#but I really felt like saying something after reading those posts

[ireverie]

girls goon too

pairing ↠ stepbro!sunghoon x (f) reader x stepbro!heeseung

genre .. warnings ↠ smut, stepcest, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving) / face fucking, virgin! reader, dubcon

summary ↠ sunghoon can't take it anymore. you just won't stop gooning in your bedroom for all the world to hear, and he's tired of it. he's pretty sure all you do with your spare time is watch porn. heeseung suggests that he just jerks off, but his morals won't let him; until he decides that he can't hold back anymore. he has to shut you up.

wc ↠ 5.3k

a/n ↠ nohyuck version of this fic originally posted on my blog revehae. i am not plagiarizing myself. this is my apology for missing my friday night drabble post. as always, feedback is appreciated!

don’t like it, don’t read.

“she’s doing it again,” sunghoon grumbled, walking into heeseung’s bedroom. only because the door was ajar, though. he knew the sight he’d walk in on if it was completely closed would be worse than what you were surely doing.

heeseung snickered, eyes fixed on his computer. “what’s the occasion? sixth-month gooning anniversary?”

sunghoon scoffed. he didn’t know why you did it. he thought jake was bad, but you were next level. “i thought surely she would give us a break for november.”

“and she did,” heeseung quipped, moving his mouse. “for all of three days.”

that was true. for the very first three days of november, the house had been relatively quiet apart from heeseung’s shouting when he was losing. then, on the fourth day, it was back to hearing your annoyingly perfect fucking moans in the afternoon.

and god forbid your parents would be coming home late. you were relentless on those days, touching yourself to no end. sunghoon couldn’t stand it. he hated minding his business, trying to rest or work or do anything that didn’t require thinking about the sounds you were making as you persistently edged yourself.

but he couldn’t help himself. sometimes, he could hear your moans even when you weren’t there, and that was when he knew he was finally losing what little bit was left of his goddamn mind. 

heeseung, on the other hand, didn’t seem as miffed. sunghoon was certain his brother could hear the noises you were making down the hall, but he was sitting here without a care in the world, typing an email to his professor of all things. which made no sense to sunghoon, considering he knew how much heeseung liked noisy sex.

“okay, i’ll bite,” sunghoon said, crossing his arms. “how in the hell are you okay with this?”

heeseung shrugged, trying and failing to suppress a smirk. he was well aware of the fact that sunghoon always got worked up when it came to you, which was fair. you were the biggest minx this world had ever known. “well, first of all,” heeseung started, snickering again. “there’s a thing called jerking off. i’m sure you’ve heard of it. it’s really popular amongst guys we know.”

sunghoon looked almost scandalized. “i’m not jerking off to my stepsister.”

“then, you’re an idiot,” heeseung retorted. “she’s given us enough material until new years. of the year after next.”

“it’s wrong.”

heeseung rolled his eyes. “you’ve got such a stick up your ass, like a proper princess or something.”

“i’ll beat your ass, hee,” sunghoon warned. 

heeseung threw his hands up. “i’m just saying. i’m not telling you to stick her in a washing machine, bro. but the answer’s obvious. just jerk off. you know you want to.”

sunghoon sighed. had he thought about it? obviously. but he couldn’t shake how wrong it felt, even if you made him perpetually horny. “i want to smack the shit out of you right now, but i haven’t done it yet.”

rather than recoil, heeseung laughed. that asswipe finds humor in everything, sunghoon thought to himself, irritated. “and i commend your patience, man,” heeseung replied. “but it’s only making you more frustrated when you could just bust a nut and be happy.”

sunghoon was thinking about it now. well, he had thought about it countless times, but he had never allowed himself to stoop that low. you were his younger stepsister and it was his responsibility to take care of you. not picture your face as you moaned and imagine how you would feel, tight and sticky and creamy as you wrapped around his…

heeseung broke the silence, musing more so to himself, “maybe we should put her in the washing machine.”

sunghoon’s eyes flickered. “what the hell, man?”

“my bad,” heeseung replied, although he didn’t look very apologetic. “i was just thinking out loud.”

fuck, now sunghoon was picturing that too. your house had one of those washing machines that opened from the top, not the front. too many times had sunghoon seen you struggle to take your clothes out, dangling over the washing machine and nearly falling inside. he would offer to help, every now and then, but he liked watching you climb the washing machine just to get your clothes from the very bottom.

it was much more realistic for you to get stuck in it then the kinds of washing machines in porn. 

heeseung broke the silence again, still thinking. it was his greatest skill and simultaneously his worst habit. “if you’re so against it, why haven’t you just asked her to shut the fuck up then?”

that was a good question. sunghoon wasn’t the kind of guy to shy away from an altercation, not with friends and not with family. he had certainly never shown heeseung any mercy. he loved his brother, but he was annoying as all fuck.

“i see,” heeseung said, smirking. see, annoying. “it’s because you don’t really want her to stop.”

sunghoon sighed. “yeah, fine. i don’t want her to stop. happy?”

heeseung burst out laughing. always laughing, always scheming. he was going to get a stocking full of coal for christmas. “i have an idea.”

“oh, god,” sunghoon groaned.

heeseung finally pressed send on his email and turned around in his desk chair. “hear me out. we should fuck her.”

sunghoon gawked in disbelief. then again, none of heeseung’s ideas were ever truly brilliant. “you’re insane,” he murmured.

“thanks,” heeseung chirped, the insult rolling off his shoulders. “just sleep on it.”

“you know what? sure,” sunghoon replied, walking out of his brother’s room and shutting the door. he didn’t want to hear another word.

he went about his day like everything was normal, going on a walk so that he didn’t have to hear you, eating dinner and watching netflix in the living room to ignore the fact that you existed altogether. and then he went to bed.

sunghoon couldn’t fucking sleep. on it, over it, under it. he couldn’t sleep whatsoever. 

it wasn’t like you were just loudly moaning all day long, that would be absurd. but every now and then, there would be a whimper you’d let slip. sunghoon could tell that you were actually trying to be quiet. but this was one of those nights where your parents wouldn’t be back and you were taking advantage of that. again.

sunghoon decided that he was at his breaking point. the need for you was too goddamn strong and he was tired of pretending that he was better. he couldn’t ignore it anymore. he couldn’t fight it, suppress it.

he threw the blankets off his bed and went to heeseung’s room, the door closed this time. he knocked on the door and called out, “stop jerking off and get your ass out here.”

sunghoon heard a groan, one of the disgruntled sort. a few seconds later, heeseung opened the door, a scowl on his face. “what the hell, man? your voice ruined my nut.”

it was sunghoon’s turn to laugh. he clasped a hand on heeseung’s shoulder. “don’t worry. you’ll be in the mood again in no time.”

heeseung lifted a brow. “are you saying what i think you’re saying?”

sunghoon nodded. 

“we’re gonna teach her a lesson.”

“we’re gonna put her in the washing machine?”

sunghoon’s smile instantly dropped and his hand fell from heeseung’s shoulder. “why the fuck are you both so addicted to porn?” he asked.

the excited shimmer in heeseung’s eyes died a little. “no, i was… i was just kidding. let’s go.”

sunghoon sighed and started down the hall to your bedroom, deciding not to argue heeseung on that. it would be a waste of valuable time.

sunghoon knocked on the door and called out your name. “can we come in?”

there was audible shuffling as you called back, “just a moment!”

heeseung glanced over at sunghoon. “so, how we doing this?”

sunghoon looked calm, collected. as if fucking his stepsister was something he did on the regular. “just follow my lead.”

you opened the door, a towel thrown around you. but your skin looked damp with sweat, not water. your face was a little flushed. it was obvious that you were naked. “um, can i help you guys?” you asked, somewhat breathless. 

sunghoon looked you up and down subtly. heeseung, on the other hand, was damn near ogling you. the former repeated, “can we come in?”

“um, i guess,” you murmured, stepping out of the way so that they could enter your bedroom.

heeseung closed the door behind himself, not that there was anyone to worry about. it was only the three of you in the house at the moment. 

sunghoon glanced away, looking for traces of what you had been doing. he found them very quickly; your laptop shut on your bed, the blankets messily thrown on top to conceal the damp spots in your sheets, and your shirt and shorts on the floor by your bed, implying you were only in your underwear.

“is there something you guys need?” you asked, a bit annoyed at having been interrupted. 

sunghoon walked towards your desk where your laptop probably should have been, though he saw something fearful flash in your eyes. his brows furrowed, but he didn’t inquire about it. he would figure it out on his own. “do we have to need something to want to visit you?” sunghoon asked, a small smile on his face. “i haven’t seen you all day long. we just wanted to make sure you’re still alive.”

“oh, that’s… very sweet of you,” you murmured. “as you can see, i’m perfectly alive and breathing.”

“yeah, you’re breathing a lot,” heeseung commented. 

sunghoon chuckled. he moved away from your desk and instead towards your nightstand, noticing your eyes still watching him like a hawk. “relax. what’s got you so worked up?”

“i’m not worked up,” you lied, eyes darting between him and your bed. 

that was when it clicked in sunghoon’s brain. the bed. you didn’t want him to see the bed. he chuckled again, sitting down on top of it. “are you okay? you look a little… flushed.”

“yeah,” heeseung chimed in, moving your hair out of your face. you jolted. you had been paying so much attention to sunghoon that you failed to notice heeseung had creeped up behind you. “and sweaty.”

you released a shaky breath. you were nervous, but you couldn’t tell them that. because then they would start asking questions. “i’m okay, guys. you can go.”

“why are you trying to get rid of us?” heeseung asked, leaning in a little too close. “it’s almost like you’re hiding something.”

“what are you watching?” sunghoon asked, grabbing your laptop. 

your eyes widened in horror. “no, wait!” you exclaimed. you tried to stop him, but heeseung was quick to pull you back against his chest. 

sunghoon opened your laptop, being met with a twitter porn browser. he feigned surprise. “oh, wow,” he said, merely blinking. “wow.”

“what is it?” heeseung called from the other side of the room. 

sunghoon turned the laptop to face you and heeseung. “guess she’s really into… creampies, sucking dick, and doggy style.”

your face was hot with embarrassment and you thrashed in heeseung’s arms. “this is an invasion of privacy! you guys jerk off, don’t you?”

“jerk off? sure. watch porn for hours on end? no, i don’t,” sunghoon answered, setting your laptop down. he moved your blankets out of the way, revealing a few damp spots on your bed. “how long did you have to sit here for this to happen?”

you felt very exposed at the moment. like your deepest, darkest secret was steadily reaching its way around the whole world. “i’m not that bad,” you murmured, shy. 

heeseung laughed. he tugged at the towel and brought his hand to your chest, pinching your nipple. “not that bad? you almost gave poor sunghoon over there an aneurysm with how enticing you’ve been.”

your whined when heeseung squeezed your chest, tearing your gaze away from sunghoon to look up at him with wide eyes. “what are you doing?”

“fuck. yeah, that’s what i’m talking about, princess,” heeseung groaned, pressing himself against your ass. “those sweet sounds have been driving him mad.”

any other moment, sunghoon would have narrowed his eyes at heeseung and called him disgusting. but this was different. sunghoon didn’t care about what was right or wrong anymore. maybe he never truly had. what was certain right now was that any desire to behave in a morally acceptable manner was outweighed by the desire to fuck you brainless.

“bring her over here,” sunghoon said, shoving your laptop of the way to make room. 

heeseung grabbed your waist and led you towards the bed, pushing you towards his brother. sunghoon grabbed your chin, smoothing his thumb over your cheek. “gooning isn’t healthy,” he told you straightforwardly. “you know what you need?”

you glanced at him, fretful. the towel had completely fallen at this point, leaving you solely in your water, just as sunghoon had pieced together. “what?” you whispered.

“a fuck,” sunghoon replied unabashedly. “you’re so damn touch-starved. always complaining about how you want a boyfriend, but you never go out, because you’re too busy playing with your clit.”

your face was hot. honestly, they hadn’t given you the opportunity to cool down. but you had to admit that he was right. compared to how much you touched yourself, you didn’t go out enough.

“have you ever even had sex?” heeseung asked, running his hands up your thighs. 

you wanted to hide so fucking bad, but that clearly wasn’t an option. “no,” you replied, ashamed.

sunghoon snickered, because apparently that was funny. “obviously,” he said, moving his thumb to your bottom lip. “this pretty body has gone untouched for too many years, that’s all. once you get fucked, you’ll be as good as new. worked for jake. didn’t it, hee?”

“yep,” heeseung chirped, nodding. “he was the biggest gooner i’ve ever seen. jay had so many roommate horror stories. then, we got him some pussy, and he’s all better now. actually goes outside and gets light that isn’t from his laptop.”

“so, what do you say?” sunghoon asked, turning your head back to him. “want something other than your fingers inside you?”

your heart racing. were you really about to agree to getting fucked by your stepbrothers? when it was over, you could blame it on the fact that you genuinely were touch-starved and desperate for a release for all this pent-up frustration.

and because you really, really needed to come after having avoided it for hours, you nodded your head.

“words, princess,” heeseung said, his hands still gripping your thighs as he thought about how soft they were. “say it. say, ‘i want you to fuck me, heeseung.’”

you swallowed, but you weren’t going to disobey. “i… i want you to fuck me, heeseung.”

“jeez, you don’t have to beg. i’ll do it,” heeseung replied, playful as ever. “and because it’s your first time, i think we should do missionary. is that okay, princess?”

“that’s… fine,” you murmured timidly. it didn’t really matter to you how he fucked you. you just wanted someone inside you. 

heeseung was beaming, like he had prayed for this day and it was finally happening. “good. and if you ever want me to fuck you on all fours, you know the way to my room.”

the way heeseung was looking at you was entirely overwhelming, so you glanced over at sunghoon instead, though he was also watching you intently. “what about… you?” you asked. 

sunghoon chuckled, thumb sweeping over your lips. “i don’t need to fuck your pussy. i’ll leave that to heeseung. i just want to fuck this pretty little mouth that’s been keeping me up at night.”

heeseung, growing impatient, tugged at your panties. you lifted your hips, watching him drag them down your legs. “jesus,” he murmured. “they’re fucking drenched.”

“they better be,” sunghoon replied with a chuckle, stepping out of his pants. “long as she’s probably been wearing them.”

heeseung spread your legs, wanting to get a good look at the treasure hidden between them. he moaned at the mere sight of your pussy, dripping with arousal. “fuck, you don’t even need prep,” he mused.

as if you couldn’t get any more embarrassed than you already were. they knew exactly what to say to make you want to hide your face beneath a pillow and hopefully suffocate to death.

despite his declaration about you not needing prep, heeseung couldn’t help but drag his tongue along your folds, which made you gasp in surprise. it wasn’t a tentative lick, either; he was confident and unreluctant. you were clearly sensitive, but he didn’t seem to care, eager to suck and lick at you.

“heeseung,” you whimpered, involuntarily trying to close your legs. he swore his dick twitched when you said his name like that. 

all the while, sunghoon was stroking himself beside you, half hard. for the first time thinking about you at the same time that he touched his dick, and god, he really should have done it sooner. just the thought of you made his blood pump harder. 

heeseung pulled back after a moment or two when he was finally sated. “sorry,” he apologized, completely inauthentic. “just wanted a taste.”

sunghoon tapped your cheek. “open up, baby.”

you slowly opened your mouth, wide enough for him to push inside. which sunghoon seized the opportunity to do as soon as it presented itself. he was impatient now, tired of waiting. you had tortured him long enough with those pretty noises; it was time you paid him back for tolerating your horniness.

“fuck,” sunghoon cursed upon feeling the warmth of your mouth around his cock.

heeseung snickered. it was amusing to him that only a few hours ago, sunghoon said he was insane for suggesting that they fuck you. and now here he was with his cock down your throat. a few hours could truly change a man, for worse and for better. “how’s it going?” heeseung asked.

sunghoon closed his eyes, trying to go slow before he started fucking your throat with a purpose. he didn’t necessarily want to hurt you, but damn, he was getting pretty damn close. “how do you think?” he retorted.

you watched sunghoon as he slowly moved inside your mouth, though his patience was obviously dwindling by the second. part of you wanted to see what it would look like when he lost it all, but the other dreaded it, uncertain whether or not you could handle it.

you were still a virgin, after all. in the important and unimportant ways. you had never been fucked. you had most certainly never had your throat fucked until this very moment. the furthest you’d ever gone with a boy was a little bit of groping while kissing and even that was awkward.

heeseung licked his lips, appreciating that they were coated in your arousal. “taste so good, princess,” he said, dropping his hands down to his shorts.

you would have gawked when you glanced down and noticed the dent in them, even if it weren’t for the fact that your mouth was preoccupied. when did he get so hard? 

heeseung started to undress himself, pleased now that he had gotten a taste of you and eager to be inside you. he was quick to shed his shorts and the layer underneath, unafraid to show just how desperate he was. for him, it was easy to accept his attraction to you and even easier to act on it now that he had your consent.

he climbed onto the bed, grabbing your thighs again and spreading them apart. he gave them a few affectionate, departing kisses and sat up to grab his cock, bringing it between them. “say ‘goofer gooner’ if you’re ready,” heeseung joked, knowing you couldn’t speak.

you furrowed your brows, but you couldn’t even focus on his nonsense because sunghoon was noticeably forgoing all restraint. could you blame him? your mouth was warm, alive, and everything about you seemed to drive him straight through the brink of insanity. 

“you know, sunghoon,” heeseung started, gazing down at the little distance between your bodies. “you were right. i’m already in the mood again.”

you had that effect on him, on them. heeseung knew he probably should have fought it better, but he truly saw no point. it was easier to fold and surrender to the fact that he found you infuriatingly sexy, despite your tendencies. and with nothing more to say, he slowly but surely pressed himself inside you.

heeseung tipped his head back, already moaning like a bitch and he wasn’t even fully sheathed inside you yet. “holy fuck,” he said, his grip on your thighs tightening.

you whimpered, the sound muffled by sunghoon’s cock as his balls slapped against your chin. you immediately pulsed around heeseung’s cock, clinging to him like now that he was there, you would never let him go.

“holy fuck,” heeseung moaned again, stopping for a moment as if the breath had been completely sucked out of him. “so fucking wet, my dick just slides in.”

he was damn near flabbergasted. maybe there was benefit to you gooning for hours on end, a benefit that he got to reap. he had never seen anyone this wet before, much less felt anything this wet, and it was taking a toll on him. his head was already reeling.

“okay,” heeseung said, more so to himself. he was adjusting. “okay. fuck. i’m gonna move.”

and he did, growing more and more mesmerized with every thrust of his hips. his mouth hung open, moans of your name and explicit curses dangling from his lips with a shrill touch to them that only made you even more aroused.

to say nothing of the sounds sunghoon was making, almost directly in your ear. he was so close to your face that you could explode. he was finally moving comfortably, fucking your throat with a rhythm that almost made it hard to breathe. 

though you had no intention of making him stop. you had fantasized about making yourself available for this purpose many, many times. not necessarily to your stepbrother, but well, it wasn’t like you were discriminating. especially not when he sounded so goddamn sexy and his face was tensing the way it was in pleasure.

it was strange, but you found yourself going from solely craving the experience to wanting to pleasure them. and it would appear that you were doing a fantastic job without hardly even trying, all things considered.

heeseung was gripping on your thighs for dear life as if without the support, he would get blown away into the eighth dimension. or maybe drown in how wet you were, gushing around his cock, if not for him using your soft thighs as an anchor to keep him afloat.

“this sweet fucking pussy,” he sighed, losing himself in the vice of you. he had set a pace too, fucking you without intention of stopping. with every fiber of his being, deep and hard. “i could fuck you forever.”

you could sit here and take it forever. you had never felt so full in your life. your fingers hardly did the job, always reaching just shy of where you needed them instead of completely offering you the satisfaction you’d long craved. and here heeseung was handing it to you on a silver platter.

the only problem was that you felt slightly overwhelmed with so much happening at one time in two different holes. you didn’t know who to pay attention to; sunghoon fucking your throat with a vengeance, eager to gain something out of your mouth for once, or heeseung railing you to kingdom come, making you feel hot everywhere.

you found yourself trying to juggle both, eyes flitting between them, moaning around sunghoon’s dick at heeseung’s angled thrusts and throbbing around heeseung at every guttural groan that slipped from sunghoon’s mouth. you couldn’t help yourself; it was too goddamn arousing.

sunghoon noticed how fucked out you looked, eyes rolling back to another timeline, and it was doing unimaginable things to his cock. you looked better than he could have ever imagined and he knew that he wouldn’t be satisfied until he left you hoarse and rasping.

with that thought, he grabbed your hair to push you down and started to fuck your head against the mattress rather roughly, which caught you by surprise. you tried to take it, you really did, but it was overwhelming. you could barely breathe.

“take it,” he hissed, holding your head in place. you looked pretty like this, struggling to keep up with his hectic movements.

your eyes were watering as his cock went too deep for you to handle, and you started gagging. sunghoon moaned, but pulled your head off him to let you relax for a second, a string of saliva connecting your mouth and the head of his cock.

“breathe,” he said, letting one hand run through your hair almost tenderly.

you nodded, willing yourself to relax. all the while, sunghoon marveled at how pretty you looked with saliva on your face and tears strolling down your cheeks.

“you guys okay up there?” heeseung asked from between your legs, having noticed the action. 

“we’re fine,” sunghoon answered on your behalf. he moved his hand from your hair to your cheek. “you ready?”

you nodded your head. you couldn’t shake the urge to really make him proud, to satisfy all his inappropriate cravings. it was the least you could do when you had been tantalizing him for months on end.

“good girl,” sunghoon whispered, guiding his cock back to your mouth and this time using your hair to push your head onto his cock as he fucked your throat.

you moaned at the pet name, because something about the way it sounded coming from him made your head spin. maybe you were just horny and in dire need of a fuck like he’d said. maybe after you came, all of these feelings would wear off, and you would feel somewhat sane again. 

but you couldn’t deny that you were somewhat indulging in your fantasies here. you didn’t necessarily hate the the way sunghoon was treating you, even if it was a little beyond your limits and more than a little rough. but limits were just boundaries you’d yet explored.

heeseung was a different situation altogether. your pussy was still sensitive from the hours of playing with it and you were already about to come much before him. there was a familiar heat in your stomach and festering throb of energy in your core, only more intense than you had ever experienced.

but heeseung recognized it, even without being able to hear your sweet moans of his name. he could see it in your body language and it flattered him in a way; he always felt proud when he lasted longer than the person he was fucking, especially without necessarily even trying to finish them quicker.

“she’s gonna come,” heeseung pointed out, grinning. “come for me, princess. come on this dick. you know you want to.”

it was like he your voodoo doll or something, because merely seconds after those words parted from his mouth, you were shuddering and tightening around his cock with climax, your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your toes clenching.

heeseung let out the pitchiest moan ever when you throbbed around him repeatedly. words could not describe how good it felt, but sounds could. and the sounds he was making were sensational, only contributing to the mind-numbing pleasure wrecking you from within.

