#at least last time he wore it he was also in the studio hope the same is true now

[dreamings-free]

.

[2chopsticks2eyes]

Obsession

2chopsticks2eyes - Masterlist

Pairing:

Bang Chan x Fem Reader

Hwang Hyunjin x Fem Reader

Themes: Smut, Pining

Word Count: ~6k | AO3

Warnings: Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Cussing, Oral Sex, Hand Jobs, Vaginal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Vaginal Sex, Cum Eating, Pining, Protected Sex, Ambiguous/Open Ending

Summary: You find out that this new guy you are going to start dating, Chris, is your best friend's new roommate. You are excited, but your best friend, Hyunjin (who may or may not be madly in love with you) is not so thrilled. Chris notices this and the two men settle on some sort of... agreement.

Author's Note: This work was inspired by a request from @stayandot8. I think this might be the shortest fic I've written, but I promise I put my heart into it! 💖 Proofread was only skimmed over so I hope it isn't trash. 🙃

__________________________________________

Hyunjin had been your best friend for what felt like ages. However, in reality, you two only met a couple of years ago when you started teaching with him at an art studio. You bonded with him over your shared affinity with fine arts and it was the most natural friendship you had ever experienced. You were just simply comfortable with one another.

Some might say a bit too comfortable. At least for a friendship between a boy and a girl.

Since you were co-workers, you spent most of your time with the man. You would have your meals with him, spent your days off with him, and even spent some nights at each other’s places if one of you was too lazy to go home for the night.

You don’t think that there was anything you wouldn’t be comfortable with around him. That’s what lead you to ask him to come shopping with you for your new date.

“How long have you even been talking to this guy?” He said as he stole your coffee from your hands while you strolled through the outlet mall, looking for a place to shop. He emptied the contents of the drink and tossed it into a nearby garbage bin.

“Just a few weeks, but we really clicked on Tinder and he agreed that he wasn’t just looking for a quick fuck.” You glanced in one of the windows of a shop and decided against it, continuing your walk with your bestie.

“And you’re sure he’s not some creep?” He glanced at you speculatively.

“I’m sure, you worry wart. Plus, if he is you know I can handle myself.” You bumped elbows with him and he rolled his eyes.

“Okay, okay fine. Just wanna look out for my girl.” He winked down at you and you scoffed. Always the biggest flirt, this guy. “What’s this guy’s name again? I think I tuned you out when you said it before.” He said nonchalantly.

“Yah!” You weakly smacked him on the arm, making him dramatically hold onto it as if you had shot him. “It’s Bang Chan, you pabo!” He immediately halted in his tracks, making you stop as well to raise an eyebrow at him. “Jin? Did you malfunction?” You shook his arm with a chuckle.

He stared down at you in disbelief. “Did you say Bang Chan?” He sounded as if you just told him that you were the Queen of England and you giggled.

“Uhhh yeah? He also goes by Chris. Why? Wait–” Your tone quickly changed into one of exasperation. “Hyunjin, please don’t tell me you went to a fortune teller again. Did they ward you away from any ‘Bang’ family names or something? I told you to stop going after what happened last time!�� You scolded, memory flashing back to when he only wore white 24/7 because it was ‘guaranteed to bring him great wealth’. You had to help him with his laundry for weeks because he couldn’t stop getting stains on everything he wore.

“No, no, no. What does this guy look like?” He looked almost panicked now and you started to become concerned.

“Ummm, well… He’s a bit shorter than you. Super muscular with broad shoulders. A super bright smile and dimples that I just want to swim in…” You started to sound wistful as you described the dreamy beefcake. “Oh and don’t even get me started on his di–”

“Oh god, Aegiya, STOP.” The man sounded disgusted and you doubled over laughing. You were only a year younger than him and he just had to milk it by always calling you a baby.

“Dude, what’s the deal?” You finally wondered.

He huffed and continued walking, annoyance written all over his features as he stared straight forward. “Well, apparently it appears that your new boy toy also happens to be the new roommate I got last week…” He grumbled and now it was time for you to stop in your tracks.

“What??” To say the least, you were pretty surprised.

He just continued to walk and you scurried over to catch up to him. “Yyyyep. Congrats. I now get to help you plan for your date with my fucking roommate.” He sounded super put out and you cackled at him.

“Are you fucking kidding me?! That’s fucking hilarious!” After a moment of your chortling, your brain cut you off short when you felt a lightbulb blink to life. “Oh my god, Jinnie! You have to tell me about him! Do you think he’s into more of a wild girl, or a shy one? Does he cook? Clean? What kind of music does he–”

“Hey little lady, you probably know more about him than I do. Like I said, he just recently moved in.” You gave him puppy dog eyes and he glanced over at you momentarily, quickly looking straight forward again with a disbelieving huff. “All I can tell you is that he produces music, he constantly works on it day in and day out as if his life depends on it. I’m surprised he even found the time to date.”

You smiled to yourself. He made time for me? As if fate had heard your conversation, the two of you started getting nearer to the perfect store. “Let’s go in here, Jinnie!” You grabbed his arm to pull him in, but he was as firm as a statue.

“Nuh-uh. Nooo way am I going into a sex shop with you to help you bone my fucking roommate. You’re nuts.” He looked at you as if you had grown two heads.

“Awww c’mon, Jinnie, pleeease? I need the male objective’s eye! I don’t want to go in alone!” You grabbed onto his hand and looped your fingers to intertwine with his. “Please…” You donned your cutest pout and squeezed his hand.

His brows furrowed and he looked like he was having a genuine internal battle. “Damnit, Aegiya…” He closed his eyes and sighed deeply. “You’d better make this quick. AND you owe me a shit ton of ice cream after this…”

A smile burst out across your face and you threw your arms around his shoulders, giggling like a school girl. “Ahhh! Thankyouthankyouthankyou, Jinnie! This is why I love you!” When you pulled back from the embrace, he looked annoyed, but you could definitely see a rosy color dusted across his cheeks and a deep red bloom on the tips of his ears.

You intertwined fingers again and dragged him into the store.

You felt like a kid in a candy store, finding set after set of lingerie and handing it to Hyunjin to hold onto. “Okay, I think we’ve accumulated enough, little Miss Pamela Anderson!” He shouted at you from behind the pile he had stacked in his arms.

You giggled at his drowning appearance and led him to the changing rooms where you sat him down on the bench just outside the door. “Wait here, I’m gonna try them on!” You grabbed the first set from his arms and skipped off to try it on.

You struggled a bit on the first one just because it was so intricate, but you ended up figuring it out. It had crossed your mind that it might feel a bit weird for some girls to show their male best friend themselves wearing lingerie, but, again, you were just so comfortable with Hyunjin that you didn’t think twice.

“Jin, I think this might be a bit much, what do you think?” You said as you opened the door to show him.

At first, he wasn’t really paying attention, just mindlessly scrolling away on his phone. However, when he looked up, the phone clattered to the ground, which he quickly retrieved while clearing his throat for some reason. “Uh– I– Um, it looks– uh… good? I guess?” He said, desperately avoiding eye contact with you.

“Yeah, but look–” You turned around to show him the backside that looked like a damned jungle of straps, buckles, and latches. “Doesn’t this seem too complicated?” When you looked at him again, his whole head and neck were a deep crimson as he zoned out on your ass. “Jinnie?”

He quickly snapped out of it and his eyes darted anywhere and everywhere away from you. “U-Uh yeah– y-yeah…” 

You figured you didn’t want it to be too hard to get out of because that’s just not sexy if you have to struggle in the moment. You just shrugged. “Okay, then. Next!” You grabbed the next piece off the pile and shut yourself back into the changing room.

You repeated this several times, you put on the next set after the next set, continuing to ask Hyunjin for his input until you slipped on the final piece.

It was perfect. A completely black (which you knew Chris liked) bustier with mesh, lace fabric woven over the spines of the top. Complete with a garter belt and crotchless panties. All you needed were some stockings and it would be perfect.

However, you obviously couldn’t show these to Hyunjin, they were crotchless! And contrary to popular belief, you did have some standards. Anyway, you knew it was perfect with or without his opinion.

You quickly changed back into your clothes and stepped out, items in hand and ready to be purchased. “This is the one! Ready to go?”

Instead of a grumble with a remark like ‘finally’ or something equally as chafing coming from his mouth, you were surprised to hear him say– “What? That’s it? But you didn’t…” He stopped mid-sentence and blushed.

“I couldn’t show you this one, Jin. It was a bit much, even for you. But, trust me, you would have loved it.” You said enthusiastically as you walked to the checkout counter.

He just simply replied with– “Oh… okay…” And was suspiciously silent for the rest of the day.

- - - - - - - - - - 

Jinnie 🥟🍦:

Ur date is tonight right?

Aegiya ❣🎨:

?Yeah, why

?Omg did he say something

?Did he ask u abt me

?He’s not calling it off is he

As much as Hyunjin wanted to lie and say yes, he wouldn’t do that to you.

Jinnie 🥟🍦:

No no, I was just checking

Was thinking about going out tonight too

(He wasn’t)

Jinnie 🥟🍦:

Ya know, give u guys privacy

Aegiya ❣🎨:

Ur such a sweetheart, Jinnie

But I don’t want to kick u out of ur own home

We will probably go back to my place anyway

The thought gave Hyunjin a knot in the back of his throat.

Jinnie 🥟🍦:

Oh ok cool

Have fun

(He hoped you wouldn’t)

Aegiya ❣🎨:

😉 Will do

He grumbled at his phone and flopped onto his back on the bed. Ever since he met you, he knew you were special. However, since you were coworkers, apparently that meant he had a big ole ‘FRIENDZONE’ stamped on his forehead in red and he would never make it any further than #besties.

But it was fine. He was just happy to have you in his life because you were, in fact, a really cool person.

You had dated a few people here and there in the years since you two became friends and he obviously wasn’t a fan, but he was happy any time you were happy, so he stayed silent.

However, when he found out that you were going to date his freshly new roommate, he started to get a bit more agitated. What if you two really hit it off? Yes, you would be around a lot, but would you still come around for him? Or would you only want to come to see Chris? Not to mention the fact that he would have to listen to the man fucking you just down the hall!

…

Okay, maybe the idea of being within such proximity to you while you were moaning and whining and getting fucked silly might be a turn-on… even if it wasn’t him making you feel that way…

Ever since you took him shopping, it was like his horniness was amplified by ten and his mind was on a constant loop of images of you in that lingerie. Whatever caused you to feel the need to model them to Hyunjin, he didn’t know, but now the godforsaken thoughts plagued him day and night! 

Sometimes he even got a little pissed, thinking you were just stringing him along to tease him, but he would quickly come to his senses because in his heart he knew that you loved him. Even if it was just as a friend.

A knock on Hyunjin’s door disturbed him from his thoughts. Of course, the man of the hour would show up right in the middle of his very important brooding session. “Come in!” He shouted to his roommate.

The door opened and he was greeted with the bright smile of that damned Aussie. Hyunjin couldn’t even hate him and that pissed him off even more. Chris was just such a genuinely good guy. He could literally befriend anyone he wanted and he was super talented too. Hyunjin never had any self-esteem issues, he knew he was gorgeous, but the fact that Chris was the one to snatch you kind of hurt his pride.

“Hey, roomie! Whatcha doin?” He plopped down next to the younger on his bed.

“Just thinking of where I should go tonight. I’m not really interested in hearing…” The words were left unsaid, but Chris understood right away. 

Chris was pretty surprised when you told him that Hyunjin was your best friend, but he was also kind of happy that you were already so tight with his new roommate.

Although, when Chris talked to Hyunjin about the topic, he noticed that the taller man became a bit sullen any time your name was brought up. Chris could instantly tell that Hyunjin was in love with you.

He thought he should have maybe been pissed or concerned, but he wasn’t. He moreso felt sympathy for the young man. Yes, Chris was also incredibly smitten with you, but that only made him feel more sorry for the younger. Because he knew the effect you had on both of them.

He placed a gentle hand on Hyunjin’s shoulder. “Hey, man, listen,” Chris said apologetically. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you like her. I’m not blind.”

Hyunjin shot up into a seated position. “W-what are you talking about? I’m not into her like that at all!” He himself knew he didn’t sound believable. “We’re just friends…”

Chris just sighed. “Okay, sure, but the statement still stands. You don’t have to leave our place on account of me. Me and her can go back to her place after.” Chris gnawed on his lip as if he was contemplating something and Hyunjin was intrigued. “Or…” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “We could still come over with you here…”

Hyunjin couldn’t lie to himself, he always wanted to hear what you would sound like in bed, but it just felt… wrong? “I dunno hyung… I don’t want to spoil your guys’ date.” Although it pained him to say it.

“Well that’s the thing, I don’t think you would.” Chris countered and Hyunjin just looked at him quizzically. “Okay, let me explain. So she told you we met on Tinder, right?” Hyunjin slowly nodded, not sure where he was going with this. “Well, we really started off talking about our… sexual preferences–” Hyunjin was certainly intrigued now. “And she had mentioned once that she always wanted to try a threesome…”

Hyunjin’s jaw dropped. “Oh…” He didn’t know what else to say. Where was Chris heading with this?

“Take it however you like, but just know that if you just so happened to be home and just so happened to walk in on us… I don’t think she would be opposed to some… company… if you get what I mean.” Chris hinted and Hyunjin was frozen on the spot.

“And you want that??” Hyunjin was flabbergasted.

Chris chuckled. “I mean, I know what it’s like to be friendzoned by a girl and I also know what it’s like to have bad blood between roommates. And I don’t want either of those things, so why not let her decide?” Chris was genuinely too good to be true. “And don’t think I don’t want her to myself, because, trust me, I do. But you are an important part of her life. It’s best that she knows how you feel before things get too serious.”

Hyunjin didn’t even know how to respond. Hell, he didn’t know how to think in that exact moment. All he could register was the word that came from his mouth. “Okay…”

- - - - - - - - - - 

Chris was a perfect gentleman, through and through. The dinner he took you to was delicious beyond reason and the conversations he led were the most engaging that you had ever experienced. Everything just felt so easy with him. Plus, the chemistry between the two of you was off the charts.

Small touches and lingering hands left you buzzing with need and you found yourself having a hard time keeping your hands to yourself. The only odd thing, not unwelcome, just odd, was the fact that he kept bringing up the topic of your best friend the whole night.

He wanted your opinion of him and what you thought of him. Some people might have thought it was out of jealousy, but he didn’t really give off the jealous vibe. He seemed to genuinely want to know what your relationship was like. And you loved your best friend, so you were happy enough to discuss him.

By the end of dinner, the sexual tension was suffocating and you just wanted to rip his clothes off then and there. When you hopped into the car and he started driving, you felt yourself shaking with anticipation when he rested his hand on your bare thigh where your little black dress was too short to cover.

You were super impatient to get back to your place, but as he kept driving, you realized he wasn’t heading in the direction of your apartment where he picked you up. “Hey Chris, do you know the way back to my place?” You turned to look at him to find him blushing. God, he’s cute.

He cleared his throat. “Well, I um… I was wondering if I could take you back to mine? I’m sorry it was a bit presumptuous of me, but I have a surprise for you…”

Electricity shot through you and you didn’t think twice to consider what you told Hyunjin. “Not presumptuous at all! I’m…” You blushed when he glanced at you with his stupidly sexy half-grin. “...looking forward to it.” Your eyes were glued to his face and you squeezed your thighs in arousal when he slid his hand a bit further up your thigh.

He looked over at you just as you bit your lip, your eyes hazy with lust. He bit his own lip to suppress a smile when he looked back at the road and you felt his hand slide to your inner thigh as his fingers closed in on your crotchless panties. Never touching, just teasing.

- - - - - - - - - - 

When you arrived at his and Hyunjin’s apartment, everything happened in a blur. As the front door closed behind you, you felt Chris’ hands wrap around your waist from behind and a warm press of lips close in on your neck. 

Chris was intoxicating, everything about him made you dizzy with want and you quickly spun around in his arms, throwing your arms around his neck and smashing into his lips with your own. He instantly pressed you up against the wall and you arched up into him, silently begging for more. His arms were wrapped low around your waist to pull you suffocatingly close and you kicked your black heels off when you wrapped your legs around his waist.

He responded by holding you up underneath your dress by both ass cheeks and he pressed his slowly hardening dick against you as he moved to devour your neck. He grinded into you and you threw your head back as far as the wall would allow you as you moaned his name.

“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous.” He growled into your neck as he kneaded your ass with his fingertips. 

All you could reply with was– “Ngh, fuck, Chris. More. I need more...” Your voice was whiny and already fucked out, but by the low groan he breathed into your neck, he was very much in a similar state.

He pulled you back from the wall and carried you down the hall to his bedroom where he eagerly plopped both of you down on the bed. You writhed underneath him, trying to pull him impossibly closer as he moved to grope your breasts over your dress. You whined and pleaded for more and he complied.

He released one of your breasts and slid his hand down between your legs. What he felt (or really the lack of what he felt) made him gasp and look down at you incredulously. The crotchless panties were definitely a good choice. “Fuck…” He pounced on you with one long, hungry kiss and then released you to crawl down between your legs. 

The moment you felt his mouth close around your clit, you saw stars. You cried out with labored breaths and it took him no time at all to push you over the edge. You curled your fingers in his dark brown locks and he guided you through your orgasm, head popping up with a breathtaking smile when you came down. “Holy shit, Chris… that was probably the fastest anyone has ever got me to cum.” You giggled and you internally cooed when he blushed at the statement.

However, that was short-lived as the sex-god side of Chris returned and he ripped off his shirt and slacks, leaving him in just his boxers as he nestled back down to sit against the headboard. “C’mere, baby girl.” He patted his lap and you quickly crawled over to straddle him. His hands instantly flew to your hips and ass where your dress rode up.

Now was the moment you had been waiting for. You decided to cut to the chase and you grabbed the hem of your dress and slowly pulled it up over your head. When the fabric that was blinding you was finally pulled from your face, Chris’ expression was almost humorous. You felt his fingers gradually tighten more and more on your ass as he assessed your undergarments.

His face looked like he was in some sort of trance of crazed hunger and when he looked back into your eyes, you saw pure carnal desire. “What do you think? I got it just for you, Chris.” You said with hooded eyelids that ate up every inch of skin he had on display.

“What do I think?” His voice must have dropped about ten octaves and he harshly pulled you to directly sit on his achingly hard cock through his boxers. “I think you're a motherfucking goddess.”

He then proceeded to capture your lips once more in an absolutely filthy kiss, tongues clashing and teeth gnawing. You started grinding on his dick and he growled into your mouth, pulling away moments after you started.

“Do you want your surprise, baby girl?” He said as he guided your grinding hips with his hands. You were so fucked out that all you could do was nod your head profusely. He then turned to look at the door you had left open behind you. “Hyunjin-ah, would you like to come in?”

You immediately stilled and whipped your head around. You felt the hands on your hips tighten. “Jinnie?!” You were shocked. How long had he been watching??? By the completely beet-red face and the huge bulge in his pants, you would say it had been more than just a few moments.

You heard a shushing from the man underneath you and you turned back to him. He looked deep into your eyes and you felt him slowly glide his thumb over your sopping clit, making you gasp and your eyelids flutter. “I asked Hyunjinnie to help bring your fantasy to life.” You instantly knew he was talking about the threesome you had hinted at one time. “And he was more than willing to help out.”

You slowly turned back to your best friend that had taken a few steps further into the room. “Is that true, Jinnie?” You were mostly worried about his own comfort. 

He nodded with a hazy stare. “It’s not exactly how I pictured it happening… but yeah…” What did he mean by that? 

You didn’t have much time to think on it, however, because you suddenly felt Chris easing a finger inside you. You gasped and whipped back around to face him, your hands flying to his broad shoulders to ground yourself. 

“Do you mind if he watches while I fuck your pretty little hole first?” Your mouth was perpetually hung open as you nodded in compliance. “Good girl, now get on all fours, gorgeous.” He pulled his finger out of you and, before you did as you were told, you grabbed Chris’ hand and took his spunk-covered finger into your mouth. Both men groaned at the sight and you weren't ashamed to admit that you were feeling pretty proud of yourself. 

Once you released his digit and you turned to do what you were commanded to, you looked straight into Hyunjin’s eyes and crawled to where he was standing at the foot of the bed. Without warning, you grabbed him by his belt loops and pulled him flush to you where you stood on your knees on the bed. You could feel his erection push into your stomach and you felt a new wave of arousal stir in your core.

“We can talk about this later, but right now, I want this…” You deftly undid the top button of his shirt. “...and these…” You moved a hand down and palmed at his hard-on, making him gasp, then popped open the button on his jeans as well. You stretched up and brought his head down so you could whisper in his ear. “...gone.”

When you released him with a wicked smile and resumed your position on all fours like you were asked, Hyunjin quickly got to work on your request.

You suddenly felt a hand gently wrap around your neck to pull you up and back flush against Chris, his now bare cock resting between the cleft of your ass cheeks. “You think you can take all of me, sweetie?” He said as he grabbed your wrist with his free hand and lead you to feel his sizable dick. You almost choked on your gasp. Now, you knew Chris had a huge cock, you both had sent each other plenty of nudes these past weeks, but to feel it in your hand, it just didn’t feel real.

You tried to turn to look at it, but his hand on your neck kept you still and you whimpered. “Now, you have some options, baby girl. Either you take all of me now without seeing it first–” To be honest, that sounded pretty hot, but you were also dying to take a peek. “...OR, you can look all you want, but I’ll get off in that sweet mouth of yours instead while Hyunjinnie does whatever he wants with your tasty little cunt.”

You couldn’t control the pornographic moan that escaped your lips from the pure filth coming from his lips. You could see Hyunjin start to form a slight grin from watching this unfold and that in itself had you shaking with want. “B-but what if I want both?”

You could feel the rumble against your back coming from the depths of Chris’ chest from the question. “A greedy little one, are we?” You then felt yourself abruptly being pushed face-first into the mattress with your ass in the air. “Then I guess we’ll just have to give you all we’ve got…” Chris growled as you heard the tear of a condom wrapper open.

“J-just–!” You looked up at Hyunjin, as best as you could from your squished position, from his rushed outburst. “Just… don’t hurt her…” He sounded a bit hesitant to say it, but he looked down into your eyes with pure concern. Your heart soared.

“Jinnie…” You held up your hand and he crouched down next to your face. You crooked your neck up to whisper directly into his ear, loud enough for Chris to hear. “I want you to hurt me…”

He pulled back incredulously and his shocked eyes bore into yours. “Holy fuck, can you be any more perfect?”

