “so what’s going on? Is everything ok at home?” You signal as you best you can with your eyes that he better come up with a good excuse as to why he showed up at the bar.
“Right,” Joel says. “I don’t mean to disturb your work get together,” and he says that with a wry smile and a sarcastic tone, “but I need you to come home.”
“We haven’t finished eating,” Scott chimes in.
“We’ll get it wrapped,” Joel replies cooly.
You give his side a little squeeze, hoping to prompt him to elaborate.
“The dog threw up all over the floor. Think she ate something funny. I figured you would want to come home and check on her.”
He says it all in a rush of words, looking worried.
“The dog!” you exclaim. “Oh poor thing.”
Your boss looks between the two of you. “I didn’t know you had a dog either,” he says.
“Well, you mentioned you wanted to get to know me better,” you say, hoping you sound sweet enough.
“So this is my boyfriend Joel and we live together with our dog…Macaroni.”
You can feel Joel’s body shake with his restrained laughter.
“That’s an interesting name…” Scott muses.
“She’s a light beige color and wiggles a lot,” Joel adds. “It fits.”
You laugh and it’s not forced, the whole made up story sounding more and more like a life you could easily and happily live.
When you spot the bartender you ask for a to go container and pack up your barely eaten food. Joel takes out his wallet and drops some cash on the bar.
“I’m sorry I have to run off like this,” you say, feigning disappointment.
“It’s ok,” Scott answers. “It was nice to hang out. Even for a little while. See you Monday.”
Joel nods his goodbye without another word and slides his large hand to the small of your back, directing you toward the door.
“I want turn around and wipe that smile off his face with my fist,” Joel whispers as he leans down close to your ear.
You giggle and walk through the door he holds open for you, taking a deep inhale of the damp night air.
“That was some story you threw together,” you say with a laugh.
“Yeah, well, it worked right?! Now let’s get home and check on Macaroni.”
He takes your hand and tugs you toward his pick-up truck.
“But my car,” you say as you pass it by.
“I’m taking you home,” he answers.
“But…”
You reach his truck and he spins you around, pinning you against the door.
“Sweetheart,” he murmurs. “Please.”
You blink at him. “Ok.”
“Are you sure nothin’ happened?” he asks for the millionth time.
“I am. He just makes me uncomfortable and I didn’t want to be there anymore.”
“And you called me,” he says, stepping closer and crowding you against his truck.
At the feel of his body pressed along yours you suck in a breath of air.
“You told me to call…” you start in a whisper. “And you’re the only one I want to call anyway.”  
The wind picks up, whipping around and mussing his hair, the dark curls falling over his forehead. You lift your hand to brush them away and the first raindrop falls, cold and heavy.
“Shit,” Joel mutters when he feels several more drops hit his shoulders.
The sky opens up and the air is filled with the sound of the raindrops pelting the truck. The two of you are quickly getting soaked and his shirt starts to stick to his skin, highlighting every dip and curve of muscle. His dark lashes are thick and damp and his hair hangs loosely around his face, with just a curl at the ends.
His gaze sweeps down your body as your dress does the same, clinging to your wet skin and revealing the lace of your bra.
When his eyes are on yours again they’re filled with unbridled heat and you react by pressing yourself closer and tracing the broad width of his shoulders, your arms circling around his neck and your fingers delving into his hair.
Your lips hover just an inch apart and a low moan slips out of you, the sound making him release a sharp breath.
“Joel,” you whisper, barely audible over the rain.
He presses his palm to your cheek, his thumb brushing along your skin and wiping away a drop of rain before he cradles your face and drags your lips to his.
Despite the coolness of the rain his touch is warm, the feeling spreading along your skin as you become soft and pliable in his arms.
You cling to him, matching his heaving breathing when he pulls away. He runs his calloused thumb across your bottom lip, groaning when your breath hitches and your eyes flutter closed.
“Sweetheart,” he murmurs, his expression almost pained.
You lick your lips, a clear invite for more, and he almost loses his last thread of sanity.
“Fuck,” he breathes out as his gaze dips to your mouth again, studying your lips like he wants to devour them.