“goddamn,” heeseung said, mesmerized by how hard you came. it was probably warranted after hours of resisting.

but the other thing on heeseung’s mind was how much wetter your pussy sounded, sticky with your release. he whined, literally going mad. he knew that his own orgasm wasn’t far out and just the squelch of your cunt could easily finish him off.

sunghoon was facing a similar predicament, fucking your mouth without restraint and not letting you escape his thrusts. “fuck, i’m gonna come,” he groaned. “swallow it. or don’t. it’s your sheets.”

the last thing you of all people cared about was having your sheets ruined. at the moment, you were more burdened with how sore your throat felt and how overstimulated your pussy was being fucked despite having already orgasmed. it literally felt like you’d had the soul fucked out of you.

you didn’t even know it was possible at this point, but sunghoon’s hips went faster. it was a brutal but steady pace, which was somewhat admirable. he was trying to get himself there, right over the edge, knowing release was only seconds away.

with a few more smacks, sunghoon released down your throat with the sexiest groan you’d heard, one that claimed every award. when you’d milked him of every drop, his hands tight on the sides of your face, his grip on your head slacked and he slowly pulled your mouth off him.

you swallowed what you could, but he had came so goddamn much at once, it was borderline ridiculous. what you couldn’t take dripped down your chin, blending with the saliva from the messy fucking.

heeseung glanced up at you and the sight of your cum-stained face triggered something so primal in him that he knew he wasn’t going to last another minute. “princess, where do you want me to come?” he asked breathlessly.

“inside,” you replied with maybe half your voice, if even. it hurt to speak. the sound pleased sunghoon.

the thought of coming inside your pussy had heeseung levitating and was the last push he needed to bring himself past the cusp of ecstasy. his hips stuttered as he came inside you, crying out half of your name, leaning on top of you as he buried his load inside your warm, wet, gushing, sticky hole.

a satisfied hum escaped you when you felt his cum seeping inside your pussy. why did it feel so good?

“d-don’t move yet,” you whispered, because it was all you could muster.

heeseung glanced up at you, recognizing the look of pleasure on your face. if he had the energy, he would tease you about how you wanted to feel him cum inside you, but he needed to catch his breath. so he answered with a nod.

sunghoon whistled. this had gone better than he’d hoped. “well goddamn. you’re just a virgin slut aren’t you?”

heeseung chuckled breathlessly. “she took that shit like a champ. i’m impressed.”

sunghoon kissed your forehead. “you did so good,” he whispered, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “i’ll get you some water in a second.”

you nodded, appreciating the tender side after all that had just happened. your heart felt a little lighter than usual, despite its racing. you had so many questions, but you didn’t want to strain your voice. was it normal to feel like a different person after having sex for the first time?

heeseung was going to pull out, but seeing the look on your face, he decided to stay nestled inside you for a little longer. “you okay?”

you bobbed your head. “i’m good.”

heeseung snickered and teased, “whoa there, batman. what have you done with my sister?”

you rolled your eyes, but giggled. sunghoon joined in on the laughter, but he added, “don’t speak. you’ll make it worse.”

heeseung sighed contentedly. knowing that you wouldn’t say anything in response, he decided to tease, “our little gooner.”

you glared at heeseung wordlessly, conveying a lot of different things with your eyes. 

sunghoon translated playfully, “i think that means ‘fuck you.’”

“again?” heeseung joked. “what can i expect from a gooner. but hey, i guess girls can goon too.”

[tealvenetianmask]

The "old movies" of Blitz's traumatic memories went by really fast, so I slowed it down to .25 and watched it frame by frame to see what I could find. Here are the frames I found interesting.

The necklace. It's confirmed that this is the same one that his mother wore, and he found it in the fire. Maybe it fell off while she tried to escape the flames? We also see how it haunts him when her eyeball turns into it in his hallucination.

Cash throwing a hard fucking smack. Maybe after the fire? It kind of follows narratively, but I couldn't get much from the background. Or maybe it's earlier? Either way, our theories that Cash was physically abusive are confirmed. Fuck him.

Two cute M&M moments. I've felt for a while that when they got together it really messed with Blitz's world. The second one looks familiar. Is it from Exes and Oh's right before he hugs them and acts invasive about Chaz? Either way, his hands are reached out. He feels like a third wheel since they became a couple. So it seems like a lot of his creepy behavior comes down to feeling abandoned by his friends and trying to SOMEHOW be close to them in the only way he knows how to do so safely (being sexual and joking).

This moment with Loona at the end of Seeing Stars. The rage in her face. This was played for laughs mostly (Loona refusing the hug and kicking him in the balls) but maybe it was actually hurtful? Seems like it stuck with him. Seems like he fears that Loona actually resents him (so these two need a talk too eeek).

Barbie. Yepppppp. I can't decide whether this is in Unhappy Campers or from an earlier time.

ALL the Stolas moments. Is it reading into it too much to notice that in all of the moments before Blitz raged in The Full Moon, Stolas is looking at him, and in all of the moments after, he's looking away? Regardless, these are all really upsetting moments for Blitz. And the sheer number of them says something about how fresh and painful the breakup still is for him. HOPING they reunite and make some progress on this next episode. :(

I love the role that Blitz's HANDS play in these glimpses into his traumatic moments. He's never touching anyone, and often reaching or pulling back, or touching an object instead. He has so much love in him, and he's so lonely.

Updates, for anyone who's seeing this from the original post. Thanks to those who pointed these out.

Blitz's hands are burned when Cash smacks him, so it's from after the fire.

The M&M moments are from Murder Family and Truth Seekers.

[ccwpidsblog]

crashing out — onyakopon

⭐️: nsfw 18+ in which you learn why your fiancé retired from his old ways

cupids arrows: if you’re new here pls ignore my old post 🙏🏾

Onyakopon was the chillest man you’d ever met.

You remember the first day you met your fiancé like it was yesterday. Your puppy had slipped her leash and bolted after the two of you got caught in the rain. Mud was everywhere—on her paws, on the soaked sidewalk—and you watched in horror as she ran straight for the tall, dark-skinned man with deep waves and glistening golden grills, his baggy jeans and fresh Dunks standing no chance against the chaos she brought.

The muddy paws left stains all over his jeans, and you were mortified. You snatched her up quickly, firing off apology after apology, even offering to clean his shoes and pants. You were so embarrassed you swear you felt your soul leave your body.

But he just shrugged it off, his low brown eyes soft, paired with a small smile that eased your panic.

“You good,” he said simply, his voice calm and mellow, while you were seconds from collapsing in shame.

That day never left your mind, especially after you somehow ended up in a relationship with the man. Ony was so... nonchalant.

You yapped his ear off from morning until sundown, never running out of things to say, and he never once complained. When you accidentally knocked over his grinder, spilling his entire stash of weed, he didn’t get mad—he just kissed you on the forehead to quiet your babbling apologies. When you bleached his Chrome Hearts hoodie, almost crying over it, he shrugged and said, “It’s just a hoodie. I’ll get a new one.” And he did.

He was a sweetheart through and through. He spoiled you, listened to you, and made you feel like you could do no wrong. Even when he proposed—after three years together—it was the most emotion and the most words you’d ever heard him say all at once.

Most of your love lived in unspoken gestures. A look, a kiss on the temple, his hand resting on your knee when you ranted about your day. You always seemed to read his mind before he had to say anything. And you were okay with it—Ony’s silence spoke volumes.

So when his friends sat around telling wild stories—about your Ony chasing some guy down three blocks for stepping on his shoe—you just blinked, completely dumbfounded.

“That was not my Onya,” you said, shaking your head.

It was one of those late summer days where the air felt heavy with heat and conversation. You and Ony were at one of Sasha’s backyard barbecues—loud music, too much smoke in the air, and way too many faces you didn’t know. You didn’t mind, though. Ony always brought you along, hand warm in yours, whispering low in your ear, “You good, ma. I got you.”

But today, Ony had disappeared somewhere in the crowd. Probably off somewhere smoking a blunt to cool. You didn’t mind. Coco was leashed at your side, her tail wagging as she sniffed around, and you were content grabbing a soda from the cooler, letting the afternoon sun warm your shoulders.

Until you noticed him.

Tall, built like Ony but rougher around the edges. His smile didn’t reach his eyes, and something about him set you on edge.

“Cute dog,” he said, nodding at Coco, who barked happily.

“Thanks,” you replied, polite but wary. “She’s a menace, but she’s ours.”

The man chuckled, eyes lingering on you. Too long. “Yours and Ony’s, huh? Never thought I’d see the day Ony got himself all... domesticated.”

You blinked, thrown off by his words. “Yeah. We’re engaged.”

For emphasis, you lifted your hand and showed off the engagement ring sitting proudly on your finger. Ony had picked it out himself, saying something about it being “the only rock that could keep up with you.”

The man’s grin faltered for a second before turning sharp again, something ugly flickering behind his eyes. “Man... Ony really cleaned up. Bet you don’t know half of what he used to be on.”

You shifted your weight, suddenly uncomfortable. “Do you know Ony?”

Before he could answer, you felt it. The shift in the air.

You turned to see Ony stepping up, shoulders squared, jaw tight. His calm, lazy demeanor was gone, replaced with something cold and dangerous.

“Yo,” Ony’s voice was low, sharp like a blade. “What the hell you doin’ here, Ricky?”

The man, Ricky, smirked, completely unfazed. “Relax, bro. Just catching up with your girl. Didn’t know I wasn’t allowed to say hi.”

Ony ignored him and stopped in front of you, his hand gently brushing your elbow, like he needed to feel you there, steady and safe. “You okay?” he murmured, voice softer now.

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, searching his face. “Who is—”

“You don’t talk to her,” Ony cut you off, his voice sharper again as he looked back at Ricky. “Ever.”

Ricky barked out a laugh, shaking his head like the whole thing was a joke. “Damn, Ony. You really changed, huh? Wife. Dog. Family barbecues. You think this erases all that sh*t we did? Think it makes you better than me?”

You looked between them, confusion swirling in your chest.

Ricky’s smirk widened. “You ain’t gonna tell her? About Kev?”

The name hit Ony like a physical blow. His whole body went rigid.

“Who’s Kev?” you asked, your voice trembling.

Ricky grinned, ignoring you. “The one who didn’t make it ‘cause we were out there actin’ reckless. But you remember that, huh?”

It happened so fast you gasped. Ony’s fist collided with Ricky’s jaw, sending him stumbling back.

“Ony!” you cried as Coco barked wildly.

The crowd turned, the music seeming to dim as Ony’s voice rang out. “Keep my name out your mouth!”

Ricky spat blood and grinned like he’d won. “Same old Ony.”

Ony let Eren drag him back, but his face was still tight, his body vibrating with rage. He didn’t stop to explain. He just scooped Coco into your arms and pulled you out of the backyard, his hand gripping your waist.

“What the fuck was that, Onyakopon?” you hissed as you reached the car.

“Get in the fuckin’ car,” he snapped.

The tone stunned you into silence. It was the first time in three years Ony had ever raised his voice at you. Before you could argue, he lifted you off your feet, set you in the passenger seat, buckled you in, and slammed the door. 

The ride home was silent, the tension so thick it choked the air. Ony’s jaw was set, teeth gritted as his knuckles turned white on the steering wheel. You sat stiff in the passenger seat, arms crossed over your chest as you stared out the window. Even the low hum of the engine felt deafening.

When you got home, the silence followed. Ony unlocked the door, opened it for you like he always did, and set your purse down, but his movements were robotic, like he was on autopilot. You didn’t move—just stood there staring at him.

Finally, you snapped.

“You don’t get to act like nothing happened, Ony!” Your voice trembled with anger, eyes blazing as you threw your hands up. “What the hell was that back there?”

Ony didn’t answer. He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it onto the couch, walking straight to the kitchen like he hadn’t heard you.

“Don’t walk away from me!” you shouted, following him. “Don’t you dare—”

“I said it don’t matter!” he barked, whirling around. His voice was sharp and raw, cutting through the air like a blade.

You flinched but stood your ground, refusing to let him shut you out. “How can you say that? That man knew you, Ony. He knew things about you I don’t! And the way you hit him? Who was that?! Because it sure as hell wasn’t the man I know!”

Ony ran a hand down his face, pacing back and forth. “You don’t need to know that part of me.”

“Why?” you shot back, stepping closer, fists clenched at your sides. “Because you’re ashamed? Because you don’t want me to see who you used to be?”

He stopped dead in his tracks, his chest heaving as he looked at you, eyes dark and stormy. “It ain’t like that.”

“Then what is it, Ony?” you pushed, voice trembling. “You can’t stand here and tell me you love me—ask me to marry you—and then keep this huge part of yourself locked away like it doesn’t exist.”

“You don’t get it!” he snapped, voice booming. “I was reckless, alright? I was a dumb kid, running around, doing shit I ain’t proud of. You really wanna hear how bad it got? You really wanna know the kind of man I used to be?” His voice cracked, his fists shaking at his sides. “I ain’t that man anymore. I can’t be.”

You stared at him, your chest tight with a mix of anger and heartbreak. “I want all of you, Ony,” you whispered fiercely. “Not just the version you think I deserve. I don’t care how ugly it gets. I’m not some fragile thing you need to protect from the truth.”

He froze, shoulders slumping as he stared at you, something breaking behind his eyes. “I’m tryin’, ma,” he said hoarsely, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m tryin’ so damn hard to leave that shit behind. You don’t know what it’s like, carryin’ that with me every day. Losin’ Kev... I don’t ever want to feel that again. I don’t want you to look at me like I’m some monster.”

Your face softened, tears spilling as you stepped closer. “I’m not gonna look at you like that,” you said, your voice shaky but sure. “But I need you to trust me. I need you to stop pushing me away.”

Ony’s gaze flickered to yours, the fight finally draining out of him. He let out a long, unsteady breath and sank down onto one of the kitchen chairs, resting his elbows on his knees as he rubbed his face.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, his voice rough. “I’m sorry I scared you back there. I just... when I saw Ricky talking to you, all I could think about was keepin’ you away from that part of my life. Away from him.”

You took a deep breath, the anger still simmering but softened by his words. “I’m not going anywhere, Ony. But you gotta stop keeping me out.”

He looked up at you then, eyes raw and vulnerable. “You deserve better than the mess I used to be.”

You stepped in front of him, taking his face in your hands and forcing him to look at you. “You’re not that man anymore,” you said softly. “I see you, Ony. I see who you are now. And I’m here because I love you—all of you.”

His expression cracked, something deep in him finally breaking free. He let out a shuddering breath, his hands sliding up to rest on your waist. “Damn, ma,” he whispered, his voice thick. “I don’t deserve you.”

You shook your head, brushing your thumb over his cheek. “Stop saying that.”

Ony’s hands tightened on your waist, his eyes holding yours. “Let me make it up to you,” he said softly, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine.

You blinked at him, breath hitching. “Ony...”

His gaze darkened, the tension between you shifting—charged and electric. Slowly, he stood up, his towering frame forcing you to tilt your chin up to keep looking at him. He leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a kiss so soft it made your knees weak.

“Please,” he murmured against your lips, his voice husky and full of promise. “Let me make it up to you, baby. I got you. Always.”

His hands slid up your sides, slow and deliberate, his touch both gentle and possessive. You melted into him, your fingers tangling in his hair as he deepened the kiss—soft and tender at first, then hungrier, like he couldn’t get close enough to you.

“Ony,” you breathed, your voice trembling as he kissed down your jaw, his lips trailing warmth along your skin.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered against your neck, his words punctuated by soft kisses. “For everything. I swear I’m gonna be better. You just gotta let me show you.”

You swallowed hard, your hands gripping his shoulders. “Show me, then.”

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his dark eyes searching yours. “I will,” he said quietly, his voice rough with emotion. “Starting right now.”

And that’s how you found yourself lying back on the bed, your body a tangled mess of need and warmth as your fiancé, lost himself in your ocean. His hands gripped your thighs with a possessive force, pulling them up and against your chest as his tongue worked in ways only he knew how to, bringing you to places you’d only ever reached with him. Every motion was deliberate, skilled—each flick, each touch of his fingers pushing you further, deeper into pleasure. His strength held you in place, leaving you no space to escape the sensations he stirred in you. His mouth, hot and insistent, tasted you, marked you, as if he couldn’t get enough, as if you were the only thing that mattered in that moment.

The pleasure became too much. Your body jerked, squirming away from the relentless skill of Ony’s tongue, but he was quicker, stronger. His grip tightened on your thighs, keeping you exactly where he wanted you. His large palm landed on the side of your thigh with a sharp smack—not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make you freeze and gasp.

“Where you think you goin’, mama?” His voice was low, husky, as he leaned up, his lips and chin glistening with your essence. His golden grills caught the light, making him look both dangerous and divine. “Why you runnin’ from me? I’m just tryna apologize.”

Your whine came out incoherent, the words caught in your throat as his dark, smoldering eyes stayed fixed on you. He towered over you now, his body an imposing figure as he crawled over you, caging you beneath him. His breath was hot against your cheek, and you stared up at him, dazed, your vision swimming with glassy tears of overwhelming bliss.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his lips pulling into that half-smile, wet and sinful. His smooth, dark skin gleamed, catching the dim light in a way that made him almost unreal, too beautiful to belong to one person alone—but he was yours. Completely yours. “So fuckin’ pretty, baby,” he praised, brushing a thumb over your cheek to catch a stray tear.

Your body trembled as he shifted, lining himself up with slow precision. Then he pushed into you, your shared groans filling the room as he sank in deep. Your fingers clutched at his shoulders, nails biting into his skin as he stretched you perfectly.

“My pretty fuckin’ wife,” he growled against your lips, his voice thick with possession and reverence.

You didn’t have the strength to reply—just a soft moan as your legs locked around his waist, anchoring him to you, letting him take you to where only he could.

The slow, deliberate roll of Ony’s hips sent waves of pleasure crashing over you, leaving you trembling beneath him. He leaned closer, his lips brushing against your temple as he whispered, “You feel so good, baby. Perfect—just for me.”

You could only moan in response, your hands sliding down his back, nails raking gently across his skin. Every movement he made was precise, deliberate, and meant to unravel you. His pace quickened, his control slipping as he pushed deeper, his grunts mixing with your cries.

“Ony,” you gasped, your voice breaking. Your legs trembled as you wrapped them tighter around his waist, desperate to feel all of him.

“I got you, mama,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. “Ain’t lettin’ go. You hear me?” His words were both grounding and intoxicating, pulling you further into the bliss he created with every stroke.

The heat built between you, your breaths turning shallow and ragged. Ony’s forehead rested against yours, his dark, hooded eyes never leaving your face. “Look at me,” he commanded softly, his voice deep and low.

Your glazed eyes fluttered open to meet his, and the intensity in his gaze made your chest tighten. “I love you,” he said suddenly, his voice raw, almost breaking.

The words hit you like a tidal wave, a sob catching in your throat. “I love you too,” you whimpered, your voice trembling as your hands cupped his face.

His lips met yours in a searing kiss, his pace growing erratic, matching the desperate beat of your heart. “You’re mine,” he growled against your lips, his movements growing sharper, deeper. “All mine.”

Your body tensed, pleasure coiling tight in your core until it finally snapped, sending shockwaves through you. Your back arched as you cried out his name, your nails digging into his shoulders.

Ony wasn’t far behind, his hips stuttering as he buried himself deep, a guttural groan escaping his throat. His body shuddered against yours, his head falling to the crook of your neck as he whispered your name like a prayer.

For a while, neither of you moved, the only sounds in the room your mingled breaths and the faint rustle of the sheets. Ony’s weight was solid and grounding on top of you, his hands still gripping your thighs as though he was afraid to let go.

Finally, he shifted, pressing a gentle kiss to your collarbone before rolling to the side, pulling you with him. He tucked you into his chest, his large hand splaying across your back.

“You good, mama?” he asked softly, his lips brushing against your forehead.

“More than good,” you murmured, your voice still shaky. You tilted your head up to look at him, your heart swelling at the tenderness in his gaze. “I love you, Ony.”

“I love you more,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. He kissed you again, slow and sweet, before resting his forehead against yours.

As your breathing evened out and sleep began to tug at your senses, Ony whispered, “Ain’t nothin’ in this world I wouldn’t do for you, baby. You know that, right?”

“I know,” you replied softly, nuzzling into his chest. “And I’d do the same for you.”

The last thing you felt before drifting off was Ony’s fingers tracing lazy circles on your back, his lips pressing one last lingering kiss to your hair.

[thedollydiaries]

imagine like simon goes into some sort of surgery and has to be put under anesthesia, and when he gets out hes like still high asf on it 💀 and hes being a lil silly goose

okay this is such a cute idea omg, this is 100% based off that tiktok audio where it's like "my wife wouldn't like you touching me like that" "i AM your wife."

thank you so much for the request nonnie, a forehead kiss for you MWAH MWAH

simon 'ghost' riley x reader

wc: 563

warnings: none really, lots and lots of that good ol fluff, mentions of surgery, goofy simon, maybe a little ooc simon (he's high so it's fine)

a/n: i hope this is okay, i'm feeling a bit rusty with my writing but i've finally got back some motivation and energy to do so after the past two months of low energy and bad mental health. if you guys want to know a bit more about it and my mental health (i don't see why anyone would but lmao) let me know, i don't mind making a post about it if you guys want an explanation of some sort or whatever. anywho, sorry this is so short but i hope you still like it!! <3

a/n 2.0: i recently applied for a part time job at a bookstore so y'all pray for me that i get this job because i want it so bad. i am just gonna decide that i WILL get this job, because why wouldn't i?

simon had been out of surgery for just over an hour now, being a soldier you 'd think perhaps he was going under surgery for some kind of wound he had inflicted upon him on the battlefield but no, he was just getting his tonsils removed after a bad bout of tonsillitis ended up with him developing really bad tonsil stones.

so here you were, waiting by his bedside for him to wake up. the doctor and nurses reminded you just as he had gotten out that he may still be a little, well loopy, off of the meds depending on how quickly he woke up. you waited in a chair at his bedside, reading a book when you heard the blankets of the bed rustling just a little.

looking up from your book you see simon starting to wake up and you reach out to grasp his hand, only for him to rip it away from you when his eyes were fully opened.

"uh, si? you okay, hon?" you ask gently, maybe he just wasn't feeling too well after waking up, or perhaps he wasn't wanting physical touch, that happened quite often and you always respected that space he may want when he wanted it.

"don't call me that." simon said, voice hoarse and scratchy from the surgery, he sounded a little angry.

"what?" you questioned, this wasn't like simon, you couldn't understand why he wouldn't want you speaking like this to him.

"i'm taken."

"i know." you replied with a short laugh.

"you should be touching me like that then."

it hit you then, he was woozy from the meds and didn't recognize you. the realization made you laugh a little more. you decided to have a bit of fun with this high version of your boyfriend.