“I know, right?” Chris said with a chuckle.

Everything that happened next all happened simultaneously. You felt Chris shimmying behind you and felt his warm breath fan over your folds. You felt him lick a long, fat stripe up your opening then felt him shimmy again to get into position. You felt the tip of his cock wedge its way into your entrance and you saw Hyunjin step back and finally drop his boxers to the floor.

Your. Jaw. Dropped.

Not only from the breathtaking feeling of Chris’ dick splitting you in two, but also at the mesmerizing sight of Hwang Hyunjin stripped bare with his beautiful, leaking cock in his hand. “Like what you see, Aegiya?” All you could do was nod dumbly with a red face that was struggling to adjust to Chris’ size.

You needed a distraction from the pain. You pulled yourself up on your hands and reached out to Hyunjin. “Wanna taste…” You whined pitifully.

He cockily smirked with his tongue prodding at his lip. “Anytime, baby.” You felt fire in your veins from his words and you felt in desperate need for more stimulation.

Just as you grabbed ahold of Hyunjin’s gorgeous cock, you pushed your ass back into Chris, shoving him even deeper inside you and the three of you moaned simultaneously.

You quickly started lapping up all of the precum that coated Hyunjin’s tip and he slowly tangled his hands in your hair. “You taste so good, Jinnie.” You said with fluttered lashes, right before you took his head all the way in.

“Fuck, Aegiya. You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this…” That one statement blew your mind and you instantly looked back on your entire relationship. Hyunjin wanted me?

Again, you couldn’t think on it long, because Chris suddenly decided to start pistoning fast and hard into you, shoving you down onto Hyunjin’s cock even further. You held back your gag reflex and allowed yourself to bask in the eroticism of being used by these fucking drop-dead gorgeous men.

“Goddamn, baby girl. You’re doing so *ngh* fucking good for us *huff* …taking all this cock so fucking well.” Chris growled as he nailed you over and over again in all the right places. 

“Shit, Aegi. You’re so fucking sexy with your mouth around me *hiss* fuuuck you’re so damn good at that!” Hyunjin threw his head back with a laugh and it was one of the most beautiful sights you had ever seen. “I can’t wait to taste you, baby.”

That’s what threw you over the edge, screaming as loud as you were able to with a throat full of cock. They both seemed to slow down as you rode your orgasm, but they were definitely not done with you yet.

Once you seemed to have come down from your high, Hyunjin spoke up. “Hyung…” There seemed to be some sort of silent communication going on because before you knew it, you were completely empty on both ends.

You slumped down on the mattress, your intense orgasm seemingly having taken the life out of you. Your eyes fluttered shut while you tried to regain control of your breathing and you felt someone sweetly petting your hair. “Did we wear you out for the night? Sorry, Aegiya…” Your eyes snapped open to see Hyunjin knelt down next to your head at the foot of the bed.

“N-no!” You grabbed onto his hand, pleadingly. “Not done! Need more… use me…” You were suddenly too cockdumb to form complete sentences, but what you did say made both men curse in tandem. Hyunjin smirked and quickly stood up.

The men grabbed each end of you and flipped you onto your back. Your vision was blurry with lust, but you could still clearly see that Chris had removed his condom and Hyunjin donned one now instead.

With one sharp tug, Hyunjin pulled you into position where his face hovered over your folds. You looked down at him right as he placed those plump lips against your throbbing clit in a torturous kiss. You whined at the damned tease and he smiled against your skin. 

He then went from zero to sixty in the blink of an eye.

He began to you out as if his life depended on it and his long tongue reached even further inside you than you thought was possible. Your head craned back as you belted out a silent cry of pleasure. However, Chris used your open mouth to his advantage as he positioned himself at the foot of the bed and you finally caught a glimpse of his dick coming straight toward your mouth.

And HOLY FUCK was the man packing, or what?

There was no way in hell you were going to be able to deepthroat that monster! Yet you took him in your mouth nonetheless. You knew you still had a wicked tongue when it came to giving head. “Shit, baby girl. Your mouth really is magic.” Chris groaned.

You felt pride fill your smug little bubble, but you were soon preoccupied with your next orgasm rapidly approaching from the skilled tongue of Hyunjin. You whimpered on Chris’ massive cock and he moaned from the vibrations. Your orgasm was just as powerful as the last as you released all over your best friend’s face.

You heard a long hum come from the man between your legs. “You taste so good, Aegiya.” Hyunjin said once you were finished and he kissed his way up your body, only to stop to suck each nipple at a time into his mouth. Chris had started fucking your face shallowly and he was able to get painfully deep from this position. 

As you felt Hyunjin move up to suck on your neck, you felt his cock start to prod at your entrance. You were more eager than you thought you should be to feel him inside you, but when he absolutely slammed into you, you almost choked. Hyunjin was waaay longer than Chris and he reached spots inside you that no man had ever reached before.

You whimpered on Chris’ cock and you felt him start to stutter in his rhythm. “Fuck… M’cummin…” Sure enough, after a few more pumps, you felt hot ropes of his seed hit the back of your throat. You always had this really sick pleasure of cum eating and he thankfully spared you none.

More and more kept coming, and just when you didn’t think you could fit anymore, he finally finished and pulled out. You closed your eyes and hummed in bliss, sloshing the thick fluid around in your mouth before savoring every gulp to emptiness. You had realized that Hyunjin had stopped moving and you opened your eyes, offended that he would rob you of that delicious sensation he was giving you.

Yet when you opened your eyes, you found both men staring at you with shock on their faces. “Fuck, that’s gotta be the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen…” Chris said with heavy breaths as he, too, was coming down from his high.

“Nasty, baby.” Hyunjin said with a smirk as he lowered himself down to hover just above your face. He looked apprehensive for a moment, seemingly searching your eyes as he slowly rocked into you with a steady rhythm and quick glances at your panting lips.

You decided to cut to the chase and you wrapped all your limbs around him, crashing him fully down onto your body and connecting your moistened lips. 

Well shit. Why did he have to be an amazing kisser too?

His pace picked up along with the hunger in his kiss and you were suddenly overwhelmed with the feeling of having your best friend fuck you senseless.

Although Hyunjin’s dick was beating your cervix to a pulp, the pain led you to yet another climax that you didn’t even think was possible. He pulled back and brought his hand up to thumb at your lips. “Get this wet for me, pretty?” You instantly sucked his finger in and his heavy-breathing, open mouth formed the sexiest fucking smile you had seen on him yet.

He retrieved the dripping digit and brought it down to your over-sensitive clit, almost instantly pushing you over the edge. Without further ado, Hyunjin also climaxed and he came with your name on his lips. Holy shit, you just fucked your best friend…

Things were hazy after he pulled out. 

First, you felt two pairs of hands strip you out of the uncomfortable lingerie and begin to wipe you down.

Next, you were easily repositioned under the covers to rest your head on a comfy pillow with the softest sheets you had ever felt. 

After that, things got quiet. You didn’t know why… but you suddenly felt… lonely.

You felt a kiss on your forehead and that’s when you forced your eyes open. You caught his hand as the man started to retreat. “Jinnie?” He returned to you with a sad smile.

“Yes? What is it, Aegiya?” You squeezed his hand tighter.

“Stay? Please?” He looked startled and he glanced at the man that had evidently crawled under the covers with you. You turned to Chris’ confused face and looped your other arm around his strong bicep. “Both of you?” You knew this would probably be weird in normal circumstances and you would have to address your feelings in the morning, but right now you just wanted to snuggle up to both of the men you adore inside and out. And, thankfully, they seemed to agree.

The rest is tomorrow’s problem.

__________________________________________

If you've made it this far, thank you so much for reading!

This one is a spicy match!! Tbh I have no clue if I would be able to choose between the two... 😳

Please like, follow, and share! Thanks baby stays! 😘

2chopsticks2eyes - Masterlist

[invisibleraven]

Hey, #7 soulmate au is DEVASTATING sooooo

peterpatterlina

Some of the first words every child learned to read were the ones printed on their skin-the last words their soulmate would ever say to them. A bit morbid, and no one really thought it best system to find a soulmate, but it was all they had.

Reggie Peters was lucky enough to have two soulmates-though that meant losing the love of his life twice, he figured that at least he wouldn't be alone. Or at least he hoped.

He traced the sentences that floated over his arms over and over until he knew them by heart.

Cariño.../I'll be waiting

The first he found out was a Spanish term of endearment, one he loved and couldn't wait to meet the person who was going to use it. The second made him a little melancholic, but it also meant he would also have a romantic soul to love.

He met Luke in college, they ended up as roommates, and bonded immediately. They loved the same music, even if Luke wasn't into country. They jammed late into the night, bonding over items of childhood nostalgia and parental troubles alike.

He saw Luke's marks early on, for he constantly wore cut offs and the sentences were scrawled along his ribs.

Maybe we can jam together in heaven?/It's okay, we'll be alright, you can go mi vida

Reggie had to hold back a squee at that, because Luke also had a soulmate who spoke Spanish-could they be the same person? Could Luke be one of his?

They started hooking up one drunken night, and decided to keep it up, developing feelings along the way, deciding to make it official upon graduating when Luke confessed he never wanted to stop living with-and loving Reggie.

They never really talked about the marks-it was a depressing thought, something that couldn't be confirmed until they broke up, or worse-when one of them died. For now they were happy, and that was enough.

They began working as session musicians at a studio, with Luke writing a few songs that got bought helping him get closer to his dream of being a real musician.

They met Alex there, the session drummer who got on with them like a house on fire, and Luke proposed starting a band, all three of them. Give them a chance to perform, maybe be the ones recording their own stuff instead of supporting the latest craze who had AI generated lyrics and next to no musical talent.

However it was through the studio that they met Julie-she was an intern there doing backing vocals for the odd song. And she was good.

"Why aren't you using those pipes to make your own music?" Luke asked her one night as they were all packing up.

"Haven't found my sound yet," she replied with a shrug. "Happy to be in the background until I do."

"Why don't you check out our band?" Reggie offered. "Might be fun to have another vocalist and I know you play a killer piano."

She smirked at that. "I could be persuaded."

Julie joined their relationship soon after that-with lots of conversation beforehand-coming to a head after a long band practice on the hottest day of the year. One that involved them needing to clean the couch in their small studio, lest Alex kill them-though he eye rolled at them the next day, muttering about 'Finally'.

Reggie loved worshipping the marks on Julie-they lined her hips, so he traced them with tongue filled kisses, Luke doing the same until Julie was a whimpering mess between them.

But what about you?/I love you darlin'

The darlin' left little doubt in Reggie's mind-his southern twang didn't come out much, but always made an appearance when granting pet names-Luke was already beau to Reggie. Luke teased him with French pet names, insisting that being called a little cabbage was totally romantic. Julie lucked out in mon cher in Reggie's estimation.

The years passed quickly and at a snail's pace at the same time. They became rising stars, international sensations and passé over several decades. Yet they were always together, there for each other, loving one another and their family.

Yet... well they were getting on in years, though none of them wanted to admit it. Luke in particular refused to act his age-something that proved his downfall, after he fell off a stage, breaking his hip in the process.

Though they had the best doctors, Luke declined fast, his body too frail to recover. The end was upon them, and after the children and grandchildren had said their goodbyes, it left Julie and Reggie.

There were tears all around, with Luke trying to joke, but his once powerful voice was faded to almost nothing. Reggie turned and he knew the next words to come out of his mouth-they had been printed on Luke's side for as long as he had been alive.

"Maybe we can jam together in heaven?" he joked despite the tears almost blinding him.

"I'll be waiting," Luke rasped, a smile painting his aged features. He then turned to Julie. "But what about you?"

Julie sobbed, but then clutched his hands. "It's okay, we'll be alright, you can go mi vida."

With that, Luke slipped away, leaving them to cry and clutch at one another, finally knowing the truth, too late to share the fact that they were meant to be together. But maybe Luke knew-he had seen their marks a million times over the years, so maybe it gave him the solace to go, knowing he had spent his long life with them.

They got along after that as best they could, though it always felt like there was something missing-reaching out in vain for Luke.

Then Julie got sick-she thought it was a cold at first, brushing it off. But after she didn't get better, they went to the doctor.

A terminal diagnosis.

"You can't leave me," he begged Julie that night. "I can't bare it."

"You can, and will," Julie insisted. "You're so strong, and we'll be reunited eventually."

Reggie stayed by her side through every chemo session, any effort to prolong Julie's life, however fruitless. Watching her white curls fall out, her already dainty figure shrinking.

"No more," Julie insisted after a few months of it. "I'm ready Reggie."

"I'm not," he said, kissing her palm. "But it's not about me."

One night as they slid into bed, Reggie knew-deep down in his soul that he would be waking up alone.

"I love you darlin'."

Julie's eyes welled with tears. "Cariño..."

He shook his head, resting their foreheads together and kissing her sweetly. Just held her tight as they slept, feeling her grow cold sometime in the night, and he calmly called for the ambulance.

He had her buried next to Luke, a space bracketing him for Reggie. He went on as he must, but his heart wasn't in it. He tried, for Danny and Luna, for their broods, but he knew life was gray and meaningless without Luke and Julie.

So he let himself grieve, growing even older, until one night-the night he knew he would give up. Tucking himself into the too big bed, closing his eyes and smiling for the first time in forever.

"I'm coming sweetie pies, I'm coming."

[bethanysnow]

Breakeven prt 2.

Bang Chan X Plus size Reader. Pinning so hard here. Fluff??

In the coming days, Chan's interest in the woman grew. Like an open flame, it licked the parts of his heart he buried under the permafrost. With the years of temptation and wishing for a type of companionship his brothers couldn't give; the dark side of his heart began to warm with hope.

Y/n however was none the wiser. She stood where she had been standing the last six days. Wore a purple sweater today. Long creme skirt. That's at least what Chan could see from his perch.

The studio had been filled with Han, Hyunjin, Chan, and at one point I.N. Working on a love song that Chan had 'magically' come up with in the middle of the night. The boys knew he had it bad. Lounging there like a Shakespearean ingenue. The boys teased him lightly only to be scolded like he was their dad.

Han though saw an opportunity for mischief and wanted to play cupid. It wasn't hard right? Get Chris to walk downstairs out the door, and say something before she leaves? But knowing his friend he wouldn't want him to meet someone that would break his heart. Han was the most affectionate motherfucker you'd ever meet, but that also meant he knew it needed to be the right person. Slipping out with an excuse Han put on a mask and a beanie and walked towards the singer.

Beauty queen of only 18 She had some trouble with herself He was always there to help her She always belonged to someone else

I drove for miles and miles And wound up at your door I've had you so many times But somehow, I want more

The voice that leaves her lips is one that's shy and carries the weight of the world on her tongue. Han has heard better technical singers, people who this is their craft. This woman though had feelings and need in her voice. She was hidden by the clothes she wore, but Han could at least tell she was full-figured. She was steady and certain and the presence that she had wasn't something he had encountered really. Most people when they busk or go out and sing, is to share their talent. Make a name for themselves. Get attention. Their whole career was about getting and maintaining attention Han knew that energy well. This felt like she had to sing. She would burst if she didn't.

I don't mind spending every day Out on your corner in the pouring rain Look for the girl with the broken smile Ask her if she wants to stay a while

And she will be loved And she will be loved

Tap on my window, knock on my door, I Want to make you feel beautiful I know I tend to get so insecure Doesn't matter anymore

Rocking on her heels she kept time with the metronome in her head. Y/n knew this song like the back of her hand. Like the route from home to elementary school and back as a child. She reveled in the nostalgic of those songs. Talking to the moon, Stero Heart, Cheerleader...all these songs grew the garden that was her love of music. For just a second, a moment in time with her eyes closed she was in her room at home again. The world was right, and just, and simple. Thats what singing does, at least in Y/n's philosophy. It brings you back to the time you heard it. It brings those emotions with them.

Han watched in amazement, for he knew he had his own biases, he had his own type. He knew what he looked for in partners, but watching this chick sing her heart out? Flashes of Chan pre debut flooded his vision, this boy he needed so much for someone to listen to him.

"Someone needed to listen to her" is the thought that enters Hans mind as the woman finishes the song. Opening her eyes again she sees a man watching her perform and she bows slightly.

Leaning over her guitar case she sees a couple coins, her shoulders droop slightly unable to hide her disappointment. With a shrug she starts to pack up, Han though filled with so many memories and thoughts felt a push.

"Wait- uh...Hi, you got a minute?"

"Yea? Can I help you?"

"Could you stay around this afternoon? I have a friend who has been dying to meet you. We work near here and from what I just heard you have something people should hear."

Y/n raises a brow at the man. He looks young, far too young to be talking like he is. Brown hair flopped over his face. Round glasses, dressed like an Idol. But most guys try and dress like that so who's to say.

"You work for what-? Jyp? as if.." She smirks shaking her head.

