#failing another perfect all by yourself handsome

[legendofrhythm]

These freaking guys

[kkisstheladder]

╰┈➤ professor! ♡ j. yunho

⋆˚꩜  your professor wants to talk to you about your plummeting grades, so why are you now bent over his desk?

❤︎  pairing: professor!yunho x student!fem!reader . ❤︎  genre – warnings: smut (minors do NOT interact), nsfw, university au, power imbalance, unprotected sex, dubious consent, coercion, oral sex (m. receiving), throat fucking, dacryphilia, praise kink, hair pulling, slight choking, creampie, nude photos, use of ‘good girl’, ‘baby’, and ‘sweetheart’ . ❤︎  wc: 4.4k . ❤︎  notes: hi tumblr… this is 100% a fully self indulgent fic. zero shame. i'll be posting more atz, (maybe) enha, and skz too so pls stay on the lookout if u like this! <3<3<3 also im addicted to golden hour pt3… yungis wrecking me so hard rn.

⋆˚꩜ AO3 READER? ➜ here!

𝄞  tear you apart – she wants revenge

it was eerily silent when you reached the door you’ve been dreading all day. 

the footsteps echoed a little too loud as you approached, every subtle sound amplified in the dim corridor. the building was mostly empty, a few students wandering, the university hallways frozen. you can’t tell if the chills were from the temperature or something else.

you paused in front of the door. his name was etched into the frosted glass in clean black lettering: ‘Professor Jeong’. your nerves were all over the place, legs trembling as you raised your fist to the door. you knocked once.

”come in.” he said in that familiar, soothing voice, loud enough to hear, but not a shout. you opened the creaking door, hesitating just a second before stepping inside.

he was seated behind his desk, the warm golden light from the desk lamp catching all his sharpest features. his sleeves were rolled up, only slightly past his elbows neatly. he looked so beautiful sitting there. he just looked up at you, for a little too long, saying nothing at all. 

all your friends teased you about your silly crush on him, but you felt something deeper, a strange connection to him — like an invisible string tying you to one another, bound for life. he was the perfect man: compassionate, handsome, humorous, you couldn’t help but feel instantly attracted. you came to realise it would likely never happen, considering he was your professor after all, but you wished so desperately it could. 

“take a seat.” he gestured towards the chair across from him. 

you did, clutching your bag strap as you lowered yourself into the cold chair, bag rested by your side. his eyes followed the hem of your skirt, your bare thighs against the cold leather seat. you didn’t miss it. you noticed your papers sat on his desk, all marked with a big red ‘F’. the pure shame you felt was unmeasurable.

”so,” he spoke softly, setting his pen down. “struggling are we?” 

you nodded, feeling the shame building inside of you as you look down, avoiding any and all eye contact with him. “i don’t understand what happened. i’ve been following the same methods, formatting, researching…” 

he leaned back in his chair, elbows rested on the arms of his chair and hands intertwined. “and yet, you keep failing.” 

your chest tightened. “i’m sorry sir… i don’t know what i’ve done wrong.”

he tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly when he looked at you. “i really do hate seeing bright girls like you struggle.”

a shiver crept up your spine, goosebumps forming on your arms. you weren’t sure if it was from the cold in the room or the way he said it. the way he praised you. there was something about the way he looked at you — something predatory hidden beneath his sweet demeanour, and you were an innocent lamb. 

“i just… please… i need this scholarship. i can’t afford to lose it.” you sniffled, hoping it didn’t turn into a sob by the end of this discussion. your fingers dug into the bare skin of your thighs, clinging on to any source of comfort.  

his eyes darkened, leaving behind the once compassionate man, his expression now unreadable. “then we’ll have to find a way to get those grades back up, won’t we?” 

you blinked, frowning, teardrops gathering in your eyes. “yes. please. i’ll do anything.” 

the words slipped out before you could even think about them. his eyes flickered to yours in an instant, holding your gaze. 

“anything?” 

you swallowed. he hadn’t even raised his voice once, he never did, he never needed to, and yet something in the air had changed. 

“yes…” 

the silence remained for a while.

then he stood up, and slowly walked over towards a metal cabinet, reaching in to pull out some papers. he did it all so precisely, cautiously. even his steps were calculated as he made his way over to you. he sprawled the papers on his desk, right in front for you to see. he leaned back against the edge of the desk, arms folded across his chest as he looked down at you. his knee touched yours, and he didn’t move away. 

“you’ve always been one of my favourite students,” his gaze fixates on the papers, your previous essays, an ‘A’ circled with a small ‘Good work.’ under the grade. “always so eager. so attentive.” 

you couldn’t speak. his eyes were back on you, your little skirt, your innocent eyes. it was as though you were a locked door he already had the key to. 

“so why is it you’re failing my class?” he inquires, inching closer. 

“i-i don’t know…” 

he reached down slowly, fingers just brushing your chin. you stiffened, but didn’t pull away. 

“you don’t know?” he repeated.

the air between you was electric. his touch was light, but deliberate. you knew he shouldn’t be this close. he shouldn’t be touching you at all. but still, you didn’t move. 

“i’ve seen you looking at me.” he murmured. “do you think i wouldn’t?” 

then the trembling came. the dry mouth, lips parted, whilst he felt all morals slipping away. he wanted nothing more than to ruin you. break you. 

he leaned in closer, the feeling of his breath on your cheek. “do you know how hard it’s been? watching you come into class in those tiny skirts, feigning innocence?”

”that… wasn’t my intention, professor…” you gazed up at him, eyes wet, locked with one anothers.

he laughed, low, teasing. “then what was?”

his hand slipped to your jaw, and then your throat, his hand loosely wrapping around it — not tight, just enough to make your thighs clench instinctively. he noticed. 

“i could ruin you.” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “and you’d thank me for it.”

god you hated how much you wanted this. 

he released you just as slowly, hand falling back to the desk and pointing at your numerous papers. 

“i could fix this for you. one change in the system,” he paused. “but what would i get in return?” 

you practically freeze in that moment. the words sit with you, marinating in your mind, finally understanding what it is he wants. 

“i can’t… we… ca—“ he shushes you before you can say anything more. 

“be honest with me,” he whispered, inches from your face.

you nodded dumbly. his voice had a weight to it, teasingly dangling your scholarship over your head leaving you vulnerable, submissive — exactly what he wanted. 

“do you want to fix this?”

”y-yes…” 

“then ask me nicely.” 

your cheeks burned. “ask you… what?” 

“ask me to help you, sweetheart.” 

the contact made you dizzy, his slender hand cupping your jaw. you couldn’t think. 

“please… help me. i don’t want to fail.” you cry to him, pleading and begging. 

his eyes seem so sweet now as he looks at you, even though you know it’s all fake. “you’ll do anything to stay, won’t you now?” 

you swallowed whatever other words you were going to say. “yes.” 

he smiled. not sweetly, not an ounce of kindness in his smirk. the way a wolf might smile at its prey. 

“thought so.” 

his hand slid from your jaw, down the curve of your throat. his fingers lingered there once more, but he pressed harder this time. not too tight, but enough to make your breath catch. his other hand made way to your thighs, leaving the hem of your skirt. he tutted. 

“look how short this skirt is…” he uttered “you knew how this would end, didn’t you?” 

you shook your head, eyes pleading and welling up with tears. “n-no i didn’t… i didn’t know—“

”you mean to say this isn’t for me?” he almost sounds disappointed.

his grip tightened ever so slightly, light, but sending a message. one that reads as ‘i have all the control.’ 

“be honest. you wanted me to look. you liked it, didn’t you? sitting in the front row, desperately trying to get my attention, feeling my eyes on your thighs and pretending not to notice.” 

your thighs squeezed together involuntarily, the heat building between them unbearable. 

“i liked it…” you whisper, loud enough for him to hear.

”hm?”

you couldn’t look him in the eyes. “i… liked it.” 

his thumb pressed against your pulse. “look at me.” and you did just that. 

once you looked up you saw it: hunger. desperation. the loss of control in the way he looked at you, like he was starving. 

“you’ve been so good,” he murmured, finally releasing your throat as his other hand lay still on your thigh. “coming to me like this. all shy. vulnerable.” he caresses your thigh whilst leaning into your face. 

“you want me to change that grade?”

you nodded eagerly.

”then get on your knees, baby.” he demands, stern and unmoving. “show me how much you want this.” 

the words went straight through you, like you’d been shot in the heart in the best way possible. you stood on shaking legs before hesitantly lowering yourself in front of him. your knees hit the cold office floor. you look up, and he was already looking at you, like you were his newest addiction. he always had this unreadable expression, nobody knew how he was feeling, not even you. he undid his belt slowly. teasingly. his voice stayed calm, but the lust beneath it was impossible to miss.

“my perfect student.” he breathed, combing his fingers through your hair. you were his. undeniably his — to ruin, to corrupt and break. your knees were pressed to the cold floorboards, the act feeling so wrong in this quiet space. his scent was everywhere now — cologne, leather, arousal. above you, he simply smirked, a soft, sweet smile to anyone else. but to you, it was because he owned you. 

“open that pretty mouth, baby.” 

and you did. his hand tangled in your hair, gathering it all in one as he unzipped his trousers, pulling you closer and pulling himself out without shame. he was already hard, thick and swollen, and absolutely not gentle as he patted the head of his cock against your parted lips. you underestimated how big he was. 

“stick out your tongue,” he said, voice a low demand. 

you obeyed, eyes already watering. 

“i love how obedient you are when desperate,” he smirked, a devilish grin. “on your knees, crying with a cock down your throat for a grade.” 

you winced, crying even more as the shame made your thighs press tighter. 