The rain has completely soaked through your clothes but you could care less and when his lips find yours again you can feel the growl that moves through his throat. It sends you over the edge and you slide your hands down his chest, grasping at the wet material until you can slip your fingers under and feel his skin, keeping him impossibly close.
When you pull back, only to catch your breath, you follow the trail of a drop of rain as it runs down his temple and across his cheek, collecting on his upper lip. You gently suck it off, moaning when his hands grip your ass and he rocks his hips.
His hand smooths along the curve of your spine and his lips fall to your neck with a soft kiss.
He gathers you against him, running his nose along your throat until his warm breath fans your lips and his eyes are focused on yours.
“You’re so beautiful it hurts,” he whispers. “Let me take you home. Let me make you mine.”
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@lizette50 @hiddles-rose @lorilane33 @kmc1989
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pro-sipper · 2 months ago
Text
Had such a fun conversation with my therapist today. Honestly I'd been wanting to bring up the whole pro/anti debacle with her just to see what she'd say and how it would stack up against what proshippers and antishippers have to say about therapy online. No points for correctly guessing which side she agreed with
I talked about my job for about 3/5ths of the time there, then segued into The Discourse by telling her about how I'd been writing daily during the first two weeks of my new job, but hadn't been as active lately
And I even asked her if she had any other chronically online clients she talked to and she reassured me that she had plenty, and even one who had kind of explained this whole debate to her before (from a proshipper stance, and how she lost a friend over it)
I explained my whole issue with her about how fandom is so deep into purity culture these days. And how reckless and raunchy it was in the 00s and how I don't want to go back to that, but there's got to be some middle ground somewhere.
I told her about some of the stuff I've written and all the weird or nasty comments I've gotten on it and how that can be discouraging. And I told her that most of my works are smut, and of those smut works, all of them have at least a little sprinkling of trauma in them. And she said that can be a good way to look at things. And used a real life example of how something could be awful but there could be good things about it too. Specifically saying that nothing is just black and white, everything has shades of grey. And that digging the little good out of the big bad is a positive thing, actually
And I told her about being a young teen and reading a fic with incest in it and having the sense not to immediately jump to "I want to recreate this in real life" and she was like "Yes, exactly. It's like this one book I read, umm..." and I was like "Flowers In The Attic?" just as a guess and she was like "Yes!" and said just because you read about something doesn't mean you want it to be your reality
And I did my best to explain the whole concept of how some people seem to think that everyone engages with fiction by putting themselves in the shoes of the main character, so if the main character is doing awful things then you must want to do awful things too. Which of course she said was in no way true
And she told me that she was such a big fan of horror movies and loved to watch those as a way to relax and unwind bc it gets her mind off her work, but that doesn't mean she wants to be a killer lol. And I had to be like "Oh no you don't understand. They think killing and torture and cannibalism is totally fine, it's just when you bring sex into the equation that people start freaking out" and she was confused at that lol
And of course she thought it was ridiculous that people can get called a pedo or a groomer or whatever other awful things over fictional stories.
So yeah it was a fun and reassuring conversation. I know I'm leaving some stuff out but I can't remember any more specifics of what was said. Plus I was talking a mile a minute bc I wanted to say everything on my mind before time was up asfdsfs it was a monumental task.
OH and I even brought up how people will literally say "well my therapist said..." just for some other people to accuse them of lying or saying their therapist is corrupt or some other bullshit which she was understandably aghast at. Because she is a licensed therapist who went to Therapy School and knows better, and is not a magical villain promoting propaganda fed to her by Big Proship to corrupt her clients. You know how it is <3
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ataraxiaspainting · 3 months ago
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Morningstar's Road.
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Yan Chrollo x F Reader x Yan Feitan.
Synopsis: Your routine is average, to say the least. But due to Chrollo’s orders, Feitan cannot snatch you up yet – so he simply mirrors your behaviors instead for self-satisfaction. His boss does so too.
Warnings: Yandere themes, stalking, kidnapping, a few suggestive actions, manipulation, some descriptions anxiety/depression for the reader, animal death, and violence/some gore.
Word Count: 4.4k.
*~*~*~*
Feitan is so close to you that he can just about hear your beating heart. He could only see the back of your head, hair loose and surely will be knotted by the morning sun, but he can smell you whenever he is this close.