"..Actually yes..I do"

~~~

To be continued.

@moonlightndaydreams @channieandhisgoonsquad @chansmanda @noellllslut @antoniorhinothethird @7ndipity

[cartoon-buffoon]

I've posted a few of my crappy art related to my OC/persona Toon before—uhh here he is again for reference

And in those posts I briefly make jokes and or reference some lore for him. Now Toon is technically an extension of me and his personality mirrors me in lots of ways to the point I obviously use him as a pfp because he technically IS me—that being said this post is the exact lore for Toon and his story! (Also before anything the 3 demons I reference in his lore are just my favorite characters of Skitzo, and The Cartoon Cat & Dog... I like attaching my character to pre-existing characters from media, so what?). Anyways lore below if anybody cares ↓

In an abandoned studio one day there was born a creature of unknown origins, it was an amorphous blob of ink who awoke in absolute desolation with no idea who or what it was. It had intelligence and oddly enough had knowledge from what had happened in the world since roughly the 1930s to the 80s, yet it has no idea who it was. Faceless and without a body it wandered the barren halls to try and find anything resembling an identity, trying to find a name or appearance it could latch onto. After searching through room after room clouded in dust and mold it found a few partially intact film reels, these films showcased old cartoons that were...subpar in quality to say the least. The main character was drawn sloppily, constantly off model, sometimes lacking certain features, or even showcasing entirely new attire or a different body type. The backgrounds were also pretty low quality, often times just being pitch a solid pitch black color making the main character blend in with the background. Despite the inconsistencies and quality the main character had something that stayed constant, some the the blob needed. A face. The cartoon character was a weird mix of a rat and rabbit with white fur, long ears, some fluff, a triangle nose, and the most noticeable trait was a black stripe that ran across its face like a raccoon's mask.

The cartoons staring the character obviously were broken, heck the characters name wasn't even shown due to the fact that the opening sequence on the reel wasn't intact cutting that introduction out. Yet it was a face, a face the blob of ink felt an odd connection with.

Slowly but surely it took note on the cartoon character’s appearance and mimicked it, building up a visage similar from its own ink. The black liquid that made up it solidified and changed colors mimicking what it saw on the reel, it even altered the texture to feel like normal animal fur. With a newfound face the creature decided to take up the moniker "Toon", the full title being "Toon the Ratbit" seeing as other cartoon characters last names were their species he too wanted that for himself. After getting a name and face it realized it needed a body to go with its new look. For some reason though when it tried to mimic the character's body on screen it's ink got confused, the several inconsistencies made it nearly impossible to get an exact form down and it would always be slightly off from what felt comfortable. The living cartoon did the best he could, he fashioned legs, a grayscale rat tail, and hands that looked like a cartoon character's gloves. After creating all that it could the torso still remained unfinished, it didn't know what kind of appearance it wanted yet like the face it wore it wanted something that felt comfortable. It wanted a body that felt like it's own, it just couldn't figure out how to create that body.

In desperation Toon scoured the empty halls, rummaging through box after box, uplifting animation desks, even breaking into janitor closets in some desperate hope to find more film reels. He just needed some footage to mimic that was concrete, an ideal body he could connect with, latch onto, and take for his own. An appearance is what he desired the most, instead what he found was a few burnt reels with film that hung onto the metal by charred paper that wrapped around it. There was numerous warnings and labels on the reels strictly stating do NOT play them although in his haste he didn't care and slotted all three into projectors and started them up. In doing so he awoke 3 creatures that looked like demented cartoon characters and acted like monsters. All three were dragged out of whatever hell they called home and into the physical world where they were free to commit whatever atrocities they desired. Their plan was sadly foiled upon finding out they couldn't get too far away from Toon, if they tried they'd inevitably burst into flames and the very hellfire that brought them into existence would try to drag them out forcing them to stay within a somewhat close proximity to the one who awoke them. The worst part is they couldn't even kill Toon to break their curse, they could maim and harm the little hybrid to their hearts content, yet some invisible force stopped them from killing Toon.

Ever since then they were all forced to coexist, Toon never found a body that felt comfortable so it covered itself and the inky mess that was its true form with a faded red hoodie. As for the the three psychopathic cartoon characters who found themselves bound by invisible strings to the one who summoned them, they tormented Toon from time to time yet the hatred and disdain the three felt faded over the years. The three didn't get along either, there was constant fighting between the trio and Toon would be swept up into it the havoc usually.

The once faceless blob of ink now found itself in a chaotic life full of the constant threat of being stabbed, slashed, gutted, or beaten. Oddly enough though it didn't mind despite the torment it faced. The world was boring and dull, yet with the other cartoon creatures life was chaotic and random, the chaos felt comforting in a way. It made him feel like he was an actual toon and not just something pretending to be one, whenever he'd stop and gaze at his body which never had a solid form Toon would embrace the chaos and it felt like he belonged. Life was a weird symbotic relationship, they all lived in the abandoned studio Toon woke up in and soon became accustomed to each other. Instead of getting mauled now Toon only faced pranks and the occasional (frequent) mean spirited comment, it was annoying and sometimes frustrating yet it sure beat getting hurt. Life with crazy malevolent creatures attached to him did have perks for Toon, the rodent could do and get away with anything considering the demons couldn't let him die do they became begrudgingly protective. There was also the fact that they had knowledge of the unnatural and strange which would come in handy from time to time, and Toon had access to all this and the only thing he really had to do was put up with them and occasionally keep peace.

It was chaotic, nonsensical, and sometimes bloody, yet it was a life Toon found enjoyment in, even between all the ups and downs. Mainly downs... A whole lotta downs….

[rioreeve]

//Zach's studio (most likely). early afternoon.

According to the information they had gathered so far, the virus didn't wait too long before it turned its host into a bloodthirsty zombie. Once someone got bitten, there wasn't much time left, it wouldn't even give them enough time for hope that maybe there was a chance. The last glimpse of hope would be gone with the first symptoms, within less than half an hour. And then? It would be downhill from there.

The first hour should have proved to him that he was going to be okay, but he simply had to wait a few more before he would let anyone near him. His quarantine seemed more than enough of a precaution. The next morning, he also washed the clothes he wore to their trip, and gave Doom Slayer a nice bath, then checked his back in the mirror. The nasty scratch still looked pretty normal, with no tentacles peeking out of the wound – or at least that was a terrible joke that helped him keep sane in the face of a possible superrabies infection – but his hair looked not so great. And that was unacceptable. Now that he knew what the outside world looked like he could sneak out to get what he needed so using the last box of hair dye he had seemed justified. Plus, Ember promised she'd help him fix his roots so it was a good excuse to let her know he was alive.

A jog upstairs to leave her a note and back was enough of a workout for today; nothing Zach could be happy about, but one can't always have what they want, right? The note read "U were right, there was no hair dye on the chopper :/ Come over when u have time, if you wanna. I could use some help with those roots."

@emberwexley

[pbandjesse]

Today was a really nice day. I'm really glad we went to visit my parents. That was the best thing to do today. To finish celebrating our first year of marriage. It felt good.

I slept a little better last night. Sadly James did not. But they said they were alright when I got up. When my alarm went off I would stretch and give them a hug and then went to get dressed.

I love this dress. It always makes me feel like a princess. It was the dress I wore for the park party after our wedding so it'll always be special. And I love my new necklace and earrings and I was just feeling good.

We would leave around 845 and drove to get the Fulwilers.

They were not ready. Not terribly shocking. James would go inside while I waited in the car. James would come out a few minutes later to let me know that Tucker had had to talk to a doctor on the phone so he was still getting dressed. James tried to get me to come inside but I was plenty comfy in the car. And I also thought that if they all knew I was waiting in the car they would be faster.

I think it did help. And we were on the road around 920. Not to much later then I hoped.

It was really nice to see them. Tucker gave me a kiss on my cheek. And then we were off.

It was a two hour journey. They all talked about sports. I worked on some knitting. I scrolled on my phone and we told stories about childhood. It was a nice ride. There wasn't much traffic. I was just having a nice time.

Mom asked me to let her know when we were a few minutes away so she could put the dogs in her bedroom. And we got there at 1130.

And it was so nice to see them!! Hugs all around. Molly was already out so Anne and Tucker got to meet her and James continues to say she is the best dog. Which is true. But once everyone was settled and sitting mom let the other two out and they were all super sweet, even if they were very jumpy for a bit.

It was nice to hug my dad and my mom. They were both looking good. I am still frustrated with mom's dentures and I want her to go somewhere to have them for them better because I worry about her being uncomfortable. But at least dad is doing better with his comfort of his leg. He said they changed the height of the one and it helped a lot. So that's awesome. He was able to walk with a cane for a bit and seems more steady for the most part.

Anne, Tucker, James, and my mom were all talking on one side of the living room and I was focusing on dad. He was talking about the letter the union sent him about the little ceremony they are having tonight, that they were going to present pins for being in the union for 45 years. He had decided not to go and when he told me that a couple weeks ago it made me sad. He deserves to have his special pin. And he really teed me up to pull out the pin I got him from my purse.

And you should have seen his face. He absolutely lit up and it made my whole day it was great. He seemed blown away and so grateful and I was just so happy that I thought to do that. And I got a 50, 55, and a 60 so I'm ready for the next twenty years of union membership. Dad said it was nice that we have that goal to shoot for. He better be alive for those, he promised me 111.

I would bring Anne to my room and shoed her some of my art. It was fun to show off some of the pieces I have there. I did not bring her to the basement studio to show her the work there but that's alright. It was still fun.

We would load into the cars soon to go have lunch at Carlucci's.

I like Carlucci's and they were really nice about getting both of our dads in there safely and didn't knock anyone over. They sat us at a round half table half booth. All the ladies sat on the booth side and the guys were in the chairs. It was funny because none of the ladies feet reached the ground. Silly.

The menu is slightly overwhelming. There aren't a lot of vegetarian options but I ended up getting the eggplant arnauld and a salad. Basically everyone else got seafood bisque which is apparently great. Everyone seemed very happy with it. I liked the bread they brought to the table.

We had excellent conversations. About our marriage. Our DC trip. Medical stuff. I showed off my new jewelery that James got for me. It was fun and the food was really good. James let me try one of their cheese pockets which was very good. I enjoyed hanging out with everyone.

We did get desserts to share. Anne got a cannoli that she shared with Tucker, mom got a limoncello cake she shared with me, and I got a cream brulee that I shared with James. It was great. I had a great time.

I enjoyed talking to everyone about work stuff and research. I shared about my concerns with being a white girl teaching about indigenous people. Much like when mom worked with the African American history program and felt weird about being a spokes person. We are trying our best to do the right thing.

We finished up our meal. I stole all the mints until Anne asked for one. I would have given her more but she did not ask. So I have 7 mints. Excellent. Love butter mints.

We would head back to the house to get a few things mom had collected for me. She had gift wrapped some toilet paper for an anniversary gift which was very funny because your first wedding anniversary is paper. But also thank you for the useful gift!

I went down to the basement when we got back and collected the things mom had laid to the side for me. Then I insisted on everyone coming to the backyard to take a picture.

It was fun setting up a shot. Getting everyone to smile at the same time was a struggle but I teased everyone and did my best. I think it was nice to have a picture together.

The dogs came outside with us and we're being super cute. Molly had her cute little ears flopping around. They can be bad dogs but also they are the best dogs and I love visiting them.

But then it was time to go. I would normally stay for a few more hours but I didn't want to force everyone to do what I wanted. And we would get home around 5 so that would leave a lot of time for evening activities. So it was for the best.

Hugs all around. I love you, miss you already. And then we were off.

It was a pretty chill drive. James put on a podcast for the first hour. I worked on my knitting until my hands hurt and would spend a lot of time just scrolling on my phone. It was a nice drive though and we didn't have to deal with much traffic. We made great time. And dropped off Anne and Tucker at 445.

And we would get home around 5. Me and James would spend a little time discussing buying a house in our drove back from the Fulwilers. Interest rates are to crazy right now and we are hoping for next summer, more or less. But it seems like home prices in the area I want to live are going down or are at least are more inline with what we are hoping to pay. We have started saving for a down payment. And we are thinking about it a lot. It's fun to make plans and have dreams.

I accidently hit the car door on the street sign as soon as we parked. Oops. And as I was checking that out our friend Meagan ran over to return our spare keys which was pretty funny. She apparently saw us around the corner and followed us in her car. It was nice to see her.

We went upstairs and I would work on cleaning the frog tank. Again. I figured out how to take apart my tank vacuum to pinpoint on picking up the snails. I did have an issue where I picked up so many rocks but it's fine. I would go back and forth 5 or 6 times filling the tank and vacuuming over and over. Annoying. It's still not clean. I keep trying. Omelet seems to be doing well at least and doesn't seem bothered by all the nonsense going on in his tank.

James would go for a bike ride. And while they were gone I got a shower and got cozy. And I have just spent the evening chilling. And it's been really nice. Me and James have been hanging out for a while now. Sweetp was here. We're watching a mini doc about the church that did an illegal production of Hamilton. It is making us cringe so bad. But it's a lot of fun to watch it together.

It is time to go to bed now though. I have a busy day tomorrow. James had jury duty. And I have a meeting with creative alliance and then an adult group for a few hours. I think it will be a good day. I hope it is.

Sleep well everyone. Take care of eachother. Goodnight!

[iwasntstable]

n.s. | fear of failure.

🗀 C:/PROJECTS/MYWORK/ONESHOT/FEAROFFAILURE [projects] ﹂ [my-work] | in-progress | favourites 　﹂ all | series | [one-shot] | blurb | head-cannons | ask 　　﹂ [fear-of-failure]

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➔𝐢𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧𝐭𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞➔➔　𝘪𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘈𝘳𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘷𝘦!+　　[𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝐀𝐎𝟯]

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summary: you don't know why, but noah has been withdrawing into himself again and you're worried this steady decline will end in disaster. you resolve to pull him out again, knowing he can't continue like this much longer.

content tags: angst, emotional hurt/comfort, poor mental health, fluff.

word count: 2.7K.

note: god i need this for myself.

Noah has been hiding in his studio for three days now. Even going so far as to sleep in there on the couch last night. He's no stranger to long stints of studio work, bursts of creativity that absolutely have to be channelled into a new project, but even if the hour is late, he always comes to bed. To you. 

Last night, when you woke up alone at 3AM, you crept down the hall to find him there, curled up on the couch with the hood of his sweater pulled up over his head. Deciding it best to leave him be, you carefully took the blanket from the back of the couch and draped it over his sleeping form. Hoping he would find some comfort in it and at least achieve a fulfilling rest.  

You’ve worried for a few weeks now that he’s been overworking himself again. Dirty bowls in the sink and empty cups of ramen in the trash are the only indication he’s been eating, and even then, it wasn't typical behaviour for him to just leave dishes unwashed. The times you tried to coax him out of his studio over the past couple of days he’s brushed off your concerns by insisting he’s fine. 

I just need to finish this.  I’ve been stuck on it for a while but I think it’s finally coming together.  I can’t stop just yet. 

You decide you’re going to pull him away from his screens at any cost, just for a short while. He can't continue like this much longer. 

Entering into the dim room, Noah is exactly where you expect him to be. The hoodie he wore somehow managed to swamp his large frame, with the hood, held in place by his headphones, pulled over his head covering his hair. His fingers deftly float across the keyboard as he works. Editing tracks note by note, adjusting things then changing them back, adding a sample, making it his own, then deleting it and searching for a new one. 

You approach his desk from the side, letting him see you coming so you don’t startle him since he can't hear for the headphones. Feeling a pit open up in your stomach when his face comes into view; deep, dark circles have formed under his eyes, which are bloodshot with fatigue and he seems paler than usual, his stubble also becoming visible from the lack of maintenance. He offers you a smile you know he means from his heart, but doesn’t quite reach his eyes. You tap your ear and he takes the headphones off, dropping them to the desk with very little care. 

“How’s it going?” you ask sweetly. 

He closes his eyes and sighs, shrugging, with his hands poised back on the keyboard and mouse, like they’re a part of him. 

“How about taking a break, hm, step away from the screens? We can make something to eat and sit outside. It’s pretty cloudy so it’s nice and cool out.” 

“I can’t,” his voice remorseful. “I really need to keep working on this. We can when I’m done, okay?” He tries to convince you but it seems to you the first person he should be trying to convince is himself. 

“Noah,” you come closer, standing as much between him and his accursed desk as his legs will allow, with your arms crossed. “You’ve been working on this for days straight without so much as a break. I promise you the world won’t end if you step outside for half an hour.” 

“Babe, I know you’re worried, but you don’t have to be. I just really need to finish this,” he insists. 

“What’s the deadline date?” you ask, standing closer and resting a hand on his shoulder. An attempt to coax him away from work and back into you. The effort of which proved to be futile. You knew there was no deadline, knew he wasn’t undertaking any commissioned work. This was a personal project. Something with the potential to morph into a new Bad Omens track; but you wanted to catch him out. 

He was silent for a moment, and as your palm smoothed over his broad, taut shoulders you could see his eyes dart side to side while the thoughts raced in his head. “It’s something- Jolly needs something more than just a demo to work on-” 

“And when does Jolly need it by?” Cutting him off, reiterating the question you knew he couldn’t answer. 

“Ah- he,” Noah stumbled over his words and sighed in resignation. “He doesn’t need it by a specific day or anything. I’m just- I’m just anxious to get this done, you know? I don’t want to think about it longer than I have to.” 

You push his shoulder back against his chair, the force spinning him around to face you clearer. Noah’s tired eyes meet your own for only a moment before he breaks the connection to dart around his setup in front of him; the monitor, the keyboard, the microphone, anywhere but you. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, looking everywhere but not seeing.  You found it was often difficult for him to see. 

“But you’ve already been thinking about it, nonstop, for three days straight. Confining yourself to this room, I’ve barely seen you!” 

“I’m sorry I can’t just stop working whenever it suits you!” he all but cried, voice raised in defence and thinner than its usual smooth tone. Noah takes in a sharp breath, hands at last separating from his keyboard and mouse, cracking his knuckles. 

You say nothing, do nothing, except continue to watch him directly while he struggles under the weight of your confrontation. 

Fiercely independent from a young age, Noah has never been the type to just roll over in the face of adversity. He expects too much from himself to allow his ego to take a back seat. Though in recent years, you’ve seen him discover the value in being humbled—not as often needing to prove his value to himself—but it seems this time his struggle is greater.  

He blinks rapidly as your gaze burns into him, and curses before he pulls his hood down further in an attempt to hide from the reality you’ve brought into his studio. You couldn’t miss the unmistakable glint of tears in his eyes before he sinks down into his chair. 

This man has brought so much joy and light into your life, happinesses you never thought you’d feel again, new highs you didn’t even know existed. To see your beacon in the dark dimmed like this cuts you deeper than any knife could. 

You crouch down by him, seeking out again those eyes that you always found to be more intoxicating than any aged bottle of whisky, from where he was trying to conceal them.  But Noah continues to hide. 

Your voice adopts a more serious tone, one that Nicholas once called your ‘mom voice’. That comment earned him a throw pillow projectile to the face. “Noah, your health is going to suffer if you continue like this. Physical, mental… both?!” You throw your hands up and drop them to your legs with a muffled slap against your sweatpants. “I don’t want you to burn out. I can see you falling from the outside and I’m trying so hard to catch you before you hit the ground.” You rest a hand on his thigh. “Talk to me. What’s going on? Why is finishing this piece so important that you can’t take even a small break?” 

His breath shudders and his shoulders shake. The glow from the desktop monitors, the only light in the room, cause his tears to sparkle as they drop to his chest. 

It was barely audible, you swear you’ve never heard his voice sound so defeated, “I can’t fail.” He’s silent for a moment before continuing. “I can’t stop until it’s good, or all this time I’ve spent locked away working on it will have been a waste,” his voice cracks and he covers his face with his hands, inked fingers blocking his broken façade from your prying eyes. 

You never see Noah cry like this. Usually he’s so stable, always fixed in place and ready to hold up everyone around him; you, the band, the crew. Letting out a deep breath, you brush his knee with your thumb. Taking a moment to think before speaking, wanting to be careful with your words here. You know all too well that holding back your emotions can only last so long before the dam breaks and threatens a catastrophe, but you’re determined not to let him get washed away in the flood.  

Clearing your throat, you tap his leg gently, “are you listening?” 

Noah takes a shuddering breath and nods, still hiding behind his hands. 

“Okay,” you quickly shift position to ease the strain on your legs as they start to ache, resting one knee on the floor with the other pulled to your chest. “Not everything you make is going to be good, but it isn’t all going to be bad either. And the time you spend working on the things you consider bad is definitely not time that you’ve wasted. Even if what you were working on never becomes anything more than a draft on your hard drive, or if you decide it’s not good enough to see the light of day. The things you learned from it, those skills, are not a waste. And just because something you made is bad, doesn’t mean you’re bad.  “Noah, you can’t keep punishing yourself for your self-perceived shortcomings by overworking and cutting yourself off. None of us doubt your abilities as an artist, and we don’t expect you to be a hit-making machine. We expect you to do your job, yeah, but not at the cost of yourself. You could write total dogshit for a year straight and you’d still be our Noah. We still love you.”  

Both hands on his knees now, you continue to try to offer comfort. At least his shoulders have stopped shaking.  

His voice comes muffled through his hands, a rasp to it, “I feel like I don’t deserve this sometimes.” Noah sniffles, balls his hands into fists, wipes his face and finally drops them to his lap, playing with his sleeves. Eyes puffy and rimmed red. “The success. I think, what if it’s all a fluke? Or what if this is it for me, I never reach higher than this?” He takes a deep breath, holds it for a couple of seconds, then releases it slowly. Something his therapist once taught him to help with anxiety. “Not in terms of charts or anything like that. What if I can’t make something as good as what I've made before? What if I lose it?” 

“Lose what?” You ask, watching him swipe away fresh tears from his cheeks with the sleeves of his hoodie as soon as they appear. “The ability to create?” 

He nods, face cast down towards his lap. 

“Oh, my love,” you sigh and lean forwards, grasping his hands tightly. “That’s a reasonable thing to be afraid of.” 