“don’t pretend you dont love it.” he groaned, pushing forward into your mouth, dragging his dick across your tongue like he was trying to leave a mark. “you’ve wanted this since the first time you saw me.” 

then he shoved deeper, a tight grip in your hair forcing you down on him, hitting the back of your throat as he stuffs your mouth full of him, an involuntary gag coming from you with your hands flying to his thighs for support. 

“good girl,” he hissed, pulling your hair tighter, making sure you don’t go anywhere. he wants to savour this moment, the moment he breaks an innocent girl. “take all of it… let me see you cry for me.” 

tears spilled fast, your throat tightening around him as you choke. you could have tried pulling away, but you didn’t want to. every erotic noise, every humiliating word that came out of his mouth, and yet you still didn’t push back. the room echoed every lewd sound, spit bubbling, muffled coughs and splutters, the loud gasp for air you let out when he finally let you. he pulled out with a wet pop, a string of saliva connecting your lips to the tip of his cock. you coughed and gasped for air, mouth agape. 

“look at you,” he whispered, pulling your hair to look up at him. you looked at him through blurred eyes, tears masking whatever heinous expression he was making. “a fucking mess already…” 

he slapped his cock against your wet, red cheek, once or twice as he watched the next tear fall down your face. he talks to you like you were inferior to him — less than.

he pushed back in with far more force, zero mercy when it came down to you, forcing himself down your throat with a groan as he started fucking your mouth in rough, rhythmic thrusts. he knew you couldn’t breathe, but he didn’t care. you clawed at his thighs, nails digging hard enough to leave marks through his trousers. the moans and chokes coming out of you helped him all the more, encouraging him to speed up, fuck harder and faster into your mouth. the front of your grey sweater had turned dark, covered in drool and spit. you were too far gone at this point.

”cry for me, sweetheart.” he groaned in a low, raspy voice. “let me see you. see what a mess i’ve made out of such a beautiful girl.” 

the tears didn’t stop, throat burning as he filled the empty space with himself, but your panties were getting wetter by the minute. your thighs squirm, wet and needy. 

“you don’t need good grades,” he spat, tilting his head back before looking back down at you with pity in his eyes. “you need to learn how to take dick like a good girl.” 

he fucked into you as hard as possible, with no remorse and absolutely zero shame. he knew it was completely wrong to have a relationship with one of his students, to treat one this way, if anyone found out, he’d surely be fired on the spot.

especially if they knew he was failing you on purpose.

the other students were uninterested, obnoxious. but you? you were special. you craved his attention, focused on every word he spoke, watched attentively at every move he made. so, he had to do something to get some time alone with you. he found only one solution; and you fell for it completely. now kneeled before him, letting him use and abuse you, a man you hardly know anything about. 

why can’t this moment just last forever?

you winced around him, mascara smeared and tears streaming, and he couldn’t stop looking down at you — like you were the most magnificent mess he had ever seen. despite all his words, you truly were breathtaking. he might tease and insult, but there was no one quite like yourself. he couldn’t believe his plan had worked so well.

“my perfect girl… fuck…” he moaned, tilting his head back and shoving himself all the way down your throat with no room to breathe. he never wanted to let you go, to stay like this forever, you look so perfect with his cock down your throat, face red and blotchy. you could only oblige, wanting to do anything to please him. his hands gripped the back of your head, fully taking advantage of your throat, leaving bruises for later so that when you think of them you think of him. “fuck— you’re doing so well for me sweetheart.” 

then he pulled out again suddenly, spit dripping down your chin. you filled your lungs as quickly as you could, coughing and gasping for breath, holding your throat to soothe yourself. then he kneeled before you, combing your dampened hair back behind your ear, with a gentleness that shouldn’t be there.

”look at me…” he cupped your face with his other free hand, holding you gently. 

you did as you were told, gazing up at him with those big, watery eyes of yours. 

“you’d do anything for me, wouldn’t you?” 

without hesitation you nodded, eager to do whatever he says. 

“good girl.” he spoke so softly, too softly. his hand found your hair again, entangling his fingers in amongst it all, his other hand cupping your face gently as he pulled you up from the office floor, your legs trembling. 

for the first time, he kissed you. a sloppy kiss with nothing but desperation and lust — greed alongside it. he wanted more, far more than he originally planned. in an instant, he pushed your back up against the desk like it was nothing, arching as you clung onto the edge. he pressed up to you, breaking away from the kiss to whisper in your ear. 

“bend over the desk for me, will you?” it sounded much like a request, but nothing about it was. it was a demand, disguised as an offer. his calming voice made it worse. 

of course you obeyed. even if you could say no, you know you wouldn’t. you stretch across the desk, pounding chest pressed into the cold wood. he ran a hand underneath your skirt and up your thigh, fingers teasing at your underwear before he rolled your skirt up to sit just above your ass. he ran a finger between your clothed folds, shamefully soaked. 

“fuck,” he laughed, low and almost cruel, yet pleased. “this wet already? you liked choking on my dick that much?” 

he pulled your panties to the side, slipping two fingers in without warning, a loud moan escaping your lips before he shut you up with his other hand. 

“come on baby… we can’t be too loud.” he breathed down your neck, pulling you up and arching your back further, his other hand fucking in and out of you slowly, painfully slowly. “god you’re so fucking tight. it’s almost a shame to ruin you.” 

he was lying. there was no shame in what he was doing, or what he felt towards you. there was no way to describe it other than complete lust, addiction maybe. your moans were muffled by his hand, unable to contain them as he split you open with just his fingers. 

he pulled his fingers out so suddenly, pulling your panties down to sit at your knees, leaving you a sopping wet mess all over his desk. your breath came in shallow gasps as you tried to prepare yourself. he placed one hand on the small of your back, holding you down — right where he wanted you. 

“god, look at this view.” his voice was driving you insane, deep and calming as he praised you. you felt his fingers graze your thighs again, spreading your legs wider and just admiring what he owned. 

the shock that hit when you felt him, teasing you with the head of his cock at your entrance, was a feeling you’ll never forget. sliding his tip through the slick between your folds with slow, deliberate strokes. he wasn’t in a rush, making this all the more perfect and somehow worse. he wanted to savour the moment. savour you.

uncontrollable moans came out of your mouth as he pushed into you, inch by inch until he bottomed out, staying there momentarily. you winced and gasped, nails scratching at the wooden surface for some sort of comfort to grab onto. he stretched you in the best way, forcing your walls to adjust to the shape of him. he leaned down and whispered into your ear, pulling you up by the hair to make sure you hear him.

“you take me all so well baby…” he groaned, tugging your hair so hard it was enough to make you wince out, breath hot against your cheek. “you like this? you like letting me use you, huh?” 

“yes… please — fuck — give me more…” 

he hissed as he pulled out and thrusted back in immediatly with a snap of his hips. you choked a moan, brains scrambled as he set a rough rhythm, brutal but precise. his fingers curled tighter in your hair as he fucked you faster.

“that’s right, take every inch…” his voice was so calming for a situation like this, soothing. your body jolted with every thrust in, his cock hitting so deep it made you dizzy. he kept your head held back, arched perfectly for him, his free hand sliding to grip your throat again. 

“so fucking good for me,” he murmured, soft and gentle. “so pretty with your face soaked in tears.” 

you hadn’t stopped crying — was it shame? disappointment? pure bliss? who’s to say, but you couldn’t get enough of him. he made you feel so good, the length, the pace, the praise, like you were his favourite sin. you cried for him more, face wet with your own tears as more streamed down.

”there she is,” he praised. “my perfect pupil. no one else gets to see you like this, nobody but me.” 

he pulled you back further until you were arched into him, face looking back to lock eyes with his. there was nothing but lust in his eyes, not love. lust. pure desire and desperation, determined to keep you his forever. 

“stay mine forever… please…” for once he begged. not pitiful, possessive. your knees almost buckled until he caught you, arm around your waist to hold you in place while he fucked you through it. you felt so oddly secure, safe in his arms as he slammed into you. you felt deserving of this, like you had earned it, you were the professors favourite after all.

”you hear how wet you are for me?” he breathed into your ear, kissing up and down your neck any chance he got, leaving behind dark bruises on your delicate skin. the sound of your bodies, lewd and obscene, echoed throughout the office. he wanted you to be quiet but couldn’t stay quiet himself, not when he thought you were the most perfect girl for him.

”sounds like you’ve been waiting for this moment, huh?” 

“i— fuck! — i have…” you spoke through broken moans, the desk shaking by this point, scraping across the floor, everything falling off. you spotted your papers, scrunched a bit and messied from the fallout. it reminded you why you were there, because of those essays. your eyes flickered to the ‘Good work.’ on one of your best papers, and couldn’t believe that is where this all started. your little teacher crush, now fucking into you with so much force you wont be able to walk into class tomorrow. 

“you make me so proud, baby,” he was right next to your ear, exhausted breathing breaking the words apart. “giving me everything i want, letting me fuck you so deep…” 

a high-pitched moan escaped your lips as he spoke, followed by his hand over your mouth once again, shutting you up for the time being. a part of you wanted someone to overhear, grow envious of your position, but the shame you felt stopped you. suddenly his thrusts slowed, just enough to let you feel every inch of him inside of you, his cock shaping your walls. 

“i want you to remember this,” he moaned out with every thrust. “everytime you sit in my class, you’ll think of what happened here.” 

you moaned into his hand with every movement from him, eyes watering and legs trembling. his mouth found your shoulder, kissing along it, nibbling at some points as his hand dropped from your mouth. you tried to contain your own moans until he pushed so deep into you his name came out in a low, soft whisper — not ‘sir’, or ‘professor’, his name, a trembling moan that sounded like a prayer. 

he slammed into you again, faster this time, breathing heavy, your words having flipped a switch in his brain. his grip tightened on your hip, using your body like it belonged to him. 

“you gonna let me cum inside, beautiful?” 