"sorry about that simon. wanna tell me about your partner?"

"oh, (name)? they're amazing, you know they're so pretty. and they're funny too. they always know how to make me feel better, i miss them." simon replies, ranting and raving on and on to you about his partner, about you.

"you love them a lot, don't you?" you ask him with a smile, it felt so nice to hear all these lovely things about yourself, your boyfriend clearly unfiltered by the effects of the anesthesia he was under.

sure he definitely said sweet things to your face, but something about hearing it when he was basically high as shit made your heart pound a little more.

"i love them with my whole heart." simon replies, a goofy little smile on his face.

you can't help but reach out to gently caress his face at those words, body filling up with some much adoration for the soldier in front of you.

"hey! what did i say about touching me. i have a partner!" simon scolds, trying to dodge your touch.

"simon, love... i am your partner. it's me, (name)." you reply with a laugh.

simon takes a good long look at you when you tell him this, he stares at you, looks you up and down before letting out a soft and quiet "oh."

you begin to hear the beeping of his heart rate monitor speed up, his cheeks turning slightly pink as he stares up at you.

you couldn't help but laugh a little more at this. what a sweet idiot. your sweet idiot.

[afterglowsainz]

Hey can I get a jealous Jude x female reader. Nothing too toxic lol l, it’s just some guys hitting y/n up on social media and somehow Jude sees the DMs and gets a little jealous. Then his petty self goes and posts a picture of him and his girlfriend on her ig or something petty like responds back with a “she’s busy bro”. Thanks 🫶🏻

jealousy | jude bellingham

obsessed with this concept already !!

summary: while you're getting ready to go out on a date with your boyfriend, he accidentally sees some dms he doesn't like and decides to do something about it

warnings: none

word count: 738

a/n: boring title booo i know i know i couldn't think of anything better :( i do hope you like the one shot tho it was fun to write about jealous jude <3

you were getting ready to go out on a date with jude while he was laying on your bed waiting for you. his phone was charging somewhere in the living room so you gave him yours to play a game so he doesn’t get bored. you were putting on your makeup while singing along to your playlist while he was building some villages or whatever it was that they do on clash royale. however, jude got distracted when an instagram dm pop up at the top of your phone, it was from this formula 1 driver that he knew was always liking your pictures, he didn’t knew he was dming you as well. he thought about opening the message, but he didn’t want to invade your privacy like that, so he simply looked at you.

“someone dm you.” he says.

his voice took you out of your little world and you place your gaze on him thought the mirror you were applying your makeup on.

“who?”

“lando norris.” he reads the name like he didn’t knew already.

“what does it say?” you hide a laugh and continue with your makeup routine.

jude opens the message and reads it out loud. it was obvious he was hitting on you by replying to a story you had posted earlier that day when you went to brunch with your friends and you felt cute.

“are you gonna answer?” he asks again, hints of jealousy on voice.

“not really, no.” you answer and go back to singing along and applying mascara on.

when jude goes back to the screen on your phone his thumb accidentally swipes left and your whole inbox is completely exposed to him. he didn’t meant to do that, but it really was an accident and he couldn’t help but see now that it was there, only he wished he didn’t have.

some of your dms were just conversations with your friends, but a lot of them were just guys replying to your stories and hitting on you, which made him even more jealous than before. you never replied to them, going as far as deleting some of the messages you received, but since you hadn’t checked your instagram since that afternoon a lot of dms from different guys complimenting you on your story were there for jude to find.

he frowns at the phone and takes a look at you, completely oblivious while doing your eyeliner. his eyes go back to the screen and he starts looking up some pictures that you took the week before of you two.

“do you mind if i post one of those pictures you took of us last week?” he asks out of nowhere. “so i can repost it on my story.” he clarifies.

you frown a bit confused because this is the first time he has asked you something like this, but after him seeing the other guy’s dm and feeling a bit jealous you connected the dots and smile amused.

“sure.” you say.

he nods and went to post a story with the two of you looking definitely like the couple you were. he spend a few seconds thinking about a good caption, landing on a simple “my boyfriend❤️”, very straight to the point. he also tagged himself big enough for everyone to see and posted the picture, a satisfied smile on his face.

when you were done with your makeup and ready to go, you approached him and sat on his lap, your phone still in his hand.

“let me see the picture.” you smiled. he shows you the story and you rolled your eyes, a bit amused at his possessiveness. “was that really necessary?” you point at the text and he just shrugs.

“i just feel like there’s a lot of people that don't know we’re together, you know? just wanna put it out there.” you nod, fighting the smile on your face and putting your arms around him.

“is that so?” you tease him, getting closer to him if that was even possible.

“yeah, lots of guys on your dms.” he confess. “they liked your selfie earlier.”

“hmm.” you answer. “i wouldn’t know about that, i only like one guy.” a treacherous smile takes over his lips and you take the opportunity to kiss him. “wanna go? we’ll be late to dinner.”

jude just nods and gets out of bed, never dropping your hand for a second.

[heesimp]

saw your post and comment about heehoon getting off together bc they both want yn…that is so hot I want to read that. Please

I want to read that too 😋 I would love to write more of this type of content so please let me know if you’d read it!

warnings: heehoon jerk off together, mentions of wanting to fuck reader and suck on her tits and pussy, mentions of dry humping, blowjob mention, exchange of fantasies, subtle mxm context (they sit next to each other on the couch and watch each other jerk off), mentions of a sex toy, implied share use of a toy at the end.

send in your hard thoughts x

-

“Dude, are you hard?!”

Heeseung looks over to his friend who sits beside him on the couch in nothing but sweatpants and a flimsy t-shirt. The two of them have sat in silence for the past few minutes or so after their friends left their apartment with you in tow, giving them each a hug goodbye as Jay and Jake undoubtedly drove you back to your apartment.

Still, your perfume lingers in the air. It smells somewhere between vanilla and peaches.

The TV has something playing in the background but neither of them can say they’ve been paying much attention to it. Sunghoon’s been scrolling on Instagram for the past few minutes when Heeseung happened to look over at him to ask what he wanted to watch when he saw the slight tent in his roommate’s pants.

Sunghoon looks up, unashamed. He turns his phone towards the elder. “Can you blame me? Look at her?”

Heeseung squints and sees your profile. “Have you been hard this entire time?”

“Since she walked in. Don’t tell me you don’t feel that way either. I always see you looking at her ass when she walks in front of you.”

Heeseung blushes for a moment. “I can’t help it. Her ass is phenomenal and she always wears those short shorts when she comes over.” Sunghoon groans.

“Yeah, the ones where you can see her panties, right? I swear she’s doing it on purpose.”

“Have you two ever…”

Sunghoon nods his head. “Once.” He bites his lip at the memory. “It was late, really late. She was sobering up after getting drunk at our place a few months ago when you were visiting your cousin. I told her she could sleep over since I was too tired to drive and the guys already left.

“What happened next?”

“I insisted she take my bed while I take the couch but she put up a pretty good fight. She insisted I sleep there with her since it’s my apartment and we’re both adults. We ended up dry fucking, man. She woke me up the middle of the night and I think she was having a wet dream or something.”

“Fuck, really?”

Sunghoon nods. “Yeah. Her leg was over mine and she got so shy when she realized we were both awake but I was so hard since her pussy kept rubbing over me.”

“But you two didn’t fuck?”

He groans. “Wish we did but it felt too good to stop. I took off my sweats and tried to get us naked but Y/N kept rubbing herself on me like she was desperate. That shit was so hot. That was the only time I get to see her cum, too. She let me on top of her and I had to pretend that I was fucking her balls deep since our clothes were still on.”

Heeseung curses and pictures himself in this exact position, running a hand through his hair to tug at his roots. “Were her panties wet?”

“Soaked. I could feel her through my boxers.”

“Y/N is too hot for her own good.” Heeseung watches Sunghoon’s cock jump as he readjusts his position on the couch.

“Wish I could touch her, you know? Knowing she he’s really wet turns me on. Shit.”

Heeseung can’t help but think about it. He’s seen you in swimming suits before and it doesn’t take much for him to imagine what you’d look like without them on. His cock stirs in his pants when he thinks about you gushing for him. Something about Sunghoon’s words turn him on too.

“What else do you want to do to her?” Heeseung finds himself asking his friend.

He laugh. “What don’t I want to do to her? I want to suck on her tits, man. It kills me that she doesn’t wear a bra when she comes over because I can see everything, especially when it’s a little cold. Perky nipples and everything.”

“Fuck,” Heeseung moans. “What else?”

“I’d want to eat her cute little pussy too. Fucks me up every time she flashes us with her shorts…I want to know what she feels like on my tongue.”

Heeseung laughs incredulously. “Damn, Hoon. You’re making me hard.” Sunghoon returns the laughter and doesn’t shy away from looking at his friend’s lap. Heeseung is almost as hard as he is but that seems to make him harder. “Is it bad that I want to cum inside of her?”

“No, fuck no it’s not.” Sunghoon bucks his hips involuntarily against his sweats. “Had a dream the other night that Y/N let me fuck her and creamed all over me…Goddamn, it felt so real.”

“Sometimes I think about her when I watch stuff,” Heeseung admits. “It’s better when I can’t see the girl’s face. I pretend it’s Y/N and it always makes me cum the hardest.”

“Me too. I love those twitter videos more than anything. Sometimes I pretend she’s the one who sent it to me.” Sunghoon brings a hand to his hardened cock and palms himself without a care in the world, even if Heeseung’s eyes grow wide at the movement. “C’mon, man. You can’t say you aren’t turned on.”

“Jesus. You jump right into it, huh?”

Sunghoon scoffs. “Don’t sit there and pretend you haven’t gotten off to me bringing girls home. I hear you in your bedroom, you know.” Heeseung laughs as if to challenge him.

“And you can’t say that you haven’t gotten off when I bring girls back.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Sunghoon looks back at your Instagram profile and curses under his breath, gripping his cock above the fabric. Heeseung pulls his phone out to look at you too.

“Her tits are incredible,” Heeseung moans as he brings his hand to palm himself. “I wanna put my dick between them and fuck her like that.”

“Cum all over her tits,” Sunghoon adds. “I’d kill to see her on her knees for me like that. Her tits are my weakness.” Palming himself isn’t nearly enough. “Fuck it.”

Heeseung loses his breath when Sunghoon pulls his hard dick out of his pants. “Woah, now? Don’t you want to like, go to your room or something?”

Sunghoon rolls his eyes. “It’s not like you haven’t seen my cock before. You don’t usually get this shy when we share a girl.”

Fair point. Heeseung pulls his dick out too.

For a minute, the soft sound of the TV permeates throughout the room as the two of them look at your photos and slowly stroke themselves opposite each other on the couch. Heeseung hears Sunghoon grunt under his breath and hold back a deeper moans when his thumb swipes over his swollen slit that drools precum.

Heeseung’s cock is just as hard. His fingers grip himself with fervor and for just a moment, he pretends it’s your hand that’s stroking him. He imagines the look you’d give him if you were on your knees before him and throws his head back when he moans.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Sunghoon asks as he twists his wrist to stroke himself better. “Fuck, thinking about her always gets me so hard.”

“Want her mouth on me,” Heeseung says in a broken moan. “Her cute little mouth is always telling us off but fuuuuck. She should use it on me instead.”

Sunghoon squeezes himself at the base and flickers his gaze from his phone to his too to watch even more precum ooze out of himself. Thinking about you like this gets always makes him incredibly hard and wet. He can only imagine what would happen if he got the chance to fuck you.

The sounds of their arousal splashing against their cocks as their hand moves up and down is the loudest sound in the room and neither Heeseung nor Sunghoon can for certain say they aren’t turned on by it. In the past, they’ve had their fair share of threesomes with girls they’ve met at parties and past hookups who’ve expressed interest in fucking two guys at the same time, but never have they ever found themselves in a predicament like this.

You are the common denominator within their friend group. Somehow, senior year of university brought the give of you together after an assigned group project in one of your classes that forced you all to spend a good majority of your time together, slaving away for a good grade. The semester ended but the five of you still continued to see each other, project be damned.

Both of them are pretty sure Jay and Jake probably have a thing for you too. You’re hot, smart, and really funny. You’re everything any guy could ever want and it’s always a shame that you’ve preferred to keep to yourself instead of become as promiscuous as the four of them, even if they don’t judge you for it.

Sunghoon speeds up his hand and throws his phone down on the couch to cup his balls. “Ah, damn. I’m close.”

“Me too,” Heeseung breathes. He puts his phone down too and mimics Sunghoon by squeezing his own balls, pretending it was you getting him off. “You wanna cum together?”

“Goddamn,” Sunghoon says with a laugh as his arm flexes. “Why do I find that really hot?”

“Imagine if Y/N was here with us.” Heeseung licks his lips and zeroes in on Sunghoon’s cock, imagining as it disappears inside of your pussy. “Imagine if we both came in her.”

“Always wanted to try that double penetration shit. Shame we didn’t do that before.”

“Soon,” Heeseung promises. “Y/N looks like the kind of girl who’d be into that. If she let you dry hump her then I’ll bet she’s let us fuck her pussy at the same time.”

The logic doesn’t make any sense but neither of them care. They squeeze themselves until choked moans become louder than the TV in front of them.

Heeseung cums with white tall spurts ruining the hem of his shirt but the wet stain doesn’t bother him. At the same time, Sunghoon spills out much slower, his cum seeping out of himself like a water fountain as it dribbles onto his hand. Heeseung watches his friend continue rubbing himself while he spreads his cum down his cock and onto his balls.

Both of them regain their breathes and feel strangely turned on by the events that just transpired. Heeseung finds himself wondering what Sunghoon would look like when he’s got you underneath him. He tugs at his cock at the thought and surprised himself when he doesn’t soften up.

Sunghoon smiles wickedly at Heeseung when he sees his friend’s cock twitching, his own dick remaining hard. “Wanna go again?”

“You want to jerk off again?”

He nods and stands up from the couch. Sunghoon pulls his pants up just comfortably enough until they rest below his ballsack and walks to his room, leaving a dumbfounded Heeseung sitting on the couch in his soiled boxers until he Sunghoon comes back out with a toy that looks a lot like a woman’s torso, ass, and pussy.

“Fuck, you actually own one of those things?!”

Sunghoon nods. “I use it when I get off to porn. Don’t you have anything?”

“Just a fleshlight but I’ve always wondered what those feel like.”

“Kinda like the real thing by more rubbery and smooth, obviously.” Sunghoon holds it up for Heeseung. “Since you mentioned double penetration…”

Heeseung cuts him off. “Let’s practice.”

***

please reblog and leave a comment if you enjoyed :)

[pencil-n-pen]

I’M STILL TRYING EVERYTHING

⋆° 𐙚 ₊🧦☕🧸₊°⋆ ೀ₊°⋆

previous | kofi | masterlist

post prison!spencer reid x fem!reader

₊ ⊹

I'm still trying everything to keep you looking at me.

-mirrorball, taylor swift

₊ ⊹

summary: you’ve never had a date or a relationship that either didn’t work out or end in disaster. now that you have spencer, you’re determined not to let it happen again

cw: referenced bad past relationships, very very vaguely referenced past domestic abuse that honestly could be taken a different way, referenced child abuse (readers parents are STILL not it) again this is a criminal minds fic so references to graphic violence

tags/tropes: hurt/comfort (do i even need to say this? you all know who i am) insecurity, like one line of misogyny and it’s in the past and not brought up again, spencer being soft n worried, HEALTHY COMMUNICATION, spencer is just as gone for reader as she is for him honestly he's just a sap

a/n: back by popular demand !! seriously guys, you have no idea how much the support and comments and reblogs and asks means to me 🥹 the overwhelming amount of love for the first fic made me so happy when people started asking about a sequel i knew i had to !!

read the crossword on the collage for a surprise :)

this one goes out to all my girlies who’ve ever felt like they needed to be less in order to get a boyfriend or keep one. we’ll have our soft love just the way it was meant to be

⋆⭒˚.⋆

Spencer is a really good boyfriend.

Like… a really good boyfriend. You’re not sure if this is how having a real boyfriend is or if Spencer is just like this.

He’s so good to you. He’s just so- so him. You can’t explain it. Can’t put it into words.

He’s very patient with you. You’ve never explicitly stated it, but he’s picked up on your previous relationship experience- or more accurately, your lack thereof. The morning after you’d gone home with him, night consisting of nothing but easy sleep and warmth, he’d asked you out for real. Asked you if you’d go on a date with him, and you’d agreed, a giddy smile fixed firmly on your face.

But you still worry.

All it takes it one conversation with your parents to push things over the edge.

“Yes, dad. He’s very good to me.”

A laugh crackles over the line. “I tell you, your mother and I never thought we’d see the day.”

The words twinge uncomfortably in your chest. “Hey, I’m not that bad. I’ve just been focused.”

“More like uptight.”

“Dad—“

“You know, you still haven’t come out to visit your poor old parents since getting this so-called cushy job. And now you’ve got this boyfriend. You’re too young to settle down. Don’t you think we should meet him?”

Sometimes conversations turn so quickly they leave you stranded— scrambling to pick up pieces of what you thought was going to happen and piece them together to make something new. Something for the new route the conversation has taken.

You couldn’t hold back your sigh if you tried. “We haven’t been dating for that long dad, I don’t want to spring this on him—“

“Sweetie, if we don’t meet him now, why might never meet him. Who knows how long he’s gonna stick around?”

(Sometimes, in moments like these, for just a split second, you wonder how a father could say something like that, to his daughter. You wonder why, wonder what you did wrong. And then, you imagine Hotch saying those same things, and you can’t, and it almost makes you feel a little better.)

Your blood runs cold. “What could you possibly mean by that?”

“Well, you know how things have ended in the past. I’m just saying I’d like to meet him before he’s gone."

You don't dignify his words with a response.

"Come on, honey. I'm just joking with you."

"It's not funny."

"Don't be like that--"

"Goodbye."

You hang up, snapping the phone shut with a sigh.

The older you've gotten, the more conversations with your parents end up like this. You suppose it's the way you 'wasted your potential' or 'never made something of yourself.' They've always held resentment ever since you decided to become an agent. So you know not to take what they say to heart, because their words only come from a place of disappointment and displeasure. It's not a reflection of who you really are or what you've really accomplished.

Or at least, that's what Hotch told you when he'd overheard one of your phone calls. It meant more than you'd let on.

But your Dad's words linger in your head. They're irritating and sharp where they claw around in your head because they're true.

You can count on one hand the amount of romantic endeavors you've had. And from those, they all ended horribly. Your parents lost sympathy towards the end of your attempts, muttered words of needing to try harder to keep them, that you should be satisfied that somebody wanted you at all, that you should try to be less... you.

Try to be less... you, dear. The books and the facts- nobody wants those. Put some more effort into your appearance. Otherwise you'll end up all alone.

You'd tried to take their advice, of course. But the relationships that were fathered your parents direction were not loving. There was nothing soft or gentle or warm about them. You'd never felt more unlovable.

So when the incident with the shooter happened and you were lying on the lecture hall floor, blood coloring the carpet deep scarlet, you'd vowed to never let it happen again. That you were going to use your intellect and wit and passion for what you wanted to do- you'd promised yourself that if you survived, you would try to make your life your own, one step at a time.

This, of course, is easier said than done.

It's easy enough to refuse to let yourself get involved with men who are clearly only interested in your for your badge or your body --though the latter happens so rarely you really don't have to worry about it-- because you don't care about them. They're blips on your radar.

But Spencer? Sweet, sweet Spencer who makes you hot-cocoa and binge watches Doctor Who with you, even the later seasons, which you know he doesn't like as much but you love. Spencer who always has a grounding touch to offer, or a quiet command when you need him. Spencer who puts you first.

But there's a limit to these things, right? As far as you've seen, romantic relationship's are transactional, or conditional. Sometimes both. He can't just... keep doing this forever. It's too kind. Too sweet. It'll come to an end soon. Like, like the honeymoon era in early relationships. That's all it is. Plus, he's older than you, and you have no illusions about your unavoidable impulsiveness and naivety.

You've been told that your standards are too high before. "Struck by the hopeless romantic's arrow," your brother had said once, back when you were still in school, crying over a boy who'd told you that he didn't want to date you because you were too smart for a girl.

"That's not being hopeless romantic. There's no such thing as being too smart for a girl."

"There isn't," He'd amended, "But you're not going to have an easy time finding a guy. You of all people can't really afford to be picky."

He'd been right, in the end. So you're just... having a hard time figuring out how genuine Spencer's actions are. Guy's don't really act all romantic in the context of you. You've been told your whole life to be happy with what you get, and what you've had in the past is decidedly not lining up with how Spencer treats you.

It's a nasty little thing in your ear. Is it real? Does it matter as much to him?

When is it all going to end?

--

Rossi make's an offhand comment during a mission that you talk a lot when you're excited about the subject at hand.

JJ agrees. "It's a little unnerving when the subject is the bruising patterns of strangulation."

That little voice comes back.

Too much too much too much too much too much--

"It's useful," You protest, mouth dry.

JJ snorts, "I'm not sure about that. We need to know that the victim was strangled, not what happens to the body during blunt-force asphyxiation."

You'd grown quiet then, let the chatter and musings of the rest of the team wash over you.

Is that something Spencer finds annoying? You have always found things other's view morbid and disturbing fascinating. But JJ is right. No one wants to hear about that.

You brush the comment off, square your shoulders, get back on with the case.

Be better. Try harder.

You don't seen the furrow of Spencer's brows from where he's been watching you, or the quick look he shares with Hotch.

--

You'd never really thought about how clingy you can be before Emily makes an offhand comment about it while the two of you wait in line at a coffee shop. There's a couple in front of you, the girl all over her partner, kissing and giggling and hugging them close.

"Ugh," Emily groans once the two get their coffee and move on. "I could never understand the appeal of all that. I mean doesn't it feel stifling?"

A little stab of ice in your stomach.

"I don't know. I think it's nice."

"No, thank you. If I were her partner, I'd feel smothered."

You think about that conversation every time you take Spencer's hand or lean into his simple touches. They're invasive little things, the thoughts. It's not hard to pull back on all the touching. You never really ask for them in the first place- always too nervous to come off clingy. But you suppose just taking, taking, taking is just the same.

A quick shake of your head, not leaning in, a quiet "I'm fine." and that little nagging fear of smothering begins to quiet. It doesn't leave, but it does get quieter. For a little while, at least.

--

The hard part is trying to be less without noticeably being less. Spencer's smart- and he's a profiler. If you pull back too much too quickly, he'll notice, and you don't want to talk about this yet. You just need to make sure he'll stay. That things won't—

That you won't find out too late that you don't mean as much to him as he does to you.

That's the kind of thing that can't happen again. But ascertaining his true feelings and desires is difficult, because this is all kind's of new territory for you. You want to believe it's real. You really, really want to believe it's real.

But it's never been real before, so why would it be real now?