His tears are warm when they hit the back of your hands. 

The fact that he could be feeling all of this, struggling with these thoughts and deciding he had to do it alone broke your heart. You've always been there for Noah, at least you thought you had. Maybe you needed to do more for him than you realised. Your own eyes were burning with the threat of tears, but you steeled yourself. He hated seeing you cry, and you needed to be his strength.

Both of you sit for a moment in the quiet, until something he told you back when you first met comes to mind. “I think there was a point in time, years before I knew you, where you were thinking this exact same thing.” 

Noah raises his head a little, brows narrowed causing a small crease in his forehead. 

“Am I right in thinking at some point there was a very young, teenage Noah Sebastian writing lyrics in secret, playing guitar in a band, self-publishing demos and thinking, ‘is this all there is?’” 

He at last meets your eyes again, focusing completely on you. 

“And would that kid believe you if you told him exactly where he’ll be in 10 years' time, exactly where you are right now?” 

“I don't think he would,” Noah smiles a little at the thought, the corner of his lips twitching upwards unmistakably on one side. 

He turns his hands over in yours to hold them properly. The way they surround yours entirely with no effort is something you don’t think you’ll ever get used to. 

You remember first time he ever held your hand in the beginning of the relationship and the sense of total security that washed over you when he did; in a physical sense, you knew it was a sign he would always be by your side, that he wanted to keep taking little steps forward with you and with this relationship, but also emotionally, an action so subtly intimate and comforting. You knew from then on, he was someone you could always rely on. Now you need him to see he can rely on you. 

“I'm sorry we all have to rely on you so much. That you feel the need to do this to yourself,” you tighten your grip on his hands and dip your head to make sure he maintained eye contact with you, which he did. “Will you let me help you?” 

Tears welled in his eyes again until he blinked them away, and nodded. 

You stand, stretching the ache out of your legs and pull him up to his full height with you. Relief floods your body as you wrap your arms around his middle and rest your head against his chest for the first time in days. Noah returns the affection, encircling your shoulders with his long limbs. He rests his cheek against the top of your head, and you sigh with content when you feel him sinking completely into you.  

“Okay,” you say, the sound muffled against his chest before you pull back just enough to look at him. “Let’s go make some real food to eat that isn’t cereal or instant noodles. Or order something? Then we can sit and just do nothing. Maybe watch a movie? Anything you want.” 

Noah nods, then pulls you back into him tightly and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Thank you,” he whispers. 

Realising just how much you missed his touch, how much you needed it, you squeeze him back and hold him there in your arms as the time lingers on. Noah pulls back from the embrace this time, brushing stray hair from your face and caressing your cheek with his thumb, while the other arm remains looped around you. “I’m really sorry, for all of this,” he starts, but you shake your head and stop him in his tracks. 

You sneak your hands up towards his face, palms sliding over his chest to hold him by the cheeks. “You don’t have to say sorry to me. I know you are and it’s okay. Just let me help you, yeah? Or any of the other guys? You can pass on some of your burdens to us, let us bear the weight with you. You don’t have to feel this way.”  

“I will,” he affirms. “I promise you.” 

“Good,” you say with a smile. Looping your arms around his neck, you lean up as high as you can go on your toes—though still needing to pull him down a little— to place a soft kiss on his cheek, right at the corner of his mouth. 

He can’t help but smile too, a genuine smile that makes his eyes sparkle in the way you fell in love with. Leaning down after you, he captures your lips in a kiss equally as gentle as the one you gave him, stubble ever so slightly tickling your face.

Noah rests his forehead against your shoulder, holding you tightly by the waist when he whispers, “I love you.” 

“I love you too. No matter what.” 

[avatar-anna]

hey anna, i had a rough day & would love if you could give me your best angst to match my mood 🥺 screaming, crying, throwing up, ya know the vibe, something that’ll hurt, ur my fave, thank u in advance

i got u b! hope this does what it needs to 🥰🥰 i suggest listening to some olivia rodrigo for this one

throwin it back to the 1d days for this one, so shout out to all my directioners

Today you were surprising Harry at the studio.

You hadn't been able to see him much because he was hard at work making One Direction's third album. The last two had a lot of success, and Harry had expressed how he and the other boys were feeling the pressure to perform well. You knew he liked his space, so you'd given it to him, but you thought after a whole week of not seeing each other, he could benefit from seeing a friendly face.

Harry had been something of a pleasant surprise. You were a uni student studying in London when you bumped into him at a party that you'd been invited to by some of your more well-connected friends. You talked for hours about music, books, dreams, everything really. When you eventually had to leave, he wouldn't let go until you promised to see him again, and you'd been an item ever since.

Things were good. You saw each other when you could and talked on the phone and video chatted when you couldn't. He made sure he made time in his busy schedule for you, never once missing a virtual or in-person date. He gave you gifts, he listened to you rant about professors and exams and friend problems while you did the same, but mostly he just made you happy. Whenever you saw him, you got this giddy feeling that started at the top of your head and spread all the way down to your toes. The two of you were absolutely smitten, anyone with eyes could see it.

Except Isabella.

Isabella was some heiress turned model or something like that and a friend of Harry's. At the beginning of your relationship, you didn't see anything wrong with their friendship, but a few months in and you started to notice things.

Like how she always seemed to be in town whenever you and Harry went on dates, or how she touched Harry a little too much for your liking, or how she claimed she was just "one of the guys" but only hung out with your boyfriend. She went to multiple concerts around the world because she could, claiming, "Harry's my best friend, why wouldn't I?"

That stung. You wanted to go to all of Harry's shows too, but you couldn't hop on a private jet and fly to wherever he was, and even if you could, you were still in school, you didn't have the time. Harry never faulted you for that, so you didn't understand why Isabella felt the need to throw it in your face that you weren't there for him as much as she was.

But you could've put up with all of that. You could've dealt with Isabella and chalked her behavior up to her snobbish upbringing, yet when you brought your concerns up to Harry, he did the oddest thing. He defended her.

"She's not into me like that, we've just been friends a long time, Y/n."

That stung. Not only did he not see what you saw, but he also just brushed off your concerns as if they didn't exist. But you weren't an idiot. Quite the opposite if your enrollment in your uni's nursing program had anything to say about it. Isabella at the very least had feelings for Harry that extended past friendship.

So you started stepping up your game a little. Nothing major, just making sure you didn't wear your scrubs during video chats and wore the things you knew he liked best on you. You did surprise pop-ins at the studio, bringing baked goods for Harry and the other boys. You couldn't swat away Isabella like a gnat, but you could pretend she wasn't there as much as humanly possible. Your next step if things went on—say, showing up on another one of your dates with Harry and he just let her stay—you would finally confront him about it. But you hoped this would be enough.

You stepped through the fancy glass doors of the recording studio, following the familiar path to what had become One Direction's room for this album. There was a slight skip to your step as you walked the halls lined with famous artists signed to the label. You were having an excellent hair day, you were in your favorite pair of jeans, and you managed to get your winged eyeliner to match.

When you opened the door to the recording room, that good feeling was gone in an instant. She was there, leaning in close to him as they shared a pair of headphones and listened to a song together, most likely one he'd recorded recently. So wrapped up in each other, they didn't even notice you come in until the door swung closed.

"You two look busy. I guess I'll come back later," you said, though how you did it was a mystery. There was a lump the size of a golfball stuck in your throat.

Turning on your heel, you left before either of them could say anything. On your way out, you ran into Zayn and Niall, who had smiled upon seeing you, but their expressions immediately morphed into ones of concern when they saw you wiping tears from your eyes. You tried to step past them, but Zayn caught your elbow.

"Is everything alright?" he asked, his voice soft and soothing.

"I'm fine," you said, but even you could tell that you didn't sound very convincing. Before you knew it, tears were falling faster than you could wipe them away and you struggled to catch your breath.

"Hey, it's okay," Zayn said, bringing you in for a hug. You let him, relaxing a little as Niall rubbed your arm affectionately.

It was at that moment that Harry and Isabella decided to come out. He looked concerned, but she looked utterly unbothered, even when she saw you crying.

"What's wrong, love?" Harry asked, but when you stepped out of Zayn's arms, you bypassed your boyfriend and rounded on Isabella.

"You need to back off."

"Back off? Back off of what?" she asked, feigning innocence.

You kept your breathing as steady as you could, trying your best to ignore the fact that you probably looked a mess. "Harry is my boyfriend, and I'm uncomfortable with the way you act around him. It's disrespectful."

"Disrespectful? I'm his best friend. If you have a problem with that, that's not my problem, it's yours."

The hallway was dead silent despite there being five people in it. You didn't know what to say, which seemed to satisfy Isabella. In a desperate attempt for backup, you turned to the one person who should've been on your side without any questions asked. "Harry?"

You knew he hated confrontation, but you needed him. You always defended him when the boys teased him a little too much, you were always there for him when he was frustrated with a bad day of writing. You were always on his side, now you needed him on yours.

"I, um," he struggled with finding something to say. You felt Zayn and Niall watching this whole exchange like you were some teen drama, but you tried not to pay attention to them.

"This is ridiculous, Harry. Your girlfriend's jealous and insecure. We shouldn't have to change our friendship for her."

Harry took his time responding again, and each second that passed filled you more and more with dread. Finally, he said, "I—I've told you that nothing's going on with her, Y/n. I need you to trust me."

It would've hurt less if you'd been slapped. If you couldn't make him see it now, you never would. Bracing yourself for something you never thought you had to do, you loosed a breath and looked Isabella in the eye.

"Right. Well, you don't have to worry about stepping on any toes or crossing any lines, not that you ever did. He's all yours. I'm done."

You left without another word, feeling like your heart was trying to make a hasty escape through your throat. As you walked away, you heard Isabella say, "Did you hear the way she talked about him? He's not a piece of meat."

"Oh shut up, Isabella." That was Niall. His comment made a smile flicker on your lips, but it only reminded you of the fact that it was still someone else defending you and not the person it should've been.

Before you made it to the elevators, you heard soft footfalls behind you. Harry was there, lightly gripping your elbow and spinning you around. "Really, that's it? You break up with me just like that?"

"You couldn't even stick up for me in front of her, Harry! If you're not on my side, then what's the point?"

"There are no sides, Y/n! We're just friends! Why don't you believe me when I've already told you countless times?"

"She doesn't want to be just your friend! How many dates has she crashed? How many times have you cancelled or left early because she needed you? She was practically on top of you in the studio just now! I've let it all slide, but I'm not gonna do it anymore, Harry. She may not see it that way, and you might not either, but it is disrespectful. She doesn't respect me, and she certainly doesn't respect our relationship.

"I've kept my mouth shut, I've pretended like what she was doing wasn't driving a wedge between us, but all that did was bring us to this point. There's not a wedge between us, Harry. We'd have to be on the same plane of existence for that."

You hated how much your words seemed to hurt Harry. At least it meant that he really did care for you, but it wasn't enough.

"I don't know what you want me to do," he said quietly.

"Stop hanging out with her, admit that how she acts around you isn't normal 'best friend' behavior. Do anything but just stand there and look at me like I'm crazy."

When he still couldn't at least admit that Isabella was out of line, that was all you needed. Looking back on that moment, you remembered not feeling sad that your relationship had come crashing down in a matter of minutes, you only felt angered by his choice, and maybe a little resigned, like some part of you knew it was coming.

Nodding, you said, "Right. Guess that answers that then. When she finally does make her move, I hope someone is there to say 'I told you so.' Goodbye, Harry."

------------------------------------

Two weeks later and you were still devastated. Everything still felt so fresh, and it took just about everything in you to get up in the morning and go to school.

You hoped that Harry was feeling similar. Part of you thought that he would call or come visit you, but he hadn't and you were starting to lose faith in that particular fantasy.

At the very least, you hoped you inspired a song on One Direction's upcoming album.

Speaking of, as you were getting ready for school one morning, you got a phone call from Zayn.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Hi. How've you been?"

"Alright considering, I suppose. I've just enough strength to get me through classes, but that's about it. Is that pathetic?"

You were partially joking, but mostly not. When Zayn didn't answer right away, though, you began to worry. "Zayn? What is it?"

"I just wanted to give you a heads up. It'll probably be all over the Internet, but I thought you deserved to hear it from a friend."

Your stomach dropped. You knew it was coming, but you wanted to believe that Harry really did love you. "At least he didn't cheat, right?"

"Y/n—"

"It's fine, Zayn, really. I, um, I should be getting to school. I don't want to miss my bus."

You didn't take the bus, and you definitely weren't going to school, but you needed to get off the phone as quickly as possible.

"Do you need anything? The boys and I are all planning to egg his place while he records some solos," he said. An attempt to make you smile. It would've worked if you didn't just lose the ability to feel anything.

"No, I don't need anything, but thank you. For asking and for calling." It was certainly more than Harry did.

"I have to get going, but call any of us if you need anything. You may have broken up with him, but we're still friends, yeah? Don't be a stranger."

You hung up soon after, and then you were left to stew in your misery. Sobs wracked your body as you blindly made your way back to your room. Your heart physically ached, despite having braced yourself for this possibility even before you'd broken up with him

The hardest part was accepting the fact that you and Harry were truly finished because when you were good, you were really good. He loved you, you believed that, but somewhere down the line, he found it in him to like someone else. You could only hope that one day you'd be able to move on, because right now you felt like your apartment was crushing your chest.

"You didn't cheat, but you're still a traitor," you mumbled to yourself as you got into bed. Now that was a song lyric. Shutting your eyes, you hoped that the face you were still in love with despite everything didn't haunt you in your dreams the way he was about to haunt you in real life.

[blu-joons]

Stop Staring ~ Min Yoongi

Your eyes were captured as you glanced across at Yoongi in response to the sound of him typing on his keyboard. He was in his element, the rest of the world shut out, including you, as he tried to add the finishing touches to the song that he had been working on for the past couple of weeks.

You had shown up to the studio, mainly just for moral support for Yoongi, but it had soon been you that started to watch him instead. Yoongi had unknowingly started to place a bit of distance between the two of you, when he found something clicking, he grabbed it with both hands and switched off to the rest of the world.

It was a habit of his that you admired more than you got angry at. Whatever you had to say to him could save, but the last thing that you ever wanted to do was get in the way and stop him from being able to remember the idea that had popped into his head.

Whilst you watched Yoongi in his own little world, you had no idea that you had slipped into a bit of a world away yourself. Your eyes were watching, but there was nothing else going on as only one thing seemed to capture your focus.

As Yoongi turned around to talk to you, he quickly realised what had captured your focus too.

All he did was turn round to check on you, but as he opened his mouth to speak, he realised that he wasn’t going to get very far. He moved his chair a little bit closer to you, but still there was nothing, not until he waved his hand in front of your face and finally watched as your eyes blinked several times, coming back into the room.

“Stop staring at me,” Yoongi chuckled as you looked at him again, this time as if there was someone there, and not someone who was lost dreaming away all to themselves.

A shy smile formed on your face as you realised that Yoongi was no longer focused on the software in front of him, but on you instead. You didn’t quite know where to look, not least because somehow you had been found out.

“I hope you were dreaming about good things,” Yoongi added when you remained silent. Your head rested in your hands, letting go of a muffled groan as he laughed in front of you, satisfied by how embarrassed you seemed to be.

You had no idea that you had slipped so far out of the room, trying to remember at what point you stopped paying attention, but no exact moment seemed to come to mind.

“I was about to tell you that I think I’ve finished editing the bridge of the song if you want to listen,” he informed you as you separated your fingers to look at Yoongi through the gaps. “Unless you’re going to start staring again.”

Your head shook as he pushed his chair even closer towards you, his hands coming down to rest against the top of your legs. You were flustered to say the least, wishing the ground would swallow you up because of the close proximity between you both.

As soon as your eyes looked across at Yoongi properly, your head shook. “You can stop smiling so widely,” you told him, drawn straight away to the smug smile that he wore as he watched you awkwardly sit in your chair.

“How can I not enjoy the fact that I caught you staring at me?” Yoongi innocently asked you.

“It’s your fault for inviting me to come here you know.”

“You were supposed to be here to help me,” he reminded you, “not sit and daydream.”

Your hand hit gently over the top of his that was resting against your leg, continuing to squeeze you softly. As much as Yoongi loved to tease you, he was also incredibly touched that you were so fascinated by him too.

“If you’re going to tease me, I can just go home,” you threatened.

Yoongi’s head shook back to you, bringing you close enough so that he could finally wrap his arms around you. The last thing that he wanted to do was spend the rest of his day lazing around at the studio getting things done all by himself.

“You’re adorable,” he whispered into your ear as your head rested against his shoulder. Several pecks against your cheek soon followed as he silently convinced you to stay.

“Stop being nice to me, it doesn’t suit you,” you joked in reply to Yoongi, pressing your hand against his chest. “I’m not going anywhere so you don’t have to try and sweet talk me into staying,” you added, much to Yoongi’s relief as he pulled the two of you in the direction of his desk.

After untangling his arms from around you, Yoongi started to load up the software so that he could show you what it was that he wanted to show you before you started staring. Once it was ready, he waved his hand in front of your face, just to make sure that you hadn’t started staring again.

As he did, your hand hit against his stomach as he couldn’t stop himself from messing with you again, glad to see that this time around you were still very much in the room.

His free hand soon rested against the spot that you had hit against his chest. “What did I do to deserve that?” He innocently smiled, shaking his head in your direction as your shoulders shrugged in response to him. “

Your stare was bold back across at him, “you knew exactly what you did. How long are you going to tease me for the fact that you caught me staring at you once?”

“I reckon I could carry this on for a while,” he confidently replied, “it’s not my fault that you looked so cute lost in your own little world.”

“Have I ever told you how annoying you are?”

Yoongi’s head shook in reply to you, “you don’t find me annoying; you adore me, I mean that’s why you were staring at me, right?”

Your eyes rolled as once again Yoongi managed to bring the conversation back to you staring at him. You dreaded to think about how long he would end up dragging it out, he could be stubborn at the best of times, let alone with something that made him so happy.

“I think I might just never look in your direction again so that you can’t think that I’m staring at you,” you told him, “just save myself the hassle from you.”

“I bet that you wouldn’t be able to last an hour,” he firmly challenged you.

Your eyebrows raised as he threw down his prediction, never one to back away from a challenge. “Why don’t we see?” You asked him, “for the next hour in this studio I will do anything but look across at you.”

“You’re on,” Yoongi firmly agreed, “but after you listen to this bridge that I’ve created, I bet you’ll be staring at me in awe like you were only a few minutes ago.”

Whilst Yoongi could be stubborn, so could you. There was no way that you were going to let him win, no matter how much it took out of you. He wanted the satisfaction, but you weren’t going to give it to him.

“Let’s start from now,” you told him, “my eyes are on the ground.”

“They’ll be on me in no time.”

---

Masterlist

[sukirichi]

— there’s always a price to pay when you get your hands on a work of art.

PAIRING: tattoo! artist megumi x reader

REQUEST. tattoo artist au + mutual pining + size kink, praise kink, thigh riding + reader is shorter than megumi and isn’t shy 

WARNINGS: feral megumi, scratching, vaginal sex, size kink, praise kink, mature content, slight overstimulation, sexual tension lol, unedited story

NOTES: ah thank you so much for this request, I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Here is my third contribution for FERAL MEGUMI FRIDAYS! and oh wow tattoo artist megumi uh no thoughts head empty

WC: 5.4k+

The tattoo saloon loomed over you, the neon signs almost blinding in the darkness. You could feel your heart pick up its pace in your chest as you hitched your bag up higher, the excitement settling in your toes. Mustering up the brightest smile you could have, you cleared your throat and pushed the door open, the tiny bell on top jingling to signal your arrival.

Your eyes roamed around the walls covered with intricate drawings, the leather seats dark and kept in pristine. Now that was rare – your leather couches always wore out in just a few weeks.

Making your way inside, grip on your sling bag still tight, you bit your lip as you peaked behind the counter. Empty. No one was there, and the nearby opened rooms were empty as well. Scratching your head, you scrunched your nose in confusion. You were sure you got the right place.

With a heavy sigh, you turned to leave, then stopped in your tracks when a dark-haired man exited a door you hadn’t even noticed at first.

He was tall – taller than you; his arms stretched until the sleeves of his black hoodie were pulled down, revealing a sliver of black tattoos that marked his skin. Upon hearing your awed gasp, his cold blue eyes fluttered to yours, the man – who was absolutely handsome despite his frown – froze in his spot.

You waved a hand to him, your smile bigger than ever. “Hi!” So you would be working with this cute guy? Maybe job-hunting wasn’t such a bad experience, after all.

“Hey,” he drawled out hesitantly, approaching you with his ink stained fingers pointed at you. He was still frowning, which was a damn shame, since you were sure he’d look even hotter if he smiled. “So...you’re Y/N.”

“Yeah!”

“And you...” he tilted his head to the side, inquisitive eyes studying your form. You would’ve felt conscious with the way his brows furrowed, eyes unreadable and lips pressed into a thin line, but you were sure you dressed to impress on your first interview. You admitted, however, that maybe wearing a white collared shirt with a pink tennis skirt made you stand out like a sore thumb in the heaviness of the studio. “...want to be a front desk man here?”

“Yeah!”

“What makes you think you’re qualified for this?” he crossed his arms on his chest, and you didn’t miss the slight bite of his voice. So he was handsome – but cranky. Great. “You don’t look like you fit in here.”

“Judging someone’s appearance and inferring that it has any relation to their credentials isn’t such a professional thing to do, you know,” you raised your chin proudly, jutting a pointer finger to his chest. He clearly didn’t expect this because he scowled and took a step back, while you fought the grin that threatened to paint your face. “Would you like it if people told you that you’re not qualified to be a lawyer because of your tattoos and piercings?”

He scoffed, “I don’t want to be a lawyer. As you can see, I’m a tattoo artist. And to answer your question, no, I don’t give a fuck what people think about me.”

“I can tell,” you muttered to yourself before smiling back up at him. He was too easy to read; his brow quivering and lips firm at your faux enthusiasm. “But yes, I do believe I’m qualified! I’m a fast learner and I’m even quick on my feet! I’m really good at talking to people too so I believe I can help schedule client appointments really well and guide them with this whole process.”

“Being front desk man doesn’t mean serving the clients tea and biscuits.”

“I know.”