“y-yes… need it — i need you,” 

and that was all the confirmation he needed. he groaned, loud, deep, fucking you through it. his thrusts were sharp, hips smashing into yours until he came, cock twitching deep inside you as he buried himself to the hilt.

he stood there for a moment, his body up against yours, breathing heavily, hand still intertwined in your hair, his other digging his nails into your hip. and then, so softly, he spoke:

”my perfect student...”

you didn’t move. you couldn’t. just stayed there, slumped over his desk, his cum dripping from your aching cunt, reddened cheeks still wet from your tears. your body trembled for so long after he pulled out. 

you didn’t even hear his hand move, the subtle sound of fabric shifting and the unmistakable click. you flinched slightly from the unexpected noise.

”don’t tense baby,” his hand stroked your ass, still on full display for his perfect photo. “just stay like that for me, i want to remember you like this.”

you flinched as his thumb spread your folds, the camera clicking once more.

”god, look at that.” he spoke in a low whisper. “my perfect mess, stretched and leaking.”

his praise made your heart flutter, even now as you are laid spread on his desk, at your most vulnerable, a shy smile on your face.

“you took it so well, baby.” his fingers traced your spine, tingling from where he grazed. “just to keep that scholarship.”

he leaned down, voice brushing your ear. “to keep me happy.”

you whimpered as he spoke, unintelligble words, but he was already reaching down to pull your panties back into place, useless now really. he fixed your skirt, pulling it back down and handling you with such care. there wasn’t much to do about your sweater, covered in sweat and drool. he was now facing you, hands rested on your hips. 

“take this off lovely,” his fingers tugged at the bottom of your sweater, pulling it off of you, leaving you with nothing but a black tank top. “still just as beautiful.” 

you can’t tell if his words were genuine, but you couldn’t care less. his hands cupped your face, your eyes blank and dazed.

”still with me sweetheart?” he was so sweet now, the sudden change in his voice so different from him earlier. you nodded, looking up at him with puppy eyes. he smiled at that, proudly.

”you did so fucking well.” his thumb grazed your cheek, providing an ounce of comfort. “so pretty when you cry.” 

you blinked at him, lips parted and eyes glossed over, like in a trance. his lips touched your forehead, an act of love — but here? it was anything but. 

your legs trembled as you began to move away, smiling at him so sweetly, innocently. 

“next time,” his voice hushed, his body still close to yours. he smirked at you “don’t be late tomorrow, maybe if we have a spare 15 minutes…”

you nod.

maybe you’ll show up an hour early instead.

[elixirfromthestars]

Boulevard Confessions

Pairing: 1940s!Bucky Barnes x Nurse!Reader 

Summary: Being a third wheel to Peggy and Steve wasn't your ideal Thursday night fun. However, when they tell you Bucky is tagging along you eagerly decide to join them. That is until a third party makes its presence known.

Word Count: 3.6k

Warning(s): drinking / fluff / jealousy / divergent from canon timeline / suggestive language / tipsy symptoms / mentions of war + the hardships that came with it

a/n:  Here’s a little piece that’s been sitting unfinished in my drafts for ages. For context, this timeline is one where Steve and Bucky both made it back from the war safe and sound and are enjoying their lives now that the war is over. Thank you for reading! ₊˚⊹♡ As a little psa my writing challenge is still ongoing!! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!! ♡

for ambiance 🎶

“ I am about to spew my dinner all over this table,” you grimace, downing the rest of your martini. The bitterness of the spirits was lost on you as your consumption grew in time with your sour mood.

Peggy eyed you from across the table, holding back her amusement, “ If you keep stuffing your face with martinis you will.” You reach out to grab another unclaimed drink, but before you could, Peggy slid the rest of them away from you. You crossed your arms, blowing out a resigned sigh. Even in your inhibited state, you knew better than to argue with an SSR agent. 

Peggy shook her head at you, “ As your best friend I have an obligation to put a stop to this. Don’t you have a shift tomorrow at the clinic?” Your eyes went wide at the reminder. 

You slump in the booth, dreading the bad hangover awaiting you in the morning. “ I do, but thankfully it's in the afternoon. I won’t feel it by then. . .” You trailed off, failing to convince Peggy, or yourself, you wouldn’t be miserable at work tomorrow. Peggy turned to look at the dance floor before returning her attention to you, “ You know, maybe you should dance the dizzy away. It might help you sober up.” Your lips purse at her suggestion, noticing a certain blonde-haired blue-eyed super soldier returning from the bathroom.

 “ It's easy for you to say. You have a dance partner,” you motioned over to Steve. 

“ You would too if you would only go up and ask him,” she pointed out. 

You glanced at the dancing couples, “ No way. With the way that leech is clinging on to him—I’d never get one word in.”

She shrugged, “ You’ll never know until you try.” These were her parting words before Steve arrived at the table and escorted her onto the dance floor. You watched them, your head bopping along tiredly to the swing music. 

Maybe you should have stayed home. 

You almost didn’t come to the outing—being the third wheel to Peggy and Steve wasn’t exactly your ideal Thursday night fun. However, Peggy had mentioned Bucky would come along, and seeing as you hadn’t seen him in a few weeks due to conflicting schedules, you thought this would be the perfect opportunity to catch up. 

That was until the leech—a woman named Darla—decided to hog Bucky all night. Darla had been trying to get with Bucky for over a month now. You found this out tonight when Steve made a comment about it. Bucky hadn’t paid it much importance, so you thought it must have not been anything serious. However, right about the time you and Bucky were starting to catch up, Darla came over and dragged him away. 

Since then you’ve been inhaling martinis like your lungs preferred them over air. 

You couldn’t help the way your eyes drifted over to Bucky’s figure. Handsome as ever in his navy suit—your favorite color on him—and hair neatly combed. Watching as Darla threw herself at him with the courage that you lacked. Pulling him every which way on the dance floor, holding his hands to her hips in a tight grip. 

Your stomach contents were threatening to come up again. 

When did things get so complicated? You scratched at your brain for an answer. Spending time with Bucky had been so easy back at the military base where you met. You were stationed there in the medical unit caring for wounded and ill soldiers. During that time, you became great friends with Peggy and everyone on the Howling Commandos team. Bucky would frequently visit the medical unit even when he wasn’t sick or wounded. Sometimes you swore he would fake injuries or aches just to come and see you. Anytime he came in with something new he would refuse to see any other nurse but you.

It made you feel special. While other women were smitten with his charms and stumbled over seizing his attention—you had it without effort. You had so much more than just his attention without even trying. On hopeless nights he shared his fears, on days where the war seemed endless you eased his worries, and when he felt like the world was crashing down on him his heart spilled all vulnerabilities to you. 

You found refuge from the horrors of war in each other—a balm to each other’s wounds that went beyond the physical. In no time, something deeper for him bloomed within your heart. 

Ever since the war was over, however, things have been different. It’s been a couple of years and Steve and Bucky work alongside Peggy for the Strategic Scientific Reserve. Going on missions has become their norm, so seeing your friends is a rarity nowadays. 

You on the other hand were given a job at a children’s clinic in Brooklyn. You were grateful for this small piece of normality coming back to you. Treating smaller wounds on smaller bodies instead of lethal wounds during a relentless battle. Your senses are permanently burned with sights, sounds, and smells horrific enough to induce nightmares—and they do—managing to steal precious hours of sleep from you almost every night.

It was something you and Bucky especially bonded over.

“ May I have the honor of a dance, gorgeous?” A voice interrupted your thoughts. You looked up to meet a pair of unrecognizable hazel eyes. A handsome stranger stood in front of you, his hand outstretched for you to take. If you had but only one percentage less of alcohol in your system you would have declined his offer. This of course wasn’t the case, and not wanting to reminisce on more melancholy thoughts, you decided to listen to Peggy’s advice and dance the dizzy away.

Even if it wasn’t with the man you wanted to dance with.

“ You may,” you smiled at him, taking hold of his hand. Swiftly you were swept into the sea of couples on the dance floor. The handsome stranger—who you soon learn was named Thomas—was an impeccable dancer. With one hand holding yours, and the other holding you gently at your lower back, he spun you around the dance floor in rhythmic kicks and slides. Thomas’ energy was infectious and you couldn’t help but match his enthusiasm. 

After two dances your footwork and Thomas’ were practically synchronized. Thomas twirled you, causing a giggle to escape your lips. It seemed the alcohol was stubborn about staying in your system as the twirl caused the dizziness to come back—for a split second—making you trip over your own foot. Thomas caught you and steadied you, both of you laughing at your clumsiness. The carefreeness of it all lulled the ache in your heart.

Behind Thomas, you caught a glimpse of Peggy who was dancing as joyfully with Steve. Her eyes met yours and she sent you an encouraging smile. Soon after, her eyes drifted to something behind you, turning her smile into a smirk. You went back to dancing with Thomas, but manoeuvered around to get a look at what caused Peggy to smirk. Your heart did a little jump when you discovered she had been looking at Bucky and Darla, dancing a few feet from where you were. 

Correction. She had been staring at a Bucky you barely recognized. His jaw clenched and body rigid as he glared daggers at the back of Thomas’ head. Darla beside him looked snubbed, tugging on Bucky’s arm to get his attention. His tense demeanor didn’t move an inch no matter how much she protested. The pair were no longer dancing, merely standing in the sea of all the couples. This piqued your curiosity. 

Why had he stopped dancing? And to glare at Thomas of all things?

You didn’t have much time to think about it as Darla, clearly fed up by Bucky’s lack of attention, grabbed him by his arm and pulled him away from the dance floor. You swayed to and fro with Thomas, controlling the direction you were swinging in to try and not lose Bucky from your line of sight. 

Where was Darla taking him?

Your heart stopped when you realized where they were going. Darla was making a beeline for the back of the bar where the honey hallway was. The spot where all the couples went to have a little more privacy and fool around without having to leave the bar. If he was going there with Darla, then maybe things were more serious between them than you previously believed.