--

You've asked around (subtly and carefully, of course) about the type of girl Spencer's dated or drifted towards in the past. You know he said he wanted something soft and sweet, but you can't help but think that you're not really either, nor are you in line with his type. All things considered, you're a mess. Something tired-eyed and hollow is how you feel most days. Some sort of creature perhaps? You're honestly not sure what you are. You've spent your entire life being singled out or otherwise othered- always too smart or too different or too weird or too much or too loud or too quiet or too shy or too, too, too. Always too something. You have never been called soft or sweet. In a demeaning way, sure, but never with the quiet reverence that Spencer said it with that night.

It feels like a balancing act, a bit. Holding all those too much parts so close to your chest with one hand and shoving the ones you think Spencer wants with the other hand.

You could probably drop the one hand. The one holding the bad parts. But you're just not convinced he'll stay. You're not sure that he won't look at them with some form of disgust or pity or something else terrible.

You know the balancing act isn't sustainable— you'll fall eventually, and everything will come crashing down, but until then, you just keep trying. Trying to see if he'll stay, trying to see what to do if he won't. How to ensure he will, if that's something that's possible.

--

The act does not hold up for as long as you hoped it would. It comes crashing down with a glass. Literally.

You and Spencer are in the kitchen on a rare weekend off, cooking and drinking wine and swaying to some little old love song.

It should be perfect, except you're worrying that you look ugly while you're dancing, and you're probably singing off-key, and he maybe wants you to shut up so he can hear the song or dance in peace.

He reaches towards you and you just— your brain shrieks for a moment, all senses going into overdrive and you jerk backward, and your elbow knocks into your wine glass, and it falls, shattering behind you with a deafening crash.

Your entire body tenses, waiting for yelling or sighing or something, because you broke the glass, there's crystalline shards everywhere, the wine red and it looks like blood, maybe it is, maybe you're bleeding because the glass was really close to your foot when it fell but you're not sure because you can't really feel your feet or your fingers or—

"Don't move," Spencer says, voice serious, and tears well in your eyes, because this is when it all ends isn't it? "I don't want you to— honey?"

"Yes?" You croak.

His eyes are swimming with concern as he takes in your hunched shoulders, shallow breaths, and scared expression.

Understanding flickers in his features, and you resist the urge to hold your breath.

"Nothing is going to happen to you because of the glass, okay? Everything is fine. We're fine. I'm not mad. See? I'm not mad. I just don't want you to cut your feet on the glass. I'm going to clean this up and get your slippers, okay?"

"Okay." You breathe, voice hoarse. You wring your hands nervously as he leaves to retrieve the necessary supplies to clean the mess, heart beating so fast and so hard you're shocked you can't see it through your shirt.

He's not mad. He's not mad. You're not in trouble. Your parents aren't here. You're not grounded. You're not in trouble. He's not mad.

You're silent while he cleans, focused on getting your breathing under control while he babbles quietly about the history of glass making and the significance of types of wine glasses. The facts and history wash over you in steady waves, easing the tension in your shoulders bit by bit.

"I didn't think you were going to hit me, Spencer."

He continues cleaning. "It's okay if you did. I would never blame you for that."

"But I don't," You say, suddenly desperate, "I know you wouldn't, I've never been hit, not like that."

He's quiet for a few minutes. "Does this have something to do with how you've been acting recently?"

You freeze. "What do you mean?"

He looks up, leaning back on his knees. Making himself smaller, you realize. He's trying not to scare you again.

"You're dating a profiler. Also, I speak fluent you, and you've been chewing all your hangnails again. You only do that when you're stressed and pretending like you're not."

Your finger's twitch at your sides.

His hands come up slowly, and he rubs the length of your waist and hips. "We don't have to talk about it right now, but I think we should soon. I don't want you hurting all by yourself. You've had enough of that. That's what I'm here for."

He finishes cleaning up the glass, and finishes cooking dinner- he'd assured you he'd turned off all burners when the glass hit the floor, so nothing's burnt.

Once you've both eaten, he steers you towards the couch and wordlessly puts on Doctor Who.

The Pandorica is just about to open when you finally decide that if you don't start talking, you never will.

"My parents think you're going to leave me."

Spencer makes a wounded noise in his throat. "Why do they think that?"

"Because it's happened before. I'm, um. I'm not very good at getting into relationships. Or keeping them."

"But that's not your fault."

You sniff hard, rubbing your face with your sleeve. "It is though, isn't it? At least a little. I know I can be a lot. I know I'm not easy to—"

You cut yourself off, but the words hang in the air anyway; unsaid.

I'm not easy to love.

"Anyway," You say, pushing through the lump in your throat. "I just thought. I don't know. I was worried that you'd get fed up with me."

"No," He whispers, voice raw and full of something a lot heavier than fond. "No, no baby. I like that you're clingy and you ramble when you get excited, because it means that we get to talk about something together."

He shifts on the couch, sitting criss-crossed, ducking his head down to catch your gaze. "You know what else I like?"

You scoot over, mirroring his position. "What?"

"I like that you always know when I need you. Even when I don't think I do, you're there. Because I do need you. This isn't a one-way street."

His words hit you straight in your chest. "Oh."

He smiles, brows a little scrunched, brown eyes a deep pool of fondness and a splash of concern. "Yeah. And I'm thinking you need me a little more than you want to let on."

The seam of your pajama pants suddenly becomes the most interesting thing in the world. Amazing, the wonders of a sewing machine.

"Maybe."

"Mmm," He hums, "So if I need you, don't you think that you're allowed to need me?"

Your fingers pick and twirl a loose thread around. "...Yes?"

A large, firm hand covers your thigh, giving it a quick squeeze. "Yes. Not only are you allowed to need me, I want you to need me. Cause you know how you're always worried about being the best girlfriend? Well, I'm always worried about being the best boyfriend."

That makes you look up. "Really?"

He chuckles again, a little puff of air fanning your face. "Yes, really. I assure you, contrary to your past experiences, this is one of those bare minimum things in a relationship."

"That does not," He continues, immediately catching the brief flicker of doubt and shame on your face, "Mean that it is your fault at all for how you were treated in the past. You wouldn't expect me to suddenly become an expert in veterinary medicine just because I've been to the vet's office a few times, right?"

"When did you go to the vet's—"

"Shh, I'm being a good boyfriend," He holds up a hand, lips quirking up when you can't suppress a tiny giggle, "But seriously. You had no frame of reference, right? And you were being told it was your fault. But it wasn't. You didn't deserve that."

He lets his words hang in the air for a little while and allows you time to process this new information.

"What do I do now?"

"Well," He leans in, brushing his nose against yours, curls tickling your forehead, "You've got a pretty sweet deal here. Just three things. You have to keep letting me need you, let yourself need me, and one last little thing."

"What?"

You're so close your breaths are mingling.

"Let me show you what this is supposed to look like. How a man is supposed to treat a pretty girl. His pretty girl."

"Oh, well," Heat rushes to your cheeks, your stomach doing flip-flops, "That sounds pretty hard. I don't know how I'll hold up."

His hand comes up to hold the side of your face, his thumb sweeping strokes under your eye.

"You say that now, but I know what happens to you when I get romantic. You swoon."

You laugh. "I do not swoon."

"You will."

He leans down, capturing your lips in a soft, gentle kiss. It isn't a kiss-kiss. He's kissing you just to kiss you; just to let you know that he's here, that you have him.

It's sweet and perfect and exactly what you need.

--

Letting yourself need Spencer is marginally easier now that you know he needs you. Now that you know you're not going all in for someone who isn't.

He also starts needing you a bit... louder.

It's late evening, and most people have gone home except you and a couple other members of the team, all still working on paperwork.

Except Spencer, who's decided to drape himself over your shoulders like a cat, his chin resting on your head.

"Don't you have work to do?"

"Either finished it or it can be done later."

You shift your shoulders, smiling at how his grumbles vibrate against your back.

He moves his head, pressing his cheek to your head instead of his chin, heaving a deep sigh.

"Your hair smells good."

"Like what?"

"You're shampoo. Yours always smell better than mine."

You continue to work through your paperwork, Spencer a continuous and solid weight against your back.

"Is this even comfortable for your back at all?"

"Doesn't matter. Need girlfriend time."

He can't see it, but you're sure he knows how hard you blush.

--

Spencer's cooking the two of you a late breakfast in the kitchen of his apartment, hair still all mussed from sleep. He's quite the sight. You can't stop staring.

You're sitting on the counter, still dressed in your pajamas, legs swinging.

"You wanna know something cool?"

"You know it,"

"Butterflies and moths can drink blood and tears. There's nutrients in them. Purple Emperor butterflies are especially known for this. It's called mud-puddling."

"So you're telling me I should make sure I bandage any open wounds before I go to a butterfly house?"

"I guess. I can't imagine they'd be able to drink enough blood to actually cause any damage."

"Maybe we'll have to go to a butterfly house. For research."

"Should we get dinner afterwards?"

"We'll deserve it, you know, for all the hard research we'll have done."

"Hmm. Yes, I suppose so."

--

Spencer's bed is infinitely more comfortable than your bed. You're pretty sure it's a combination of the fact that it's the only thing in the entire world that smells so much like him and the fact that he spent part of his large FBI paycheck on a fancy mattress. Back support is very important to him.

You're doing a little reading before bed, shamelessly sprawled all over him while he does his own reading. You've got a leg hooked over his hips, the other tangled with his legs, and your arms and head pillowed on his chest. You move a little every time he takes a breath, and more than once you've paused in your reading, mesmerized by the feeling.

He shifts under you, setting his book down on his night stand and making himself more comfortable.

"Should I move?"

"No," he says, voice deep and gravelly with sleep. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you flush to him, face pressed to the crook of your neck. He breathes deep, scruffy stubble scratching against your skin. "Like you close. Good for sleep."

Even with the lamp on, and your book in your hand, you fall asleep soon after him.

--

It's an ordinary evening for the two of you. Discarded dishes sit on the coffee table in front of the t.v, neither of you paying them any attention, wrapped up in each other and eyes glued to the screen.

You look up at Spencer who's watching Doctor Who with the focus of a man who's never seen it, even though you know for a fact he's seen it before, several times in fact.

"I want to know the things you like," He'd said simply, the one time you'd asked why he takes your nightly Doctor Who watching so seriously.

And tonight's no different. Tonight, he looks... well, he looks like Spencer. His face illuminated by the TV screen, his hair all mussed from you running your hands through it earlier.

And it just kind of all hits you at once. You know.

"I love you."

He looks down at you, his expression soft and surprised. When your words register, his expression is so sickeningly fond and happy you can't help but lean in, burying your face in his chest. He rubs your back consolingly, then presses a little kiss to the crown of your head.

"I love you too."

⋆⭒˚.⋆

taglist: @topsecret101 @slowdownpal @leeknowpegger @sunbl3achedfly @hiireadstuff @paige0103 @private190104 @beautyb1ade @coraline-jones353 @pleasenter-sandman @sttvrdustt @gluchie @thomasintheshadows @dessamira1001 @bbleeeeh @hufflely-puffly @bippityboppityboob1tch @buggys-space @redxfangirl @liauchiha147 @dreaming-potato @meandyoulollz @jobrosimp

[nsfwruru]

top payer!huh yunjin(g!p) x OF!reader

hear me out… yunjin as your biggest supporter on OF, and that she’s your top payer to the point you want to get to know her. only for her to beg you to do a video collab so she can fuck your cute little face. she’s just a fein for head!!!!!😣

cw: filthy smut(masturbation, cum eating, use of videotaping, Yunjin receiving), porn with some plot, not proofread,, use of ‘S/N’ for “screen/name”

You didn’t know anyone in the industry, maybe a few faces here and there, but no one quite noticeable, well maybe due in part that you where a faceless content creator. Not much was known about you, other than the occasional kinks and preferences you’d naturally post under your frequent photoshoots. Having “fans” didn’t help much either, they all just so happened to have tacky screen names that hid their true identity— Well, that was the case until you came across an account that would frequently pay for extra access to your photos, with her name and face plastered onto her casual viewing account.

“huh yunjin” it displayed, the username just being ‘yunnnnjin” something that’s just so intriguing, since you never really saw anyone so proud to display that they looked around the website. Honestly it was really just a pleasant surprise knowing someone was actually human looking through your photos, and occasional videos. Also the fact that she was absolutely stunning in her profile picture kinda made you suspicious, wondering if this could be a bot. I mean, her dark red hair, which complimented her big brown eyes and plump lips, it was all too good to be true!

The only reason you ever believed that this was a real person running this account was the amount of payments she made. It was absolutely absurd! Not only was she paying for literally all the extra spicy photos you posted— but it came to the point she went out of her way to make excess payments just for the hell of it! Your debit card was absolutely popping every single business day with more and more installments that this Yunjin girl sent you. Of course, you were a high paid model, who wracked up 40-50k a month, but honestly even how much she was paying you was too much.

And the weirdest part of it was she was paying thousands to ten thousand every week, without even a single comment or peep from her. Someone with that kind of spending habits must be someone who has some weird parasocial relationship… right?

Wrong!

It was always apparent that she kept a safe distance, never reaching out or demanding more raunchy photos from you, it just seemed like she was a viewer enjoying the content from afar. The idea of her doing this was perplexing, when people who sent far less on your photos where demanding far more than her. It was in some odd way, endearing to you. Coming to the point where you wanted to reach out to her and just get to know the woman who was practically paying your bills at this point. Not wanting to sound like a creep, you silently slid into her chat box with her, and sent a message. (Only for her to reply in a heartbeat.)

you: “Hey I saw you paying so much on my content thank you so much!”

yunnnnjin: “hi”

yunnnnjin: “yeah np, ur very beautiful”

you: “thank u sm!”

you: “I don’t want to sound ungrateful but why do you always pay extra? you don’t have to >_>”

yunnnnjin: “ah.. i just find you stunning”

you: “your my biggest supporter thank you!”

yunnnnjin: “this might be a weird question to ask, and I’m not demanding anything from you.”

you: “hm??”

yunnnnjin: “but can we film a collab”

staring right at your computer, your reading glasses was slowly falling down your face as you opened your jaw in disbelief. Did she seriously just say that? After mere minutes of meeting? What the fuck? So maybe she wasn’t any better than a man because what the hell just happened. You thought maybe you could trust her, believe that she wasn’t one of those entitled fans who felt the need to claim every inch of you, but I guess not. Honestly you felt disgusted she could ask this so quickly, but a morbid curiosity filled your mind, this could be a perfect way to make a little more money.

yunnnnjin: “sorry that was weird”

yunnnnjin: “i shouldn’t have said anything im sorry”

you: “… do u have a photo of ur face, like a video or something you can record right now so I know what I’m working with.”

*Yunjin sent 5 video attachments*

Admittedly you were scared to open the files she sent you, maybe this was all a prank and some sick friend was pulling this on you. But something just drew you in as you hovered your mouse on the reveal bar, clicking the photos, the blur was lifted and you were greeted with plethora of videos to look at. From first glance everything seemed to check out, but you wanted to make sure she didn’t just snag these from the internet.

The first video included her in a soft white robe, someone clearly putting makeup on her plush skin as she sat down. Humming a tune in the background that was oddly familiar to you, maybe a little too familiar.

The other 3 videos included her doing such mindless task like doing her make up, drinking coffee, even dancing to the beat of the music. But that’s not what interested you the most, what you gravitated toward was the video, with the first few frames being her face scrunched up, closing her eyes at her screen.

Playing the video, you were greeted by muffled groans, and the sound of skin rubbing against one another, almost in a rhythmic motion. As each time the skin glided across the other, she would let out the most intense moan, pleading with someone in front of the camera. Her eyes darting towards the scream as her mouth opened slightly, not clocking what she was doing until her moans became so loud, that the speakers on your computer started vibrating. Oh! She’s jacking off! While recording herself! How interesting!

That’s not what caught your eye though, it’s when she brung the camera down to the base of her thighs, propping the camera behind her thick perched up cock as she started rubbing it up and down. Her moans turning into pleading as she called out your screen name repeatedly, begging for her release like she was imagining it was your hands around her girth. She was far too much for you— to the point watching the precum dribble from the slit of her member made your skin crawl. You wished it was you making her feel that way, so you decided to continue watching until she reached her climax. Watching her hands slide up and down, quickening the pace and using her cum as leverage to fuck herself using her palm, made you go crazy. It wasn’t until she reached her maximum, as her legs buckled up slightly with her back arched cumming all over the screen. The bed squeaking as she fucked her hands aggressively to reach that climax she-oh-so desired. Your name rolling of her tounge so naturally as “fuckin’ so good” and “shit”, was mixed into it.

you: “wow”

you: “so you are real.”

yunnnnjin: “haha sorry if that last video is weird jst wanted u to know how much i want to collab”

you: “make sense, uhhhhhh i think we can, do u have an address?”

yunnnnjin: “perfect, and here’s my address, but tell me if you ever come over I’ll plan everything ahead”

You might’ve been sick in the head, because now you stood rooted in place standing in front of the door of her apartment. For all you knew she could’ve been a perverted killer on the loose, but seeing that video of her changed the trajectory of your life.

Knocking on the door, you heard someone stumble over themselves as the reached the door with a thud. A small groan escaping from a woman’s lips as she hurriedly pried the door open, your heartbeat racing. Finally as she opened the door, you met her brown gaze as her red hair fell gently over her face and covered a lot of her defining features. “You actually came.” Yunjin taking all of you in, being surprised that it was actually you as you covered your face with a black mask. Without warning she dragged your wrist and lead you into her nicely decorated apartment. All of her decor being of welloff brands and photos of her with 4 or sometimes 5 other girls.

She dragged you over to her bedroom, only to be met with professional lighting setups, cameras and other video recording tools set all around. She was clearly a little too prepared for her own good, down to the box of condoms that sat nicely on-top of the black bedsheets. “I got this all for you— I’m sorry if this is too much, but I didn’t know what else to do when you gave me this opportunity.” Tilting your head in confusion as from your knowledge she must’ve gotten all this equipment recently, since nothing about her profile said “model” or “photographer.”

“Ah thank you but you didn’t need to do all of that, besides I brought my video camera with me for a reason.” You insisted pulling out the black bag inside your even bigger gym back, showing her the camera as you slid it out. She stared back at you, her cheeks flushed in embarrassment as she looked back at everything she had prepared, mentally cursing herself when she should’ve know that you’d bring something fancy. “Oh this is a shame—“

“It’s fine, if you have everything set up, we can use this instead of what I’m using now, it’s probably better quality anyways.” And so you did, you began recording the first few clips, just some lingerie shots with Yunjin, or photographs with her tongue pressed agonist parts of your body. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, but watching her boxers press up against your stomach, feeling her stiffened cock onto your tummy, made you feral. Greatful that you wore a face mask to cover your true identity, because with out it you’d be drooling by the contact of her boxers.

Thankfully, after snapping some promiscuous photos of the both of you, Yunjin offered to take some solo shots of you. This type without your top out, something that was so natural for you to do, made Yunjin’s breath hitch as your breast pooled into the free air. Fuck, you didn’t know how much she wanted to touch you right now, to have your nipple in her mourn while she played with your other breast. Or fucking your face and letting her precious cum fall down your chin and down to your chest. As the camera clicked on and on, her mind was too preoccupied with thoughts of fucking you mindlessly. Having her cum all over the nastiest parts of your body, while you scream her name all day long. And finally ripping off that black mask you used to cover your adorable face with so she could spurt all over you.

It took you a few minutes— actually almost half an hour to tell that her hardened cock was pressing even harder against her fabric, begging to be let out. As her mind drifted in and out of reality, you tried your best to snap her out of trance with no avail. “Yunjin—“ You called out her name once, “Yunjin?” A second time as you inched closer to her in your kneeling position, looking up at her soft gaze as she stared down at you. Before you could say her name one last time you where faced up, inches apart her hard member, looking up at her with, those, eyes.

Yunjin didn’t respond, not for a long time, her hands reaching out to your hair as she continued to click some more photos. Tangling her delicate slim fingers into your hair, taking more and more photos as you called out to her. “Fuck, S/N, you look so good” She mumbled, taking her hands out of your hair to pinch your cheeks up to give her your whole attention. Her breathing heavy as she watched your even movement, and how your face masked heaved up and down as she did so. “Can I fuck you princess, please— please let me use your pretty mouth baby.” Yunjin murmured, pulling her hands away from you as she held the waistband of her boxers.

Without any second thought, you brung your hands up and yanking it off of her, not wanting to admit that you wanted this more than her. As her boxers slid off so easily, you could see her cock take its place as it sprung up, the sheer size of it hitting her stomach as she had a painful erection.

It took you in awe for a few moments, the both of you not doing anything as you stared at her member, while she looked down at you in anticipation. “Holy shit— uh, can you get the video camera then?” You asked while Yunjin shook her head vigorously, tripping over herself to fully take off everything and grab the video taping camera on the side table. Running back, she began recording and pointing the camera down at you, indicating that the shot was already rolling.

You lifted your mask a little bit to place the head of her pink cock to the edge of your lips, placing the mask over, giving her little kitten licks as you do so. The sudden contact of your mouth on her most sensitive part made her let out the dirtiest moan, and bring her free hand to tangle it in your hair. “Fuck, that felt so nice baby.” She groaned out, petting your hair as you continued to bring your mouth to the base. The sheer size of it making you tear up, unable to handle how much you had to put in.

Yunjin was getting off to this, getting off to your gagging, getting off to the feeling of your small mouth around her dick, just getting off to the idea of you. “Is it— hah, too big princess?” She breathed out as she buckled her waist, pushing you to deep throat her thick cock. Leaving you to gag even more as she was pressing up against you, the tip off your nose touching her pelvis as she brung you deeper down. The sounds of your muffled gagging gave her more leverage to fist your hair and fuck into you. Letting dribbles of cum and salvia accumulate as drizzle down your chin. Luckily the mask you wore was able the cover the lewd juices leaking out from you mouth as you took her all.

Bobbing your head back and fourth, her fist was still clawing at your hair as she fucked your most so nicely. “Fuck— fuck…” She groaned, her dick writing in your mouth as you hummed, “mpfh” letting the vibrations of your voice to leave a nice sensation around her. Your tongue swirling around in circles, nose touching her pelvis as hot air coming from your nose sent shivers down her spine. From the way her hips where proceeding to buckle clearly indicated that she was close to climaxing.

With a few more thrusts into your mouth in an almost apathetic way, without any hesitation— she released all of her salty seed into your mouth. Slowing pulling away as she swayed the rest of her cum inside, the lose of contact made a popping noise. “Shit.” Yunjin examined how good you looked as she slowly pulled off your mask, to admire the cum and saliva dribbling down your mouth. Ripping her hands away from your hair, she placed her thumb on where the main stream of liquid resided, and pushed everything back into your mouth. “Swallow it up.” Yunjin demanded, watching you make a show out of it, going as far as to open your mouth after you finished. “Mm, good girl.”

urgahfhhhh I was gonna add so much more but after this I got drained smh. full on smut sex scene cummin’ up when I feel like it LOL!!!!