“You know?” he snorted with a roll of his eyes. He then gestured you to follow him all the way back to the front desk. You expected he’d teach you about how to handle the appointment books or pick up phone calls, but instead he plopped down on the leather couch of the waiting area, his legs crossed on top of the other.

Your eyes followed the patch of pale skin exposed from his ripped jeans before you looked away, not wanting him to see that you found him attractive despite his less than welcoming personality.

“What exactly do you know about this industry?”

“Nothing, to be honest, but I’m not here to be a tattoo artist or anything. I just really need a job and I assure you I’ve got plenty of experience and knowledge when it comes to manning front desks or counters,” you stated confidently, “I know I look out of place, but I really need this job.”

The man only narrowed his eyes at you. Contemplation was written all over his face, probably wondering why you couldn’t just work somewhere else. “Why come here, of all places?”

“Because it’s the only one that has a flexible schedule,” you sighed, “I can’t work shifts anymore because I’m too busy at university. From when I talked to your boss – Geto, was it? – he said that the salon was open 24/7 and I could work until before my classes start. He’s not really strict about that kind of thing.”

“So you mean to tell me,” he leaned forwards, looping his fingers with one another while his ice cold gaze slithered over your desperate ones. “You’ll be at university for half the day, sleep until midnight, and then come here to work and attend class a few hours later? Isn’t your schedule a little irregular?”

“Oh no, it’s not like that! I also have mock classes after uni and it lasts until late at night, then I help clean at the local shelter. They’re running out of volunteers and the dogs are really adorable and take my stress away so...I make sure to come by when I have time.”

“You are one odd creature,” he noted loudly, almost as if he wasn’t completely aware he vocalized his thoughts. Well, at least now you knew he wasn’t the type to think his words over, which either made him more entertaining – or insufferable the longer you worked with him – if you began working anyway. “You could’ve used your spare time to rest. Do you even eat?”

“Yeah, I have a granola bar right now with me! I actually brought two,” you pulled out the snack from your bag, “You want some? I only got the oats, though.”

“Keep it to yourself,” he rolled his eyes, slapping his hands over his knees before rummaging over something behind the counter. “Fine. If Geto said he’s okay with you, then you’re hired.”

“Really, that easy?” your eyes widened, but then you chuckled when this strange man glared at you in response. He sighed as he pulled out a piece of paper, a pen on top of it. The papers read something about application forms and credentials, and you beamed, happily writing your information away with a slight bounce in your toes.

Unable to keep your happiness to yourself, you looked back at the bored man, wiggling your eyebrows playfully. “Huh. I was kind of expecting you would grill me – you’ve got that scary look in your eye. Let me guess, you often scare clients off?”

It seemed he could never get tired of glaring at you, because his eyes fuelled with heat as he leaned against the wall.

You hated to admit that he looked ridiculously handsome like that – the guy wasn’t even doing anything remotely attractive in the first place!

“I’m the most booked artist here, and I ask that you don’t get too comfortable with me. You haven’t even started working here and you’re already riling up on my train,” he groaned when you merely laughed in response. He made quick work of signing something in your form before handing you a key. “Here’s for your locker. Come to work tomorrow. Geto won’t be around for a week so I’ll be the one judging your performance. If you fuck up in the slightest – I won’t hesitate to fire you, you understand? We always have Yuuji coming around anyway, you’re really not that needed for the front desk.”

“Oh,” you nodded at his harshness, unsure whether to feel threatened or amused. “O-okay. I’ll do my best then. I look forward to you – ah, wait, what’s your name?”

“Fushiguro Megumi.”

“Oh, that’s a pretty name,” you muttered to yourself, uttering his name over and over again until it rolled smoothly on your tongue. “Shame you have a shitty attitude along with that handsome face, though.”

“You trying to say something?”

You faced him, about to laugh when he scowled at your not-so-subtle comments. Waving your hands to him, you made your way out the door, your smile only irritating him further. “No, I wasn’t. I’ll be taking my leave then – see you tomorrow!”

Seems like working in a tattoo studio wouldn’t be so bad.

You came to work the next day early and pumped with adrenaline. The idea of meeting the moody tattoo artist caused you to be giggly and happy the whole day, not even feeling the exhaustion of a long day of hard work as you made your way inside the shop.

Clocking in at exactly two in the morning, you proudly tugged your name badge on top of your left breast, patting it for good luck.

The bells jingled, making you look away from your tag. “Good morning – oh, where’s Megumi?” The man standing in front of you was taller than Megumi, his head nearly knocking over the doorframe if it wasn’t for his poor, slouched lanky frame.

He had white hair that brushed atop his cerulean blue eyes, and your eyes widened because wow, he was beautiful.

“Hey, you must be Y/N! Megumi told me you came around yesterday but he didn’t tell me the counter girl was this pretty,” He was in front of you the next second, his nose nearly grazing over yours that had you leaning back into the wall for space. “Hmm...he didn’t tell me that at all.”

“Oh, thank you. You are...?”

“I’m Gojo Satoru, one of the senior artists here. Since Megumi isn’t here yet, let me give you a tour!” Before you could react, Satoru already had an arm wrapped around your shoulder, his other arm waving and pointing to all the hung paintings and labels on each door. You found it odd that he treated you like you were an old friend, but you weren’t going to complain. Nice co-workers were always welcomed.

“Here is the holding area where clients wait to get their session done. This is Geto’s studio and right next to that is his office where he does all the finances and all that jazz, while this is my studio. Cool, isn’t it?”

Your mouth fell ajar as Satoru led you inside his studio, the walls painted the same aquatic shade of his eyes, but what caught your attention was the galaxy themed tattoo designs he made. They came in different shapes – a volcano head, a dragon, a worm, a four-armed monster – but inside them were all galaxies with sparkling and burning stars. You could see everything and nothing all at the same time.

“Whoa, you made all this?!”

Satoru’s chest puffed out proudly, “Yeah, I did. I’m flattered by your reaction, I really am, but you haven’t seen Megumi’s yet. There’s a reason our salon boomed even though he’s only been working here for two years.”

At the mention of his name, your interest was piqued, all ears and curious smiles directed to Satoru. “Oh, can I see Megumi’s studio?”

“You can – if you book an appointment.”

“But I don’t plan on getting any tattoos,” you frowned.

“You’ll never get to see his work then,” he chuckled to himself, the sound growing louder when you visibly deflated. What was the point of getting your hopes up like that then? “Megumi doesn’t like letting others in his studio without permission or an appointment.”

“Why not?”

“He’s just iffy about it,” he shrugged, “Don’t bother trying to decode his personality anymore, Megumi’s very hard to understand. Though if I were to make sense of it...” he rubbed his chin, eyes looking out into the distance. “I guess you could say Megumi’s not the type to be showy when it comes to his work of art. Did that clear it up?”

You blinked back blankly. “No, not really. But it’s fine – I don’t plan on getting to know him anyway.”

That was the biggest lie of your life.

The moment Megumi came around a few minutes later, a loud groan upon your animated greeting over his arrival, your chest bloomed with a different kind of fluttery warmth. He rarely came out after that, clients swarming in to both his and Satoru’s studios, but each faint glimpse of his door cracking open that allowed you to see him focused as he worked, you could no longer deny the heat burning down your legs.

You crushed on the grumpy tattoo artist.

And the more you came around work, greeting him zealously and teasing him to no end that he’d look hotter if he smiled, your crush only intensified for him – completely unaware that he too, couldn’t get his thoughts off of you even with his door closed.

In fact, he kept his door closed all the time because your voice distracted him too much.

“Hey, Y/N, you free?”

You looked up from the textbook you were reviewing, slamming it shut when Satoru’s head peeked out from his studio. He was still wearing gloves with a pen between his fingers, most likely still in the middle of a session.

“Yep! We don’t have appointments yet and I’ve already closed it for non-appointees. Did you need me to get you something?”

“Yeah, could you get Megumi for me? He isn’t picking his phone up and one of our special clients are coming soon. I’m packed right now so I can’t fetch him. I’ll send you the address and you get him, yeah? Just open the counter if you need money for a cab.”

You blinked owlishly at him. On one side, you’d be more than glad to see Megumi again. He hadn’t arrived despite it being four in the morning already, and you were worried, but you also didn’t have his number to ask how he was doing. Progress with Megumi was...slow, to say the least.

He still holed himself up in his studio, coming out only for bathroom breaks, although you noticed a drastic improvement when he finally began to mutter an almost shy “good morning” under his breath for the past few weeks.

It wasn’t much, but you’d have to make do.

“Uhm, when is this client of his coming? Should I run...?”

“Yeah, you need to fucking run. They’re coming in an hour and a half!” Satoru exclaimed, flailing his hands around like a madman.

Even after working with him for some time, you still couldn’t believe the older man was practically a man child, even asking for head pats sometimes. He would lean down with a pout, using a squeaky voice to call your attention, which always succeeded in Megumi fake gagging before he locked himself inside his studio.

“Forwarded you his address. Really sorry for the inconvenience, Y/N!”

“It’s okay!” you jumped out of your seat in an instant, not bothering to take your name tag off anymore as you left the salon, hailing the nearest cab.

Megumi lived quite far from the salon, which had you wondering why he chose to work there when there were plenty of salons in his area too. His place looked shady, as well, his apartment in a high-rise building with endless graffiti and several drunk stragglers hooting for you.

You ignored them all, taking two steps at a time from his staircase, your hands on your knees as you panted for air. Why did he have to live on the tenth floor?

“Megumi! Megumi!” you banged your fist on the door, throat parched from your sudden cardio session. You were sure you burned ten calories just from that sprint, and you sighed in relief when Megumi swung the door open, still looking handsome – and sleep-deprived – as ever in his black shirt and black skinny jeans.

“What?” he demanded. After seeing that it was you, he quickly snatched a water bottle and passed it your way, closing his door behind him. “Y/N? What are you doing here? How’d you know where I live?”

“Satoru said you had a really important client. You weren’t picking your phone up so he sent me to come get you.”

“It’s my day off,” he grumbled, answering your silent questions, your worries dissipating into thin air. Once you’d satisfied yourself by basically dunking the entire bottle, Megumi rolled his eyes, his hands flat on the small of your back while he guided you downstairs. The sudden touch flamed your cheeks; a stupid smile on your face. You were shameless, though, leaning back closer to him in the darkness of the early morning. “Why does he send a girl out of all people?”

“Something wrong with that?”

“It’s unsafe. My neighbourhood isn’t the best and who knows what would’ve happened to you if some goons came out?” Megumi hailed for a back, surprising you when he let you get in first and paid for the fee despite your outstretched hand prepared with the bills. “I can’t believe Sukuna chose this day to come of all times. I can never get a damn break.”

“Sukuna?”

“A special client. He’s a really huge tipper and comes on odd schedules – I didn’t think he’d come now.”

“Yeah, I checked the papers and he wasn’t there,” you frowned to yourself.

Megumi pressed his head against the window, eyes closed as his chest heaved up and down rhythmically. With the sun slowly shining from behind you, the golden stretches of it outlined his sharp features you adored, and you rested your chin on your palms, eyelashes fluttering at his beauty. “You know, Megumi, you’re really pissy sometimes – but you’re quite nice, aren’t you? I’d say you were even worried for me.”

He cracked one eye open, those blue eyes still shining with irritation, but make no mistake since his ears were flushed red. “I’m not. I just don’t want to be involved in a police investigation if they find your body near here.”

“How sweet of you.”

“Shut up.”

You and Megumi were beginning to get closer. You couldn’t pinpoint where he started to grow more comfortable with you, but it was definitely there and it was painfully evident that even someone stupid like Satoru noticed the sexual between you two.

He would always sniff the air whenever you and Megumi sat next to each other during lunch breaks, a wide grin on your face while Megumi buried his face in his hands, groaning because he knew the moment Satoru opened his mouth, nothing but dumb comments would come out. And dumb comments they were; the white-haired man merciless as he teased Megumi for acting like a cute little kid around you.

You never took it to heart, though. It was Megumi you were talking about; he was hot and cold; sweet then distant from one moment then an entire person the next.

Not that you minded, it only added to your fuelling crush on him, but you couldn’t control the way your heart fluttered every time Satoru whispered that he did like you, excusing that Megumi just wasn’t the best with words. Apparently, Megumi had spent too much time holed up in his apartment and studio that he had zero to little knowledge on how to talk to pretty girls – especially one that was clearly attracted to him as well.

Satoru encouraged you to go for it – that you should confess or break the ice first otherwise Megumi would never do anything about his raging boner every time you came around.

You only flushed at his statement, but you couldn’t deny that you too felt the same way.

One morning where Satoru and Geto were out restocking supplies, you and Megumi were left alone in the salon. Of course, he still resorted in the comfort of his studio, muttering under his breath that he wanted to try some designs before disappearing. Only this time, he left the door slightly open, the lights peeking through the slight crack.

Walking up to him with muted footsteps, you leaned over his shoulder, glancing over a sketch of...you? “Are you drawing me?”

Megumi yelped at your voice right next to his ear, throwing the paper away on the other side of the room before glaring at you. You laughed at his reaction, because how was it possible he was both so criminally sexy yet adorable? He looked terribly gorgeous today, as well, wearing a short sleeved black hoodie and black sweatpants, looking so comfortable and boyfriend like – and you couldn’t even begin to express your appreciation over his new lip piercing.

“Why do you always sneak up on me?” he snapped, “Didn’t I tell you I wanted privacy?”

“Then why aren’t you pushing me away?”

Megumi sighed exasperatedly, turning back to organize his pencils before glaring at you. “What do you want? Got no one else to bother since Satoru isn’t around?”

“I just wanted to see your art,” you mentioned, but kept your eyes directed on him instead of the plethora of sketches and designs hanging from his wall as to not offend him. “Satoru told me to never come inside. He said you’re really...private when it comes to your works,” you furrowed your brows at the last part, feeling your heart beat pulse at your tongue.

It was now or never.

“Can I see your tattoos too?”

“Why do you want to see them?”

“A work of art on a canvas who’s also a work of art himself?” you finally gained confidence to tease him again, getting riled up further when Megumi stiffened at your curious hands travelling under his shirt. His breath sharpened as his glare only deepened, though he didn’t make a move to stop you. “Why wouldn’t I want to see that?”

“Being flirty doesn’t work on you. It’s not cute.”

“You’re blushing though,” you remarked. Megumi groaned and pushed your face away until your buttocks landed on his recliner. Satisfied with Megumi not completely kicking you out, you swung your legs back and forth, still staring at his hoodie as if it was an offensive material.

“Can I...see?” Megumi rolled his eyes before he lifted his shirt up, revealing to you intricate patches of black ink splattered over ripples of muscles. Your mouth salivated, and somewhere down there, you drooled too. Tentatively, your hands reached out to finger the image of canines, Megumi shuddering over your cold touch on his warm skin. “It’s beautiful. What does it mean?”

Megumi pursed his lips before whispering, “These are the dogs I had as a child. My father got me them so I wouldn’t be too lonely when he’s away from work.”

“They’re very pretty. They look like black and white wolves,” you smiled, elated that he was opening up in more ways than one. Your touch flitted over to a winged creature under his left collarbone, small letters beside the image. “And this bird? Nue? He’s so majestic,” Your hands never stopped in trailing over his skin like a lost wanderer, sweeping over ink ink until Megumi completely discarded his hoodie to the side, his back faced to you.

A white viper tattoo stood large on his broad back, crawling until over his shoulder with the fangs ending just above his pecs. Megumi swallowed at each slivering touch, your fingers dipping and caressing every dent and curve of his body.

You couldn’t get your eyes off of him, your breath hitching in your throat as one of your hands gripped his biceps subconsciously. “You’re so beautiful.”

Megumi stiffened when your thumbs grazed over his nipple right next to the viper’s fang. Almost as if a switch was triggered inside him, Megumi growled, ducking to capture your lips with his in a sloppy, heated kiss. His hands tugged at the ends of your hair to arch your neck to him, his knees slapping your legs open before he settled comfortably between you, his low groans mixing with your breath moans.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. From the moment I met you,” he nibbled your lips, hands trailing down to thumb at your hipbones. “I knew that innocent good girl look was nothing but an act.”

You smiled through the kiss, a tiny gasp falling from your lips when Megumi pulled you closer until your heat grinded against the hardness inside his pants. Laughing at his harsh movements, you let Megumi tilt your head back, his lips sucking and teeth gently nipping at the sensitive flesh of your neck.

“Innocent girl?” you echoed, legs now wrapped around his waist to pull him closer. “What makes you think I am?”

“White lace panties? Short tennis skirts and sunshine smiles?” Megumi clenched his teeth, his hands eager as he tugged the white lace down until it looped to your ankles. You gasped, back arching when he thrusted two fingers inside you, curling and fingering against your bumpy walls. “You’re not fooling anyone, baby, especially not me.”

“Took you long enough to understand I wanted you though,” you chuckled through broken moans, eyes shut tight while your legs opened wider, heels digging into the hard cushion of his seats. “I was wondering when I’d get to break you from that tough guy act of yours and have you fuck me good,” Megumi growled at your words. You leaned forward to scratch at his chest, your tongue licking the shell of your ear as you rasped, “And on a side note, I am a good girl – only to those who can make me feel good, of course.”

Megumi cupped his palm to collect your arousal dripping of his, finally shutting you up when his fingers grazed over your sweet spot that had you clenching around him. And those were just his fingers. “You’re something else, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I know,” you nodded smugly, hands coming up to tug harshly at his hair. Megumi hissed at the sharp pain, prompting him to fuck his fingers in and out of you faster until you leaked down to his chair, thighs trembling and your high-pitched moans coating the walls of his stupid. “Megumi, ah! Just shut up and fuck me already – been wanting you long enough.”

“Needy little girl,” He pressed you down on the reclining seat, settling between your legs before he spread your lips open with two thumbs. At the sight of your bare cunt clenching around nothing, Megumi groaned, teeth biting his lip because he could cum right then and there. “Fuck, look at you. So wet already,” he ran a hand over your slit to collect your arousal, eyes dark with lust as your juices webbed between his fingers. “All this for me? You’re so good.”

“Fuck – yeah, yeah I am,” you leaned back harder into the seat, groping at your own breasts while you nodded dumbly, too fucked out to even form a coherent response. “Going to be good for you, Megumi, gonna make you feel good.”

“Sorry, babe, maybe next time. I’m too impatient to not feel your pussy around me,” he pushed away at your hands that planned to pump his cock, his hand coming down to push you hard against the seat until his weight loomed over you.

You felt Megumi begin to align his tip at your center, dampening his mushroom head with your arousal first that had you both moaning left and right.

Hands scratching down his back as your teeth dug into your lips, Megumi pushed into you with one thrust, the sudden stretch making your legs shake and your body writhe underneath him. “Shit, why are you so tight? So fucking warm and perfect,” he rasped next to your ear, and you could hear how hard he was breathing as he thrusted into you, his cock hitting all the right places.  “Could fuck this pretty pussy all day, baby, shit.”

“Me-Megumi – t-too big!”

“Shh, you’ll be fine. You’ll take it like a good girl, won’t you?” he cupped your cheek, grinning sinisterly as he watched the way your greedy walls sucked him in. “See how you take me so well? You’re so small and pretty wrapped around my cock. I could break you if I wanted you,” he growled, his hands gripping hard at your hips when you clenched around him, enticing the man above you to quicken his pace.

Megumi watched with a lust filled gaze as your breasts bounced at the relentless pace he started, his balls slapping at your ass. “Oh, you’d want that, wouldn’t you? You want to be stuffed with my fat cock in you? Fuck you until you’re a drooling mess? You’re so gorgeous when I fuck you stupid.”

“Yes, Megumi, agh. Keep going, keep going, I’m so close!”

“Oh, you feel like heaven around me,” he praised at your neck, his cock stretching you wide and pushing into you. Megumi groaned lowly at your ear as his palms flattened over your stomach that bulged every time he thrusted in, his balls tightening at the sight. “Look at how big I am for you, baby, but you’re doing so well. You were made for me – made to take my cock, shit, you’re so perfect around me. Gonna make you feel good, yeah? You’re such a good girl for me. Cum, baby, that’s right – I’m allowing you to cum.”

“Gumi, Gumi, fuckkk,” your legs tightened around him as Megumi panted with each harsh thrust, the black marks over his skin expanding and stretch when his forearm rested beside your head. His muscles clenched as he fucked into you deep, over and over again until he pushed you over the edge.

A silent sob left your lips when you came around him, your juices creaming around his cock. A few thrusts later, Megumi fell on top of you as you felt him spill his seed inside you.

He had too much that you felt both your cum dripping down your ass; Megumi pulling out with a slight wince from the oversensitivity. You struggled to catch your breath as you laid there, legs wide open and the cool air hitting your bare pussy. The door was still open, and Satoru and Geto could walk in on you both looking like this, but you couldn’t care, not when you could barely feel your legs.

You dropped your arm over your face, hearing Megumi pull his pants back up. “That was...”

“Intense?”

“Yeah,” you chuckled, wincing as you sat up. Your hair stuck to your forehead in sweaty clumps, dawning on you now that you were still very much covered in your sticky cum. You recoiled from the seats as you realized Megumi hadn’t even put on a towel underneath.

“Shit. Is this chair even clean?”

“I sanitize it every after session. Don’t worry about it,” he rolled his eyes, his tattoos covered and hidden from your sight once more when he pulled his hoodie over his head. Megumi retrieved a clean towel from his drawers and wiped at your sensitive pussy, your legs immediately closing around his hands when the towel accidentally grazed your clit.

Megumi gripped your knees with a silent glare. “Stay still. I’m cleaning you up.”

“I didn’t peg you as an aftercare guy. Thought you would leave me hanging here,” you teased, but really, you were feeling warm all over again as you watched Megumi wipe you all the way down to your other hole, your legs still tensing up.

Once he left to wash his hands, you could relax, tugging your panties back up with immense struggle. He wasn’t kidding when he said he’d fuck you good – you could barely feel your legs now.

“And have you make a mess by ruining my seat?” he sighed as he returned, helping you seady yourself while he snapped the slightly soaked panty back to your core. “No thanks.”

“You’re so mean, Megumi. I’m hurt.”

He rolled his eyes at your pout, leaning down to kiss you square on the lips. This time around, the kiss wasn’t rushed; it was slow and sensual, firm yet gentle, and his hands carefully massaged your sore hips that would soon bruise from his grip before.

“No, you’re not,” he mumbled through your lips, mimicking that lovesick smile on your face as he pulled away. “But babe, you know the rules. Now that you’ve seen my work of art – what tattoo would you like me to give you? My name on your inner thigh?”

[kjmsupremacist]

baby, you’re my angel (chan/felix)

Mildly popular TikTok songwriter Felix meets Chan, famous on TikTok for his music and music reviews. They bond over their common ground, friendship blossoming easy and sweet. There’s two problems. One: Felix thinks he likes Chan more than just as friends. Two: Chan is almost fifteen years his senior.

Chapter 5   |   prev   next   mlist

Characters: Felix, Chan, the rest of skz

Genre: college au, romance, fluff, smut, angst

Pairing: Chan/Felix

Warnings: swearing, age gap, smut, daddy kink, cockwarming, semi-public sex, anal plugs, deepthroating/throat-fucking

Rating: Explicit

Length: 6.5k

just a friendly reminder that i dont condone age gap in real life, this is just fiction, im just having fun, etc :)

The week passes slowly. Felix gets his essay done, turns it in, gets an A-minus. For the most part, things are the same. He does his work, he spends too much time procrastinating, he stays up too late fucking around with his friends. But in small, crucial ways, things are completely different. Felix mutes Chan’s texts, just in case. He rarely replies if he’s around people. He guards his words, fearful that he’ll let something slip if he doesn’t pay close enough attention. 