Your heart dropped to your stomach when reality sank in. 

You excused yourself from Thomas, scurrying away in need of some fresh air. He offered to follow along, but you declined wanting to be alone. You threw the entrance door open into the Brooklyn night as a sickly feeling spread throughout your body. 

You stepped into the street, the swing music fading into the background as the door closed behind you. You took in a deep breath, once again regretting the amount of alcohol you had consumed.

If you weren’t drunk seeing Bucky with someone else wouldn’t have hurt so much. It wouldn’t have knocked the air out of your lungs like it's doing now.

You know that’s a lie. That’s a damn lie you’re telling yourself to get you through the night. To give you the strength to focus on your surroundings and trudge home. 

You’d eventually do that. First, however, your body seemed to want to cling to a street lamp to bring the world back to you. The cold metal underneath your palms grounding you for a moment. The breeze blowing past you threading through your hair as if to comfort you.

“ Doll, everything alright?” Your heart stuttered when you heard his voice, the thud of the bar door closing following it. You shut your eyes and bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from saying or doing anything the liquid courage in your system was trying to wrestle out of you. 

You knew you needed to make a quick getaway. 

“ I’m fine. Just heading home,” you were straight to the point before turning to walk away. Not looking at him as you put one foot in front of the other—and then stumbled. 

Bucky caught you, his arms offering a strong support,“ Woah, Y/n, how much did you drink?” There was a slight annoyance in his tone. As if the mere thought of you having fun was preposterous. 

Or at least that’s how your tipsy state interpreted it.

“ Doesn’t matter. I can have a drink or two if I want to. I get to have fun too,” you retort, trying to push his arms away from your body. Your arms are no match for his, as he doesn’t budge an inch—on the contrary, his hold gets more firm. The world started to spin more, but at this point, whether it was because of the martinis or his proximity—you wouldn’t know. 

Bucky huffed and rolled his eyes,“ This isn’t having fun. This is going overboard,” he counters. His constant need to hold you steady and scold you for drinking irked the part of you that was already upset with him—fueling it more. Especially when you had the image of him heading to the honey hallway with Darla ingrained in your brain. And his arms, the ones around you now, swinging her around on the dancefloor. 

There was something dark bubbling an envious brew within you. 

“ Why do you give a damn?” you snap out harshly. He stills at your tone and it's enough to shake his hold off of you. You force yourself to look at him. Intending to shoot him an annoyed glare. Something to convey what your heart felt when your words failed to—but when your eyes met his you froze. 

They were dark—virtually stormy—and yet, there was a hint of pain in them. Almost as if you had kicked him, but he was toughing it out.

“ What was that about?” He finally spoke after what seemed like too long. 

“ What was what about?” You feigned innocence. 

His eyes got darker, a disapproving half smile on his face,“ Don’t play coy. I come out here to check on you. You’re stumbling like a drunk fool. I try to help and you snap at me?” 

“ I didn’t ask you to,” you’re quick with your dismissal.

“ You…unbelievable…” Bucky lets out a scoff, not knowing how to respond. He doesn’t know what’s gotten into you. In his mind, you’re simply too drunk to regulate yourself. He doesn’t know the vile jealousy that bubbles in the pit of your stomach and gnaws at your heart. He doesn’t know the intense battle your emotions are having with your brain—right in front of him—to stay silent before you truly say something you cannot take back. 

“ Go back inside. I’m heading home,” you say simply, not wanting to dwell on this conversation any longer. You feared what might come of it if you didn’t.

“ No. I'm walking you home,” he shakes his head firmly, his tone matching in conviction. 

“ No, you're not,” you reply, turning to make your way down the boulevard. Bucky pinches the bridge of his nose, “ Like hell I'm not, doll. I'm not letting you walk home alone.” 

“I'm not letting you walk me home. I don't want you to,” you say adamantly as your feet start moving. Bucky is right beside you as they do, not letting you get away,“ I don't care what you want or don't want. I'm walking you home and that's final.” His voice leaves no room for argument. 

The martinis in your system don’t particularly give a damn, but it is enough to quiet you for the time being. Your speed increases slightly, but Bucky can match it easily. For a moment you consider running—as ridiculous as an idea that may be. 

The sharp patter of your footsteps against the pavement synchronizes with the thudding of his as they mingle down the boulevard. The city sounds around you are an otherwise low hum of the occasional car and distant conversation. The city still whispering its signs of life at this time of night.

The walk to your place isn’t too far. And you know if you don’t shake him off soon there would be an unpleasant conversation awaiting you when you arrive.  

“ Don’t you have someone waiting on you at the bar?” You remind him with a little sting to your heart. Secretly hoping this wasn’t the reason he’d walk away from you.

Bucky frowns, thinking for a moment before speaking,“ What? You mean Darla?” The sound of her name on his lips bristles you. 

“ Yeah, her,” the word her spills from your lips as if it was venomous. Bucky catches that and is taken aback for a second. His footsteps coming to a stop. You push yourself to keep walking. Taking this as a sign to ignore the tiny part of your brain that begs you to stop moving.

Not a minute later Bucky strides to your side,“ Doll…are you jealous?” He asks with the tiniest bit of doubt, his small smile overshadowing it. 

“ Me? Ha! No,” your denial is quick—too quick. His small smile turns into a wide grin. You’ve just confirmed his conjecture,“ Yes, you are.” 

“ No. Go ahead and marry her for all I care. I won’t be at the wedding anyway,” you don’t mean what you say and yet you said it anyway. Playing up the indifference act you’ve dawned. 

“ You won’t be at my wedding?” He’s not upset when he responds, he's amused. He has to hold back his laughter at your train of thought. This gets under your skin and you grumble a snippy no before picking up your pace. You’re now imagining Darla in a wedding dress next to Bucky in his suit and it does devastating things to you. 

“ That’s impossible.”

“ How so? I just won’t go.”

His tone takes a more serious turn when he replies, “ It’ll be hard to have a wedding without the bride there.” You come to a halt, your head whipping so fast to look at him you almost gave yourself whiplash.

“ What?” You manage to find your voice. His gaze softens,“ You heard me, doll.” He’s being completely sincere—you know this deep down. However, there’s still a part of you that doesn’t believe this is happening. That believes this to be a dream.

“ You don’t mean that.”

“ I do. If you were to ask me where I see forever—I see it with you.”

His confession takes your breath away. The mere admission of him thinking of you as his eternity—as the one he wants beside him for life—your heart could burst at how delightfully overwhelmed it feels. 

“ But you—” you start and his pointer finger gently presses against your lips to shush you. He already knows what you’re about to bring up and he needs to nip it before your drunken mind jumps to wilder conclusions.

“ She’s just a friend. She’s a secretary at the SSR—nothing more. I was dancing with her to be nice. Honestly, I was trying to find a polite way to leave her and get back to you until I saw you dancing with that guy,” he removes his finger from your lips once he’s done explaining. At the mention of Thomas, his jaw clenches briefly and annoyance flashes in his eyes. 

It dawns on you why he was glaring at Thomas earlier. The realization of Bucky having felt as jealous as you did sends your heart ablaze. Your heart had gone through so much tonight, you were surprised it hadn’t gone into cardiac arrest already. 

“ Who’s the jealous one now?” you tease, an almost giddy smile on your face. 

Bucky rolls his eyes playfully,“ Yeah, doll. Unlike you, I’ll admit it. I was jealous. I don’t like seeing you with another man. Laughing and dancing—should've been me, not him,” he says stepping closer to you. His eyes reflected pure adoration.

“ Why didn’t you ask me?” your question comes out quieter than you’d like. Enamored with the way he’s looking at you. You can barely focus on anything else. 

“ Because when it comes to you I get all nervous and worked up. It's like I’m a punk again—a dumb kid with a crush. I don’t want to mess it up with you, Y/n. I would never want to do anything to lose you. Guess I got too caught up in doing things right I didn’t do anything at all,” Bucky opens up to you, his answer shedding away any last bit of hesitance in your body.

“ Bucky…I wish it would’ve been you instead too,” you say softly, stepping closer until you’re only a few inches away from him. His features match yours in fondness as he gently reaches out to grab hold of your waist, pulling you even closer, and closing the final bit of distance between you.

Your hands rest delicately at his chest. You can feel the way his heart races under your fingertips, drawing out a small gasp from you. Knowing you had this effect on him delighted you. It made you wonder how long you had been making him feel this way—and how long you had missed the signs.

“ Told you. I’m a dumb kid with a crush,” he reiterates with a soft chuckle. You giggle at his words, beaming dreamily at the way that all of this is real. That Bucky has feelings for you, and you two can only grow closer from here on out.

For a split second his eyes dart to your mouth. Having you so close like this tempts Bucky to no end. Everything he’s ever wanted to do with you crosses his mind and it drives him crazy. He has no idea where to start or if he’ll even let himself start anywhere. 

Your body thrums with anticipation as it waits for him to make a move.  

Bucky ends up tenderly kissing your forehead, “ Come on, doll. Let’s get you home.” Your lips form a light pout, disappointed his lips didn’t touch yours. He sees your reaction and he laughs, giving your hips a light squeeze, “ Doll, our first kiss will happen after you get that alcohol out of your system,” he says, one hand reaching up to lightly swipe at your nose—finding you endearing. 

“ We’ve already had our first kiss.” 

“ Doll we—oh, we have…” 

The memory of you two drunkenly kissing in the medical tent on one particularly lonely night during the war flashes through your minds. The already tension between you rising to a palpable form. 

There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes,“ Still. If I’m being honest, I’m not stopping at just one kiss. So let’s wait until you’re sober, alright?”

“ Not stopping?” Your tone is playful as you pry for further explanation. 