You always smell so nice, but for some reason, you smell even better – of that floral-scented oil you put on your neck and wrists before you go to bed. Maybe you added extra because it is the weekend.
You are on your right side – the fetal position was always your favorite – and hugging a plush that resembles your childhood cat. This was typical behavior for you; you had cried for days when your older sister called to say he had passed from old age. You weren’t weeping anymore, but you were when you saw the stuffed animal near the window of that dollar store you pass by daily on your way to work. You named it Silky, the same as the real thing, and tuck it in whenever you are in and out of bed. Feitan somewhat wished he could get the same treatment, to be in your arms as you sleep and to feel just a hint of your comforting warmth.
Feitan brought his own blanket.
It isn’t pastel pink like your sheets or your pillowcases or your pajamas and it has holes from moths and years of being stretched as he grew and his fights came to have higher and higher stakes.
If he had recalled correctly the bloodstains from the first time he was stabbed were just under the giant white skull pattern, although since most of the blanket is black it wouldn’t show even in the brightest of lights.
If he had recalled correctly the bloodstains from the first time it was stolen are still there too; on the bottom right corner.
“This type of nen won’t last forever, Fei.”
Feitan turns his neck, his bandana doing little to hide the slight scowl on his face. “I know.”
“Now, now… I never said you did not.” Chrollo responds while giving a small smile, still having the Bandit’s Secret in his right hand while your diary is held in his left. He turns to the next page while Feitan goes back to snuggling up beside you.
If Chrollo had a third arm, he could have the rest of your coffee you didn’t finish and left in your fridge. There is a lipstick stain, the color of that tint you often sport when in your office space. A light taffy color, he muses. 
Very fitting.
“I simply wanted you not to fall asleep too slow or too deep, we do have to leave by dawn after all.”
Feitan said no answer. Chrollo is used to that – a little too used to it, maybe, but Feitan has always stood out from fellow people from Meteor City even by the Phantom Troupe’s standards.
“Same oil?” He asks, and on cue, Feitan gives a loud sniffing sound.
“Yes.”
“Cute.”
Around your waist Feitan’s left arm lays, and his right hand holds the blanket tighter than a noose.
If Chrollo were to guess, if Feitan had a third arm he would put two of its fingers on your lips to feel how soft they were. Chrollo had done so before, but his friend hadn’t. He almost chuckles at the irony. The member of the Troupe the most intimate when it comes to matters of anatomy and torture felt that his fingertips having pink on them was a line he could not cross. It’s almost funny in a way. It’s adorable.
“Boss.”
“Hm?”
“For just a while,” Feitan starts. His tone is shy, like a little boy about to ask his classmate crush for their hand in marriage. “Can you read it to me?”
“‘It’?” Chrollo teases slightly, yet he knows what Feitan is talking about.
“The thing in your hand.”
“‘Thing’?”
Feitan huffs a bit and follows it up with a sigh.
“The… diary. Please.”
*~*~*~*
I think I’m getting worse and wondering if I have ever been happy with myself.
There is this girl that sits at the desk across from mine, Lyra is her name, and I don’t hate her by any means.
I just wish I was her, you know? She gets along with everyone in our office, Her hair is always nice. She has only been here since February and has already been promoted to the status it took me three years to get. 
Don’t get me wrong, she is incredibly nice and I always have a few laughs with her from time to time. Maybe it’s just my insecurities getting to me.
I wonder if sometimes she has similar thoughts when with other people, or even me if that were possible. I know she has a habit of procrastination and has a record of not handing in her work until a few days or weeks later – those are qualities I don’t have, but maybe she doesn’t feel anything negative about herself.
I’m known as the quiet and sweet girl at my job.
I’ve always had a bone to pick with the title, in a way. All my life that is what I was labeled as. People come to me for advice, and it does make me feel good, but I wish I could be a jokester like Lyra too.
That’s all I have… at least for now, I guess. I’m going to drink tea with honey and go to bed.
May 8th
*~*~*~*
The duo entered through the front door this time. You were gone tonight, as evidenced by the messy pile of umbrellas and house shoes that flooded the entrance, so they could break in without much sneaking around. They know where you headed to – and for now, Chrollo orders Feitan not to slit the man’s throat and gouge out his eyes. Your boyfriend, the only one of your past romantic interests not yet dead. Francis.