They can’t all fit in Chan’s car, so they take a bus across the city on Friday afternoon. Felix has his bag packed, since he and Chan are (truthfully, this time) planning to go to the studio tomorrow morning to work on new music. His friends accepted this explanation easily; it’s more convenient to go straight there instead of making Chan take a twenty-minute detour to campus, when his studio is only a five minute drive from his apartment. 

The good news is they both found time during the week to get tested, and both came back clean, so Felix is looking forward to this weekend a little extra. He packs one outfit only—he can’t afford to stay an extra night, especially not two weeks in a row—but he does pack a little silver plug. The flat end is shaped like a heart, which Felix hopes Chan finds cute.

“7pm release, right?” Seungmin asks, checking the time. 

“We’ll get there with plenty of time to spare,” Felix says, glancing at his phone, too. It’s only 5:30, and Chan said he already started cooking. They should be done with eating before they need to do a quick countdown live.

It is a Friday afternoon, so traffic isn’t great, but soon they’re standing in the lobby of Chan’s building, and Chan is walking out of the elevator with a smile.

“Hi everybody,” he says. “You’re right on time. I just finished cooking.”

Felix wondered if it might be odd to see him again after what happened last weekend. Chatting via text is one thing; being close enough to touch is quite another. But when Chan’s eyes land on him, Felix doesn’t feel strange or awkward. It’s close to relief, he thinks, to be near to him. He ends up on the opposite side of the elevator when they all pile in, and he tries his best not to stare the whole ride up.

Like Felix, Chan had a little bit of makeup on. It’s for the camera, strictly speaking, but Felix has a feeling it’s a little bit for him, too. At least, he chose his own makeup by thinking about what Chan might like. In any case, he looks beautiful as ever, in a crisp white button down tucked into royal blue dress pants, with his hair straightened and styled. They’d agreed on semi-formal attire, so Felix is in a similar shirt with grey pants. He even wore his black ankle boots that have a little heel—which probably won’t be seen by the camera, but will definitely be seen—and appreciated—by Chan. 

Chan’s apartment smells like food. He’s made fried chicken and japchae (“You made this yourself?” Jeongin gasps. “Like, all of it from scratch?”), and he also had a collection of banchan laid out on the table. 

“I always liked banchan,” he says quietly to Felix as he reaches past him to get the bowls. “Because it sounds like my name!”

“You’re a dork,” Felix says drily, but he knows Chan sees his smile. 

There’s something disorienting, yet nonetheless sweet, about seeing his friends in Chan’s kitchen. Though he flushes at the memory of what they did the last time he was here, Felix can’t help but fall into the fantasy just a little—him and Chan, hosting a dinner together. Chan pulls alcohol out of the fridge for them after double-checking that Jeongin is, in fact, an adult. Felix grabs utensils, Jisung gets napkins, Seungmin helps Chan carry bottles to the table, and Hyunjin uses his spectacular height to reach the nice water glasses with ease. 

Dinner is warm and easy. Chan sets Jisung up with their music accounts so he can drop the track while Chan and Felix are saying bye to the fans on live. Hyunjin offers to help with the livestream. 

“I’m a media arts major, after all,” he says, almost loftily. Jeongin snickers.

They leave the dishes for later—there’s no time now, and their fans are waiting. Felix positions himself just out of frame as Chan sets up his cameras and lights in his room. 

“Hey guys!” Chan waves, laughing softly at what Felix assumes must be a flood of comments. “I’ll wait for more people to join, but as I’m sure you all know, my first song with a very special someone is about to be released in, uh, sixteen minutes by my clock!” A pause. “Stop spamming him, guys, he’s not gonna join the live. At least… not like that.” He looks up and grins at Felix, jerking his head at him to come over. “Cuz he’s right here.”

Felix slides into frame on the other office chair, bumping into Chan as he slows to a stop. “Hey!” The chat is moving at the speed of light, and every single comment is in all caps. Felix grins to himself. “What, you thought we wouldn’t celebrate the release of our first song together? He lives like twenty minutes from me, that would be stupid.” 

“Okay, for those of you asking about the rice cake song, which seems to be all of you,” Chan says, squinting at the chat, “yes, we will release it; no, we’re not sure when yet; yes, it’s a full length track. We’ll probably announce something next week. Don’t worry!”

“Sticky, soft, ‘n’ spicy, p—“ Chan’s hand is over Felix’s mouth before he can even finish rapping the line. “HEY,” he adds as best he can from behind Chan’s palm. 

“No,” Chan says firmly. He tries to sound serious, but he’s fighting back laughter. “They’ll hear it soon enough. Don’t ruin the surprise.”

Felix does the only other logical thing. He licks Chan’s palm.

Surprisingly, though, Chan just turns and gives him a look. “He just licked me, in case anybody was wondering,” he adds offhand to the viewers. “I have two younger siblings, you know.”

Somehow, the image of a young Chan, wrestling with brothers and sisters, pierces Felix’s heart with a keen sort of longing, so sharp and so sudden that he stops struggling entirely. He often forgets that Chan is a big brother, that he has a family, that he was young once. Sometimes Felix can’t imagine it; in his mind Chan sprang into the world fully-formed, as he is now—a body like a god’s paired with fun, young dad energy, somehow complementary. But now, in this moment, Felix can see it as clear as his own memories: one frame, frozen, surrounded by a void of mystery. Chan has a whole history that Felix knows nothing about. The tug in his gut that wants to know more is almost like hunger. 

Chan releases him when he realizes he’s not fighting back and moves on. Felix shakes himself mentally, trying to look more mollified than—he isn’t even sure what it is he’s actually feeling. But whatever it is, its place is not here, on camera, in front of tens of thousands of viewers.

“Anyway, as for this song, I think you’re going to hear a new side of Felix for sure,” Chan says, raising an eyebrow at Felix. “Be sure to let us know what you think, yeah? Anything to add, Lix?”

“I think you’ll be really surprised,” Felix says, grinning slyly. “But if you like it, we’ll make more. I’m excited to share it.”

“I’d also just like to shoutout Felix’s friends,” Chan adds. “They’re here helping behind the scenes.” He smiles at the group of them clustered out of frame by the door. “Definitely making this run a lot smoother, and also making it feel a little more festive.”

“They’re asking about your friends, Chan,” Felix says, nodding at the comments. 

“My friends? Most of them are busy.” Chan gives an embarrassed laugh. “Or they just have normal Friday night plans. Or they’re back in Korea, so…” He shrugs, gesturing towards Felix’s friends. “They’re filling in for that, too, I guess.”

Jisung clutches his heart and collapses back on Seungmin, who shoves him aside onto the floor. Felix giggles. “They’re honored, I think,” he says. 

“Drop in two!” Jisung whisper-shouts from the floor, holding up a hand.

“That’s our cue to wrap up and release you guys so you can go listen to it. It’ll be on Spotify, Apple Music, and YouTube; we’re working on other apps, but I think that should cover almost everybody,” Chan says. “Thank you for all your anticipation, and we hope you enjoy it.”

“Thank you!” Felix echoes, waving. Chan wraps an arm around his shoulders, scooting as close as he can, and Felix finds himself laughing as Hyunjin cuts the live. 

Jisung is poised over three different devices, checking the phone Jeongin is holding up in front of his face. He bursts into action as Felix rolls away from the desk and retrieves his own phone from Seungmin. 

“Any trouble?” Chan asks him after a moment of silence. 

“I don’t think so.” Jisung sits back. “Will you check?”

Felix goes to his Spotify and refreshes the page. “It’s up on Spotify,” he says cheerily. 

“I see it on Apple Music,” Chan says. 

“It’s on YouTube as well,” Hyunjin confirms.

“Good job, team,” Chan says, standing. “Do we want champagne?”

“Yes, please!”

☼ ☼ ☼

Chan puts some music on and they drink and dance and laugh. Felix doesn’t really get all that drunk; he doesn’t want to get too sleepy too early.

He ends up getting a little too slutty with the dancing anyway. At one point, he’s nose to nose with Jisung, and though he’s not facing him, he can feel Chan’s gaze from across the room. It burns in him, stokes a fire that’s been building in his gut all day. 

Around eleven, his friends decide they should probably head back—likely worried about keeping Chan up too late, though they say it’s because they don’t want to take a later bus, despite the fact that they’ll be perfectly safe either way. 

“Text me when you get back,” Felix says anyway, watching them put their shoes on. 

“Thank you for your help tonight,” Chan says. “You’re welcome back anytime.”

“Thank you!” Felix’s friends chorus as they file out into the hall. Felix watches until they round the corner, then gently pushes the door shut, turning to find Chan’s eyes on him. 

The apartment feels incredibly quiet all of a sudden. A mixture of emotions surges in Felix’s chest: longing and affection and most of all, desire, turning his skin hot. There’s a sort of stillness between him and Chan, like the world right before a thunderstorm.

Felix’s fingers twitch at his side, and the stillness is broken. Chan steps into his space, crowding him against the door, reaching behind him to lock the door as his lips meet Felix’s. 

Felix moans into his mouth, his hands finding Chan’s jaw, his hair, the sturdiness of his arms. Something close to a growl rumbles up out of Chan’s chest; he presses impossibly closer, skimming his fingers across the length of Felix’s torso. “Missed you, baby,” he murmurs when he draws away for a breath. Felix’s knees tremble. 

“Daddy,” he whispers back, slack-jawed. Chan nips at his lips, pushing his tongue past Felix’s teeth. Felix lets him, too weak to try and maintain some semblance of control—not that he wants to. He gives himself over to Chan with ease; his mind, his body, all of it. Maybe even his heart.

“I like your friends,” Chan says, “but I’m glad they’re gone. Wanted to do so many things to you.”

Felix doesn’t know how to respond without sounding stupid. Wanted to let you, he thinks.

Chan pulls him away from the door, stepping back clumsily to make room. “You looked so hot when you were dancing,” he continues. He starts down the hall, walking backwards, guiding Felix with his hands and his lips. “I can’t deny that it made me a little jealous. But it was just because I could barely stand to keep my hands off you. Didn’t help that we had to spend a week apart.”

“You’re all I thought about,” Felix confesses in a rush of breath. They’re in the living room now; the shades are already drawn, so Chan doesn’t pause, not even to turn out the lights. He manhandles Felix to the couch, pushing him down into one of the plush seats and hovering over him.

“Yeah?” he says. “Good. You’re all I thought about, too.”

“Too far away,” Felix mutters, fingers trying to grab on to the slippery fabric of Chan’s shirt. Chan plants a knee between Felix’s thighs to help himself balance, batting Felix’s useless hands away.

He unbuttons his shirt quickly and with ease, leaning in once the last button is free. “There,” he says. “Is this close enough?” He presses his lips to Felix’s neck; Felix tips his head to the side, whimpering softly when Chan’s knee brushes up against his cock.

He presses his hand flat to Chan’s stomach, reveling at the feeling of his skin under his palm, the slight movement of the muscle underneath. He brings his other hand around to Chan’s back, hooking his fingers in the divot of his spine. Chan is so hot, and he’s all Felix’s. The thought is a nice one, but it does nothing to temper his consuming impatience. 

A week is not a long time to be apart. Actually, it’s been less than a week; it’s been five days since Felix has last seen Chan, six since he’s fucked him. But still, he wants it like nothing else. His body responds to Chan’s naturally, skin breaking out in goosebumps wherever he’s touched, crawling with his anticipation, his lust. The unfairness of it all makes him want to scream. He shouldn’t have to feel this way. He should be able to have Chan all the time. 

He’s distracted by Chan’s hands on his waist. He scoots Felix down a little, so that he has no choice but to spread his legs wider, so that he’s open and vulnerable beneath him. Some of Chan’s hair has escaped his careful styling; it’s shrinking back to its natural curl at the tips. Somehow, this makes it better—Felix gets all of Chan, not just the bits and pieces he polishes up for the camera. Chan’s eyeshadow seems to make his eyes gleam as he looks down at Felix, holding him there against the couch with his gaze.

“Gonna fuck me here?” he asks him softly. “Like this?”

“We’re gross, and I don’t want to change my sheets,” Chan replies. “I don’t want to wait, either. Why, is here not okay?”

Felix sucks in a breath. “No,” he says quickly. “Here is good.” Anywhere, anywhere you want; anything, you can do anything. 

“Good,” Chan says. He reaches down to undo the buttons of Felix’s shirt, gaze hot as he tugs the fabric out of the way. “You hide such a nice body behind that cute face,” he murmurs, running a hand over Felix’s stomach before moving on to the clasp of his pants.

“What about lube?” Felix asks suddenly, only just realizing.

Chan grins, almost conspiratorially. “I hid some in the coffee table,” he says, tapping one of the drawers. “Just in case.”

Felix goes wide-eyed at him. “You planned this,” he accuses, trying and failing to come off as scandalized. 

“Maybe,” Chan says lightly, tapping Felix’s hip to get him to lift up so he can pull his pants down for him. “Maybe I just knew I would be impatient, knew this would happen the instant your friends were gone.”

Felix lets himself relax into the plush comfort of the couch, smiling. “Good job proving yourself right, then,” he giggles.

Chan’s grin grows; he stands so he can retrieve the hidden lube, handing it to Felix so he can undress quickly. “Don’t want to do it later when my hands are covered in lube,” he explains, even though Felix didn’t ask.

“I could always do it for you,” Felix points out, and Chan laughs. 

“I suppose that’s true,” he says, stepping out of his pants. “Nothing for it now.” He takes one of Felix’s calves in a big hand, moving it to the side as he sinks his knee back into the couch cushion so he can fit a hand between his thighs as well. He plucks the lube bottle out of Felix’s hands, opening it and squeezing a little dollop out onto his fingertip without looking. He sets the bottle to the side and leans in close, feeling around for Felix’s entrance as he captures his lips in another kiss. Felix gasps into his mouth when he pushes his finger in.

Chan’s hands, his fingers, are so huge compared to his own. Felix had forgotten—or maybe everything feels like more now, with the anticipation. He kisses Chan back, clings to him when he starts to move, unable to suppress a smile. It feels so good, and he’s so lucky to have this. 

“Fuck,” he mumbles against Chan’s lips when he adds a second finger. “Chan, Chan, I missed you.”

Chan’s laughter is low and satisfied. “Don’t have to miss me anymore,” he says. “I’m right here.”

For all his talk of impatience, Chan does take his time opening him up. He keeps Felix distracted with kisses, and Felix breathes in Chan’s cologne, earthy and sweet, hoping it might ground him a little before he lets his mind slip away from him completely. It’s hard, especially when Chan starts to stroke over his prostate, especially when he adds a third finger.

Soon, though perhaps not soon enough, Chan is withdrawing his fingers from Felix’s body, giving him one final peck on the lips. Felix is weak and boneless from this treatment, and can barely find a complaint. Besides, he’s not so far gone that he can’t remember what comes next. Chan slicks up his cock, spreads Felix’s ass with one hand, and catches Felix’s eye. “Relax for me, okay?” he says softly.

Felix nods, blinking up at him. Chan leans forward, supporting himself by taking a fistful of the back cushion of the couch, right by Felix’s head, and pushes into him. Felix’s jaw locks open in a silent moan, eyes wide as Chan keeps going until he bottoms out. Felix wonders faintly if he’ll ever get over it, the feeling of Chan inside of him, the weight of his cock, the way it stretches him open. He kind of doubts it.

He hooks his ankles around the back of Chan’s waist, trapping him in the circle of his legs, holding him close. Chan rolls his hips with ease, bending down so he can mouth at Felix’s neck, his chest. He brings his hand up to Felix’s cheek, cupping his jaw.

The reality of it sort of hits Felix suddenly—it’s almost ridiculous. His friends probably aren’t even home yet, and here he is getting fucked stupid into Chan’s couch. And they have no idea. Their fans, too—they’ve been leaving them comments and messages all night, and they have no idea. It’s definitely because he knows he shouldn’t, but that makes it better. There’s a distinct pleasure that comes from thinking about how scandalized everyone would be if they found out the truth. The fear that accompanies it is far from his mind in this moment. He can worry about that part later. 

“God, you feel so good, baby,” Chan says. “Good thing I didn’t know what I was missing this whole time, or I’d just never get anything done. I was so distracted all this week, thinking of you.”

“Chan,” Felix whimpers, breath hiccuping out of his lungs as Chan speeds up. He thinks about Chan shifting around in his desk chair, desperately trying to finish his work, but struggling to keep his mind off of him. He feels the warmth of the flush that covers his body, embarrassed and pleased at the same time.

Chan raises his head, brings his lips close to Felix’s ear. “No matter what I did, it wasn’t enough. I needed you.” He runs his thumb over Felix’s open lips, pressing his nose into his neck, licking over his pulse point. Felix’s flicks his tongue out, swiping it over the tip of Chan’s thumb. Chan groans against his skin, pushing his thumb into Felix’s mouth. Felix closes his lips around it, hollowing his cheeks instinctually, letting out a pleased little hum.

“Jesus, baby,” Chan murmurs. “Bet you’re good at sucking cock.” Felix preens, nodding gently so he doesn’t hurt Chan. “Yeah? How about sometime tomorrow?” Felix nods again, whining a little to let Chan know how much he wants it. He’s been wanting to get his mouth on Chan’s cock, it’s just that so far he’s been more interested in getting fucked. Sometime tomorrow sounds good to him. “Tomorrow, then,” Chan continues, kissing his jaw. “I’ll fuck your throat, angel, if you want.”

“Want it,” Felix demands, muffled and garbled by Chan’s thumb. 

Chan presses the pad of his finger against Felix’s tongue. “Okay,” he soothes. “Don’t want to do it before we record, though. Can’t go messing up your instrument.”

That’s fine with Felix, too. He sucks on Chan’s thumb insistently, letting soft little moans out through his nose with every one of his thrusts. Chan’s grip on his jaw tightens; he rocks in, out, in, out, rough and dizzying and deep. Felix unhooks his ankles so he can let his legs drop open wider. He feels so dirty, letting Chan fuck him open like this, lying limp beneath him and letting him take and take. His thoughts run slow and lethargic through his mind, dulled by a haze of pleasure.

He’s surprised to hear Chan laughing. “I feel like a fuckin’ teenager,” he says. “I’m already close, baby. Hope you don’t hold it against me. It’s your fault, anyway, it’s what you do to me.”

Felix moans shakily, enthralled and enticed by the idea that he affects Chan just as bad as Chan affects him. Chan slips his thumb out of Felix’s mouth, giving Felix the space to reply. “It’s okay,” Felix says breathlessly. “I’m close, too.”

And he is, closer now when Chan wraps his hand around Felix’s cock and starts stroking him in time with his thrusts. He hadn’t realized how much precome had been dribbling out of his cock until Chan’s fist is instantly slick with it. Wet sounds fill the air, loud and obscene and hot. Felix feels sweat forming on his forehead as he pants, bucking his hips up into Chan’s hand, chasing the friction, whining for more. 

He can feel it when Chan’s about to come, can feel the way he twitches inside him, the way his hips falter and lose their rhythm, and then all he feels is heat, filling him up like he’s been wanting all week. 

“Oh, fuck, daddy,” he whimpers, and Chan groans, speeding up his hand. 

Felix comes with a cry, Chan buried deep inside him, shooting come up his stomach as he falls apart in Chan’s hands. He finds himself waiting as overwhelming pleasure washes over him, so powerful it’s nearly suffocating. Chan strokes him, slowing when Felix settles back into the couch, still shaking. His skin feels like it’s on fire, he’s pretty sure his toes are numb, and he can’t stop letting out pathetic little moans, even after he stops coming, even after his release begins to cool on his skin. 

“You okay, baby?” Chan whispers after a moment.

Felix nods unsteadily, desperately trying to focus on Chan’s face. “Yeah,” he whispers, “yeah, I’m good. Really good. Fuck, Chan.”

Chan laughs weakly, pulling out clumsily and reaching down to stop Felix from dripping on the couch or the rug. Too late, Felix remembers the plug he brought, but, he supposes, it would be uncomfortable to wear to bed. That, too, can wait until tomorrow.

Chan kisses him gently, using his other hand to scoop him up off the couch, standing both of them up and cradling a still-trembling Felix into his chest. “Shower, then bed,” he says softly, kissing Felix’s cheek, his forehead, his temple. “We’ll deal with all the other cleanup in the morning. Sound good?”

Felix gives a sleepy hum, mouthing at Chan’s neck. “Sounds good to me,” he replies, not even bothering to open his eyes as Chan guides them out of the room and down the hall.

☼ ☼ ☼

Felix blinks awake to a dark room. He can just barely see a sliver of light, sneaking in through a crack in the curtains, but it’s not enough to illuminate much other than the floor upon which it falls. He feels fingers moving against his back, and realizes Chan is already awake. He shifts his head up, trying to peer at him through the darkness.

“Good morning,” Chan whispers, kissing his forehead.

“Morning,” Felix hums back. It’s hot under the blankets, pressed this close to Chan, but he doesn’t want to pull away. He stretches up so he can kiss Chan’s jaw. The movement makes him shift his hips, and that’s when he realizes why he feels so warm. He’s hard against Chan’s thigh; he whines softly without meaning to.

“Here’s what I’m thinking,” Chan says softly, his tone just barely touched by amusement. “We take care of that, get some breakfast, and then head into the studio. As long as we don’t drag our feet, we should be able to get in around eleven, which will give us plenty of time to get some work done. How does that sound?”

“Sounds good,” Felix murmurs.

“Roll over on your other side for me, then,” Chan says, stretching his arm back behind him to get the lube. 

“Wait, I packed a surprise.” Felix has to hand it to his half-awake, lust-clouded mind. Somehow, he remembers the little butt plug stashed away at the bottom of his bag. He drags himself from the bed, stumbling across the room in the dark to find it, returning triumphant with the metal warming in his palm. He presents it to Chan, who groans softly. 

“You want to wear it today when we’re recording?” he asks, taking it and opening his arms so Felix can get settled on the bed. “That’s so naughty, angel.”

“Want your come, daddy,” Felix says simply.

“You’re a menace, you know that?” Chan replies, reaching between their bodies to prep him. 

Chan fucks him slow and deep and dirty, murmuring praise into his ear, one strong arm wrapped tight around his body to keep him close.  Felix arches back against him, resting his head on Chan’s shoulders while Chan grinds into him. He comes in his own hand, moaning weakly when Chan fills him up only moments later. 

Chan pulls out and slips the plug in swiftly and cleanly, smoothing his palm over Felix’s ass when he’s done. “Alright,” he says, kissing Felix’s shoulder. “Will you take care of the sheets while I start breakfast?”

“Sure,” Felix mumbles, rolling onto his back so he can kiss Chan properly before relinquishing his grip on his wrists so they can both get up. 

Breakfast is quick and simple, just eggs and toast, and then they clean up the remnants of last night and change into outside clothes. Felix leaves his things—they’ll come home before Chan drives him back to his dorm—and follows Chan down the hall towards the elevators.

The plug was easier to ignore when he was just standing around, but in the car, every bump, every turn, has him squirming in his seat. Chan casts a knowing look at him at a red light. “What is it, baby?” he asks, faux sweetness and ignorance.

Felix pouts. “You know what,” he manages, focusing very hard on keeping his voice steady. 

Somehow, Felix survives the car ride, and by the time they reach Chan’s studio, his pants don’t even feel as tight. He shakes himself, and they set to work on creating a few new songs. Luckily, they already had some half-baked tracks and random pieces of lyrics from their previous sessions, so it isn’t too hard to pull something together. They spend a few hours writing and rewriting, and then after a break for lunch, they spend the next few recording. By the time Chan settles back to edit, and Felix settles back to watch, they’re well into the afternoon.

With little to distract him now that his work is done, Felix can’t ignore the plug as easily, or the gathering of heat in his stomach. He tries lounging on the couch, on the floor; he tries sitting next to Chan to watch him work, but nothing can pull his attention or ease the warm pleasure that spreads across his skin and makes his brain feel slow and gooey.

“I can hear you fidgeting,” Chan says softly. Felix looks up from where he’s lying on the couch and realizes, yes, he’s been shifting around every few seconds without even really noticing it himself. “This was your idea.”

“I know,” Felix says, somewhat hoarsely. For the sake of his own pride, he would like to believe that it’s because he just spent the last few hours singing his heart out. “It just feels so good, and I want—” But he doesn’t even really know what he wants. It’s not like he wants Chan to fuck him, and it’s not like he necessarily needs to get off right now. He just knows he’s restless, and that he wants to be touching Chan. 

“Come here,” Chan says. Felix pulls himself up from the couch, curious, and walks over to stand beside Chan’s chair. “If we take the plug out, it’ll be messy. Are you still interested in letting me fuck your throat?”

He says it so nonchalantly that Felix doesn’t process it at first. “Here?” he asks, dropping his voice to just above a whisper, even though the studios are pretty much completely soundproof.

“If that’s okay with you.” Chan looks up at him. “Go close the blinds and lock the door. If anyone comes by, we’ll just say we were in the middle of recording.”