“ Oh no, doll. I'll be doing so much more than kissing you,” he smirks, his words laced with suggestion. His hand goes out to cup your face, caressing your cheek. It warms under his fingertips at his implication. The air around you buzzes with electricity. 

He can tell where your mind went and he’s enjoying every second of it,“ Yeah, doll. Like taking you out on a proper date,” he winks at you. A genuine laugh erupts from you at the way he side steps what he really meant. He joins you in the laughter, his eyes telling you the truth of what he really desires.

You. Every bit of you.

You interlace your fingers with his, knowing deep down he has a point. When you kiss Bucky you want to be all there. You want all your senses to be fully awake to drink in every bit of him. 

Especially if it goes farther than a kiss.

Bucky moves you over so he’s walking on the outermost part of the sidewalk, holding your interlaced hands to his waist so you’re pressed right up against his side as you walk. You tease and playfully banter all the way to your apartment. The unspoken promises and unmistakable yearning for one another dancing around you two. Assuring you there was so much more to come. 

[dissolvedprincess]

imagine just having the freedom to have your hands all over frank castle. idk what it is but lately I've been really into tipsy!reader and frank, but just coming home from being out and him being in just a pair of sweats, being able to kiss and rub and trace every scar, every hair, HIS NOOOOOOSE. I fear we as a people don't talk about his nose enough it's genuinely perfection in my eyes. just that, being all pretty for frank while you get him worked up. depending on the severity of your intoxication he may or may not let it go further, also depends on how bad you're teasing him🤭

Thank you for this super fun request dear anon! This one turned out to be a favorite of mine and i hope i did your vision justice. Enjoy!!

Nobody but you

꒰ Frank Castle x Fem reader ꒱

✷ CW : 18+, intoxication, unprotected pinv, fluff, established relationship

(Not proofread)

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶

These fucking heels were killing you.

The room was spinning and you couldn’t find your goddamn keys. “Son of a bitch…” Your acrylic nails made it more difficult for your hands to effectively rummage around your purse. You start to frantically dig harder only to quickly pause as Frank’s voice echoed in the back of your head, “Hey come on— i’ll pay ‘em off for you. It’s nothing, i like doing this for you.”

The interruption granted you a moment of sobriety and it proved to be effective when your fingers curled around a familiar shape. “Hell yeah.”

You step inside to find the already dark apartment with only one source of illumination from the side of the couch; cascading the room with a dim, yellow light. Once the door closed, you brace your back on it and let out a relieved breath.

“I’m homee babyyy!” You call out, knowing Frank would stay up as long as he needs to make sure you arrive home safe from your bi-weekly hang outs with your friends. Though the intent on having a smooth arrival was interrupted by a shooting pain that went up your leg. “Ow! Fuck! Stupid fucking-“

“Hey sweetheart— whole lotta cursing there! You good?” Frank’s voice echoed from somewhere inside the apartment.

“My heels! Ugh. They’re hurting me.” You crouch down to fumble with the straps that was tightly wrapped around your ankle. “Pleasee God just this one time….gimme a break.” You whined.

“Need any help?”

“Nope!” You let out with an over exaggerated ‘P’.

After another failed attempt, you crumbled to sit on the floor in exhaustion, causing a small thud to echo in the room. As if a loyal dog, the noise quickly beckoned Frank’s attention away from his book, and before you could struggle by yourself further, you hear him padding towards you. Like clockwork.

Maybe it was the alcohol in your system, but you couldn’t deny the fact that you feel a spark of arousal in the pit of your stomach at the sight of him crouching in front of you. Frank looked freshly showered and he smelled so nice. The grey sweatpants he had on has always been your favorite. Although tempting, you could never tell him that; not when you could freely ogle at his bulge without him knowing.

Your eyes trailed from his hands to his flexing arms, working to gently take off your heels. He looked strong and untouchable in the white wife beater. The shape of it further emphasizing his prominent muscles.

“Frank…baby you don’t need to be doing all this.” You affectionately stroked the back of his hand with your palm.

“Quiet.” He gruffed. “I like-“

“Doing this for you.” You finish for him.

Frank’s dark eyes flicked briefly to meet yours in acknowledgment and he tried his best to downplay the smile that blossomed. “That’s right.”

“Soooo sweet, my Frankie.” You mumbled as your fingers raked through his cropped hair. “So handsome too.” He stiffened slightly as you sneaked the line in.

Frank doesn’t always react outwardly to things, he prefers to keep things close; never to let it be seen by anyone. Unfortunately for him, you make it difficult for him to do so. Especially when you make him all flustered and shy, like molten butter under the sun.

Frank cleared his throat as he placed your heels back on the shoe rack. “S’nothing.” You replied with a hum.

“Tell me what hurts.”

“I think my right leg’s crampin’ babe.” He then went to sit and pulled your leg over his lap. His hands were gentle as they massaged the tender area, but you still winced at his touch. “Let me know if i’m goin’ too hard.”

“No no, it’s good. Feels really good baby.”

You lean back on your hand and chased after his face with the other. Thumb coming up to swipe over a scar that’s formed on his cheek.

His hands trailed from your calf to your thighs, straightening out and relaxing your muscles. Frank wasn’t trying to start anything and you knew that. But how can you not get aroused as he inches to your upper thigh.

“Y’wanna know something babe?” You start, mind itching to distract yourself from his touch.

“What?”

“They talked my ear off about their shitty boyfriends, aaalll night. Apparently, all of ‘em hate listening to their girls—“ You pause to curse as he pressed on a tender spot.

“But they looove to just sit on their asses and fuck—they’re selfish pricks! Especially in bed. It’s a shame to hear my girls claim that there’s just no more proper men left in the world.” You frowned. Frank loves it when you go off on your drunken chatter.

“That so?” His tone amused.

You couldn’t stop the drunken giggle that promptly escaped, “Yep, and duh of course i disagreed. I mean, look at you!” You exclaimed with a roll of your eyes, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re like, the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Before you could catch Frank’s flustered reaction, “Also, do you remember Mia?”

He nodded, fingers still working their magic on your leg.

“She- fuck.” You held another laugh before continuing, “She swears the guy she’s dating has the smallest, tiniest micro dick. But- but, listen to this yeah.” You ramble as you waved your pointer finger to prove a point.

Frank smiled as he listened to you intently.

“They haven’t fucked yet. But she swears it cuz he has the skinniest nose she’s ever seen on a guy! Like isn’t that soo crazy!?”

“Wouldn’t know much about that sweetheart.” He then breathed out a small laugh.

In response, you put a hand on your chest and scoffed, face twisting in confusion, “Oh? Well well welllll Frankie, i beg to differ my love.”

Cocking a brow in amusement he threw a look your way and chuckled.

You narrowed your eyes, “Can you guess what she said next?”

He stopped moving his hands and rested them on your thigh instead, softly stroking up and down.

“Nope.” He uttered.

“How lucky i am that i have a boyfriend with a decent sized nose, that technically leans towards the bigger side.” You continue with a smug expression plastered on your face.

The both of you burst into laughter as you finished your story. Your heart ached as you watched him openly laugh, body shaking and struggling to contain himself. It’s a rare occurrence. Which is why you’re savoring every moment of it now. A small time away from the darkness that digs its claws into him often.

Bottom lip captured between your teeth, you smiled at him as your joined laughter naturally dies down. He leaned his head on the wall and threw you another look with a smile on his face. Both your eyes meeting to seemingly be stuck in a trance; silently communicating.

“Shit. All this talk about noses got me feeling horny.” You joked, body slowly shuffling to get on top of him and he welcomes it. His broad palm settled on your hips, affection fogging up his features. “I’m glad to hear my nose got you all worked up.” He shoots back with a sly smirk.

You giggled again before leaning in to lick the seam of his lips. He responds by sucking your tongue into his mouth; slowly. Equally savoring your taste. The kisses quickly deepened and the gentleness seemed to fade as soon as it started.

Your hips start to slowly move in his hold, testing the waters still. Eager to find out how far he’s willing to go. Frank’s answer was apparent as he helped you ground your pussy harder, pulling and pushing you along the length of his cock. The glide made easier by your own arousal that was starting to seep out of your panties.

“I’m so fucking horny Frank.” You mumble into his mouth. “I want you to fuck me.” Moaning softly against his mouth as you felt the head of his dick push against your clothed clit just right. He mindlessly start to massage your ass, leading your legs to wrap around his hips. He parts from you and leans back to voice out, “Hold on to me.”

He stood up and walks over to the couch, with you in his arms. You couldn’t help but suck dark marks into his neck as he’s walking. Teasing bites trace up to nibble on his lobe.

You expected him to dump you into the couch and fuck you into it. But you were pleasantly surprised to find him turning to fall backwards into it. The drop jostled your body slightly, causing you to press against his bulge. You rose up and threaded your fingers under the edge of your short dress and peeled it over your head. Leaving you bare in just your soaked panties.

Frank licked his lips and swiped a thumb over your pebbled nipple. “No bra tonight huh?” You feel his cock twitch under you.

You respond with a shake of your head, “Nuh uh. Best decision ever i think.”

“So beautiful.” He whispered and before you could say anything else. Frank cupped your breast and gave it a soft squeeze, running his thumb over a nipple, giving it a gentle pull. His lips suddenly came up to wrap around the other. You whimper when you feel him swirl his tongue around it with the occasional nibble.

Your cunt ached for more friction, so you plant your hands on his shoulders and you continue to grind back and forth on his erection.

Frank pulls off you with a pop to groan. Your teasing movements felt like torture, not fully satisfying. He could feel your wetness start to seep through his sweatpants. He tightened his grip around your hip to stop your grinding.

“Hold on sweetheart. Get up on your knees for a sec.”

You whimper and complained, “But you feel too good.”

“Do you want my dick in you or not?” He challenged, his own patience is wearing thin.

So you obliged. Struggling a bit to hover above him.