He’s quite the simple fellow as Chrollo had noted. Feitan was only focusing on where his organs started and ended when they both saw you with him near midnight months before.
“Not yet.”
Chrollo turns his head and looks down at Feitan as they walk down the hall. 
“I know you’re still thinking about it, but your actions may cause our plan to fail.”
No verbal response, though Chrollo notices how Feitan’s steps get slightly louder.
“Fine.”
“Are you saying you’re fine? Or are you still agreeing to not go haywire on the man yet?”
“New one.”
“Hm?”
“New word.” Feitan’s nails retract slightly from your walls as he rolls his eyes. “Hay… wire.”
His hand stops at a photo of your dead cat framed on the wall – he’s a kitten in this one, with his first collar and teenager you hugging him – but your face is cropped out.
He moves the hand away from it for just a few steps. Chrollo finds it polite of him – as polite as Feitan can be with others, anyway.
At the same time, they consider bringing the photos you took off your walls and onto whatever penthouse walls Chrollo has rented out for the next few months or so. It would be cute seeing smiling pictures of you all over, especially since you’ll be switching locations soon enough, and in turn, that expression will soon enough become rare. 
But when Chrollo thinks about the idea further, a problem arises. Your photos aren’t focused on you. They’re focused on your friends and family. You are always in the corner or hidden behind someone else. It’s of your own volition. Chrollo is sure of it. Perhaps he can get Shalnark to work his magic on them and ignore the teasing. Feitan would do nothing more than threaten to bash in his teeth, as with friends he is nothing more than a ‘grumpy wet cat’ – those are Shalnark and Uvogin’s own words. Not Chrollo’s.
“No.”
“Hm?”
“I’ll cut ‘em,” Feitan suggests while putting his sharp nails on your bedroom’s door frame.
“How do you intend to do so when there’s near nothing to cut out?” Chrollo asks. Feitan goes silent until he sits on your bed.
It’s still unmade. You must have ignored that chore list of yours again and opted to work extra hours instead.
Chrollo sits down at the small part of your room that is clean; your desk. It’s mainly used for just reading and video games, hence why the only two things not neatly in piles are a book and your computer. Shalnark told them both the password, but neither of them had decided to tread into that territory for multiple reasons. Firstly, neither of them knows a single thing about the internet and simulations. Secondly, Shalnark can just get whatever information they need without them looking inside it themselves anyway. Thirdly, they already know you enjoy wholesome things on there – the opposite of what you’re reading, if the books on your unfinished read pile mean anything to Chrollo – so there is no point in venturing for unneeded facts about you.
You’ll surely tell them yourself one day. 
Eventually. In maybe weeks. Months. Years. 
Eventually.
It’ll feel like forever and a day if you decide not to talk to either of them. Chrollo and Feitan have agreed without any argument that if you want something, you will ask them. Nicely, of course. 
Broken fingers aren’t necessarily something people flaunt. 
You wouldn’t brag about being forced onto a lap for hours out on a balcony either. 
You’ll eventually tell them. You have to. For your sake.
Eventually. Nothing lasts forever, after all.
“Fei. I promise you that this will be worth the wait.”
Feitan shakes his head, scoffing. “Will it? It would have been easier to just grab her and run.”
“I know,” Chrollo leans in a little, putting his elbows on his thighs. “I know. But you’ll lament it. I would have too if I had agreed with you to go down that route.”
A stare is the response.
It isn’t anger, Chrollo knows that much.
No. 
In all the years Chrollo has known Feitan, Feitan has never gone back on his loyalty to him and the Troupe.
But. But.
Chrollo hasn’t ever seen him have such a concurrence when there is still such division in his eyes.
“Are you sad?” He asks.
“No,” Feitan replies, looking at your cat plush instead of his leader of the full moon outside.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.”
*~*~*~*
Francis lives outside the city in a farmhouse. It’s up a tall hill with no pathway aside from little rectangular stones here and there – and if you ignore the animals and their housing, people would think that the place is deserted.
Feitan and Chrollo make their way to the white picket fence surrounding the chicken coop. They continue to bite down into the soil for worms or leftover grain. All female. Only three were brown; the others were smaller in frame and white.