[pomefioredove]

Omg hiii! I saw that your requests were open again! Please take your time and prioritize your rest, and as always your writing is such a delight to read! I always look forward to your posts! 💖💖💖

That being said, can you please write for a Yuu/reader that has a love for painting (but is shy about showcasing their skill) , and was absolutely taken by Vil's beauty even before they met him? Of course they didn't know that he was a famous actor at first. What if Vil one day finds their sketches and paintings of him after months of knowing him? (hmm preferably after the events of book 6..? 👀)

SO CUTE!!! kicking my legs back and forth at this anonnn

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ the picture of vil schoenheit

type of post: short fic characters: vil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

How were you supposed to know?

It's not like Crowley had given you a guide on Night Raven College or its students (though, wouldn't that have been nice?)

I mean, you had to reminded of Trey's last name not two weeks ago. How were you supposed to know who Vil Schoenheit is?

You'd only seem him at a distance. Passed him by in the halls while he scolded some poor first year. He even looked beautiful when he was angry.

He was just made to be painted.

You didn't show your friends the art. You didn't need to give Ace another reason to tease you, and being a stalker would've really been the cherry on top of your weirdness sundae.

Besides, it was just drawing. Practice! Sketches from a distance, doodles done in the margins of your notes, watercolors and paintings from memory...

It felt familiar. This man, this stranger, someone you hadn't even spoken to, made you feel a little closer to home.

.

"Really, you should have some sort of organizational system,"

Vil leafs through pages of alchemy reports and history of magic homework. "Might I suggest a recycling bin?"

You smile. It's not often that your friend- Vil Schoenheit, that is- has a day off. But today is Saturday, and your room is in desperate need of his touch.

"This is... chaotic," he says, brushing a clump of Grim fur off his shoulder. "And you live like this?"

You shrug. "I try,"

"Well, try no more. We'll have this done before dinner,"

His commitment is touching. Millions of screeching fangirls would give anything just to spend five minutes with Vil, and here he is, tidying your room for you.

It's almost cute. He's humming to himself, hair tied back in a ponytail, in one of your shirts (his are too nice to get dirty), sweeping Grim fur out from under your bed.

"Rook and Epel couldn't make it?" you ask, pretending not to care that it's just the two of you.

"I told them not to bother,"

"Oh?"

Vil tsks. "They would get in the way. We're much more efficient on our own- we work well together, after all,"

That's something he'd said before. You'd always wondered what it meant.

"Right,"

You switch places, going to strip your bed of its sheets for washing while Vil tidies your desk.

Off go the pillow cases, the comforter, the blankets. You're wrestling with your mattress when you notice that he hasn't moved in a while.

He's looking through some of the papers from within the bowels of your desk, smiling to himself, a finger held to his perfect lips.

"What?"

"Hm?" he hums, but he doesn't look at you. "Oh, just... admiring your work. You have quite an eye for detail, have I ever told you that?"

He's being weird. You let go of your bundle of bedding and look at what he's holding, but it's just your sketchbook.

Oh. Oh, no. It's your sketchbook.

"OH! Um, wait-" you say, rushing to his side. "Don't- don't look!"

Vil smirks, and he holds the art over your head. "How unfair. The muse should always be the first to see, you know,"

Damn his height and perfect, slender arms!!! Your eyes widen. "It's not what it looks like! I didn't know you when I did those!"

"Yes, I saw the dates. You could make a career out of admiring me, you know~" he chuckles. "I'd pay for these. I'm sure Rook would like a few, as well."

You're practically melting with embarrassment. "Come on- give it back!"

Seeing your pathetic, embarrassed whining, Vil relents, handing you the sketchbook with an eye-roll.

"What are you ashamed of? They're fine pieces,"

"It's not that," you clutch the book to your chest. "It's just- uh- weird, isn't it?"

Vil scoffs. "I'm weird?"

"NO! I meant- I didn't even know you, and I drew you almost every day- that isn't... strange?"

He takes a moment to study you, your body language, the embarrassed look on your face. From head to toe. And then he smiles, warmly.

"I am in a dorm with Rook. There are very, very few things that I find strange now. You admire me- I'm flattered,"

He gingerly takes sketchbook out of your arms and opens it again. "Not to mention, you have an artistic eye that any director would kill for."

You stand there, a little dumbfounded, but mostly very, very grateful that he's your friend, and that you can laugh about this together.

"I'm... well... thank you," you finally say.

Vil smirks, and pinches your cheek. "You're precious. Now, back to work. I want this room over with. These paintings won't frame themselves, will they?"

[allthegothihopgirls]

alfred, who writes in a journal every day unbeknownst to the bats.

alfred, who's journals aren't marked by a period of time, or his own age, instead by the names of those he looks after. when dick is first adopted, and he knows this change is permanent, he puchases a new journal, despite his existing one being only 2/3 full. this one has a simple 'richard' written with a gold accent on the cover, a change from the last 8, titled 'bruce'.

alfred, who somehow makes journaling more of a logbook, albeit still personal. he's writing about himself, sure. memories of old friends, his travels, stories he's heard, things he has experienced.

but he mainly writes of them, the things they do, how they act. their character quirks that they haven't even picked up on yet themselves. the things he wishes he could tell them as a parent, instead of butler. the things they should know about those who've come before them. the regrets he has, and changes he's making. how they've molded him into a new person.

alfred, who will take all this information to the grave. until then, they stay packed in their respective boxes, some dustier than others, in the back of his wardrobe in the manor.

the contents of those journals aren't specific to each kid. everyone's within those pages. in tim's there's a lot about jason, and damian's has a lot about bruce. nothing's overly invasive in them, and the furthest it strays from the truth is when sometimes alfred admits to believing a different set of events to whatever he's been told, and even then he's probably right.

jason, who receives his journals prematurely. there's only 2, there should have been more. it's painfully obvious the cutoff, how it wasn't supposed to end there, but still it did. he receives them post-resurrection, convinced he doesn't belong in the world. his memories of robin growing fogged and becoming twisted.

he reads them and he cries, maybe it's because he forgot how much good there was in those times, or maybe it's because that's the determining moment in his new life where he decides that he really deserves and wants to live, because his existence runs deeper than being the robin who died.

frankly it's quite jarring for jason, to read about himself from another's perspective. as much as i love the idea of him and alfred getting along the best out of all the kids, he definitely distances himself for a while to process everything. he slowly creeps back though.

no one else gets to read their share until alfred's gone, and when they do it goes unspoken, no one pries to know anything outside of their dedicated journals.

jason, after hesitance and much internal conflict, drops off his own on dick's nightstand one night. receiving them back, two weeks later, is a silent affair face-to-face.

tim, similarly, on no one's accord but his own, gives jason his, to keep. he says something about how he doesn't think they were ever about him, and they seemed much more like a sequel. he also apologises, and mentions how he almost felt like he was intruding on something. but he understands now, he doesn't clarify about what.

[madwomansapologist]

ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ a hound left without a leash

★彡 synopsis: your love is constant, ever-present and ever-growing. toji finds it endearing. how you're not afraid of being soft around him. but he can’t be like that. his love isn't gentle and quiet like yours: it's remorseless, made of sharp fangs soaked in blood—five times toji felt loved by you, five times he loved you back.

content warnings: established relationship, fluff & angst & smut, domesticity, movie night, toji is soooo in love it's embarrassing, touch starved meet clingy, he's bad at feelings don't give him space, devotion, beach date, hurt/comfort, his love language is acts of service it's not his fault he only knows how to kill, violence (not towards reader), gaslight if you squint, voyeurism, sex toy, manhandling, lots of spit and bites and scratches, creampie, cockwarming.

bella's note: inspired by the song valentine by laufey. y'all say thank you, @gothsuguru for making like three posts about toji that reminded me of my love for this deadbeat killer.

word count: [4.3K]

(It took Toji by surprise the first time he noticed it.)

Toji tried to focus on the action movie—clearly made with no aspiration beyond gathering as much money as possible. He really did. Before learning the bland protagonist’s name, heavy eyelids and comfy blankets came together with a sickening plan to betray his determination.

There was no movie to pretend to watch by the time Toji woke up. The television was turned off, the living room silent if not by his untamed heartbeat. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, blurs turning into discernible shapes, Toji breathed no more.

Only after seeing it on the television that Toji was able to feel it on his body. Fingertips running through his still-damp hair, thumb pressing softly against his temple. A constant movement, warm and calm. It made him think about waves in an empty shore.

A contained laughter guided his eyes away from the screen. Leaning on your shoulder, Toji saw you. Eyes narrowing at your phone, undoubtedly fighting to stay open, the tip of your tongue between your parted lips. Caressing his hair, you nibbled on your tongue.

For you, it was an old habit you couldn’t get rid of. For Toji, it was a telltale of your concentration.

Once he learned there was a way to read you, Toji aimed to collect all your telltales. He has all those little signals memorized to translate your behaviors into something he can fully understand. Into something he can transforming into actions.

Distant gaze means hesitation, which in turn means say something, anything, goddamnit. Trembling lips and fervent rage, scrunched nose and jealousy, discreet smiles and nauseating happiness. Toji could fill libraries with everything there is to know about you.

Staring at the soft muscle, Toji knew what your concentration required from him: silence, just for a while. Toji gave you what you needed, hoping somehow you knew what he meant by it—I love you, I love you, I love you.

Wondering about what you needed him to do for you Toji didn’t even notice your nails scratching behind his ears, where you knew he’s sensitive enough to melt into your palm. If he had, maybe Toji would’ve fallen asleep on your shoulder again and rest properly for once.

Toji can’t remember the name of the movie that lulled him to sleep. If he was at your home, if it was late at night, if it was during an unexpected blizzard. Toji can only remember that your eyes weren’t on him, and your touch was gentle.

Scrolling endlessly as you kept him awake, Toji thought once more about how soft your skin is when compared to his. It lacked scars. You lack roughness, precision, disgust. All those things Toji once believed being an adult meant: you don’t have any of them.

(The first time he noticed your love was gentle and quiet, Toji didn’t knew how to react.)

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

(Obviously, Toji never lets you win.)

“Just throw me, Toji”, you practically meowed his name. When he completely ignored your presence, you pinched his cheek. Toji took a deep breath. “Please. Pretty please.”

Your cold hands cupped his cheeks, trying to get Toji to look at you. Pouting, plush bottom lip on display, you stared at him through your lashes. You knew it would take one look at you for him to fold and give in.

He slipped away from your hold, so fast you only noticed he was gone when Toji was already laying down on your beach sarong. That made you giggle. He does that all the time. Moves faster than your eyes can comprehend.

It’s so alluring you couldn’t even force yourself to get mad over Toji mistaking your new sarong for a sheet.

“Brat, I’ve told ya”, he tilted his head back. Toji rest his arm over his head, in a not-so-subtle way of ensuring he wouldn’t accidentally sneak a glance at you. Toji could feel on his bones that you were pouting. “I’m not doing that.”

Maybe because you both went on a whim to a beach on a random tuesday, maybe because this one isn’t as popular as you feared, it was truly a peaceful day. No kids running around, no loud music blasting through someone else’s phone, no drunks yelling just because.

It’s so close from being a perfect day, now all you need is to hear Toji saying yes, darling, anything for you. Not that you ever heard that before. At least, not worded like that.

With a melodramatic sigh, you walked to where your stuff was. Searching among all the bags tossed around, you found just what would change his mind. As your malignant plan developed inside of your mind, a grin spread across your face.

Sitting on his lap, your soaked thighs clamped around Toji’s thick waist. Sighing once more, you rolled your hips with the poor excuse of searching for a more comfortable position. Warm fingers pressed down on his hips; nails close enough to ghost over his happy trail.

“Behave”, Toji groaned, free hand closing around your hip. He easily held you in place. You smelled like salt and malice. “I won’t change my mind.”

You bent over Toji, soaked bikini pressing down against his toned chest. Scratching his forearm, you brushed your nose against his cheek. “Can I try to convince you?”, you whispered sultry against his ear.

Softening his hold on you, Toji smirked. “You’re a fucking menace.”

Splash.

Pouring cold water on his face, you took advantage of his surprised state to run away while you’re still able to. Laughing more than you could breathe, you tilted your head back to look at Toji. “Now tell me something I don’t know.”

Just like you expected, Toji looked at you.

Just like you always forget, Toji was fast. Really, really fast.

Colliding with his chest, you frowned as your mind processed that Toji was right in front of you. As a pair of arms wrapped around your waist, you knew there was nothing you could do to escape his grip. You tried to anyway.

“That’s cheating”, you yelled. It made him laugh like hell, chest vibrating against your stomach. Lifted up far above the ground, you moved your feet uselessly. “It’s so unfair, you need to let me win sometimes too!”

A slap against your ass shut you up. “Annoying brat”, Toji threw you over his shoulders. You tried to squirm away, but decided to settle for just complaining once he bit your thigh. “As if. You can earn your victory or stop acting like a bored cat for once.”

Giggling, you pressed your elbows down on his shoulder. “Toji. My love”, your voice imbued in honey and sugar made him face you. Smiling angelically, you pointed at the cliff providing the shade you two enjoyed all day. “Throw me in the water. From up there, please.”

Another sigh. I’m almost breaking him, you thought. “Why? Just… why?”

“Because I want to jump so badly but I’m a coward”, you pouted. His eyes fell towards your bottom lip. “So just throw me. Pleeeeeeeaase. Pretty please.”

“If you drown, I’m not saving your ass.”

“Deal”, you kissed his jaw.

Another slap. “Spoiled, annoying brat.”

(Except, obviously, Toji always lets you win.)

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

(If you had asked, Toji would’ve confessed in a heartbeat.)

Toji took of his shoes and frowned at your heels fallen out of place. Murmuring to himself about how when he does it with his sneakers it’s a crime deserving of death sentence, Toji closed the buckles of your heels and put them inside the shoe rack.

He knew something was off once the silence lingered. Never one to doubt himself, Toji didn’t hesitate. He analyzed the floor, searched for different scents, checked the front door’s handler. Passing through every room with a hand near his hidden gun, Toji didn’t breathe until seeing you on your bed.

Although, what Toji saw didn’t make him any more relieved.

It’s late at night and you’re still wearing your responsible-adult clothes—that’s how you call those you buy solely so your coworkers won’t judge you. Earrings intertwined with your sweaty hair, necklace pressed against your collarbone, belt too tight to be comfortable.

Moonlight showed him your puffy eyelids smeared with mascara. Half-open as you stared at the ceiling, you didn’t seem to acknowledge Toji’s presence. You didn’t seem to acknowledge anything at all.

“Hi, love.” Toji kneeled down, whispering in order to not startle you. He pressed his chin on your pillow, hands moving your hair away from your face. “Are you here with me?”

Another tear rolled down your face once you blinked. Toji pressed his thumb against your skin, stopping it from falling into your ear. You tried to turn your face away from him, but hesitated once the warmth of his hands made to your heavy mind.

“Need to sleep”, you murmured, voice so thin Toji felt his throat shut.

Soaked in sweat, Toji ran his fingers through your hair without bothering you. He scratched your head, draw figures on your scalp, avoided any knots. Your name, his own, any other word he could think of: his fingertips wrote on your head. For what felt like hours, that’s all he did.

You tilted your head, staring at him. Toji can’t remember ever seeing your eyes like that. Dim. He wondered where you lost your light, and made a quiet promise to return it to you. “Sorry.”

“Don’t.” Toji simply continued to caress your head. “Tell me what to do.”

For the first time in hours, you thought about what you needed. With a single phrase, Toji reminded you that you had a body. “Can you get me my towel?”

Toji would’ve done anything, everything, you asked him to.

With your towel on the mattress, Toji assisted you to sit down. One hand on the small of your back, another cupping your cheek. You melted into his touch, but closed your eyes once he kneeled in front of you. Running away from his careful gaze, you grabbed your towel and forced yourself to walk into the bathroom.

It didn’t surprise you that Toji followed you. Or that he took the towel from your hands, unclasped your jewelry, slid your clothes off of you. Neither as the water hitting your body was on the temperature you prefer, as he hugged you tightly under the shower, as he didn’t make questions you couldn’t quite answer.

Not even your worst day would make you forget how soft your Toji is.

Toji relies on your body to tell him what you need, but once or twice you will say it yourself. Can you get me my towel? You want to be clean again. And knowing what you want, Toji knows what to do.

In no rush, he put your shampoo on his hand and massaged your head. Once your back found a support on his chest, he rinsed your hair while protecting your eyes. After moisturizing, he brushed your hair until he could feel no more knots. Washing the remains of conditioner away from his hands, he moved to the rest of your body.

It didn’t feel weird, and that did surprise you. To feel his hands on your naked body without feeling desire or desired. It wasn’t uncomfortable. Far from it. As Toji washed you, you just felt less lonely.

“Toji?”

He kissed your scalp, massaging your shoulders. He drawn little hearts on your skin. “I am here”, Toji hummed.

“It’s nothing”, you closed your eyes. That was a lie. You meant to say thank you, and I’m sorry but knew he would get mad if you did so. “Just wanted to hear you.”

“I am right here.”

(He would’ve confessed to mimic you, because Toji’s love is anything but gentle and quiet.)

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

(You wouldn’t ask him to. You would never.)

Ignoring the sorcerer’s terrified eyes, his movements were harsh and cold. It felt just right. To have a combat knife between his fingers again. How natural. As if his hands came from a mold, one made to wield blades and nothing more. That would make sense. For his body to be assembled instead of born.

Gun left aside; chair dragged across the concrete floor. Toji sat in front of the muzzled sorcerer, spreading his legs as he sharpened the blade. Moonlight made it clear. Cold sweat, stunned eyes, shaken limbs. He was a scared, coward animal.

“Don’t cry now”, Toji cocked an eyebrow. Spreading his legs, he admired the thin edge. Perfect. Dragging out the silence for one more instant, Toji stared at the walking corpse. “Not when you begged for this.”

A clan left behind; hellish decades erased within an insurgent decision. Toji doesn’t need to be a Zenin to have enemies. Blood-stained hands collect them just as easily. But after slaughtering enemies enough times, those smart enough to be considered dangerous by others knew better than facing him.

But rumors travel fast and, in his absence, fools gained confidence.

This late on his life, Toji couldn’t tell if it was instinct or muscle memory. He simply knew the sorcerer was about to do something stupid. The knife’s handle hit the man in the temple. As he fought to continue conscious, Toji observed his skin turning purple.

He felt proud. This night left no wound or bruise on his skin. There will be no perplexed gaze, uncertain touch, questions that can’t be answered honestly. Once he comes back to his home, you will have no reason to worry.

“You hurt her.” Toji wondered how long it would take. To get back to you. To return your caring gaze, feel your caring touch, hear your caring questions. “Now I’ll hurt you.”

It begged. It tried to negotiate, numbers rising as Toji continued in silence. If rumors travel fast, so does the truth. Toji turned soft, a rumor that thing discovered to be a lie the moment it decided to bother you. Toji can be bought, a fact that never once included you.

“What do you want?!” And the tears came back. They usually do, with loud and unstoppable sobs. Don’t matter who they are, in the end they beg just the same. “I can give it to you. Tell me your price.”

“Your right hand”, Toji tilted his head, sliding the edge of the knife against the armchair. “You touched her with your right hand.”

Toji was merely taunting the sorcerer. He would never use a combat knife to torture someone. That doesn’t sound like him at all. Toji will saw both hands with a dull knife.

(But you didn’t need to ask him to. Toji would always.)

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

(Toji didn’t need to say it.)

It took him long enough to unlock the door to your apartment. The voice of a senator on a news channel welcomed Toji. Heels inside the shoe rack, handbag and headphone forgotten on the couch. Hearing you hum in the shower, Toji turned the TV off.

He could picture it so clearly. You stretching your neck and walking barefoot into the living room, rubbing your eyes just to immediately remember about the mascara. Calling for him. Hearing nothing in response. Choosing something loud on the TV and deciding to take a long shower because it’s friday, I deserve this.

Toji sighed, relief washing over him in waves. You’re back to being you.

He put the takeout on the table and organized the groceries on the kitchen cabinet—his excuses for staying out longer than usual. Toji was careful with them. Food from your favorite restaurant, cleaning products you mentioned before. Lies build on solid truths.

He doesn’t have an excuse for the scent of antiseptic soap, but once your products made to his nostrils Toji realized he wouldn’t need one. Scents way too sweet, enough to confuse slightly his keen senses. There is no way you’re able to smell anything but yourself.

As the bathroom door opened, Toji grabbed a towel on the laundry and locked himself inside it before you could get a hold of him. He doesn’t think you would notice, and if you did you wouldn’t waste your breath on it, but Toji won’t risk it.

Washing himself once more, Toji tried not to wonder about what would make you despise him more: what he did, or that he doesn’t feel any remorse. Would it make it better for you if Toji cried in the shower? If he stared at his clean hands and saw blood on them? Toji could pretend for you. He really would.

You’re safe and sound, mere steps away from him. Toji showers hearing your loud music. Toji can picture that too. You waiting for him as your sleepy eyes challenge your determination—you always fall asleep before he gets to you. You being you. No shaky breathes, no unstoppable tears. He could never feel remorse.

Toji went after you with a towel around his hips. Following the music most likely coming from your phone, he gently opened the bedroom door to not wake you up. Leaning on the door frame, Toji chuckled.

With your eyes closed, you were far from sleeping. Wrinkled sheets falling out of bed, toes curling against the mattress. Damp towel forgotten on the floor. A hand squeezing his pillow, the other hidden between your thighs. Forearms moving in the rhythm you created to yourself; small gasps concealed by a song.

Spit gathered in the corner of your mouth, mesmerizing Toji. How he wished to sink his teeth into your glossy lips. A broken moan and your back arched, his eyebrows furrowing in synchrony with yours. You did it as the waves of pleasure became too much, and Toji as he finally saw what you had between your legs.

From the blunt and bulbous head to its thick length, it was truly no wonder why you were so quiet. All way out, then all way in. Your concentration was on fucking yourself with the dark purple dildo, the rest simply too much for you little brain.

He never saw that one before.

Wrist burning from your incessant movements, your free hand abandoned his pillow to press down on your clit. A simple and precise touch that made you whimper. Feeling shivers down his spine, Toji smirked.

Your eyes fluttered open.

A beat later, they meet his and widened. All way out. Mouth hanging open, you chuckled. It sounded like you were about to lose your sanity. Then all way in. “There you are.”

Toji crossed his arms, leaving his place at the door to a new one at the end of the bed. “Putting on a show for me?”

“Not on purpose”, you laughed it off. It felt so dirty. For you to talk normally while doing something so lewd. As if you weren’t fully exposed—as if he wasn’t too. “I could say the same about you.”

Skin reddish because of the hot water, black hair dripping wet. You followed every drop, burning him with your ravenous gaze. Veins evident on his thick neck. Long fingers pressing down on his forearms, a reminder of how bad you miss his touch. Huge thighs, even when relaxed.