Frank got up slightly to push his sweatpants down. Not all the way, just enough to get his dick out, and you almost drooled at the sight.

He wasn’t wearing any underwear.

You let out a shaky breath as he thumbed your panties to the side; exposing your cunt to the cold air. Fingers slipping between your folds, feeling your wetness.

“Fuck baby. You weren’t lyin’ huh.” He then begins to push a finger into you, slowly dragging it in and out. Feeling out your walls and you bit your lip to muffle your noises as he pushed in a second finger. Leaving room for the slick noises of Frank fingering you to be heard.

“Shit.”

Frank shuffled closer and sucked your nipple into his mouth again, briefly this time; opting to lick up your neck instead. Softly nipping to leave his own set of marks.

“Frankie….” You whine, hand coming up to cradle his head.

His fingers were still thrusting rhythmically inside you, expertly causing you to arch further into his touch. But it wasn’t what you wanted.

“Frankieeee…Come on, put it in already. Please.” You attempt to pull off his fingers but his hand swiftly shot up to hold on to your waist as he jack hammered his fingers inside you.

“Fuck!” You yelp. His dick was so close, it was right there. Taunting you in all its glory.

He laid back to take your form in. “Not yet.” He growled.

“I want you to come for me once first.”

You threw your head back as you crumbled. He fucked his fingers into you harsher, palm now slapping against your swollen clit.

“Fffffuckk!” Your eyes roll back as you felt yourself cumming, giving yourself fully to the sensation. His fingers slow a bit as your muscles convulsed, giving you a semblance of a break.

“Atta girl.” He praised.

You closed your eyes and took ragged breaths as you came down from your high. Mouth still open to release soft noises of satisfaction.

Though your moment of rest was short lived. Your eyes shot open at the sound of something ripping.

“Frank!”

He threw what remained of your panties to somewhere around the room and was quick to grab hold of his dick.

“Breathe sweetheart.” He sighed out before pushing his whole girth inside of you in one swoop.

The stretch was imposing, but it was nothing you haven’t dealt with before.

With no time to waste, Frank starts to move in and out of your slick pussy and you tighten around him. Sucking him in, until his tip is lodged against your cervix. Always so deep in this position.

You collapsed into his chest weakly, body no longer strong enough to hold yourself up, and all you could do was take.

“Mmmh..Yesyesyes..fuuuuckkk..yesbaby. So fucking good.” You babble.

Frank fucked up into you just like you wanted, unforgiving and precise. Bottoming out at an angle that makes your stomach clench. His hands are suddenly on your ass to give it a few slaps. He groaned as he felt your cunt flutter around him from the act.

“Y’like that?”

You weakly nod as your drool seeps into his shirt.

He pounds into you harder now, the noises getting wetter, sloppier and stickier. With sweat running down his forehead from the exertion. So you aid him in his efforts to take you both to the peak and fucked back onto his dick to the best of your abilities. You’re sobbing, tears flowing out from the mind-melting pleasure.

You then feel his thrust start to falter. So you press into him, clawing at his shoulders, trembling.

“I’m gonna fucking cum.” He groaned into your ear and you swear the sound of him turns you on even more.

“Cum inside, fill me up. Please!”

You couldn’t tell how hard you were screaming. It felt like you lost control of your body, your voice, everything. It was all his to control, you had no say in anything.

With a final thrust of his hips, you reach your high. White sparks burst behind your lids as you came all over him. Frank kept his hand on your ass as he reached his own climax. Squeezing them roughly to make sure you don’t move a muscle as he pumped his cum inside you. Getting it as deep as it possibly could. Moaning as your cunt milked him dry.

To no surprise, his come was slipping down your thighs, your cunt already stuffed too full. Inconveniently dripping to his sweatpants as well.

“Damn. You’re getting me wet all over sweetheart.” He teased you fondly. Pushing you off his chest gently to take off his drooled-up shirt and letting you slump on his chest again now that he’s bare.

“M’sorry.” You mumble. “Can’t move.”

You felt a rumble in his chest as he chuckled deeply. “It’s okay baby. You’re good where you are.” He plants a kiss on your forehead as he wrapped his arms around you.

It took all of your strength to look up at him, “You make me so happy y’know that?” You murmured.

He looked down and his eyes soften at the sight of you. The corners of his mouth tipped upward at your statement.

“You do so much for me and i can only hope that i’m the same kind of person for you as well Frank.”

A heavy sigh flowed from him before he leaned over to kiss you.

“You’re much more than that to me sweetheart.”

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶

Pulled a goddamn all nighter to finish this one because it kept screaming and tugging at me to complete for you guys. I seriously don’t know if anything makes sense, will be checking everything again once i finish my morning run. Oh,fun fact the nose conversation was inspired by a real conversation that me and my friend had lmao, i thought it was hilarious and so on theme.

Anyway,thank you so much for reading! You guys make me so happy and remember that likes, comments, reblogs make me even more so!

[alicentofhightower]

being the targtower’s youngest sister would include…

pairings: platonic!alicent hightower x daughter!reader, platonic!aegon targaryen x sister!reader, platonic!helaena targaryen x sister!reader, platonic!aemond targaryen x sister!reader

synopsis: what it’s like to be the youngest daughter of the green queen.

includes: reader being the only somewhat normal targtower, i went overboard on aegon’s are we surprised, might be ooc, sorry for how short alicent’s is i wasn’t feeling much inspo for her

a/n: one of my favorite things about alicent’s dynamic with her children is that they all represent a part of her: aegon, being used for politics, helaena, her innocence that she used to have, and aemond, her rage and thirst for power. so i decided to have reader represent alicent’s devotion to her family and her “duty”. hotd is so weird abt character ages so for my sanity aegon is 20, helaena is 18, aemond is 17, and reader is 16 in this. forget daeron pls

Alicent

Alicent has incredibly complicated relationships with her children. They are mirrors of her anguish, but her blood nonetheless. She will protect you and your siblings with her life, if necessary, but she also cannot look you in the eye without a pit of guilt settling in her stomach.

She feels nauseous when Viserys has you betrothed to a Lord from the Crownlands, but apart of her is satisfied with the match, though only because it means you will be allowed to stay in the Red Keep instead of leaving her.

She is just as gentle as she is with Helaena as she is with you. You are one of the only good things that have come from her. She cherishes you. When word of your pregnancy spreads through the Keep, Alicent orders an abundance of maternity gowns for you from Myr. She will always, without fail, offer you a guiding hand when going up large sets of stairs.

By all means, she is not a perfect mother, but she does what she can. She gifts you lots of her own accessories, like the hairnet she wore during Aegon’s second nameday celebration. Helaena is her “dearest love”, and you are her “sweetness.”

Trying to include you in her own private matters is one of the only ways she can spend time with you. She takes you to the Sept with her when she can, though her eyes are always averted from you.

That is one of the other strange things you’ve noticed about your mother; she can never make eye contact with you. Perhaps it is because you are with child just as she was at your age.

When the time comes, she cannot be by your side to hold your hand while you give birth. It’s improper. But she is overjoyed that both you and your son are healthy.

— “You have done well, my sweetness,” Your mother whispers, voice soft and melancholic and warm. Grand Maester Orwyle, bless him, had propped you up on great plush pillows after you’d finished your labors. He’d quietly congratulated you and helped you get comfortable in your bed, then had left you to rest.

She sits on the edge of your mattress, right by your side, thumb gingerly tracing your cheek. The forest green she’s clad in brings out the auburn of her hair. “The babe is a beautiful one. A handsome son for the realm. I am… proud of you.”

Articulating her thoughts has never been her strong point. It is the hour of the owl now. The only sounds you can hear are the padding of raindrops against the tall windows in your chambers and the crackling of the hearth.

“Aegon’s birth came quick for me as well,” She mutters, almost to herself. Peculiarly, she clings to the little ways you are alike to one another; they are fading as the days pass by. Her brows furrow as her mind begins to race.

Your firstborn sons’ births had come with ease. You were both married off far too early in your lives. In girlhood, you had both favored naive stories of brave knights and pretty ladies and romance. You both committed yourself to duty to further the family—

She stops the list she’s making in her head there. Far more resolutely than before, as if putting a wall around herself again, she kisses your forehead and retracts into herself.

“I shall leave you be. Good night.”

Aegon

For Aegon, news of a new sibling is unsurprising. It’s the same old thing to see his mother waddling around the castle, belly swollen. He’s a little indifferent when you’re born.

As a teen, though, Aegon is certainly the type to smack you a bit too hard in the training yard and then shush you, begging for you to hit him just as hard before you wail too loud and one of your mother’s handmaidens hear and alert her of it.

It makes him feel shameful, the first time you see him drunk, stinking of the whores of Flea Bottom and sweat. You promise to not tell anyone of it, if he, in exchange, does not do it again. He still does. You still do not tell.

After the events of Driftmark, you are the one to cut his hair short. Seeing Aemond bloody and bruised had frightened you, caused you to weep in front of the crowd in the great hall, and you’d tearfully asked Aegon if you could sleep in his bed together that night. He forces you to help him trim his waves the next morning as “repayment”, though he did not actually mind it.

You grow closer as you become older. To Aegon, you are the only one who has a semblance of faith in him; your mother was constantly repulsed by him, as was your grandsire and own father. Aemond had given up on him a long, long time ago, and Helaena focused on the children far more.

On his better days, Aegon likes to fly on your dragons together. Seeing you windswept and almost free is strangely satisfying for him; he misses when you both hadn’t been burdened by what your parents had put on you. In the dead of night, he likes to imagine what life would have been like if he hadn’t been forced to marry Helaena, and you your “fat, old husband”, as he put it.