“I’ve heard his eggs go for high prices in markets,” Chrollo grins a little. “Maybe I’ll raise some chickens of my own in my later years.”
Feitan raises an eyebrow at him.
“I was joking, Fei.” He clarifies.
“Ah.”
Feitan continues to walk with his hands still stuffed into his coat pockets. 
Chrollo looks at the farmhouse up at the top of the hillside. The lights are still on, meaning you were most likely still up and about in there.
The rooster resting on top of the mailbox makes eye contact with him for a few moments.
“Don’t scream,” Chrollo murmurs, his words sweet as sugar.
“What?” Feitan asks, not even bothering to turn around.
“I’m talking to the rooster.”
“[First]’s rubbing off on you too much.” His friend rolls his eyes and makes sure not to step on a twig.
“Don’t pretend you haven’t noticed how these animals look at us.”
“They’re animals now. What came before… that doesn’t matter anymore.”
“Maybe to you – but I find it intriguing.”
“Talk later,” Putting his hand on the fence gate that leads to Francis’ garden, Feitan turns his head for just a moment. “Near. Quiet. Look.”
For once, Chrollo is the one that does the nodding.
The gate gives off a little squeak as it is opened. It reminds them of Francis’ prized pet pig Annie – though she is only allowed to be inside.
There are all sorts of vegetables and some fruits back here. Cucumbers, chili peppers, watermelons, corn, tomatoes, peaches, pears. They’re all in pristine condition, and so are the flowers growing in pots near the far-off window sills.
Feitan considers giving you the daisies. 
Chrollo considers giving you the marigolds.
They both look at the pig’s head hastily buried under the soil, her ears still popping out and facing the moon. Despite the interment being new, perhaps even being dug today, flies have already spread to the top part of the head and ears. They’re happy you didn’t see her because that would be quite an awful gift from your boyfriend.
Francis is probably happy too, not that they care.
From what Shalnark was able to gather from someone who barely has any social life, Francis moved here from another country about four years ago. He acquired this farm and its land almost immediately afterward. 
From a lottery, Shalnark had explained to them. Or an inheritance. Either way, man’s life is going pretty dang good. Too good, actually, because my senses are tingling too much.
Shalnark was right in that regard. Francis may adopt animals from time to time from farmers’ markets, but a majority of them suddenly appear a few days or weeks apart. There were three white chickens he had purchased. Then after a month or so, there were twelve. The three brown ones came all at once one day.
“Where’s Annie?” They hear you ask as you open one of the windows to get some fresh air. “She usually runs to the door to see me…”
Using hatsu to conceal their presence, the pair aren’t detected among the plants.
“She ran away.”
Feitan almost snickers at your boyfriend’s answer, looking down at the flies and corpse rotting beneath his feet. He didn’t mind the smell of rotting flesh – he has almost always enjoyed it since he was in his teenage years.
Chrollo’s feet don’t dig into the soil – he has opted to instead stand on the few pieces of stone that are by the cucumber plants. He makes a note to go to the laundromat after this; even though it has already been the third time in a row this week alone.
If he can convince Feitan, they’ll steal some things from your place to wash up too – Francis has always been touchy, after all.
“That’s weird,” You say worriedly, not looking into the garden anymore but instead inside; to Annie’s little bed huddled next to the window. “Did you leave the gate open?”
“Yes, I’m still rather upset about it but I’m sure she’ll be found soon.”
Soon. Chrollo grins a bit as he closes his eyes, imagining the moment he’ll save you from this man. Soon isn’t enough. No. This…
This is the moment.
This is the day.
This is the time.
“Feitan.”
“Hm?”
Francis will die today. Or tomorrow maybe, Chrollo isn’t completely sure.
“Don’t make it too bloody,” He instructs, getting off the stones and onto the dirty tiles of the garden’s path to the back door. “I’ll focus on her. We’ll leave the others alone.”
“Fine.”
“Thank you, Feitan.”
Feitan looks confused for a moment. If Chrollo were someone who hadn’t grown up beside him, he wouldn’t have noticed the small millisecond of his friend showing emotion. ‘For what?’ He wants to ask. 