He dropped the towel. “Not on purpose”, Toji lied.

A knee sunk on the bed, his hands caressing your heels. Toji forced your legs up, tilting his head to kiss the side of your foot. He put one on each shoulder, another knee sinking down on the bed. Grabbing at the fat of your thighs, Toji pulled you closer.

Toji has a way of making you feel weightless.

He bit his tongue, a hand massaging your thigh. Always the cocky asshole, Toji rubbed your overwhelmed clit with his thumb. Staring into his hungry eyes, you grinned.

Holding the firm base of the dildo, Toji pulled it out of you. The sounds your cunt let out, soaked and soft, made him squeeze your thighs. With a pop, there it was, covered in lubricant and your excitement. Your core clamped around nothing.

Toji spat on you, fingers rough against your sore lips as his other hand pumped his cock. You swallowed watching Toji compare with your dildo. You both could see the truth. How your toy was much bigger and ticker.

Salivating, Toji was so proud of you.

Bending over you, forcing your thighs against your chest, Toji admired your sweaty face. He kissed your temple, pressing the dildo’s tip against your lips. “Your collection only grows”, Toji groaned. “That’s a new one.”

“Not new”, you lapped at the protruding head. “Is for when I miss you.”

Toji sank his teeth into your shoulder, hiding his burning cheeks against your skin. Fingers ran through his hair; nails scratched his forearm. “You saw me this morning.”

His tongue was everywhere, moving too fast for you to keep up. Kissing your shoulder, licking your neck, biting your collarbone. Toji is always too much. How perfect of him. “Are you that needy you can’t go hours without me?”

“Miss you all the time”, you struggled to breath. Pulling him by the hair, you made Toji face you. Lost on his dark eyes, time seemed to stop. “Say you miss me too.”

“Miss you all the time”, Toji obeyed. It wouldn’t matter if he didn’t. Not when you can see his flushed cheeks. As a reward, you kissed the scar on his mouth—you would’ve kissed it anyway. “Think about you all the time.”

You bit his earlobe, nose sliding against his neck as you searched for that sweet spot able to make Toji stutter. Once you did, mouth sucking it without mercy, Toji gave your hips a strong squeeze. His calloused hands would mark you tonight.

Toji humped on your thigh. You could feel precum leaking against your skin. He settled for leaning his forehead against yours. “You smell way too sweet.”

“I can get new lotions”, you offered. “Something you like better.”

“Don’t.” Toji cupped your face, ignoring your clit to rub the length of his cock against your slit. Pushing your head against the pillow, he kissed your forehead. “I like you sweet.”

Toji didn’t meant to slip inside you. He wanted to taunt you some more. To fuck you with your dildo and make you scream right into his open lips. Toji wanted you drooling. And once you begged him enough, showing what a polite woman you are, Toji would make you cry with his tongue deep into your walls.

But you were so wet.

“T-Toji!” You gasped, eyes wide as you felt all of him. Pulling his hair, you bit his bottom lip. “Can feel you so deep…”

“I know”, Toji grabbed the headboard, thighs shaking. So fucking welcoming. Thumbs stroking your hips, his mind was a mess because of you. “I know.”

Your eyes meet his. A part of Toji wanted to look away. To hide how fragile you make him. How your gaze burns him deeply. The other wanted to never shy away from you. To never know what it feels like to not be watched by you.

No one ever sees him, the one who left it all behind. No one but you.

His body collapsed against yours. His hands pulled your hair, making you tilt your head so he could continue to torture your neck. Thighs forcing yours open, chest pressing down against yours. You could feel the rhythm of his heartbeat. This gigantic man crushing you against the mattress, so heavy it was difficult to breath.

Drunk on his overwhelming intensity, you admired Toji. His hips rolling up, so slow you could feel the trace of every vein on his cock. His length inside you, never giving you a break. His hair dripping on you, a blend of water and sweat.

“Remind me… to thank my new friend”, Toji tilted his head, pointing at the dildo besides your pillow. His raspy voice was more addictive than cocaine. “Got you ready to take me all in.”

Fighting his grasp on your hair, you hugged his shoulders and forced your head up. Sharing an open mouth kiss, your drool fell on your chest. It felt so cold. Or perhaps your skin was too feverish. Toji devoured your every moan, hands tightening around your hips.

“Missed you so much”, you whimpered. His forehead leaned on yours, eyes closing as Toji tried to not lose himself. You continued to admire him. “Missed being yours.”

“You’re always mine. All the time”, Toji groaned. His tip hit your most sensitive spot; your eyes closing on their own. Toji rubbed your neglected clit, a hand grabbing the roots of your head. His grip firm yet gentle. “Look at me.”

You obeyed, staring into his dark eyes again. You could swear you saw stars on them. Toji leaned his forehead on yours, your touch enough to make him forget everything but your name.

“There you go”, he whispered. “Focus on me, pretty. Don’t look away.”

Searching for those stars again, the waves of pleasure strong enough to shatter your mind. There was nothing but that spot you and Toji turned into one. Blinded by a fog, crushed by him, you came looking into his eyes.

Toji filled you with all he had. His head fell on your chest, it all too much for him to bear. It all too good for him to fully believe it was real. Gasping, he couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t do anything but breath on you. Sweet you.

Running your trembling fingers through his hair, you collapsed against the pillow. Toji was heavy enough to make you breathless, but you didn’t want him to move. You wanted him as close as he could get.

“Welcome back”, Toji murmured. Mimicking you, Toji ran his fingers through your hair. You felt him smiling against your skin. “I missed you.”

You knew exactly what he meant by that. “I love you too”, you whispered.

all rights reserved to © madwomansapologist

[xo100]

hi can i have a request a story about life where lando and his ex finally get back together again 🥹

Unfinished business- LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary/request: request by anon as you can read above this!

*:･ﾟ Word count: 1581

masterlist / community / request

౨ৎ

Lando Norris didn’t mean to fall in love with her. Not really. It just happened somewhere between late-night calls from different parts of the world and the quiet mornings they shared over coffee, bleary-eyed and content. For two years, they had built something beautiful. Something fragile. And like many fragile things, it shattered.

It had been a year since they parted ways. A quiet, mutual decision born from exhaustion, distance, and the demands of their individual lives. She had her career, a demanding one that required its own brand of discipline and attention. And Lando, of course, was always on the move, his life dictated by the calendar of Formula 1. It wasn't anyone's fault. There was no dramatic fight, no harsh words. Just the aching realization that, for now, their lives didn’t fit together the way they once had.

So they let go. They hugged each other goodbye in her quiet London flat, the kind of hug that lingered a little too long, with an unspoken understanding that maybe this wasn’t forever, that maybe one day they would find their way back to each other.

A year had passed since that night.

-

She scrolled through her Instagram feed absentmindedly, stopping when she saw his latest post—a sun-drenched photo of Lando standing by his car, all wide smiles and windswept hair. Her thumb hovered over the screen, hesitating, before double-tapping. The small heart icon appeared, a familiar pang settling in her chest. It had become a ritual at this point—liking his posts, reading his captions, sometimes even dropping a comment when she felt brave enough. And he did the same, always. As if this silent conversation on social media was their only connection left.

She never stopped missing him. Some days it was just a quiet hum in the background of her life, a dull ache that she had grown used to. Other days, it hit her like a wave, out of nowhere, leaving her breathless and wondering how she had ever let him go.

On the other side of the world, Lando felt the same. He never admitted it out loud, not even to his closest friends, but she was never far from his thoughts. He found himself checking his phone too often, waiting for those tiny signs that she was still there, still watching, still caring. Every time her name appeared in his notifications—whether it was a simple like or a playful comment—his heart gave a small, traitorous leap.

They weren’t together anymore, but they were never really apart.

-

The first time they saw each other again after the breakup, it was at a race. Lando had known she might be there, but nothing could have prepared him for the moment their eyes met across the paddock. For a split second, the world around him seemed to blur, everything but her fading away. She looked the same but different—more poised, more confident, but with that same light in her eyes that had always drawn him in.

Her heart stuttered when she saw him, the familiar ache resurfacing. God, he looked good. The year had been kind to him. His hair was longer, his smile somehow brighter. But there was something else, something in the way his eyes softened when they landed on her.

They didn’t approach each other right away. Both too unsure of what to say, too aware of the unresolved feelings still hanging between them like a weight neither could lift. But eventually, they found themselves standing side by side, in the way that used to be so natural. And for a moment, it almost felt like old times.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice barely audible over the noise of the paddock.

“Hey,” she replied, her heart racing.

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward, but it was heavy. Heavy with everything unsaid, everything they had tried to bury over the past year.

“How’ve you been?” he asked, though the question felt painfully inadequate.

“Good. Busy, you know… work and everything,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, a nervous habit he remembered all too well.

“Yeah… same.” He gave a small nod, eyes searching her face for something—anything—that would tell him if she had moved on. If she had forgotten him.

But she hadn’t. And neither had he.

-

The weeks after that encounter were… confusing, to say the least. They started texting again, slowly at first. Just little things—a funny meme, a quick ‘good luck’ before his races, or a random thought that reminded her of him. But it quickly became more than that. The conversations stretched longer, the topics more personal. They talked about the things they hadn’t talked about during their relationship—how hard it had been to let go, how much they missed each other, how they hadn’t really stopped caring.

One night, after a long conversation, Lando found himself staring at his phone long after the screen had gone dark. He couldn’t do this anymore. He couldn’t keep pretending that he was okay without her. He had tried. God, he had tried. But no matter how many races he won, no matter how many new cities he visited, there was always this empty space where she used to be.

And she felt it too. Every time she saw his name light up her phone, her heart leapt. Every time she saw a post of his, she couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to reach out and just say it—to admit that she still loved him.

The breaking point came on a rainy night in London, when the loneliness felt unbearable. She was scrolling through her messages with him, re-reading old texts from when they were still together. Before she could overthink it, she sent a message.

I miss you.

-

Lando’s phone buzzed on his nightstand, the soft glow cutting through the darkness of his hotel room. He reached for it, half-asleep, but when he saw her name, he was suddenly wide awake. He stared at the message for what felt like an eternity, his heart racing.

He had missed her too. Every single day.

Before he could second-guess himself, he typed a response.

I miss you too.

The three little dots that indicated she was typing appeared, then disappeared, and then appeared again. Finally, another message came through.

Can we talk? In person?

His heart skipped a beat.

Yes. When?

-

They met in a small café, tucked away from the prying eyes of the world. It was quiet, intimate, the kind of place where people went to have real conversations. The kind of place where they had once spent hours together, laughing and talking about nothing and everything.

When she walked in, Lando felt like the air had been knocked out of him. She looked nervous, just like he felt. But there was something else in her eyes too—hope.

They sat down, and for a few moments, neither of them spoke. It was like they were both afraid to say the wrong thing, to shatter the delicate balance they had found themselves in.

“I don’t know where to start,” she admitted with a small laugh, breaking the tension.

Lando smiled softly, his fingers tapping lightly against the side of his coffee cup. “I’ve been trying to figure that out too.”

They fell into silence again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable this time. It was just… heavy. With everything they had left unsaid over the past year. Finally, Lando looked up, his voice quiet but steady.

“I’ve never stopped thinking about you,” he said, his words hanging in the air between them. “I tried to move on, I really did. But no matter what, it always came back to you.”

Her breath hitched, and she looked away, blinking back tears. “I haven’t been able to move on either,” she whispered. “I thought… I thought maybe it was just me, that maybe I was holding onto something that was already gone.”

“It’s not gone,” Lando said firmly, reaching across the table to take her hand in his. “It never was.”

For a long moment, they just sat there, holding each other’s gaze, holding each other’s hands, letting the weight of their feelings settle between them.

“I still love you,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I never stopped.”

“I love you too,” Lando replied, his thumb gently brushing against her skin. “I never stopped.”

-

The decision to get back together wasn’t made in that moment. They knew it wouldn’t be that simple. There were still challenges to face, still things they needed to figure out. But what they both knew for sure was that they couldn’t keep pretending anymore. They couldn’t keep acting like they were better off apart, because they weren’t. Not really.

The rest of that night was spent talking, laughing, and crying. They laid everything out on the table—the fears, the regrets, the hopes for the future. It wasn’t perfect, but it was real, and it was honest.

When they finally left the café, the rain had stopped, leaving the streets slick and glistening under the soft glow of the streetlights. Lando walked her to her car, his hand never leaving hers. And when they reached it, he hesitated for a moment before pulling her into his arms.

“I’m not letting you go again,” he murmured against her hair.

She smiled, burying her face in his chest. “Good. Because I don’t want to go.”

౨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know! Also hey anon! If you read this, I hope that this is what you had in mind!

*:･ﾟtags; @spookbusters-jr

[prettygirl-gabi]

Full-Court Love

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader x Azzi Fudd

POV: First-person

Fandom: UConn’s Women’s Basketball

Word Count: 1,500+

Summary: they make time they always do

Valentine’s Day as a college athlete is a tricky thing.

Between practices, classes, and upcoming games, there’s barely any time to breathe, let alone plan something romantic. And this year? It was even worse.

We had the biggest game of the season against South Carolina on the 16th, which meant Coach had us locked into an intense practice schedule. No distractions. No excuses.

But when you’re dating both Paige Bueckers and Azzi Fudd?

You make time. They make time.

The first sign that Paige and Azzi were up to something came when I walked into the locker room after practice and found a red envelope sitting on top of my bag.

I glanced around, but everyone else was either showering or changing, too focused on their own post-practice routines to notice.

Curious, I picked it up and opened it.

Inside was a simple note, written in Azzi’s neat handwriting:

“Meet us in the film room. Don’t be late. ❤️”

I raised an eyebrow, then shook my head, a smile tugging at my lips.

Whatever they had planned, I already knew it was going to be good.

By the time I got to the film room, I could hear Paige’s laughter through the door.

I pushed it open to find her and Azzi standing in front of the projector screen, which was now displaying a homemade PowerPoint slide that read:

“WHY YOU SHOULD BE OUR VALENTINE”

I blinked. “You made a PowerPoint?”

Paige grinned. “You know I love a good presentation.”

Azzi nodded, holding up a remote. “We have five slides prepared.”

I crossed my arms, biting back a laugh. “This is so unserious.”

Paige smirked. “Just sit down and watch, babe.”

I sighed dramatically but took a seat. “Fine. Impress me.”

Azzi clicked to the next slide, which had a picture of me in my UConn jersey mid-game, looking absolutely locked in. Underneath it, the text read:

“Reason #1: You’re the best player on the team (don’t tell Coach we said that).”

I snorted. “Y’all are ridiculous.”

Paige grinned. “Next slide, Z.”

The next one showed a candid photo of the three of us from last semester, curled up together on the couch, half-asleep during a movie night.

“Reason #2: You make every moment better.”

I felt my heart squeeze a little.

Azzi glanced at me, a small smile on her face. “It’s true. Even when we’re exhausted, just being with you makes everything feel easier.”

Paige nudged her. “Damn, getting sentimental already?”

Azzi rolled her eyes. “Shut up, Paige.”

I grinned, shaking my head. “Y’all are actually kinda cute.”

Paige winked. “Just wait.”

The next slide had a picture of me standing between them after a game, arms around their shoulders, all three of us grinning.

“Reason #3: We love you, duh.”

I exhaled softly, warmth spreading through my chest.

Paige leaned against the desk. “We know the timing sucks this year with the South Carolina game coming up, but we didn’t want today to just feel like any other day.”

Azzi nodded. “So, will you be our Valentine?”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop the smile on my face. “Like I’d ever say no to you two.”

Paige grinned. “Good answer.”

Azzi smirked. “We also have dinner plans.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Coach explicitly said no distractions—”

Paige waved a hand. “Coach didn’t say we couldn’t eat dinner.”

Azzi nodded. “And we already cleared it with the team. A bunch of them are doing their own little date nights before we go full lock-in mode tomorrow.”

I sighed, standing up. “Y’all really thought of everything, huh?”

Paige smirked. “Always.”

Azzi grabbed my hand. “Come on. It’s a surprise.”

They took me to a small, cozy Italian restaurant about fifteen minutes off campus, one of those places you’d never notice unless you were looking for it.

The second we walked in, I realized Paige and Azzi had really planned ahead—the restaurant had a private table set up in the back, complete with dim lighting and a tiny vase of roses in the center.

I turned to them, impressed. “Okay, I was expecting something chill, but y’all actually went all out.”

Paige grinned, pulling out a chair for me. “Only the best for our girl.”

Azzi sat down across from me, smiling softly. “We figured we wouldn’t get much alone time after today, so we wanted to make this one count.”

I glanced between them, warmth pooling in my chest. “I love you two, you know that?”

Paige smirked. “We do now.”

Azzi reached across the table, lacing her fingers with mine. “Love you too.”

Paige nodded, grabbing my other hand. “Love you more.”

I rolled my eyes. “We’re not doing the ‘who loves who more’ thing at this table.”

Azzi smirked. “That sounds like something someone losing would say.”

Paige cackled. “OHH, she got you.”

I groaned. “Y’all are literally the worst.”

Paige winked. “And you love it.”

Unfortunately for me, she wasn’t wrong.

After dinner, we walked back to the car, hands intertwined as the cold February air nipped at our skin.

Paige nudged me playfully. “So, did we do okay?”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Okay? Y’all actually managed to surprise me. That’s a first.”

Azzi grinned. “That was the goal.”

I looked between them, my heart feeling way too full. “Best Valentine’s Day ever.”

Paige smirked. “Just wait until next year.”

Azzi nodded. “We’re only getting started.”

And knowing them?

I believed it.

---

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

                 -Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

                             -prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[graveyardcuddles]

The early stages of Astarion's romance as he's just beginning to fall for the player are so precious to me. There are so many lovely scenes/moments with Astarion's romance throughout the game that it's really hard to pick a favorite. Obviously, the final romance scene in the graveyard is incredibly beautiful and makes me weep, and the conversation you have with him after defending him from Araj is brilliant.

But honestly, the one scene I keep rotating in my head, even months post game release, is the scene where he propositions you for the second time. I love how it's both incredibly angsty and also painfully sweet to me? I love the silly flirting he does, I love the fake-ass manipulative "I love you," he give you (that might have made me a lil mad first time I played). And I especially love how much you can read between the lines in those moments. Personally, I'm a big believer that Astarion definitely has at least a bit of crush on the player at this point, if not already actively falling for them. The "I love you" might not have been 100% real in the moment, but his responses for when you both accept and reject his offer are very telling.

A lot has been said about how he seems to be genuinely disappointed when you turn him down the second time. And I think he is a bit disappointed, has a bit of a hurt ego probably. But mostly he seems very self-reflective. He mentions how he got on his back so many times for so many people and none of it was memorable or enjoyable, unlike with you. That's such a vulnerable thing to admit, something that he doesn't necessarily need to confess to Tav in order to manipulate them. It's like he's trying to grapple with the feelings himself. That subtle pause and look in his eyes right after he wishes us goodnight? He wants to connect with us in a non-sexual way SO BADLY but just can't feel safe enough to at this point.

When you accept his offer, he plays it off cool at first. But I love how right before the fade to black he says: "There you are. Now you're all mine and I'm all yours...At least until morning." He's literally thinking about how long you two can have this time alone together. And his cute little "Let’s see where the night takes us~" with this little happy sway and smile he does it's like...he's so eager to just have this time with us. He might still be trying to "seduce" and manipulate our feelings at this point, but he's so obviously just happy to be spending time with his favorite person.

The feelings were complex and obviously may have felt tainted by his plan, but I feel like it's all a part of him learning to enjoy intimacy again. Which eventually leads to him learning to enjoy non-sexual intimacy with his partner in Act II and III. Idk I just think watching all the stages of him falling in love and learning to be worthy of love is so neat.

[jenscx]

KISS ME MORE — ning yizhuo

tldr: my (22f) gay roommate’s (21f) dating life makes me feel weird. she’s one of my best friends but now i’m wondering if i could be homophobic.

tags fluff, crack, jealousy, non-idol au, roommates, based off that one reddit story, short fic, dialogue heavy, mentions of jmj, hi yunjin! tw for oblivious ning, pacing’s weird kinda

wordcount 5.2k

🎙️ author’s note: happy birthday ning! late fic ik… but i’ve been busy (i’m sorry 😞) hope our dearest main vocal stays happy for the rest of her life! can’t imagine aespa without her 🤍 happy reading~

r/relationships posted by

u/throwawaylizard 16 hours ago.

TLDR: my (22f) gay roommate’s (21f) dating life makes me feel weird. she’s one of my best friends but now i’m wondering if i could be homophobic.

i am currently roommates with this girl, A. we've been staying together ever since we graduated and we’re very close. sometimes we’ll even jokingly flirt with each other but she knows i’m straight and she has never made me uncomfortable before. i’m a foreigner and A has definitely helped me grow accustomed to the culture here. i owe it all to her. which is why i’m confused about my feelings right now.

i’ve never thought of myself to be discriminatory towards anyone and i always welcomed those different from me, regardless of their sexual orientation. however, recently my roommate has come out to me. i supported her and didn’t think much of it after. but here’s where the problem starts. she came back with a girl a few days ago that i recognise from our extended friend group. i have nothing against gay people but when i saw the girl, i just felt so upset. at first i thought it was because i was in a bad mood and all i wanted was to cuddle with A, but afterwards, A would progressively get more touchy with that girl (lets call her Y). every time i would see them, i just felt bad. i wanted to puke at the sight.

i caught them making out on the couch once and i got so pissed off. i think it was because of a rough day but basically when my roommate started to apologise, i just blew her off. Y seemed embarrassed too. i felt really bad afterwards since A was really hurt by my action. she asked me why i was so angry and i just lied saying that something at work made me upset. i don’t want to tell her that it was because seeing her with a girl that i was annoyed.

there was another incident where she brought Y to our weekly game night. all my friends seemed fine with her, except for me. one of my friends, let’s call her M, had to pull me aside to ask what was wrong with me. in that moment, i realised that i was only hurting A and Y by being a jerk. i’m normally a polite person but that day i was being unnecessarily rude to someone i didn’t even know. i chalked it up as wanting only the best for A since she’s a year younger than me and wanting to protect her. she doesn’t really date anyone and she’s very quiet. am i being unreasonable? i really don’t want to be homophobic. i told M all about my feelings of homophobia and she told me that she was dating a girl too. i didn’t know why she brought it up but then she asked if i felt any disgust towards her for being gay. i said no and that her sexual orientation would never change our friendship.

so she asked why do i only feel that way towards A? and i want to extend that question to everyone here too. can someone help? do you have any experience with something like this? i don’t want to lose A as a friend. she’s one of my best friends and i can’t see myself not standing beside her in the future. we’ve been through a lot together and i don’t want this to be the reason why we end our friendship. she’s never once complained about my dating life and it feels hypocritical to do the same to hers. but i just feel queasy whenever she brings up other girls. like i want to bash my head against the wall type.

do i have selective homophobia? can someone help?