Speaking of, he’d made a great fuss at your wedding. That was the angriest he’d ever saw you; he’d drunk himself half to death at the celebration afterward, made a fool of himself when he got into a fist fight with one of your husband’s brothers. Even the bards had stopped singing to stare at the spectacle. You’d almost lost your voice that night from how loud you’d yelled at him, asking when he’d ever think of anyone but himself, cheeks flushed from deep embarrassment.

“You know of my apprehension when it comes to large events such as these, and yet you cannot steel yourself for one night for my sake? What will you do when Jaehaera is married? Light the castle aflame?”

(You do not know the reason he’d done such a thing was to make such a big scene your consummation ceremony would be an afterthought. That, and the fact he was drunk and angry.)

Some part of him feels guilty when you get pregnant. He knows, deep down, that he had no part in it, and he could not control your fate, no matter if his efforts were weak or strong. But he was still your elder brother, was he not?

One day, while you sit in a rocking chair and he plays with the twins in their nursery, you tell him, “I should like for my son to be like you.” Aegon says, quietly, that yours will be better than he ever was, with you as his mother. He vanishes back into the Street of Silk soon after that.

One of his best qualities is being able to make light of anything, and he does just that after your labors, laughing at how disheveled you are and kissing your forehead. It’s hard not to laugh with him.

Days later, at his coronation, you are the first he looks to for approval, after your mother. The subtle nod you give him makes him wonder how you would’ve reacted if he had been successful in running to Essos. He hopes neither Aemond or Cole told you of what he’d said.

After becoming king, Aegon grows to value your input more and more. On his council, he feels you are the only one to genuinely listen to his concerns and thoughts when it comes to winning the war, and so he ignores the disapproving looks the men around him give him when you come to the meetings.

He does not mention your dragon when discussing battle plans, almost seems to ignore it when Lord Jasper brings you up; your dragon is great and strong, and he knows he will have to utilize you one day, but he refuses to think of it until it’s absolutely necessary. His mind has already been spoiled by what he has seen in brothels and taverns, and he imagines it will only further be by the sights of war. Aegon will do everything he can to avoid what happened to him happening to you.

The assassins Daemon hired infiltrate the Red Keep. They kill his son, leave with his head in a sack. Aegon rages and drinks and rages. He will not allow even you to see his tears, but he cannot stop them from soaking the cloth of your dress when you hug him tenderly, as if afraid he’ll slip through your hands like sand.

Bile floods into his mouth when Otto suggests wheeling his son’s body through the city to secure the approval of the smallfolk. The image of you insisting on going instead of his mother is burned into his brain. “If you will force Helaena, then at least spare Mother and allow me to go,” You’d begged. It does nothing.

As foolish as he can be, Aegon is also not one to forget what others have done for him. You were the only one who’d taken his side against your grandfather. He is glad he was not forced to marry you, glad that he did not force you to a brothel as he did Aemond; he is glad that he has not ruined you.

Aegon’s visits to your child become less and less frequent. He loves the boy dearly, like he’s his own, but he cannot stand to look at him. It’s only a reminder of what happened to his little Jaehaerys.

Rook’s Rest destroys him. He does not even need to tell you that it was Aemond who did it, you just seem to know. There is no way for him to verbalize that he is listening to you while he is in his milk-of-the-poppy induced coma, but he does appreciate the stories you tell him while sitting at his bedside.

He specifically forbids you from looking at him while the Maesters change out his bandages, but he’ll allow you to sit on the other end of his bed with your back to him and hold his unburnt hand while they do so.

— “I feel a monster,” He admits to you one night while you light a candle on the stand next to his bed. You’re clad in a warm nightgown; many whisper that winter is coming, and it’s hard not to notice with how cold the breezes have been lately.

“Why is that?”

“You know why.”

You can’t even fight the scoff that comes from you, and you turn back to him with a frown etched deeply into your face. “You should not. You are king.”

Aegon rolls his eyes. “That did not stop our cunt of a brother from burning me like the Conqueror did Harrenhal.”

Huffing, you smooth out your dress, then walk to the other side of the bed and slowly crawl on. You’re careful not to move around too much, so as to not cause him any more injury, and sit next to him, back against the headboard. You bring your knees to your chest and wrap your arms around your legs. His eyes are slightly glossy when they meet yours.

He takes a sharp breath. “…If it had been my decision, I would have named you regent.”

You laugh incredulously at that, shaking your head. “They set aside Mother for Aemond. They would have forced you to do the same.”

Aegon raises his remaining silver brow. “I am not as feeble and weak-minded as Father. I speak truly. It is you I trust the most.”

Helaena

Helaena is perhaps the least expressive out of all of your siblings, but even she felt happy when Mother’s babe had come a girl.

She does genuinely appreciate that you do not judge her and make fun of her behind her back; she has never felt like she has been able to fit in with her ladies-in-waiting.

As mature as she is, Helaena does like to indulge girlishly sometimes; she enjoys matching her gowns with you, as well as hairstyles and (light, so as to not overstimulate her) jewelry.

Observant and introspective, Helaena also has a great memory. If you tell her you’ve had a fascination with direwolves as of late, or have particularly enjoyed reading about Valyrian history, suddenly the dresses she gifts you will subtly be embroidered with subtle little wolf icons or ancient Valyrian imagery. She is very thoughtful.

Unbeknownst to most, she also gives very good advice. There have only been a handful of times her council has not helped you. Wise and empathetic, she is, and she is always willing to listen to you explain your troubles while she plays with one of her bugs.

It pains her to see you inflicted with the same fate as she was; married off to a man you had no love for, forced to be his incubator. Just as it was during Aegon’s coronation, her head is bowed at your wedding. She does not want to look at your doom.

Despite this, she is perhaps the most supportive of you during your pregnancy; she likes suggesting names for the babe as well as crafting him little clothes for him to wear when he is born.

Although you do not understand her prophecies, it does quell her anxieties a bit that you at least listen to them instead of dismissing them like all else do.

When noise gets to be too much for her, you are the first to cover her ears with your hands, guiding her to the lush gardens of the Keep to breathe. You are the only person she has a likeness of boundaries with; when she does not want to be touched, you leave her be. It’s why you are the sibling she is fondest of.

Her hand immediately flies to grasp yours when Meleys erupts from the boards at Aegon’s coronation. The look on her face had confused you. She’d appeared fearful, but simultaneously also put at ease, as if she’d known that this was going to happen.

After Blood and Cheese, she cannot find rest at night. She takes to pacing about the Red Keep, almost looking like a ghost; pale and silver and paranoid. Despite the fact that it distracts you from your own slumber, you insist on her staying in your chambers with you. She still paces, never sleeps. Some nights you even walk with her around the castle.

— “This one will not live,” She blurts out randomly, interrupting you from one of your tangents, confusing you. She never interrupts you, always listens to whatever your qualms are for the day without complaint.

“What?”

You feel like you’re about to burst; partly from the grand lamb you had for your midday meal and from how heavy the babe in your belly feels. She seems surprised that the words had actually come out of her mouth.

She pushes her face closer to the fly she has somehow managed to capture in her palm, a perturbed glint in her eye. “I do not think this one will survive.”

You decide to indulge her, tilting your head to the side from where you sit across from her, lounging on a velvet sofa. “Why is that?”

“The art of the spider is subtle. It shall trap another in its web.”

(Later that day, you can only wonder if she was speaking of Lord Vaemond after he’d been beheaded by Prince Daemon from behind.)

Aemond

Aemond can barely remember the day you were born, much less the day a celebration had been held for Mother’s pregnancy.

Alike to his siblings, Aemond is not one to forget what you did for him when you were children; how you always offered to take him on rides on your dragon before he’d claimed Vhagar, how you were the only one uninvolved in the “pink dread” incident, how you cried for him after he lost his eye.

After the loss of his eye, Aemond begins to put a wall around himself. Unfortunately, that does include you. Before Driftmark, you were closest with him, but afterward, you had slowly drifted toward Aegon; nevertheless, he shows his affection for you in his own way.

However, he does keep the little gifts you’ve given him over the years safely hidden in his chambers, away from the eyes of curious maids and servants, like the eyepatch you’d embroidered a little Vhagar in in the weeks after his eye was cut out.

When Vaemond’s head is cut off, Aemond immediately places a hand on the pommel of his sword, lest Daemon himself attack you next. When he becomes regent, he is the one who orders you to be given a sworn protector. He is the one who’d help you learn Valyrian when you struggled, even after all your lessons.

Aemond never, never shows much affection to anyone in the family publicly, but he doesn’t mind it if you place a hand on his forearm or his own hand. He prefers it if you keep things like cheek or forehead kisses private in the sanctity of your or his own room.

In his immediate family, you are perhaps the most normal of all, which does make him seek out your company the most. The mornings after he seeks out Madame Sylvi’s assistance are the mornings he spends the most time with you. The shame of it all almost eats him alive, and you are a welcome distraction.

Additionally, the one-eyed prince does genuinely appreciate how you show your devotion to the family, though of course he’d never verbalize it. Almost every training yard session he has, you sit on the balcony, embroidering a dress or two while he swings his sword at Criston’s morningstar.

Your wedding to some old Crownlands lord was a memorable one, mostly because of when Aegon had pinned your new brother-by-law to a table and began beating him senselessly. Aemond was the one who had pried him off, mercilessly tugging him by the collar of his doublet away from the man.

You become pregnant quick. Aemond says that when your son is born, he will bring him to meet Vhagar himself, stating that a “new Targaryen babe should learn the ways of his predecessors”.

As the moons pass by, the Maesters order you to bedrest. Your elder brother likes to visit during his free time, sometimes bringing a book with him to read or nothing, just to converse with you quietly. You are the only “quiet” Aemond has ever known.

When Rhaenys bursts through the boards at Aegon’s coronation, Aemond’s palm finds your wrist, gently grasping it with his long fingers.

Just as your mother does, you begin to shun Aemond after Luke’s murder. It does not make him resent you as much as it does Alicent, but it does make him spiral a bit quicker.