Chrollo knows it. He knows it so he answers the silent question. “For being more vulnerable with her and I. [First] seems to have rubbed off on you too much too, huh?”
“I don’t like your jokes,” Feitan replies as he stuffs his pockets even more – perhaps to hide his balled-up fists. Whether they were made from the hatred of Francis or the annoyance of everything else is up to interpretation. No one will be getting an answer anyway, even Feitan himself. “You’re very happy lately.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Chrollo’s grin widens just a smidge more. “We’re about to rescue a princess.”
From that look, he knows Feitan agrees with his reasoning and is happy as well.
*~*~*~*
“You’re beautiful, darling.”
You’re laid out on Francis’ bed. It’s rather large for a room this size, but it is comfortable to undress on. You picked a periwinkle blue dress today with buttons on only its top front side. Francis wanted to help but you declined. You don’t decline a lot of things, especially when it comes to him. Francis is annoyed by that but he tries not to let it show. He hides a lot of things from you.
“Thank you.” You sheepishly smile, a light flush on your cheeks as you start to undo your buttons.
“Of course,” You’re his favorite by far. You aren’t stuck up or are with him just for his money. You’re so nice to him. You’re so sweet to him. “I wouldn’t lie to you, honey.”
You aren’t like those whores, those sluts, those fucking cheap little bitches.
“I’ll take it slow since it’s your first time and all.” He promises.
You look up at him.
Your frown is just barely noticeable – but noticeable enough for him to see.
“What’s wrong?” Francis asks.
“Lyra’s still missing… I’m worried.”
“Why?” Francis asks, getting more annoyed the more time you spend covered up. “Why are you so worried about her right now? It’s not the time for that.”
“I don’t know,” You look at the open window, cool air still blowing in along with the slight scent of flowers. “I really don’t, I just… have suddenly gotten a little sad just now.”
You’re shivering a little.
“Ah, you must be cold.” He deflects. Having only his shirt on now, he walks up to the windowsill and looks at the vegetable patch. With both hands, he pulls the window closed. “Better?”
You must not have heard him, because you keep playing with your buttons instead of being fully undressed already.
“Could you…” 
Ah. You did hear him, but you seem concerned for something else. That’s fine, as long as you aren’t playing with him and will soon attempt to run away. 
“Close the curtain? Please? I’d really… appreciate it.”
“Sure,” Francis replies, his smile returning to his face. “Anything for you. Just get comfortable, pumpkin.”
The wicked thing came all at once before either of you could blink. Shards of glass flew into Francis and into the bedroom walls. Francis screams as his bleeding hands are quick to go to his eyes, his fingers attempting to get the glass shards out of them before his vision is gone for good. In front of you was a stranger in a suit – he pushed you out of the way in a fraction of a second and onto the floor. The bed had shielded you and him. 
“Are you alright?”
You’re too shocked for words, peeking from behind the bed to where Francis is still screaming.
In front of him was a man in all black stepping on the back of his head with one of his feet. The soles of his boots seemed lodged into Francis’ scalp, and it takes you a moment to realize why. There were spikes on them; not that you could see them much because of how hidden they seemed to be right now. They’re silver judging by the color of their slight sparkle, but the rusted kind. No. Maybe that’s just the bloodstains.
The feeling in your chest is so horrible like you’re very sick. There’s pressure on your heart. It’s strangling you, despite the taller stranger’s grasp on your shoulders being so pleasant. So tender.
“What are you doing?” You screech. The sound doesn’t make either of the intruders flinch. Francis does instead. “Let go of him!”
The shorter man doesn’t look at you, opting to wedge the spikes of his shoes further into Francis’ brain. You try to get up but the man in the suit pulls you back down, shushing you as you protest and cry. “Don’t… it’ll be over soon. I told him to be gentle, you see.”
“Gentle?” You repeat.
“Yes, my dear.” One of his hands rises from your shoulders to where your eyes are. You struggle some more and the stranger whispers something in your ear. “Behave – I can always tell Feitan to torture him the amount he deserves if I wanted to. I know he wants to.”