⇧ 157 | ⇩ | 89 comments

u/betterthingz01 | 12h

op i hate to break this to you… but i think you might be in love with your roommate.

u/throwawaylizard | 12h

can you elaborate? please!!!

u/flatearther | 11h

Are u sure u don’t have a crush on A? Or that u are straight?

u/throwawaylizard | 10h

uhm well i’m straight… so i don’t think i have a crush on A but if i was into girls, i’d definitely fall in love with her!! she’s really sweet and caring.

u/flatearther | 10h

Oh 😭😭

u/mingmingz | 7h

how do you feel if your roommate brought back a different girl? maybe you just don’t like Y as a person?

u/throwawaylizard | 7h

she used to bring other girls around too i think they were just friends though. i felt the same way but just seeing her kiss Y makes me want to throw up :((

u/blueskies444 | 5h

have u tried talking to ur roommate? i think communication is the best solution here

u/throwawaylizard | 4h

i talked to her a few days ago, asking her if she could stop bringing Y to our hangouts or apartment because it feels weird. our friend group only really consisted of five people and as bad as it sounds, Y just felt like an intruder. she kinda looked at me weird before agreeing. but then she asked if i would be fine if she went to Y’s apartment instead and obviously i said it wasn’t any of my business. A got a little upset and we haven’t been talking recently…

u/blueskies444 | 4h

i’m gonna be real w u for a sec and say that A is most definitely trying to get u jealous

u/throwawaylizard | 3h

why would she do that?

u/blueskies444 | 2h

yeahhh i’m not the one who should tell u why

“ning yizhuo, why am i getting messages from jimin unnie saying that she found your reddit post?” minjeong’s voice shrills out behind yizhuo. the girl shrinks, shivers running down her spine at the thought of anyone finding out about her post. she had resorted to reddit for help after much consideration and even aeri had said that reddit was surprisingly helpful at times.

“that’s not me! you’ve got the wrong person!”

minjeong rolls her eyes and tosses her phone onto yizhuo’s desk, “that’s literally you. ddongie would be upset to know that he’s a throwaway lizard.”

yizhuo instantly protests, “that just means that it isn’t my main account! i didn’t want people to find my real account.”

“oh, so you are throwaway lizard?”

she cowers at minjeong’s intense gaze, knowing that her little slip up just cost her whole facade.

“well the comments were helpful!”

“did you not reread what you typed out?”

minjeong’s genuine tone makes yizhuo hesitate.

“yeah? did i make a lot of spelling mistakes…?”

“no! did you not realise?” minjeong asks again. yizhuo huffs, swerving back around in her chair, “realise what? that i’m a bad friend? y/n hasn’t talked to me in days.”

just as she said in her reddit post, you haven’t spoken a word to her ever since that day she confronted you. yizhuo doesn’t think she was super mean with her words but the way you had reacted made it seemed like she killed your whole family.

she had only said, “hey, can you stop bringing yunjin over?” and her mere words had launched a full-blown argument where you had insinuated that yizhuo was jealous that you had someone to rely on.

it couldn’t have been further from the truth! yizhuo would never be upset about your happiness. any semblance of bitterness had lessened when she saw how bright your smile was or how much you were laughing when yunjin would tell a joke.

(she didn’t find it funny but at least you laughed. yunjin was the epitome of dad jokes. she was not funny.)

“she really hasn’t? wow, she’s determined,” minjeong chuckles.

yizhuo rolls her eyes and turns her attention back to her sketchbook. a few scrawned out designs, nothing much. just to take her mind off this situation for now. the pencil drawings somehow only manages to ensure that her brain constantly thinks about you though. how you encouraged her to enrol in a fashion course and how you were certain that yizhuo would become the biggest designer ever known.

she would giggle at your claims and humour you. now all that was left was your silence.

“why would she be determined to ignore me?” yizhuo asks, sighing, “i was upset but now it just seems like she thinks i don’t want her to be happy.”

minjeong raises an eyebrow, “what did the comments say? did they help?”

yizhuo huffs just thinking about the reddit comments. none of them really helped her to identify her feelings. just stating that she was gay and in love. both wrong!

“they said i’m in love with y/n and i’m jealous of yunjin,” she answers coolly, trying not to get too worked up over the false accusations.

minjeong winces, “do you think they’re right?”

yizhuo furrows her eyebrows.

“no?! i’m not gay!”

“but do you like y/n?”

“no! she’s just a very good friend!”

the brunette sighs, “that’s what they all say.”

“minjeong!”

yizhuo couldn’t be in love with you. no way. you were really just a good friend. one of her closest. she adored you greatly and wanted the best for you.

“so why are you so upset?” minjeong asks.

“i don’t know! that’s why i’m asking reddit! but now i just look like an idiot,” yizhuo groans, wanting to pull her hair out of frustration, which truly shows how irritated she was. she would never harm her hair.

“yizhuo, have you ever considered that you’re not as straight as you thought?”

yizhuo turns back to face minjeong, who’s sitting on her bed. she thinks back to all the times you’ve hung out with her. the lingering touches of comfort. the warmth she felt whenever you spoke.

she just wants her friend back. and she doesn’t know why she’s acting so unreasonable. could minjeong have a point? what if yizhuo…

“oh my gosh! i’m jealous since she’s out and gay—”

minjeong lights up, squealing, “yes!”

“and i’m just a straight girl without any confidence! i’m jealous of her confidence!”

minjeong deflates almost instantly.

yizhuo knows she’s right, so she immediately hatches a plan to talk to you. one comment said communication was vital in preserving this friendship, so yizhuo jumped into action. she knew you had your shifts at night and yizhuo could catch you off-guard right after. your work usually ended late and yizhuo always dozed off on the couch waiting for you. recently that routine has been broken, of course, but that’s when you’re most susceptible to vulnerability. yizhuo needed space to be honest and truthful.

thus, she waits patiently in the living room. yizhuo’s not really sure how long your shift lasts but she normally hears your keys jingle at midnight, so maybe then?

she waits an hour. then another. and then another. she spends the time scrolling on instagram, a frown forming on her face when yunjin appears on her feed.

then, finally, she hears the door creaking. jumping up from her lying position, yizhuo sits upright, focused.

“oh,” is your first word to her. not ‘hi’, or ‘hello’, just an acknowledgment.

yizhuo blinks at the sight of you in your work attire. but she quickly shoves the thought of how attractive you looked into the back of her mind.

“hey,” she winces at her own unfamiliar tone, “can we talk?”

you stare at her in shock before reluctantly nodding.

“yeah, sure.”

she pats the space next to her and clears her throat as you sit down.

“i know i’ve kind of been a jerk lately especially to you and yunjin, but i just want to say that i’m sorry.”

surprise flickers in your eyes, “oh.”

“i talked to minjeong unnie and it really cleared things up. i realised that i was upset because it felt like we weren’t as close as before. knowing that someone like yunjin could come replace me. i was jealous that you had someone while i didn’t. it felt like you were moving on without me, so i got a bit angry. i’m really sorry for the way i treated you and yunjin.”

(their first interaction really went poorly. yizhuo had came home, ready for a long movie night, just to find a random girl (well, not really random) sprawled out on her couch.

“i’m home,” yizhuo calls out, carefully approaching the body. long and lanky is the first thing she notices. and the bright red hair. yizhuo dyed her hair red before, it stained her pillowcase cover. she wonders if this girl’s pillowcase covers are stained with red dye too.

“hey, how was your day?” you ask, laying beside the girl, “sorry, this is yunjin. we just finished a gym session together with aeri unnie. minjeong unnie knows her.”

no wonder why you were barely dressed. yizhuo scrunches her nose at the sight of yunjin’s arm wrapped around your bare torso. she nods and asks quietly, “why is she here?”

you laugh, “i was bragging about my post-gym lunch and she said she wanted to try.”

yizhuo’s never tried your cooking before. she feels a little out of place now.

“ah, okay,” she replies dryly, not bothering to keep her volume down, “is she going to be here all day?”

yunjin wakes up at the commotion, a little disoriented as she shifts.

“oh, shit. sorry, y/nnie,” yunjin yawns, sitting up, “sorry ning, i accidentally fell asleep.”

“it’s yizhuo. only my friends call me ning,” she spits out. you send her a scalding look that makes her want to retract her words, “whatever. sorry. see you guys later.”

at night, just before you leave for your shift, you reprimand her, saying that she was extremely rude to someone she didn’t even know. yizhuo had tuned out most of your scolding, not wanting to hear you defend yunjin.)

“oh…”

yizhuo swallows harshly, squeezing her eyes shut, “i just need you to know i’m not praying for your downfall or anything. i want the best for you, especially since you feel like my younger sister.”

as soon as she finishes her little speech, she opens her eyes to your flabbergasted expression. eyebrows furrowed with your mouth agape.

“uhm… can you forgive me?”

yizhuo really needs you to forgive her. she doesn’t know what she would do if you decided that this was the breaking point for your friendship. she would respect your decision but still, it wouldn’t be nice. who would want that? and if you decided to end the friendship, what would happen with the apartment? yizhuo really likes being roommates with you. it would suck to have to find another roommate as meticulous as you.

“well— uhm, of course,” you stutter, “i gotta go shower. sorry.”

“oh, okay.”

just as you’re about to get up, yizhuo reaches for your hand, “we’re okay, right?”

she watches your throat bobble before rasping out, “yes. we’re fine.”

wow! yizhuo mentally pats herself on the back.

that was so easy. it felt like a whole weight got lifted off her chest. yizhuo smiles to herself and enters her own room, proud.

(meanwhile, in your own room, you vent to yunjin, bewildered by yizhuo’s obliviousness.

“she said i’m like a sister! her absolute gall! and she said it’s because she’s upset she doesn’t have someone like me! your whole jealousy tactic didn’t do shit!”

“girl, calm down. i didn’t know you liked the dumb ones. who knew she was so stupid?”)

you stare at yizhuo, who’s trying her best not to show any disdain for the way yunjin’s arm was slung over your shoulder. she must either be extremely self-repressed or just stupid. probably both. unless she didn’t actually like you. that thought, you didn’t dare to entertain. the once confident and bold girl had turned into this timid and shy kitten.

“take a shot if you’ve kissed someone in this room before!” aeri reads out the card before gulping down her drink. minjeong and jimin do the same and so do a few others. when yunjin shakes you ever so slightly, you take the initiative to swallow down the burning sensation. yizhuo’s glare narrows before she turns away entirely.

subtly grinning at her act of jealousy, you hum happily. there’s an outcry of people asking who aeri kissed and the attention shifts away. most people in your extended friend group had assumed you and yunjin to be dating. the only people who knew the truth were minjeong and aeri. jimin was kept in the dark since well, truthfully, she couldn’t keep a secret from yizhuo.

“take a shot if you ever kissed someone of the same gender.”

there’s more people drinking this time. you drink yours after a refill and so does yunjin. your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets when yizhuo drinks as well. wasn’t she straight?

“who did you kiss?!” jimin screeches.

yizhuo wipes her lips, glistening with alcohol, “a friend. it was a dare in high school.”

you listen with rapt attention as aeri eggs on, “was it good? are girls better than guys?”

“well, it was definitely less sloppy,” yizhuo shrugs, giggling. her blush has worsened under the lighting and you can tell she’s at least tipsy now. the redness was currently spreading throughout her cheekbones and neck. you would coo at the adorable sight of her pouting and playing with the soju bottle if she wasn’t the stupidest girl on earth. you noticed how yizhuo drank every time yunjin squeezed your shoulder or you leaned into her touch. was she seriously still so thick?

“take a shot if you ever crushed on someone in this room,” aeri groans, downing her glass again. you drink yours and others follow. it wasn’t unexpected. you were seventy percent sure that most of the guys had crushed on jimin before, at least for a second. or maybe hanbin. he was cute too. that, you could admit.

“aeri… why are all the questions about dating?!” jimin whines, flopping onto the carpeted floor. minjeong winces before exclaiming, “i think she’s drunk now. let’s call it a night, okay?”

you agree. yizhuo looks seconds away from passing out as well and despite your recent gym endeavours, you do not want to carry a twenty four year old woman back home. yunjin taps your side and slyly tilts her head towards yizhuo, who’s leaning against the couch.

“go save your princess, romeo,” she whispers and stands to help minjeong clean up.

after all the bottles had been cleared, you crouched to yizhuo’s eye level, “ning, let’s go. it’s time to go home.”

her eyelids flutter open and she blinks at you wearily, “home?”

you nod, standing to wrap her arm over your shoulder to steady her. finally on her two feet, you bid goodbye to everyone and make your way home, albeit slowly.

every minute or so, yizhuo would jolt and nearly topple over. right as you reach your place, she leans over to the sidewalk drain and gags. you let go instantly and take out your phone to record her. next time she wants to get drunk, you’ll just show her the video. let her reflect.

“yizhuo, hurry up, i wanna shower,” you complain, dragging the hem of her shirt.

“o-okay…!”

“uhm, you have to get up.”

yizhuo nods again, wobbling as she stands. you grip her wrist and pull her into the apartment lobby. her body weighs heavily onto yours in the lift and you huff at the stench of alcohol.

“you smell bad,” you sigh.

“really?” yizhuo giggles, “you don’t like it?” the elevator dings.

she turns around to rest her head on your shoulder.

“i shouldn’t have gotten so drunk…”

“no kidding. c’mon you big baby.”

finally, after much effort, you manage to get yizhuo onto the couch. you’re heaving and panting at the end but at least she’s comfortable.

“please never get this drunk again,” you groan, flopping onto the couch.

yizhuo moans, “not my fault.”

“yeah? who’s fault is it then?”

she flips herself around, facing the ceiling, “y-yours.”

“how is it my fault?”

“you and yunjin…” she slurs out and your heart leaps.

“how is it our fault?”

“you keep touching each other,” yizhuo inhales sharply before mumbling, “i hate it…”

grinning, you pat her back.

“yeah. it’s my fault. sorry baby.”

“hmfph…”

r/relationships posted by

u/throwawaylizard 4 hours ago.

UPDATE: my (22f) gay roommate’s (21f) dating life makes me feel weird. she’s one of my best friends but now i’m wondering if i could be homophobic.

hi guys! so i know some of you all have been asking for an update and here it is. there’s really nothing much that has changed? we’re back to normal, mostly. A doesn’t bring Y around as much anymore which honestly, should make me feel guilty but i don’t. we had a talk and i think it went rather well. i told her i felt like i was left behind and she forgave me for being so shitty.

it feels like this was just a hurdle in our friendship and we’re closer than ever. she’s become really touchy with me and i appreciate that things are back to normal. she’s been initiating talks and hangout sessions which boosts my mood immensely. i’m really happy with the progress we made. we’ve even started cooking together and it feels awesome. Y had tasted her cooking before and i didn’t. so it felt like this hole in my heart had been patched up. our movie nights have become solely ours and everything’s great. she’s the sweetest girl i know and the most caring, so i really do feel happy that i have my best friend and roommate back. our cold war was doing a toll on my mental and physical health but a simple conversation had cleared the air so easily.

sometimes when she brings up Y since she still hangs out with her, i do feel a little upset. she told me they aren’t dating, just good friends. but other than that, we’re cool. thanks for all the comments! i’m glad i’m not homophobic :D

⇧ 178 | ⇩ | 102 comments

u/imissher | 3h

op you can’t be serious…

u/throwawaylizard | 3h

? what’s wrong

u/imissher | 2h

it feels as if you haven’t really solved this ‘homophobia’ issue. just put it off to the side.

u/throwawaylizard | 2h

IM NOT HOMOPHOBIC 😭

u/mingzmingz | 2h

well i’m glad? as long as you guys are happy ig. idk what’s up with gay people

u/throwawaylizard | 2h

thank you! i’m not gay though.

u/japansfinest | 1h

HOLY SHIT NING

u/throwawaylizard | 1h

OMG DONT DOX ME???

u/japansfinest | 1h

GIRL BE SERIOUS RN 😐😐

u/1800hotnfun | 1h

i strive to live as blissfully ignorant as you, op

u/throwawaylizard | 1h

not very sure if this is a compliment.

things had reverted back to normal. yizhuo was happy again and it seemed like everything was fine.

so how did she get here?

yizhuo had simply gone out to get groceries for your dinner together and when she arrived home, hands full of plastic bags, she heard the tail of your conversation over the phone.

“i don’t think she’s picking up my hints, yun,” you say in hushed whispers, “maybe she really is straight. or she just doesn’t like me.”

despite yizhuo’s moral compass, she decides to listen in on your conversation. she’s never heard of you liking someone before, or being so insecure. what girl wouldn’t like you back? and you liked a straight girl too?

she can’t hear yunjin’s reply but you let out an exasperated sigh, “maybe she thinks i’m just being a really good friend. i thought she would have already realised i liked her by now. your whole jealousy plan didn’t work either. i mean, it did but not really.”

yizhuo slowly twists the door knob before loudly announcing, “i’m home!”

she hopes that by now, you would have ended the call so she wouldn’t have to interact with yunjin at all.

“oh,” she catches the anxiety in your voice, “did you get everything?”

“yup. there was a sale on apples, so i got those too,” yizhuo says, a little too cheerfully, but she wants to cover up any nervousness. as she places the bags on the kitchen counter, you stand up to help unpack everything.

while you start to arrange all the groceries, yizhuo thinks about your words. liking someone. a girl. a straight girl who was potentially oblivious to your advances?

yizhuo scrunches her nose.

sounds…

familiar.

“hey, did you get healthier milk? the one with less sugar added.”

as you twirl around to ask, yizhuo’s heart gets caught in her throat.

she was the straight oblivious girl.

“uh— yeah. i got both,” she gestures awkwardly to the pile of bags. you nod and go back to sorting everything out. god, she needs a breather. trudging to the couch, she sighs as the softness envelops her. she couldn’t wrap her head around this— you liked her? potentially? definitely?

yizhuo spends the next few minutes having an existential crisis. she was straight! the straight girl that you liked! and that whole jealousy thing with yunjin! you planned that! she can’t believe it. all her nights were spent debating whether she was homophobic or not and it was all a rouse to get her jealous? well, was she jealous? minjeong had seemed intent on getting her to admit that, which she did. but maybe it was because she was jealous of yunjin.

not for taking up your time.

but for being able to touch you and hold you in ways she can’t.

holy shit. she’s not as straight as she once thought.

and she has a huge crush on her roommate.

how could she let reddit comments be right?!

yizhuo stares blankly at the ceiling. you call out from the kitchen, “do you want white or red wine?”

she stands up from the couch, resolute in her decision now.

no wonder you had looked so offended after she sister zoned you! yizhuo would hate it too if all she was to you was an unnie. she wanted— no, needed to be your everything.

“yizhuo?” you ask again, examining the two bottles of wine.

yizhuo almost sprints into the kitchen. the sight of you with your hair up, the cute lace white apron wrapped around your waist, and your focused expression. it has her drooling. everything was so domestic.

how hasn’t yizhuo noticed this sooner?

“white wine please,” she answers when you’re within arms reach.

“are we drinking the whole bottle?”

she stretches out her arms to engulf your body in hers and reads the label on the wine bottle over your shoulder. taking gratification in the way your body shudders, yizhuo hides a pleased smirk.

“hm, should we?” she whispers hotly beside your ear. you shiver before muttering, “maybe. is tonight a special occasion?”

“i mean, it could be,” yizhuo grins, “you were promoted recently, right?”

tonight was one of your day-offs, and you came back recently, boasting about the extra time off you got from being promoted. of course that was celebrated with a simple get together with friends. but yizhuo didn’t get her own special celebration with you.

“yeah? okay, we’ll drink it all then.”

yizhuo smiles into your hair. she’s never felt happier. knowing that her inner frustrations had been settled finally. you were just trying to get her jealous. a good attempt nonetheless, it worked incredibly well. but now she’s certain of her own feelings.

“you smell nice,” she blurts out.

“i used your shampoo. ran out of mine.”

“mhm. smells good.”

yizhuo spots the hint of satisfaction on your face.

“are you complimenting yourself right now?”

“i have really good taste,” she states.

you roll your eyes playfully before detaching her arms but she just slithers them back into place.

“ning, i have to cook.”

“hold on,” she mumbles, “i think we can celebrate another thing.”

sensing your confusion, she continues brazenly, “we can celebrate our first night as a couple, right?”

“what—”

“i’m sorry for being so oblivious this whole time. i got so pissy because i was jealous. apparently, i’m not straight. or i just like you, i don’t know yet. all i know is that i envision myself by your side,” yizhuo explains, “everytime you mentioned yunjin i got upset and it’s because i thought you guys were dating. that’s why i didn’t like any of the girls you brought home either. i’m sorry for saying you’re like my sister. i like you a lot. not in a straight girl way.”

she hears you gasp and she can’t bring herself to continue without your reaction. yizhuo’s been through so much struggle with coming to terms with her identity and feelings and now she wants to get it all out.

“are you serious?” you ask without facing her. she chuckles at the redness at the tips of your ears.

“yeah. sorry for being a jerk. it was because i like you.”

“ning yizhuo— i… wait, let go of me for a minute. i wanna look at you.”

reluctantly, she does so.

you look so pretty under the kitchen light, yizhuo thinks.

“uhm, where do i even start?” you chuckle awkwardly, “i really thought you were into me when we first met and when you said you were straight… i think my heart died a little! but it’s okay, since you’ve been such a great friend to me. i must admit that yunjin did volunteer to be my plot device to make you jealous. i was hurt when you were being rude, so i’m happy you apologised. i like you too. a lot.”

yizhuo grins, heart beating wildly against her chest.

“can you say that again?”

“i like you a lot, yizhuo. can’t believe you called me a sister though.”

“i said i was sorry!”

r/relationships posted by

u/throwawaylizard 7 hours ago.

LAST UPDATE: my (22f) gay roommate’s (21f) dating life makes me feel weird. she’s one of my best friends but now i’m wondering if i could be homophobic.

hello! i’m glad to announce that this situation has finally been settled with a happy ending. i would like to give you guys a proper explanation and ending for all the help you provided.

first of all, yes, i’m not straight. or maybe i just like A. i haven’t explored that part yet but also, i’m in love with my roommate. i was jealous of all the girls she brought over and i wanted to be the one holding her and making her laugh.

second of all, you guys were right. she was using Y to make me jealous and it worked. so maybe she’s the real mastermind.

and lastly, we’re finally dating. we’ve been taking things slow for now since this is all new to me but A has been incredibly sweet and supportive (as she always is). it’s just a new experience but i’m willing to do anything as long as A is by my side.

thank you all for the help and comments!

it turns out i don’t have any problems with A kissing girls if it’s me she’s kissing.

⇧ 359 | ⇩ | 153 comments

[deakyjoe]

Absolution

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader (afab, fem)

Category: smut, sex pollen

Summary: Obi-Wan really should have let his curiosity go and avoided that flower.