It’s not like Felix is going to refuse. And Chan’s right—if they’re going to fuck somewhere that isn’t his apartment, this is the next-safest place. If they lock the door, no one’s going to be able to barge in, and if they take a second to answer, no one is going to think twice about that, either. “Yeah, okay,” he says breathlessly, hurrying to lock the door and draw the shades. 

Chan pushes away from the desk to give Felix some room. Felix gets on his knees eagerly, tucking his feet underneath his ass and tilting his chin back. There’s just enough space for him to sit up without hitting his head. 

“You still have a bit to get done, right?” he asks as Chan reaches for the button of his jeans. 

“Yeah,” Chan says, blinking. “At least another hour or so.”

“Okay,” Felix says. “Then I won’t move too much. I’ll just—keep it warm for you so you don’t get too distracted.”

“So dirty, baby.” But the look Chan is giving him is fond. He reaches down and touches his cheek. “Sounds good,” he says softly. 

Felix waits patiently for Chan to undo his jeans. He’s surprised to see that Chan is already half-hard. He must have been noisier earlier than he thought. 

Chan scoots to the edge of his seat so that Felix doesn’t have to put his neck at an awkward angle. Felix opens his mouth, letting his tongue cover his bottom teeth, using the top of it to push his lower lip out. Chan runs one hand through Felix’s hair, making a loose fist to help hold him steady, and uses the other hand to guide his cock into Felix’s mouth. Felix closes his lips around the tip, giving a satisfied little hum. 

“So good for me,” Chan says softly, petting through Felix’s hair a few more times before returning his attention to the music. 

Felix takes more and more of him into his mouth until his gag reflex threatens to ruin everything. It’s one thing to fight it for a few minutes of getting throat-fucked; it’s quite another to try to stay relaxed for the better part of an hour. He can prove himself to Chan later; right now his job is just to sit still and be quiet. He palms himself through his jeans almost absently, just to keep the edge off, and contents himself in swallowing weakly around Chan’s cock and clenching down around the plug. 

He gets messy quickly; it’s hard not to. Drool slips out from between his lips and drips down his chin. He wipes it away, but it hardly helps. It doesn’t deter him, though; he’ll happily drool all over Chan’s cock so long as Chan lets him. There’s something about all of this that makes Felix’s skin turn so hot he worries he might burst into flame. He feels little and slutty, on his knees between Chan’s thighs, plugged up with Chan’s come, pathetically humping his own palm while Chan uses his mouth as a sleeve for his cock. He feels thoroughly used, and he loves it. 

Long minutes pass. Chan is mostly silent, save for a few quiet moans here and there whenever he accidentally shifts in his seat or when Felix hollows his cheeks as he swallows. One of Chan’s hands sneaks back down to Felix’s hair; Felix tilts his head to the side so he can rest his cheek on Chan’s thigh.

It must be a half an hour before Chan starts really reacting. The hand in Felix’s hair tightens until his scalp burns, and all Felix can do is focus on his breath so that he doesn’t choke. 

And then there’s a sharp rapping on the studio door, and he nearly does choke. 

“Oh, shit,” Chan says, releasing Felix and tucking himself back into his pants. Felix scrambles to his feet, smacking the top of his head on the bottom of the desk while he tries to wipe drool off of his chin. He and Chan check each other over, smoothing down their clothes, wide-eyed and silent, and then Chan points Felix towards the door of the actual booth while he goes to the studio door. 

Felix grabs the headset and stands in the threshold, making it look like they got interrupted mid-take as Chan pulls the door open. 

“Minho!” he says, his voice betraying nothing. “Why’re you here today?”

“Finishing some projects. Heard you were in with your new friend, thought I’d drop by and say hi.” Chan steps to the side to reveal a slightly taller man. He seems to be around Chan’s age, though he looks it a little more than Chan does. His features are clean and sharp, almost catlike; there’s a sort of elegance that pairs nicely with his air of cutting intelligence.

“Ah, yes,” Chan says brightly. “Felix, this is Minho, a friend from my college days. He’s the head of the board of directors of a record label, but his background is in producing, so he rents a studio here, too. Minho, Felix. I was wondering when we might run into each other, but Felix is only free on the weekends, and you’re usually not around then, so…” He shrugs. “But I guess today’s the day.”

Felix bows quickly. “It’s nice to meet you,” he says.

“Sorry for interrupting,” Minho adds somewhat belatedly. “It’s good to interrupt this one sometimes, though. He forgets to stop for rest.”

“Well, having Felix around helps,” Chan says with a grin. “I’m always worried about overworking him, so I end up taking better care of myself in the process.”

“I see. I like your work, by the way. You have a very unique voice,” Minho says with a smile, nodding at Felix.. “Anyway, I won’t keep you. I’m sure we’ll see each other around again.”

“Thank you,” Felix stammers.

“You still owe me dinner,” Minho adds, pointing an accusing finger at Chan. “See you two around!”

And with a wave, he’s gone. 

Chan shuts the door firmly, locking it again and turns to look at Felix. They stare at each other for a couple of seconds, and then they both burst out laughing. 

“Oh my god,” Chan says. “The one day we decide to—the one time we misbehave—it’s not funny, it could’ve been so bad—”

“It so is funny,” Felix chokes out through his laughter. “It’s fine. He didn’t suspect a thing.” He sets the headphones down and skips over to Chan, kissing him on the cheek. “But maybe we should pack up and head back to yours before we try anything else.”

Chan laughs weakly. “Yeah, that would probably be for the best. Let me just get to a good stopping place, okay?”

It only takes another half an hour before Chan calls it quits and Felix finds himself back in the car. He doesn’t try to stifle his noises this time around—they’re going home to fuck, after all—and by the time they get back, he’s leaking precome in his underwear.

They waste no time once they’re inside; Chan pulls Felix to his room so they both have a soft place to sit. Felix settles onto his knees, though he doesn’t sit back this time. Chan grabs his hair with both hands this time, leading him down onto his cock, waiting for him to take him as deep as he can (which, Felix notes proudly, is nearly all the way down) before rocking his hips forward experimentally.

When it’s clear Felix can take it, Chan gets bolder, rougher. Felix drools spit, and eventually the treatment brings tears to his eyes, but he doesn’t gag, doesn’t complain, just keeps his wide eyes on Chan’s, blinking prettily, even when the tip of Chan’s cock hits the back of his throat, even when he gets dizzy. 

“Close,” Chan hisses out. “You okay to swallow?”

Felix nods as vigorously as he can, trembling. He’s long forgotten his own pleasure, too focused on Chan; he can take it if it’s what Chan wants. Chan comes with a sweet, low moan, and Felix doesn’t even cough, pulling off slowly as Chan’s breathing slows.

Chan blinks his eyes open, giving Felix a lazy grin. He holds out a hand to help Felix to his feet, then immediately pulls him into his lap. “Now you, angel,” he murmurs into Felix’s skin. “A reward for being perfect.”

Pure joy sings through Felix’s whole body, electrifying and sugary sweet. 

[ivy-loves-chocolate]

Note: one of the commissions requested by my dear @cassietodd. Ty for commissioning me and I hope you like it 💖

Word count: 1k

Pair: Albert Wesker x F!Reader

Summary: Wesker is basically the reader's sugar daddy and she asks him to buy her a tiny house.

Commission: if you're interested in commissioning me, please check this post for more info and this post for the character list. Thank you :3

Wesker was holding Y/N’s hands in his, moving his fingers across her soft skin while admiring her delicate fingers decorated with rings. She wore three, but one of them stand out. It was a promise that their love will be eternal. He has a busy schedule so he tries to enjoy every second he gets with her. From small gestures, like hugging or cuddling, to more intimate ones, Wesker makes sure to live every moment and also to give Y/N his full attention. He ignores every call, every message, every mail, his phone is thrown somewhere in the house and forgotten until the next day.

“I’ve missed you so much, darling.” He said while kissing her hands. He holds them like something fragile. He is aware of his power and the last thing he wants is to hurt her.

“I missed you too, Albert.” She wants to spend so much time with him. His presence is more valuable than the things he bought for her. He knows that buying her kinds of stuff to compensate will stop working eventually, so he keeps promising her that once he is done with his project they’ll recover the time lost, together in each other arms, in the new world he had promised her.

She grabbed his cheeks and started to place small kisses over his face. Small, gentle kisses that make his knees melt but sadden him at the same time because he knows he’ll have to leave again.

“How long until you finish?” She said between kisses.

“It will be finished soon” he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her closer to him. She was laying on his chest, with his arms wrapped around her body holding her tight, while he made himself comfortable on the couch.

They usually sit like this until one of them falls asleep. It’s usually Albert who goes first.

“Can I ask you something?” She said, breaking the silence. His hand stopped massaging her scalp.

“What is it?”

“There’s something I always wanted. Well, recently.”

“Tell me.” He started to get worried. Even if he’s not present, he usually guesses what she wants before she gets to tell him.

“I want a tiny house. Not the studio type, but a small house with at least 2 rooms and utilities somewhere far away from the city.”

It was an unusual request. She normally asks for clothes, jewelry, cars sometimes, but not property. His head starts falling with paranoia and he thinks that she got enough and wants to leave him. “Far away from the city”… from him too?

He remained silent for a few minutes, the room filling with tension from both sides.

“Why would you want a tiny house.” She raised her body so he can watch him in the eyes.

“For us. When I’m with you I feel like you’re still thinking about your work. Besides, we live right next to the facility and your office is downstairs. It’s not healthy for you, so I was thinking maybe we can get away from this and stay in a more isolated place. Just the two of us.”

He sighed in relief. She was so carrying with him, despite him being 10 times stronger than her. The fact that she was nurturing him made him fall in love with her. He didn’t realize how much he needed affection until he met Y/N.

“You’re so sweet my love. I’ll see what I can do.” He kissed her forehead and they went back to cuddling in silence.

The next day Wesker start making the preparations. Sadly, he didn’t have time to personally go with you, so he put Excella in charge to go with you to visit different houses and lands. Still, he had his eyes on his phone in case you needed some advice. If you wanted an already build house it was fine, if you wanted to build one from zero it was fine too. Wesker had his bank accounts ready, all she had to do was to say the word.

She ended buying a house in the countryside, far away from work. Wesker put her name on all papers, so she was the landlord. Once in a few weeks, they make a romantic gateway. The house is small as desired by her, it has a small bedroom and a small living room, along with a kitchen and bathroom, enough for their needs.

With the help of Excella and Wesker (mostly Excella), she decorated the house. On one hand, Wesker was too busy and it took ages until he replied, and on the other, his conception about a lover’s hideout was rather morbid (everything in black, black furniture, black walls, black accessories). Perhaps it’s one of the consequences of working in such a grim place that involves corpses and experimenting on people.

Y/N chose a minimalist design for their home, so they won’t feel suffocated (it’s a tiny space after all) and you can always make changes around because of the free space. The color pallet chosen is a basic one, white with light gray and cream. There were also some flowers by the windows, a small balcony and a small garden with a table, some chairs and a grill.

“Come on darling,” she said while dragging Wesker to the house. He wasn’t in the mood to visit, but she had been pleading for so long that he didn’t have a choice. The house was ready in a short time, but she didn’t want to live there yet because he wanted to do it with Albert first.

“You’re gonna love it!” She said enthusiastically while unlocking the door.

Surpassingly Wesker loved it. Even if it was small it felt like there was a lot of space. He also loved the smell of new furniture. Wesker saw some of the stuff around in pictures Y/N sent to him. They didn’t look great, but in their place, they were a lot better.

Everything was clean and put in place, just how he likes it. He is a bit of a clean freak.

“So? Do you like it?” She asked.

“Yeah, I can see myself coming here a lot often.” It was small, intimate, and most importantly, far away from work. Now he can enjoy some quality time with Y/N. Perhaps this will last long enough to be their special place for the new world.

[calwrites]

Star Star Tours

Summary: You and Sebastian have been dating for a while now, but the public doesn’t know that yet. Keeping your secret causes some tension on James Corden’s Star Star Tours.

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x actress!reader

This is my first time writing for Marvel, so I hope people enjoy! It’s just something that I wrote really quick, but I love the bus tour video, and I thought this could be a cute story. Also, Sebastian was not in nearly enough of the disposable camera pictures.

It was no secret that press tours could be draining. Being stuck in a room for multiple days while people keep asking you the same questions over and over again even though they know that you can’t really answer them. And considering how big Infinity War is, it was no surprise that there were even more interviews than usual.

That was why you had been so excited when you had heard about James Corden’s bus tour. Getting to spend the day outside, surrounded by some of your costars, sounded like a vacation compared to being stuck in a chair all day. There was no doubt in your mind that it would be chaos. Of course, you would do you best to add to that chaos.

Still, as you glanced over at your boyfriend, you thought that maybe press tours weren’t all that bad. You and Sebastian had met while filming Civil War, but you hadn’t really talked much. Sebastian was pretty quiet, and you had worried that he found your loudness annoying, so you had focused on befriending your costars who seemed more receptive to your large personality.

It wasn’t until the press tour that you actually got to know Sebastian. You weren’t sure if you had been partnered with Sebastian and Anthony because someone thought Anthony might ease your nerves about your first Marvel press tour or if they hoped being stuck with two people as outgoing as you and Anthony might force Sebastian out of his shell. Either way, the three of you had been a hit that press tour. More importantly, Sebastian had asked you out shortly after Civil War premiered.

The two of you had been dating ever since. It had made interviews a bit difficult for both of you though. You had decided to keep your relationship private. In theory, you were going to go public after a few months, but the two of you had enjoyed having a part of your lives that was actually private. It was a surprise that no one had let it slip, considering both Tom Holland and Mark Ruffalo knew about the relationship. Still, it was hard ignoring dating rumors every time someone thought you must be with whatever costar you had smiled at that week.

“What are you thinking about?” Sebastian asked, glancing at you before looking back the road. He took one hand off the wheel and grabbed your hand, entwining your fingers.

“Nothing.” You knew that Sebastian wouldn’t buy it. Not when he had seen your goofy grin.

“Nothing? Wanna try again?”

“What if we went to the premiere together?” You kept your eyes on your hand, still entwined with Sebastian’s.

“Like together together?” Sebastian took his hand back so he could turn into the parking lot of the studio. You tried not to notice the slight frown that he wore as he thought about your idea.

“We don’t have to. It’s just that it’s been almost two years. I thought it could be a good time. Maybe everyone will be so focused on the movie that we wouldn’t be big news.” Sebastian didn’t answer as he parked. You could already see a producer rushing over to the car, no doubt to get your ready for the tour. “You don’t have to answer now. Let’s just enjoy the tour and we can talk about it later.”

Sebastian nodded in agreement and the two of you climbed out of the car and made your way over towards the bus.

After you got your mic and everything, you climbed up to the top of the bus, where James gave you a name tag after doing a little bit. Immediately, you rushed to the front row and took the seat next to Lizzie. The two of you had clicked immediately while filming Civil War, and she had been one of your best friends ever since. 

You noticed that Sebastian waited for a few more people to get on before he climbed on and took a seat at the back next to Winston. You tried not to read too much into the fact that he was sitting as far away from you as possible. It was possible, probable even, that he was keeping his distance just so neither of you slipped up on camera. It was a tactic you used quite often. But it was also possible that you had freaked him out when you proposed going public and now he was going to avoid you.

Shaking off the doubts in your head, you picked up the disposable camera that you had been given and started snapping pictures as everyone settled in. To your relief, Sebastian gave you a smile and a small wave when you pointed the camera at Paul and Letitia, catching him in the background. Before it could descend into total chaos, the bus began moving and the tour started.

You and Lizzie almost died laughing when Benedict had to put sunscreen on James’s legs, but he had a point. “Does anyone need face sunscreen?” you asked, waving the bottle of face sunscreen that you had thrown in your purse at the last minute. Very pointedly, you turned to Benedict and Hiddleston. “I’m looking at you two.”

“We get it, Y/N,” Anthony yelled from the back. “You’re a mom friend.” You stuck your tongue out in reply, mainly because flipping him off didn’t seem very TV friendly. Nevertheless, your sunscreen got passed around the bus. Paul tried to give it back to you without putting any on, claiming that he didn’t need any, which resulted in you and Lizzie basically wrestling him and putting it on his face yourselves. The laugh died in your throat as you began turning back to the front and caught sight of Sebastian’s grumpy face. You raised your eyebrows, but he looked away.

“What’s up with him?” Lizzie asked quietly. Apparently she had seen his expression too. You could only hope that no camera had caught it.

“Tell you later.” You tapped slightly on your mic and Lizzie nodded.

Luckily James began the tour before you could dwell on it any more. Between Don’s exaggerated pose when he took a picture of the coffee shop, getting into trouble with James for being “disruptive,” and the singalong, which you got way too into, you had almost forgotten about Sebastian’s stormy expression.

“This is actually Barbara Streisand’s holiday home,” James said, pointing at some strange, red building. “She actually designed it herself.”

“Is that true, Josh?” you called, spinning around so you could face him.

Josh shook his head. “Absolutely not.”

“Well what do you know? You’re just the bad guy. You’re just trying to cause trouble,” James complained.

“She’s his stepmom, so I think I trust him a bit more than you, James. Sorry.” You shrugged innocently at him before turning back around the air high five Josh. Again, as you were turning back to the front, you caught Sebastian’s eye. He was basically glaring at you.

“What?” you mouthed at him, which of course everyone behind you saw, causing them to turn to look at Sebastian too.

“Y/N, I am trying to give a tour, and you are being disruptive once again. I need eyes up front please.”

“But James,” you whined, huffing in your seat like a little kid, “Sebastian keeps looking at me. Tell him to stop.”

“Sebastian, I need all eyes on me, please. I am the reason you all paid to be here-”

“We have to pay for this?” Hiddleston asked, but James continued as if he hadn’t said anything.

“-so I need you to stop looking at Y/N and pay attention to me.”

“I didn’t even look at her. What am I not allowed to look around now?” Sebastian answered a bit too hotly. There was a brief moment where you could feel everyone look between the two of you, even James and Reggie, who had no idea why it was so strange that Sebastian had snapped like that.

“Geez, Mackie, control your man,” you joked, trying desperately to diffuse the tension.

“No way. Sebastian is not my man. He’s sitting with Winston, so he’s Winston’s problem today,” Mackie yelled back. Luckily, this caused Winston and Anthony to start bickering about who had to take care of Sebastian during the tour. Sebastian, of course, hated the attention and eventually agreed to behave and even gave you a very child-like “Sorry, Y/N.” You stuck your tongue out in response and turned back to give James your full attention.

You all continued the act of disconnected celebrities as James explained what waiting in line was. Hoping to get a better view of the “normal people,” you tried to stand on your chair like you were ogling some animal at the zoo, but almost immediately at least five different people were yelling at you to get down. Apparently it “wasn’t safe” to stand on top of chairs on top of a moving bus.

“Excuse me. I don’t mean to interrupt, but I have to use the bathroom. Can I use the bathroom?” You didn’t turn around this time, worried about seeing Sebastian staring at you again. Instead, you focused on the faux apologetic look on James’s face.

“I’m really sorry. The problem is that the rules on the tour is that you have to have appeared in three or more Marvel movies to use the bathroom. End credits scenes don’t count. Y/N, do you have to use the bathroom?”

“I haven’t been in three movies,” you pointed out.

“That’s right, you haven’t. So I hope you don’t have to use the bathroom. Tom Hiddleston, do you need to use the bathroom?”

“I’m actually okay.”

“Oh, so sorry Y/N. Sorry Josh. Maybe you should ask your stepmom Barbra Streisand if you can use the bathroom at her holiday home.”

“I don’t even have to go,” you protested as Lizzie died laughing next to you.

“Well that’s good because you can’t. Now, does anyone die in the next Avengers?”

The bus was quiet as you all looked at each other. Finally, Paul yelled, “Snitches end up in ditches!”

“I thought they got stitches first,” you whispered to Lizzie.

“Apparently Paul is skipping that part,” she replied. The two of you gave each other a look before dissolving into giggles at the thought of Paul actually throwing someone in a ditch.

The tour continued with more of James’s jokes before he had the bus pull over at a comic shop. A part of you was nervous to go inside. While most of the fans that you had met were nice, you knew that there were still a lot of comic fans who didn’t like your character, or how you played your character, or that you had been cast, or whatever. You gave Lizzie’s hand a nervous squeeze, which she returned, but really you wanted to be holding Sebastian’s hand. You were each other’s biggest supporter. Whenever one of you was feeling nervous, the other was normally right there to offer support.

But instead, you walked in separately.

Luckily, everyone seemed too starstruck to gripe about anything. It ended up being a pretty nice time. You signed some comics and chatted to some fans. One girl even told you about a tattoo dedicated to your character that she was going to get. You almost had a heart attack when she asked you to write down her favorite line of yours, so that she could add that to the tattoo. Afterwards, Mackie had teased you about how much your hand was shaking when you were writing it. It looked like Sebastian was about to say something, but then a camera was suddenly in your face and he disappeared to the other side of the store.

After buying a couple of comics for yourself, you and Lizzie found yourselves in the corner of the store playing with a Scarlet Witch doll that you had bought for her. You didn’t notice when she looked up with a small frown on her face, but you did feel the hand that came to rest on your waist. You looked around quickly, making sure that no cameras were on you, before meeting Sebastian’s eyes.

“What are you doing, Seb?” you whispered. Without you realizing, Lizzie snuck away to give the two of you some privacy. Or as much privacy as you can get when you’re wearing a mic and possibly being filmed.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry about earlier. I guess I just got kind of jealous and I snapped a little.”

“Jealous?” You put your hand on Sebastian’s arm to keep him in place when you felt him begin to back away. “Jealous about what, Sebastian?”

“I don’t know.” He waved his hand around a bit at the rest of the group. “Just seeing your hands all over Paul and joking around with everyone around you.”

“Lizzie and I were forcibly putting sunscreen on Paul. I did that to you before we left the house this morning. I don’t think you have anything to be jealous about.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him.

“Sometimes it just feels like you always have everyone’s attention and you’re joking around with all of them and you never pay attention to me.” You pressed your lips together to keep from laughing at the adorable pout on Sebastian’s face. “And I know that we kind of have to ignore each other sometimes because we don’t want people to know about us, but I just always wish that I could be joking around with you too. I have so much fun talking to you and being around you, and seeing other people having fun around you when I can’t is just annoying sometimes. It’s like I always want to be right next to you.”

You placed a gentle hand on Sebastian’s cheek, making him meet your eyes. “I always want to be next to you too. And most of the time when I’m joking around with other people, I’m wishing that you were there too. But right now, we should get back to the others. It’ll be a miracle if we haven’t been caught on camera.”

“Oh I asked Anthony to make sure that no one would be paying attention to this side of the store.”

“Is that why he’s been yelling for the past few minutes?”

“He’s the best choice for a distraction, unfortunately.” You grinned at Sebastian as you wrapped your arms around him. Smiling back, he planted a quick kiss on your forehead.

“That’s way too bold,” you scolded him. Still, you couldn’t help but laugh. “There’s no way we would be able to explain that away if anyone saw. Way too many questions.”

You began to walk away, but Sebastian pulled you back to him. “Let them ask questions. The premiere is soon and they’ll have their answers then.”

“Oh they will?” You raised your eyebrows in mock confusion.

“Of course. When we go together. How does that sound?”

“Sounds like a date.” The two of you smiled at each other and were about to lean in for a kiss when Anthony was suddenly pulling Sebastian away.