You deflate and your eyes are forced shut by his palm. “Please stop… I don’t know what we did, just please-”
“You didn’t do anything,” The other man – Feitan if the taller man had named him right and he wasn’t just some assassin he hired; he said his name so tenderly too like he is an old friend – interrupts you. “He did.”
You feel like you’re about to throw up all the wonderful food you just ate. Chicken pot pie, beef tenderloin, roasted pork belly – it all feels like it is about to release from your throat and onto the wooden planked floor below.
“Oh dear,” Another hand covers your nose and mouth. Instead of blood you now smell cologne – sandalwood and amber. “Can you please hurry up, Fei? She looks like she’s about to collapse.”
*~*~*~*
“It’s a wonderful time to be alive,” Chrollo says as he puts the key into his car’s lock. It’s embedded with little multicolored jewels – he had commissioned some artist to customize it for him a week or so ago while Feitan went into your home on his own. “Or at least a wonderful night. Wouldn’t you say so?”
You’re in the passenger seat. You fell unconscious after Francis’ barely alive body got its fingers broken one by one. Some of his blood got on your skirt, but Chrollo is sure that the laundromat will fix that just like the workers will fix his clothes. As long as he pays them enough or threatens them enough. The latter would be more fun for Feitan but the former would let him be seen as a kind patron. Whichever way the coin flips. 
He doesn’t blame you for fainting. If he hadn’t been born in Meteor City and hadn’t been raised in a constant state of fear and a constant battle for power over others, he would most likely do the same. 
Feitan is in the back, silent. His hands now have gloves on them and are now brushing through your hair.
“Should we make the pit stop or go straight?” After the second question, the car’s lights turn on.
“Bed.”
The car starts moving into the barren street. 
“Alright,” Chrollo chuckles a little at the insistence in Feitan’s tone. “We can get some of [First]’s clothes tomorrow then. She’ll probably sleep throughout the day.” 
He doesn’t explain why because they both already know the reason. There is a short chain attached to the main bed. Depending on your behavior early on, it will either lengthen or become briefer. 
There are also some syringes in the mirror vanity that Feitan asked him over and over to keep in case of an emergency. He doubts there will be any real threat where they would have to use them. 
Feitan doesn’t. Feitan doesn’t doubt many things.
“Blankets too.” 
Feitan doesn’t ask for many things either, much less demand them.
“Ah,” Chrollo makes the left turn as his fingers tap on the steering wheel. It’s a song you enjoy listening to on your avenue home. He knows you aren’t listening to it but that doesn’t matter right now. He’ll continue to do so until your mind associates the tune with small controlled adventures to and fro and not you having a life of your own. “All of them?”
“Yes. Please.”
“You don’t say that word very often,” He teases, looking at the flat glass mirror overhead.
“Hmph.”
Putting his hand on your thigh, Chrollo continues to drive while still glancing upward now and then. 
*~*~*~*
Your heartbeat has calmed down. Feitan is now able to look at your face as you sleep. 
You look at peace now. When he had placed you on the bed, your eyebrows furrowed for a moment – perhaps your subconscious being afraid – or disgusted – by him.
The flowery scent of your perfume vanished long ago and has been replaced by a stinging one. Feitan doesn’t mind. He doesn’t mind a lot of things when it comes to you.
Unlike the bodies of those who have died by his hands, Feitan places the white blanket on top of you gently like you would shatter if he was just a tad bit rougher. 
Well… Body bags don’t really count as blankets, do they? They are meant to be ripped open and stuffed full of parts no wandering soul hopes to find.
Chrollo decides to break the silence. “After she adjusts a little, we’ll leave. Or you can stay if you want. I can carry her things on my own.”
Feitan turns to look at him.
“Pictures.”
Chrollo sighs. “Alright. But we’ll get Shal to edit them. No cutting.”
“...Tch. Fine. Silky too.” A thumb is pressed against your lips. After it is lifted, there is a light pink that covers its print.
“It’s a pretty color, isn’t it?” Chrollo muses, hanging his suit jacket on the edge of his sofa as he holds his book. “I’ll try to get the same shade for her when she runs out of it. Though I suspect it will be a while before then, huh?”
“It’s fine,” Feitan states, rubbing his thumb against your lips more. “She will always be pretty to me.”
“Never took you for the romantic type, Fei.”
“Hmph.”
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