Warnings: 18+, smut (!!), sex pollen, slight dubcon (because of sex pollen but all consensual), unprotected p in v sex, master kink, slight sub!obi-wan, slight dom!reader, reader talks obi-wan through it basically, suggestions of inappropriate use of a lightsaber, virgin!obi-wan, religious guilt, hints of reader’s past feelings, reader kind of ignores some Jedi rules, kissing, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, a lot of talks of fluids I feel, slight angst I guess, let me know if I missed anything!

Word count: 4.9k

A/N: Happy May the Fourth! Happy Star Wars Day! Wrote an Obi-Wan fic last year so thought I’d keep up the tradition this year as well. It’s not the best thing I’ve ever written, certainly not the best smut, but I did end up rushing it a little to get it posted today so… sorry! This is for @lightwxlker who I told about this over lunch at uni <3 (feel free to read but please never look me in the eye again if you do). Can’t wait to see you later to see The Phantom Menace!!

Consider buying me a coffee :)

Absolution:

(Noun)

Formal release from guilt, obligation, or punishment.

Declaration that a person’s sins have been forgiven.

It felt like you'd been trekking through the dense forest for days. Really, it had only been a few hours. But with no end in sight, and Obi-Wan's continuous promise of almost there, you were convinced that the two of you had been lost for about a week.

The Jedi had told you that you were in search of a hidden community that had answers to some questions that the Council had about... something. You didn't know. You rarely paid attention when Obi-Wan explained these things. As much as you respected him, these briefings started to sound the same after a while. It was the thing he reprimanded you for most often.

"Can we-" You wheezed. "Can we stop for just a minute?"

"Soon." He called over his shoulder simply, pushing aside a leafy branch for the both of you to pass through.

You considered pushing him over, tripping him up maybe, and even just stabbing him with your lightsaber. Just to have a break for a moment. It was unclear how he managed to walk through dense forest for hours on end without even a hint of fatigue peeking through. You envied him for it.

Luckily, your prayers were answered when a clearing appeared. It was small, sheltered by the canopy of trees above you, but it was a good place to stop. You didn't even have to say the word, Obi-Wan already knew what you wanted.

"Fine, rest here for a moment." He sighed, pointing at a rock.

You collapsed quickly, thankful for the brief reprieve, and watched as the Jedi made a slow circle around the clearing. He was inspecting every little thing there was to see. If there was one thing you had in common with the man, it was your curiosity and thirst for knowledge.

"Rather fascinating." He mumbled to himself, ignoring the burning of your stare on his back as he moved, poking at a fungus of some kind with the tip of his finger.

"Be careful. It might be poisonous." You warned, stretching out your legs in front of you.

"I know my living organisms." He replied steadily, pulling up and moving on to the next one.

It was a flower. Rather large, with pinkish petals and an indigo centre extending on from a bright green stem. It looked vaguely familiar to you. You racked your brain, thinking about the botany books you'd spent your spare time reading when Obi-Wan had insisted that you should know more about the planets you were constantly visiting.

Nothing was coming to you. Maybe you hadn't seen it in one of those books. Your head tilted as you watched the Jedi stroke gently at the petals with the backs of his fingers, mumbling about how it felt soft, and something came back to you when the flower seemed to move of its own accord.

"Get back." You shot up from the rock you were previously sitting on and took a quick step towards him.

"It's fine." He insisted, not looking at you - too entranced by the flower as he continued to caress the petals. He didn't know this one. He found it intriguing.

You remembered where you'd seen the flower before. A book hidden deep in the archives, where you ventured when you knew no one was looking, part of a collection of things that the Jedi were not supposed to have interest in.

Your pace picked up as the flower curled in on itself, the fleeting look of disappoint clear on Obi-Wan's face, reaching for his shoulder to wrench him back.

"No! Obi-Wan, stop!"

But it was too late.

As you made contact with his robes to pull him away, the flower blossomed open. A bright cloud of purple pollen burst out and coated the two of you, settling itself over your skin and infiltrating your lungs, and therefore your blood stream, as you breathed it in.

You coughed, scrubbing at yourself to try and get it off. But you knew you were past that.

The Jedi turned to you, surprised to see the panic in your eyes. "It's just flower pollen, nothing a little water won't wash away."

Your voice was shaky as you spoke. "What have you done?"

He frowned and glanced back at the plant. It wasn't one he recognised, granted, but he also hadn't been warned of anything dangerous in this area. So he really wasn't concerned. "I don't understand. What's wrong?"

"It's a flos venerem." You whispered. "We need to find shelter."

As you turned around in a slow circle, trying to decide which way you were more likely to find somewhere to figure everything out, Obi-Wan watched you with a curious gaze.

"And what is a flos venerem?"

You scoffed over your shoulder at him. "Do you ever read?"

You knew it was an unfair question considering the place you'd read about the flower wasn't one he, or any other Jedi, frequented but you were angry and frightened. Angry at him for not listening to your warnings. And frightened for yourself since you knew what the flower was going to do to you.

He looked on as you closed your eyes, feeling out with the Force. "Now is not the time to insult me. Tell me."

You whirled on him. "It's an aphrodisiac. A powerful one. And if we don't find shelter soon then you're going to be doing some strange things to these trees."

Obi-Wan frowned, puzzled by what you were saying. "Is there a cure?"

You laughed humourlessly, turning away from him again. "Is there a cure? Is there a cure, he asks. Ha!"

"An antidote?"

"No, there's no antidote." You hissed.

The effects of the pollen were already weighing on you. You imagined Obi-Wan was also feeling something as well, just unaware of it. At least you knew what you were supposed to be feeling. The Jedi Knight had no idea.

Your mouth felt dry, like sand on your tongue, and your skin was hot to the touch. A dull headache was forming at the base of your skull too and you knew these sensations would only get worse if you didn't do what the flower wanted you to. There really was only one way to fix it. But you couldn't find it in yourself to tell your companion the solution. You were ignoring the heavy feeling in the base of your abdomen.

Sensing your apprehension wasn't overstated, Obi-Wan pointed back in the direction you'd come from. "There was a cave a little while ago. We can go there and you can tell me more about this... aphrodisiac flower."

You only nodded, lacking the strength to tell him that you wouldn't be able to listen to his voice out of fear of what bodily responses that would cause in you. Your existing attraction to Obi-Wan would only be increased by the influence of the plant. And you were scared what you'd do, or what you'd suggest, to ease the feelings.

You started marching in the direction the two of you had come from, jumping away from Obi-Wan as he fell into step beside you and his shoulder brushed yours.

"Keep- keep your distance for a while." You muttered, pushing away the lick of heat that had shot through you at his proximity.

He frowned back at you, feeling bad for making you so clearly uncomfortable. "My apologies."

"It's okay. I'm just-" You cut yourself off with a groan.

Obi-Wan's stomach lurched at the sound. "You're just what?"

"The flower is making it difficult to be next to you." You turned your head away from him, desperately trying to breathe in the clean forest air and nothing else. But all you could smell was him. The scent was so strong that you could practically taste him, his skin, and it was making your mouth water.

"You're already feeling the effects of the flower?" He hummed, pondering. "I feel nothing so far."

It wasn't true. But he was completely unaware of what he was feeling. He put the dry mouth and headache down to minor exhaustion, the hike through the forest finally catching up with him. And the stirring he was feeling... down below was foreign. The Jedi secretly believed that maybe he was immune to the flower's influence.

He was severely wrong.

You glanced back at him, instantly looking away when you caught his wide-eyed gaze. His eyes were so blue, so familiar.

You marched ahead of him, ignoring his quiet protests as you urgently sought out the cave. It came into sights quickly and your pace picked up, practically running towards it now. When you reached it, you discarded your top layer of robes, the heat your body was producing making it feel as if you were melting, and left your lightsaber by the entrance to the stone shelter. You feared what you may do with it when the flower's effects got even worse.

Obi-Wan followed closely behind you and watched with curious attention at your actions, slightly puzzled when you made your way towards the back of the cave and sat down facing the wall.

"Sit over there." You pointed over your shoulder to a spot far away from yourself. "I need to think."

"Trying to remember an antidote?" He asked, wondering what there possibly was to think about right now. And without his help as well.

"Sure." You sighed, closing your eyes as you took a deep breath. You weren't thinking about an antidote since you knew there wasn't one. You were considering your options. Even though you knew they were limited. Very limited.

He trusted your word however, which was mildly foolish of him, and took a seat where you'd instructed him to do so. He kept his gaze on you, fixated on the back of your head, as he observed your breathing pick up and then slow back down several times of the course of a few minutes.

What Obi-Wan failed to notice was how his breathing was in tune with yours, increasing when yours did and lowering when yours did.

It didn't escape him though when the flower's influence started to manipulate his body even more. The dry mouth, dull headache, rapid heartbeat, and hardened dick were becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. And Obi-Wan couldn't stay in denial for much longer.

So he called out your name.

Big mistake.

You jumped at the sound, having to bite your tongue to prevent noise slipping from your lips, and glanced at him over your shoulder."Yes?"

"I believe the flower is finally setting in." He decided that was the best way to put it and not that the sight of you was making him think things he hadn't even considered since he was a lot younger.

You looked at him silently for a second too long, eyes flicking downwards before moving back up to meet his again. "Meaning?"

His brows creased for a moment. "You know."

You did. So you turned back towards the wall and stared at it. "I'm thinking really hard about it, okay? I'll work something out."

Lies.

Time progressed slowly, moving at a sluggish pace that had you wanting to claw your way out of the cave in temporary insanity, and you could hear Obi-Wan's condition growing steadily worse by the minute.

You were finding it a lot easier than him to control yourself, probably due to your more extensive knowledge on the subject of simple carnal pleasure. But Obi-Wan was losing it.

You kept your eyes focused on the stone in front of you, desperately trying to ignore the sounds that Obi-Wan was making behind you. The breathless whimpers that were leaving his mouth were heavenly to your ears, creating a pulse that shook through your body regularly. Despite the sounds making you feel good, it was getting harder and harder to stop yourself from giving in and crawling over to him. Especially since you could hear him tearing off at least one layer of his clothing.

"Obi-Wan, please be quiet." You whispered, just loud enough for him to hear.

To the Jedi your voice sounded husky, tempting almost. "I cannot help it. Please help me."

His voice was desperate, almost whiny, as he begged you for some sort of assistance. If only he knew what that assistance was.

You squeezed your eyes closed, resting your face in your hands. "I'm trying."

It was a lie. You knew that nothing could be done. The passage from the book you'd read about the flower had been very clear. Death was inevitable. Unless you engaged with someone... intimately.

It was the only method that would get your bodily reactions to calm down. If not, the next few days would be painful for the both of you. You'd be extremely aroused the whole time, heart racing at a million beats per minute, sweat would pour out of you and cause severe dehydration that would be impossible to remedy, and finally your body would give up from the sheer exhaustion of trying to handle it all. Then, you'd drop dead.

Just how exactly were you supposed to voice that to Obi-Wan, the man who'd boasted about his ability to follow the Order's rules for years, that the only way for the both of you to survive this was to sleep together? And how were you supposed to recover from possibly finally having the man you'd wanted for so long for just one night and then never again?

"I can sense that you're keeping something from me."

Your head snapped up at his statement. He was correct, sure, but you hadn't expected him to pick up on it in his state.

So you turned around to look at him, legs crossed in front of you and back against the wall to keep yourself as far from him as possible.

"There is one solution that I know of." You confessed, still thinking of a way to tell him.

"Just tell me. I know it's troubling you. It's okay." Obi-Wan's tone was soft and comforting.

You took a deep breath in. "You won't like it."

"Do we have a choice?"

You let the breath out again. "Death."

He released a tired and humourless chuckle. "I can assure you that I'll prefer whatever solution you have to death. So tell me."

You debated what words would spook the Jedi less. Were you clinical and informative? Or soft and subtle? The sweat dripping from his temple, begging to be licked away by the tip of your tongue, was telling you to be harsh and raw with him.

Your gaze fixed on his mouth. "We have to have sex, Obi-Wan. Multiple times probably." The last part was added on for emphasis, meant to draw a reaction out of him.

He gave it to you. His already flushed cheeks reddened some more, eyes darting away from yours momentarily. It's not that the antidote was unexpected, he figured that it would lead somewhere like this considering the two of you had been contaminated by an aphrodisiac, but he thought maybe that there would be another solution. Or that you'd at least beat around the bush a little more.

Obi-Wan didn't know how to tell you that he'd never done something like that before so wouldn't even know where to start.

Little did he know that you were already well aware of that fact.

"I'll guide you through it." You paused. "But once we get started I don't think you'll need much guidance. The effects of the pollen will probably lead you."

His eyes snapped back to you, a frown pinching between them. "And what do you know of it?"

"Obi-Wan..." You mumbled, tilting your head down slightly to give him a meaningful look.

He didn't look thrilled at the notion.

You scoffed, annoyance bubbling at his obvious judgement. "We all have a past."

He knew what you meant. Sure, everyone had a past. He just didn't realise you had that sort of past. Still, he realised he had no place to pass judgement against you.

Heat pulsed between your thighs at the sudden wide-eyed apologetic look he was giving you. A groan rumbled in your chest and you squeezed your eyes shut.

"I see that this is hard for you." He whispered and you attempted to hold back a laugh thinking that this probably wasn't the only thing that was hard. "So, how about you come over here and... show me what we have to do."

You looked back at him, surprised by the boldness he was showing. Yes, he wasn't a shy man by any means but you thought he'd have been a bit less confident in this situation. Or maybe the whole thing would just be so meaningless to him that he thought it'd be easy.

Obi-Wan could feel random muscles in his body clenching as you stared at him. He'd never felt like this before. He'd always known that you were beautiful, it was impossible to ignore, but he'd never thought much else of it. But now? He couldn't do anything else apart from think about it.

You slowly pushed yourself up from your seated position and fell onto your hands and knees, too tense to stand up, and made your way towards him steadily. He was surprised to find himself practically buzzing at the sight of you crawling towards him, a ravenous look on your face. You stopped about a foot in front of him, looking up into his eyes through your eyelashes.

A hand reached out for you.

You took it.

With his help, you settled yourself over Obi-Wan's lap, a leg either side of his thighs so you straddled him. You didn't let your weight rest on him just yet, wanting to check in quickly to make sure he was okay. It was taking everything in your power not to start touching him all over despite your overactive brain basically screaming at you to do so.

His eyes moved rapidly, taking you in as he searched across your body. A hand landed on either of your hips, encouraging you to move closer to him. So you did, chest pushing slightly against his and weight pressing into his lap as you sat down. The both of you let out a sigh at the contact, pain eased for just a few moments.

It was then that you noticed you'd sat on something extremely hard.

"Is that a lightsaber in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?" You chuckled, about to reach down to remove the weapon from the inside of his robes.

But Obi-Wan's eyes flickered over your shoulder to somewhere behind you. Slowly, you turned to see what he was looking out, a small pinch between your eyebrows, and saw where you'd discarded your own lightsaber earlier. What you were surprised to find was his lightsaber resting up against a rock beside yours.

"Oh." You croaked and looked back at him, eyes shooting to his crotch for a brief moment. "You are just happy to see me."

"The flower." He grumbled lowly.

Your heart fell momentarily, your face along with it, before you recovered and looked downwards towards his chest. "Right, of course."

Realising he'd made a fatal mistake, Obi-Wan placed a finger under your chin and tilted your head up to make eye contact again. "A combined effect of the flower and... you."

Your mouth dropped open for a second, dazed by his statement, before a smile blossomed along your face. "There was one thing I forgot to mention."

"And what was that?" His eyes were fixed on your mouth now.

"The flower's effects are stronger and fast acting if you are already attracted to the person you're with at the time of exposure." You leaned towards him closer, the tips of your noses brushing against each other. "I expected to feel the influence at least an hour or two before you did, Master."

A soft sound, somewhere between a moan and a whine, escaped his lips at the use of the title. It surprised you, you hadn't thought he'd be into that kind of thing. You didn't give him a chance to give you a real response though, the noise he'd just made finally pushing you over the edge.

You cupped his face in your hands and kissed him, thumbs swiping over his cheeks to wipe the purple pollen away. He let out another sound at that, this one more shocked, but equally as unrestrained. Your mouth opened just in time to catch it and swallow it against your own moan at finally feeling his lips melding with yours.

Usually, in the past, you’d have some sense of patience in this situation. But it’s like the feeling of his skin under your palms and his lips against yours, your tongue in his mouth, sent the pollen vibrating in your bloodstream. And before you knew it, your hands were tearing at his clothes, absolutely desperate to get them off.

And while Obi-Wan was a little more hesitant than you, inexperience slowing him down, once he felt how eager you were he could only join in on the action. His hands were soft, almost silky, like they hadn’t ever seen a day of hard labour in his life, and they sent warm bursts of electricity through you as they slid against your skin.

All barriers between you were removed in less than a minute, although time seemed to be flying now that you’d actually gotten beyond just staring at each other and ignoring all feelings your body had been screaming at you to address.

“Do you know what comes next, Master?” You questioned, wondering how out of practice he really was.

Obi-Wan seemed to pause, taking a long thought, before saying anything. “I’ve never done this before.”

“I know.” You said and he seemed both embarrassed and surprised. “That’s not what I was asking. Do you know what happens?”

“I’ve heard things.” He admitted slowly.

Up until this point you’d been trying to avoid looking down at his naked body. Sure, the two of you had been pretty enthusiastic in taking the other’s clothes off but neither of you had verbally stated what you were comfortable with actually doing. That didn’t mean you couldn’t feel every inch of him pressing against you though. Somehow in the tumble of robe removal, you’d slid forward on his lap which had caused your torsos to connect. And you hadn’t bothered to move back again.

You searched his face for any sign of discomfort, finding none. “Can I touch you?”

He sputtered. “You already are.”

“No-“ You took a deep breath. “Can I touch you… down there?”

You were hesitant to say certain words to him, cringing at just the thought of them coming out of your mouth and entering his ears. You shouldn’t be shy about this, having done this countless times before. But now you were doing it with Obi-Wan, someone you admired with the deepest affection, it felt different. A good different but different nonetheless.

“Oh.” The flush he’d been sporting across his face stretched to meet the tip of his ears and you reached up to tuck some hair back away from them. “Yes, you can.”

You could see that the lust the flower caused had taken over all rational thought as his irises, usually so blue and bright, had been consumed by his pupils dilating. Was this a good idea, you silently wondered? Did he truly want this? Or was the flos venerem speaking for him?

Before you had the chance to ponder over that even more, the animal instincts in your brain took over and your hand was wrapping around his, pretty sizeable, cock.

He hissed at the sensation of your warm palm touching him and you observed his reaction with hungry curiosity. You liked the way his eyes fluttered closed and his teeth sunk into his bottom lip, the way his head snapped back against the cave wall and he didn’t even seem to notice that it should’ve hurt. He was too absorbed in the pleasurable way that you were touching him.

You were touching him.

Obi-Wan felt as if he were flying amongst the stars.

Your hand slid up and down his length, taking in every minor reaction he gave you to see what he liked. The answer was: he liked all of it. No matter the pace of your strokes, the pressure of your squeeze, or the angle of the twist, Obi-Wan revelled in it all.

Every sound he made caused what felt like a flood to pour from between your thighs, skin prickling with flames of desire. You increased the speed of the pumps against his shaft, feeling him twitch in your hand. Obi-Wan started babbling to himself, something you couldn’t quite understand but realised were certainly happy mumblings. It didn’t take much more until he was orgasming, cum spurting out of him in hot ropes and coating both of your stomachs.

You weren’t surprised to see that he remained hard. At least the botany books hadn’t lied to you about the multiple times thing.

“Need you inside me now, Obi-Wan.” You whispered, pleased when his eyes seemed to spark with something akin to excitement. Pushing yourself up slightly, you took him in your hand again and aligned him with your entrance. Notching him against you, you inched down onto him slowly, feeling your hips stutter willing you to go faster, and watched his face scrunch up in pleasure.

“Does that feel good?” You asked despite knowing the answer. You just wanted to hear him say something, even a noise of approval would work for you.

He nodded rapidly and whined. “Yes, yes.”

Pleasure rocketed up your spine, walls clenching around him and he whimpered again. His hips bucked up underneath you and your eyes rolled back in your head.

He did it again.

You came.

A shocked laugh escaped your throat as the orgasm rippled through. You hadn’t realised it would be that easy but given that you’d denied yourself any friction and stimulation for way too long considering the situation you were in, it only made sense.

Obi-Wan’s eyes widened. “Did you just-?”

“Yes.” You sighed and rocked your hips against his, thighs still trembling with the aftershock.

“Stars-“ He gasped, head falling forward to bury his face in your neck. You smiled at the feeling of his beard scratching against your skin and moved faster.

Time became a haze, multiple orgasms rolled into a blur, and before you know it you felt like you couldn’t move anymore. Your legs ached, your body dripped with sweat and your breathing was shaky and uneven.

But you were determined for one more.

Obi-Wan gasped about it being too much but couldn’t stop himself from continuing to thrust up underneath you. Which you were thankful for considering you could feel your thighs cramping up and barely managing to support your weight. His arms locked around you, trapping you against him, as he pounded into you urgently like he was chasing something. He was really. And you could understand.

“Come on, Master, just one more.” You murmured against his temple.

It took only those words of encouragement for Obi-Wan to spill inside you once again, the feeling of that setting you off as well. And finally the two of you relaxed, the pollen’s effects wearing away.

The two of you sat against each other breathless for a moment before you eased up off of him and settled beside him. He immediately collapsed against you, sliding down until his head met your lap. You placed a hand in his hair as his breathing slowed down to a normal pace.

Now that the high had passed, guilt was setting in.

“What have I done?” Obi-Wan croaked, burying his face against your thighs.

You froze, knowing you should be feeling this same shame but not finding it in yourself to care. At least not right now. “It’s okay.”

“No!” He almost wailed. “I broke- I broke rules. Sacred Jedi code.”

“You had no choice. It was either that or death.” Tears stung at the backs of your eyeballs, willing yourself not to crack and break down. He needed you to be strong. “There was no other way.”

He knew you were right, a small seed of relief buried deep in his chest. He didn’t have another choice. But then there was another matter…

You continued to try to make him feel better. "The council will forgive you, Obi-Wan. It couldn't have been helped."

The Jedi could only nod in reply. That wasn't what worried him anymore, your logical argument had been enough to reassure him of that. What did worry him is how much he wanted it to happen again.

He glanced up at you. "What about you? Can you forgive me?"

You paused, hand stilling against the side of his head. "There's nothing to be forgiven."

"Please." He whispered against your skin. "Please just-"

It hurt you to hear the break in his voice. A man, usually so confident, reduced to this. All because of something out of his control.

You took a deep breath, stared straight ahead at the cave wall opposite you, tears in your eyes and a hand combing through his hair. "I forgive you, Obi-Wan."

A/N: I listened to Star Wars ambience on YouTube as I wrote most of this. Hope you enjoyed!