“Break it up, lovebirds. I thought I was providing a distraction so you two could make up, not so you could make out. Now come on, Sebastian. We need to take a picture with that Spiderman statue outside.” 

Sebastian gave you a shrug as Anthony dragged him outside. You rolled your eyes at their antics, then followed the rest of the cast as they began to make their way outside and back to the bus. You had stopped to admire Benedict’s drawing skills when Lizzie was suddenly clutching your arm and squealing. She, of course, had seen everything, though she assured you that everyone had tried their best to be as entertaining as possible on the other side of the store, so that no cameras would be on you.

You wore a smile for the rest of the tour. Lizzie kept teasing you every time you and Sebastian would sneak glances at each other. Not that you could really sneak glances when you had to turn around constantly to look at him. Once again, you got way too into the singalong. This time, Sebastian yelled encouragement at you as you sang off key.

By the time you reached the studio again, you had decided that this was really the best way to do a press tour. You waved goodbye to James and Hemsworth and you climbed off the bus. Before you could take more than a few steps, Sebastian had picked you up and was spinning you around.

“How have you two not spilled the beans yet?” Paul asked as everyone watched in amusement.

“You weren’t even being subtle at the comic shop,” Benedict pointed out.

“Y’all are lucky that the cameras love me so much that they weren’t looking at you,” Mackie joked.

Apparently, the cameras didn’t love Mackie as much as he thought. When the video came out, some eagle eyed fans spotted the two of you looking cozy in the background of a shot. Some people argued that it was impossible to say for certain that it was you and Sebastian, but your Twitter and Instagram notifications were full of people asking if you and Sebastian were dating.

The two of you decided to ignore the questions. Lucky for you, Marvel made it very clear to all of the interviewers that there should be no questions about anyone’s personal lives. All focus was to be on the movie. So you kept the fans guessing until the two of you showed up to the premiere arm in arm.

Unfortunately, there were plenty of people more focused on your relationship than on the movie, so there were plenty of articles about the two of you. Apparently, you were Marvel’s new power couple. As long as you had Sebastian, that was a title you could live with.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

a year in the life | rockstar! s.s.

pairing: rockstar!sebastian stan x writer!reader

main work: i wanna know what love is

season: autumn 🍁

a/n: in celebration of 4 major works of mine turning one this year (my babies, cannot believe it’s been a year) and based on the reboot of gilmore girls, i will be revisiting my works per season. we are starting with autumn and rockstar!seb. hope you enjoy xx

Y/N laid on the big chez lounge couch in the middle of her living room, surrounded by her children’s toys, with a large bowl of Doritos on her lap as the Real Housewives played on the background. For the very first time since forever, she was alone at home; Jess and Marion were at their respective schools while Sebastian was busy in the studio, doing some rearrangements to a new album. She loved the three of them more than anything but she knew that she would’ve never had the chance to eat Doritos without Sebastian complaining it was unhealthy for her or her children trying to take a bite. Lately, all she wants is to lay low, bask in her leave from work and watch some trashy TV. 

As her eyes were getting heavier and heavier with sleep when the front door opened, sending her back into alert mood. Luckily, it wasn’t no one trying to break in but her husband who still couldn’t open doors without making a big ruckus about it. 

     - I’m sorry, bunny. -  he stepped back as he recognised his wife’s sleepy face. - I thought you’d be in the bedroom. 

     - Can’t move. - she pointed at her bulging bump covered by one of his old jumpers which seemed to be the only thing that fully covered her at this particular stage. Sebastian chuckled, walking over to her to quickly kiss her, hand caressing her bump through the jumper. - Didn’t expect you to be home so early.

      - I can see. - he pointed at the bowl of Doritos on her lap. - You’re supposed to be the prudent one. 

    - I’m carrying your offspring. It makes me make bad decisions. - she teased, cuddling against him as he sat by her side, worn out slightly loose black leather jacket still on. - How are the boys?

    - Fighting about who gets to be godfather this time.

    - Did you tell them my brother is gonna be the godfather?

    - Now, where would the fun be in that, bunny? - he smirked, with that boyish like looks he still managed to remain after all these years. 

    - Stop it. - she leaned towards him to kiss him. 

    - How are you feeling today? - his hand mindlessly rubbed her bump, feeling the little moves of the baby whenever the baby moved. - Little one is a bit feisty today.

    - It’s been like this all of last night. I think I might be closer to labour than we think.

    - Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve driven the kids to school, honey love. 

    - You needed to sleep. - she groaned as she stretched her legs. - Besides, Marion is staying with your mum today so I wanted to spend some time with her before she went. 

    - No kids tonight? - he leaned over to kiss her collarbone. - How long has it been?

    - As long as I’ve been pregnant. - she pushed him away playfully. - Jess is not going. 

    - Why not? Jess loves my mum. Is he sick? Urgh, is the flu going around his class again? We need to put him into a better school, those kids at his school are always s...

    - Seb, stop. - she rolled her eyes, smiling at the same time at how he’d gone from let it be to constant rambling about his children’s wellbeing. - He just wants to be home tonight and he’s been a little sad lately. 

    - You’re sure he’s not sick? Because there’s this private school which tests kids for all those flu things.

    - He’s not sick. He’s just got ... a bit of a lovebug. He got like this when I was last pregnant with Marion. 

    - Well, at least he hasn’t decided that the baby is just not coming. - Sebastian referred to Marion. Their daughter had just decided there was no baby coming around, even after being offered her own bedroom with her own bathroom, just for herself. - I’ll go pick him up, make it a whole thing. Maybe even pass by Al’s ... get you that pasta you really like. 

    - You’re just trying to make me forget that you’re the reason we’re moving houses. 

   - Y/N, this house has always been too small.

   - That’s because you need a whole room for your guitars alone. 

She’d spend the best part of her initial married years trying to convince Sebastian to either get a storage unit to put all his guitars in or to just merge it with his office yet, he’d always come back with an excuse. “Honey love, they need to be displayed”, “Bunny I would just get distracted if they were in my office” he would tell her with his rockstar like charm which she thought was strong enough to resist, yet how can she say no when he immediately shifts from boyish smile to having her pressed against the wall of that very same room, pounding into her as if he was an up and coming rockstar and her his favourite groupie. With the need for that bedroom, their once spacious apartment they bought when she was pregnant with Jess was becoming too small. Normally Y/N would be okay with it but being 8 months pregnant during the fall where it constantly rains in New York, moving seemed like the last thing she’d like to do and just thinking about it made her tired already. After all, she could barely walk to the kitchen without feeling tired or taking a short break in the middle of the path. She thought that after two pregnancies, the third one would be a walk in the park. Turns out it’s more like a run in the park, except the park is on fire and she’s barefoot. 

   - Honey love, asking me to get rid of my guitars is like asking you to get rid of your five copies of Emma.

   - They’re in different languages. - she argued back.

   - They’re different models, besides, we can finally have a guest bedroom. You always wanted a guest bedroom.

   - Sure then maybe my grandfather will come visit more often. How about that? - Sebastian chuckled at her answer. - I’m not joking. You get me pregnant, you get to be annoyed by my grandfather. 

   - You’re acting like this is my fault when you were the one who wore fishnets with a leather skirt. I’m only human. 

   - Fine, 10% my fault, 90% you fault. That’s my final offer.

   - You sure? 

   - Yes. You see, you are a sex maniac who cannot be controlled. 

   - That’s not what you wrote about me. - he smirked. - You said I had more soul than just a sex pot. 

   - Do not quote my own words at me.

   -  You bought my old guitar.

   - Urgh ... - she rolled her eyes. Sebastian grinned, happy he’d won the debate. - Just go make the other mums jealous please.

   - Look at you, using me for my sex appeal only.

   - No. I just really enjoy being the powerful mum. 

   - Yeah? What’s that like?

   - Constant questions about if we do weird sex blood rituals. Then mysterious answers, so they all fear you and don’t force you to attend PTA meetings on date nights. 

   - I gotta say, bunny ... we got this parenting thing covered. 

   - We do.

   - When I come back, you better not have a bowl of Doritos on your belly.

   - I’ll do whatever I want.

   - Sure, bunny, if you walk to the kitchen by yourself ...

   - Low move, Stan. Low.

   - You love me. - he chuckled, grabbing his keys from the trinket dish by the entry door. - See you soon, bunny.

   - Love you. - she scrunched her face in a little smile which he couldn’t help but smile back.

Sebastian liked to pick up Marion and Jess from school. His schedule normally meant Y/N, who had a more 9-5 job, was the one who’d do the drop offs and collections so he’d always meet them at home but whenever he could pick them up, he’d be the first one there. He just loved to see his two babies come out of school in their little uniforms which he incredibly hated when they first enrolled but now couldn’t help but find incredibly adorable. He also loved to see how both his children came out of school. Marion would be the one who’d take the longest, surrounded by all her friends and probably nursing a scrape or two on her knee as if kindergarten 2-3 year old was a big fighting ground while Jess would come out as quickly as he could. 

He parked slightly in front of his son’s school, coming out of the car and leaning against it. The parents’ eyes were immediately on him, maybe it was due to the star power or, most likely, it was because he was wearing a leather jacket, dark shades and his neck tattoo could be seen peaking out the collar of his jacket. His shoes crinkled the fallen leaves on the floor, avoiding those looks as he waited for his son. He knew who he was and he was not going to change it because he became a father, he is a good father, he knows that. The bell rang and a swarm of children came rushing out of the school, and they say birth rates are low. He took his sunglasses off, trying to pin point his son in the middle of all different aged children. 

   -  DAD! - he turned his head to the memorable voice, crutching down as he son rushed to him. Jess wrapped his arms around his father, little childish giggles as Sebastian pulled him off the floor.

   - Hey, buddy. How was school?

   - We did hand turkeys.

   - Hand turkeys? No way, that’s so cool. - he opened up the car’s passenger’s seat, sticking around to check if he fastened his seatbelt correctly before taking the driver’s seat. - It’s just gonna be us three today, bud. You, me and mummy. We getting Al’s and some ice cream. 

   - Why didn’t mummy come?

   - Mummy is very tired, buddy. The baby is kicking a lot, won’t let the baby sleep.

   - Oh ...  - Sebastian saw his son’s face grow sadder.

   - What do you want from Al’s, bud? You can get whatever you want.

   - Really?

   - Yeah.

The little restaurant had soon become a staple in their family life. Sebastian had. discovered by accident after accidentally burning dinner for Y/N’s. He wasn’t already too popular with Y/N’s family so he knew he had to fix it and there it was, the small little restaurant filled with delicious food. Now, it was just a Friday night tradition yet today was special, almost nostalgic to when Y/N, Sebastian and Jess had their first home. Back when Y/N and him were new parents and would trip on every toy in the apartment. God, those were the days. 

  - Dad? - Jess pulled at his sleeve while the two were waiting in the queue. 

  - Yeah, bud? - Sebastian picked him up, already understanding the signs of whenever he wanted to be held. 

  - I ... The baby’s not coming for a while, right? 

  - Why, Jessie? What did Marion say?

  - She didn’t say anything ... uhm, it’s gonna be three of us now. 

  - Yeah. We’re gonna get a new big place, we can even get a dog or a cat. You always wanted a cat, didn’t you? 

  - But, now I’m third.

  - What do you mean? - Sebastian furrowed his brows at the comment.

  - Well, when Marion was a baby you and mummy were always with her but she’s still a baby and now there’s a new baby, so I’m gonna be third. - Sebastian’s heart broke at that comment. Now it made sense. - And ... you’re not home a lot and mummy is gonna be busy with the baby.

  - Hey, you’re not third. - he rubbed his son’s back, kissing the side of his head, soothing him to the best of his ability. - You want me to be home more?

  - No, daddy ... you like doing music. 

  - Hm ... how about you come to the studio with me when you don’t have school?

  - Really? But you said I’m too little. 

  - Well, you’re gonna be a big brother again, I think it’s time.

  - Really?

  - Yeah. - he smiled him, his smile reflecting back at him. 

  - Faye. 

  - What?

  - We should name the baby Faye. 

  - Faye? You want your baby sister to be named Faye?

  - Yes.

  - Well ... Faye it is.

[mel-the-fangirl]

Toss A Coin to Your Witcher

Henry Cavill x Reader

Words: 2,362

I am so so so nervous to post this because this is my first time writing a Henry fic and I know that the Henry Cavill fandom is such a tightknit family, I hope you guys have room for one more hopeless Henry stan. I know this isn’t even half as good as the other Henry fics out there but I had this idea stuck in my head for a very long time.

Please like and reblog or leave me some replies if I should do a second part! Thank you!

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The makeup brush swept precisely along your cheekbone, covering it in a subtle shimmer. Production staff milled around behind you, testing sound, testing lights. Being an actor, these things were nothing new. 

"Now remember, say it with me," 

"Don't say or do anything stupid." you recited with your long time agent and friend, Marge.

You thanked the makeup artist and made your way to the set. 

"When have I ever said or done anything stupid though?" you asked

Marge looked at you appraisingly before replying, 

"There's always a time for everything. Now go on." 

The vibe on set dialled to a hundred when you stepped on. It was really flattering how they cheered as you plonked your butt down on the wooden chair, a red tarp was set up behind you and the studio lights surrounded the area.

"Ready when you are Y/N!" the producer aka the ring leader of this whole operation flashed you a thumbs up

You nodded, feeling the nervousness bubble up your throat. 

Surprise, surprise. You still got nervous in front of the camera. It wasn't hard to handle though, you took a couple of deep breaths and you were good to go. 

"Hey guys, gals, and non-binary pals! I'm Y/N Y/L/N. I'm here with Buzzfeed and we're gonna be playing Twenty Questions." you winked at the camera with your arms wrapped around the little jar that had your questions in it

 "Let's get started, shall we?" 

Eager to begin, you stuck your hand into the jar without a second thought. 

"I freaking love Buzzfeed, really. Especially Tasty, I mean, I don't cook. But," you shrugged, wiggling your fingers, hearing the tiny bits of folded paper move around in the jar. "I love watching people cook. Then I love eating."

Scattered chuckles broke out through the crew. 

After a few minutes of rustling around, you figured you’d just come clean, "Okay. Small problem." 

You lifted your hand, the jar coming along with it. The pieces of folded paper crowding around your encased wrist as you waved your arm. 

Another round of shocked giggles started up as a couple of assistants rushed to you and tried to yank the jar off. 

"This is too good," the producer chortled, "Mind if we keep this in?"

"Fine by me!" you watched intently as Marge rolled up your sleeve so one assistant could pour oil all over it. Eagle eyed, she watched as a drop of oil landed on the bottom hem of your sweater.

"Great job, Y/N. This sweater was a gift from that designer you met last week, he said he made it just for you." she scolded, taking charge by grabbing the jar with two hands

"It was an accident, Marge. It's not like I planned on getting my hand stuck in a jar today!"

With a tug and a pop, your hand was free and slick with olive oil. Marge landed on her butt on the floor.

"Marge!" you howled with laughter, helping her up

She straightened her blouse, all business but her cheeks were stained red with embarrassment. 

"Can someone help Y/N wash the oil off her hands? Let's get this show on the road, people!" she barked marching orders at the staff, clapping her hands as she went. She wasn't in charge here but no one dared to question her. 

You chuckled, knowing that this was a cute little anecdote you’d be sharing with anyone who was willing to listen.

A few minutes later, you were back in your chair, having a laugh with everyone. The jar incident already stripped away the majority of your anxiety so you were ready to go.

"Okay! First question!" you squinted at the strip of paper, "What is the most expensive thing you’ve stolen from any set you’ve been on?" 

“Well!” you widened your eyes at the camera, “Bold of you all to assume that I’ve ever stolen anything!”

Marge scoffed rather audibly, making everyone raise their eyebrows at you.

“Okay, fine!” you held up your hand. The stunning ring you had on sparkled underneath the lights, nearly blinding anyone who looked.

“I did a period movie a while back and they had these drop dead gorgeous, and I mean gorgeous pieces of jewelry. I wore this piece,” you gazed down at the ring fondly, “for the whole of the film and I just pinched it after we wrapped, I couldn’t part with it, okay? I’m like a fricking magpie, I love shiny things.”

The crew burst into fits of laughter, making you laugh along with them.

“To clarify! This is the replica the props department had made, a very expensive replica. I can see you freaking out, Marge. And no, you don’t have to call the insurance company.”

You were a big hit, to say the least. You had them in stitches every time you opened your mouth but all good things had to come to an end, right?

It didn’t matter how carefully you dipped your hand into the question jar, this next one was going to make things very messy for you. 

"What do you like to do in your free time?" you read out loud, tapping a finger against your chin

"There hasn't been much free time lately,” you chuckled, “Let’s see… I play video games, yeah. I am so obsessed with the Witcher, it's borderline unhealthy. I’ve read all the books and played the games so many times." 

"What do you think of Henry Cavill as Geralt?" the producer asked you

Henry Cavill.

Just hearing that man's name was enough to make the blood rush to your cheeks. You brushed an imaginary hair out of your face. From behind the camera, Marge raised a knowing brow.

"Well," you cleared your throat and sat up straighter

"To be honest, at first I was really skeptical about his casting. I mean, he is way too good looking. Like way. Way. Too good looking. But…"

"But?"

Your mind drifted to the first time you saw a picture of Henry Cavill in full costume. The white hair, the golden cat eyes, the intense gaze and all that leather? It definitely made you feel… Certain things.

You cleared your throat, propping yourself on the table with your arms. To be honest, your head was still in a Henry Cavill haze so you had zero control of what came out of your mouth next.

"I'd definitely toss all my coins to that Witcher. Toss a few other things as well."

Everyone in the room ooh'ed and whistled, delighted by your saucy reply. The ruckus snapped you out of it and your hand immediately flew to your mouth.

“Please tell me I didn’t just say that out loud.”

“You did.” Marge mouthed at you, trying but failing to contain her laughter

"So you enjoyed his performance as Geralt?" the producer pressed on, hoping to get more audience-raking answers

How many times were you going to blush during this interview?

"Oh, well, about that, I haven't really gotten around to actually watching it.” you admitted sheepishly, “But I've seen photos and some clips. Very impressed by what I've seen so far."

"You will watch it though, right?" 

"Oh, absolutely. No way I’d miss out on that! Henry Cavill is an incredibly wonderful, talented actor. I think he’s also a fan of the franchise so I have no doubt that he played Geralt to perfection as with all his other roles." you nodded solemnly, putting a hand to your heart

Everyone in the room with you caught on that you were gushing over the actor, the sly looks they all exchanged with one another were a dead giveaway. Too bad you didn’t notice before you could try and play it cool.

“Alright! I think it’s time for the next question!” you declared, swiftly plucking another question out of the jar

By the time it was all over, you had convinced yourself that your little crush-related blunder wasn’t even a big deal, it would probably just be a little footnote in that video. No biggie.

But, Jesus Christ were you wrong.

The video took a couple of weeks to edit and in that time, you were busier than ever. A movie you had just done was getting a lot of attention, your performance in particular had critics singing your praises. At that point, you were definitely getting noticed a lot more when you stepped out for coffee.

So, the timing was just perfect.

The second the video went live, your phone was going off non stop. Twitter mentions, Instagram tags, and articles. A few notable entries being:

“WATCH: RISING STAR Y/N Y/L/N GUSHES ABOUT HENRY CAVILL IN CHARMING BUZZFEED VIDEO”

“@geraskier-rights: Y/N Y/L/N REALLY SAID SHE’D TOSS ALL HER COINS TO HENRY CAVILL’S GERALT AND WE ALL KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS”

“@geralt-of-vengerberg: Y/N The Fond™ is showing👀👀👀”

Marge sat on your sofa with your phone in hand, absolutely thrilled while reading tweets out loud. You scheduled a panic session with her over lunch once everything blew up.

“Oh my God.” you groaned, massaging your temples. “Marge, what do I do?”

“About what?” she didn’t even bother to look up at you

You plopped yourself down next to her, laying your head in her lap, “All that. It’s everywhere.”

“And? There’s nothing wrong with it, they all think you’re charming and funny. A true Relatable Queen.”

Was it your sanity slipping through your fingers? Or the overpowering embarrassment? You had no idea but whatever it was, it had you laughing until your stomach hurt.

Marge tugged at your hair, “Get it together, bitch. Jeez.”

“What are you so worried about anyway?” she asked, placing your phone on your stomach

You swiped through your emails absentmindedly, “I’m not worried about anything, it’s just that what if…”

You left the words hanging in the air, you might as well have been dangling from a cliff from how much colour drained from your face.

“What if what?” 

Marge shoveled some pasta into her mouth before noticing that you essentially turned into a statue right next to her.

“Y/N!” she shook your arm with a grip you were sure would leave some bruises. “What’s the matter?”

Wordlessly, you passed your phone to her, the comment from a certain verified account displayed prominently on Buzzfeed’s Instagram post of a little snippet from your video, the “I’d toss all my coins to that Witcher” part, naturally.

“@henrycavill: Dear Y/N, how many coins are we talking about here? Let’s talk about my reward.”

It was all Marge could do to not throw your phone across the room. Her eyes went wide, following your every move as you paced back and forth, a thumbnail in your mouth.

“That did not just happen, I did not just see that right now. I didn’t.” you babbled, your heart beating thunderously in your chest

There it went. Your very own ticking time bomb finally went off. Number of casualties? Just one. You.

“Okay. Just calm down, Y/N.” Marge caught you mid-pace, squeezing your arms

“Maybe it was a fan account. Tell me it was a fan account, Marge. Henry Cavill did not just hear me imply what I implied.” you grasped at her hand with your clammy one

“Well if he has a fan account that’s verified and has fourteen point five million followers?”

“Oh god.” you groaned, sinking to the floor and hugging your knees

“Oh, Christ.”

Marge hauled you to your feet and thrust your phone in your hand. She looked you hard in the eye, “Stop your whining and answer him. You’re Y/N fucking Y/L/N, one of the hottest people on the planet, start acting like it.”

You stared at her, eyes wide. Your chest rose and fell rapidly. Marge’s words started to make sense in your mind and adrenaline started surging through your veins. You nodded fervently, psyching yourself up.

“Fuck yeah.” you breathed, clicking ‘Reply’

“@yourinstagram: @henrycavill I know you take orens, crowns, and florens but maybe we should discuss further?”

Before you could even stop yourself (did you even want to?), your fingers already landed on the blue paper plane.

“I did it.” you exhaled, staring as the likes and overly enthusiastic replies started pouring in

“Fuck yeah, you did. Now, come on. Leave your phone. We’re getting drunk.”

More weeks passed and you actually ended up forgetting about that little reply you left Henry Cavill. You were busier than ever. Guestings, endorsement deals, and awards shows left and right. So, when you finally had a couple of days free, you decided you would set up camp on your sofa and finally watch Henry Cavill as Geralt of Rivia.

You even threw on your Superman pyjamas, “What the hell.” you shrugged

If you were going down this road, you might as well do it right. Maybe you would even watch the Man from U.N.C.L.E after or would it be Night Hunter? The decision would have to wait.

You watched, absolutely riveted as the White Wolf battled against the kikimora, his silver sword hacked at the creature with unmatched expertise. You were only a few minutes in but you already knew you’d be stuck on that sofa for hours.

When the kikimora had Geralt pinned underwater with his trusty sword just beyond arm’s reach, you found yourself on the edge of your seat, one of your cushions in a chokehold.

“Come on, come on, come on.” you muttered as Geralt reached for his sword

You wouldn’t find out if he got it or not. A knock on your door literally made you fall off the sofa.

“Fuck!” you exclaimed, your hip was already smarting from the impact

Whoever that asshole was, you swore you were going to give him a piece of your mind. You stomped to your front door just as that idiot started knocking again.

You huffed and threw the door open then your mind immediately went blank.

“I am so sorry. Are you alright? I think I heard you fall?”

Oh yeah. You were definitely falling.

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You can find the second part here!