Many a time have you slept in Aemond or Aegon’s bed because of nightmares. The only time he’s ever slept in yours was the night Aegon had found him in the brothel with Sylvi. You had not been awake when he’d crawled into bed with you, just laying beside you and shutting his eye. He makes sure to leave before you wake. Aemond does not know that you were quite aware of his presence, but had chosen not to say anything. If Aemond of all people had decided to find sleep in your bed, something awful must’ve happened. Why take that moment of respite from him?

He knows that you know he burned Aegon, but he does not ever bring it up in a conversation with you, much less acknowledge it. However, Aemond is observant. He notices the fearful glint in your eye when he is around you, now, but this is what he has always wanted, has he not? To rule?

— Aemond is with you the morn after Blood and Cheese, standing in one of the Red Keep’s balconies as you watch the wagon carrying your mother and Helaena depart. Your eyes are sunken in from crying, cheeks swollen; you wear a veil of mourning yourself, though there is no crown settled on your head. The way you lean over the railing to peer at the ground, the way your back is hunched, the way you grieve so openly.. it does not befit a princess. It does not befit someone from the Targaryen family, someone who is supposed to use honeyed words and cunning tricks to protect themself from the environment of King’s Landing.

You sniffle. “Where were you?”

Aemond’s eye goes wide. A deep pit was already settled in his stomach, but it only seems to get worse at your questioning. Even his throat seems to tighten up, make it impossible for him to even choke out an answer.

“When news of… the boy spread,” You begin, “I went to find you myself. But you were not in your chambers, nor in the library. Where were you?”

“Patrolling.” It’s an obvious lie. He regrets it the moment it comes out of his mouth, jaw clenching immediately. There was no use in patrolling at night, when he could barely see anything. His hand unconsciously squeezes the stone railing.

He’s ready to leave with haste when you nod to yourself, face blank and detached from reality. “…I won’t tell anyone,” You mutter, just loud enough for him to hear. “Wherever you were.”

[tteokdoroki]

tw ! slight age gap, reader is older, cheating, fingering, smut.

hello going on a business trip or to a conference, escaping your mundane life and the marriage that brings you nothing.

you’ve really gone on this trip to get away from your dead bedroom and the spouse that treats you like nothing more than a money maker.

which leads you to having a chance encounter with bakugou at the bar of the hotel your conference is at. you remember him from one of the panels — he’s young for this field of work but incredibly handsome, has brilliant red eyes that draw you in like magnetising poles, he makes you laugh and from your belly too. he’s everything your current spouse is not, there’s a spark inside you that you haven’t felt in years and bakugou knows it too. he makes you feel beautiful and seen and all he’s done is buy you a drink with a sour olive in it.

you find yourself stumbling behind him after one too many drinks, katsuki guiding you back to your hotel room — the good man that he is. you’ve both got panels to attend tomorrow morning at 9am sharp. it wouldn’t be wise to spend the rest of the night basking in booze and one another’s company. but when you get the door, failing to slip your key card into the slot — the blonde’s hand touches yours to help you get it in and all sense of logic is lost.

you no longer feel drained by mundane life waiting for you back home, you no longer think of your boring spouse in currently sleeping in your marital bed where they fail to make you feel loved. from the moment katsuki’s hand had touched yours, all you could feel was electricity, the longing and the wanting you’ve been desperately craving.

his lips drag sweep across your skin in heated motions and they find pleasure spots you’re not sure you even knew existed. bakugou’s fingers map out every inch of your body as though he may never touch you again, they dip past the forbidden band of your a-line skirt and write secret promises of pleasure against your clit because you’re married and the both of you know this is wrong.

one touch turns into another, dull and thick fingers stretch you open and graze your g-spot with an ease your spouse could never find. you e never felt this good, your lashes flutter against katsuki’s neck as he holds you to his chest and finger fucks you to the high heavens…because you’re just a hardworking woman who hasn’t had her pussy ruined in a long time, not like you deserve. he grins when you cream on just two of his fingers, such a good girl, so easy to please.

“such a pretty girl… such a hard worker ‘n no one to take care of you,” the blonde purrs into your ear before pushing you into the plush pillows and blankets below. there’s a gravel in his voice that raises at the heartbeat between your legs, not to mention the perfect view of him loosening his shirt and tie above you. “s’that why you’ve fallen into bed with the youngest guy here. ‘cause i got what it takes t’keep up with ya, yeah? make you feel better than that poor excuse of a fuck you got back home?”

bakugou grins slow and sexy when your hips rise from the bed on instinct at his words and he kisses you just to reward you, a poor touch starved little thing. its hungry and sloppy and messy and somewhere in the mix of his tongue wrapped around yours and your hands in his hair — the blonde has ripped through your stockings and slipped his aching, dripping slick cock past your quivering entrance.

he feels like home inside you, feels you up to the brim and sends your eyes rolling back into the depths of your skull. every stroke is calculated, every piston of katsuki’s meaty girth purposive and intentional — crafted to make you see stars with every jolt of your body up the bed. you can’t go back to regular old life after tonight, you won’t be able to go back to the way things were without picturing bakugou’s tie hanging loosely above you and hearing his deep moans echo throughout your mind.

that night you leave marks on one another that you’ll be hiding for weeks, smiling at when no one is looking, reminiscing the sinful experience shared in this very hotel room. there’s too much passion in the room for this to just remain a one time thing, too much emotion behind the act saliva swept lip lock or love bite left below the line of future clothes to be worn.

you know that you won’t give katsuki up especially when he kisses you as you cum together, thick white seeping between your swollen and ravaged folds.

you’ll do anything to be underneath bakugou like this again, even if it means planning fake business trips every other weekend to get away from your spouse and get fucked to the high heavens by your young hot colleague.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate, feed into ai & recommend elsewhere.

[makismei]

❝ ALL YOU EVER WANTED FROM ME WAS SWEET NOTHING!

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ geto x f!reader

cw: fwb to lovers, college!au suggestive content, modern! au, fluff, minor angst, MEN YEARNING, failing out of college, reader needs academic validation to live apparently

synopsis: he’ll love you, just as you are— even if you’re too soft for the world, he’ll gladly be your shield

suguru’s in love with you. it’s no secret.

as you lay on his chest, sweat slicked skin on skin, suguru wishes this pre arranged arrangement was more— he wishes you’d let him in, so he could love you more.

he tries, really. he wants to know you. anything about you.

at this point, he knows your body like the back of his hand. but your favourite colour? no idea. he would guess pink, but that’s only because you own a lot of pink tops.

you like sweets. recently, you’ve garnered a fascination for mochi donuts.

but all this information has come from his observant nature— you’ve never opened up to him, except for that one time, when you cried in his arms, seeking connection, another person’s warmth.

that was also the day you became friends with benefits.

whenever he tries to conduct a mini interview on you, you shut him out, telling him he doesn’t need to know those things.

he knows that you know he loves you.

he’s said it one too many times, when he’s most vulnerable, buried in you. but not once has he heard it back.

but it’s okay. he has a feeling that you’re starting to fall in love with him too.

you’ve started telling him about your day, as well as extremely vague plans for the next. suguru know he’s grasping at air, but he swears he can feel it in his hands.

“can we try?” he whispers, uncertain. to tell you the truth— suguru, as suave and handsome and perfect as he is, isn’t immune to insecurity. girls throw themselves at his feet, but he couldn’t care less because they’re not you.

you sit up. your warmth leaving him shatters his heart.

his room, air humid with sweat and sex, suddenly feels icy. but he gazes longingly at your back, at the scars on your elbows that probably have stories behind them— stories he craves so desperately to know.

“what’s so bad about it?” he continues, “is it me?”

“don’t ask stupid questions,” you retort. but he hears a shaky breath leave your lips, quiet cries filling the room.

he sits up, hand on your back. “look at me.”

he’s got you.

you shake your head, mindlessly bringing a finger to your lips, picking at the dead skin— a nervous tick.

“don’t do that,” suguru says, fingers cupping your jaw, gently turning your head so he can see your face. his thumb runs along your poor bottom lip, catching blood on his finger.

“i get overwhelmed easily,” you mutter, eyes glancing down in shame, “i shut people out when i feel too vulnerable and i’m mean.”

he huffs a laugh, thumb brushing against your cheekbone. “you’re protecting yourself and that’s okay.”

“i’m a shut-in, i don’t like leaving the house and i’m not romantic at all.” you continue and he nods, gaze never faltering.

“you like shoujo anime. especially the episodes with trips or big events.” he whispers, watching you pout. how cute, he thinks, like a petulant child who just wants to be noticed.

a tear streams down your cheek, wetting his thumb as he tries to wipe them away, but it’s like rainfall, so he lets you feel it out.

“i failed out of college,” you voice breaks, “the only thing i was supposed to be good at.”

you’re sobbing, head down in shame and suguru just pulls you into his arms. he rubs a hand soothingly up and down your back, heart absolutely shattering at the sounds of your cries.

“your failures don’t define you,” he mutters, “you’re still smart, capable and hard working. that doesn’t change.”

you pull away, staring him in the face and suguru thinks you’re so beautiful, so vulnerable in a way he hasn’t seen before.

“how do you know?” you sniffle, “you don’t know anything about me.”

he smiles, nodding. suguru wipes your tears, “i wonder why.”

you click your tongue, mustering a glare that holds absolutely no malice. he breathes a quiet laugh, “you’d bend over backwards for your so-called friends, even though none of them realize what you’re going through right now.”

“i don’t want them to know.” you refute.

“i bet you didn’t want me to know either,” he chastises, but it’s soft and his hands are so warm. “but i know now, because you’re important to me. i don’t want you to go through it all alone.”

you’re still glaring, but the crease between your brows have softened. “do you have a saviour complex?”

he shakes his head, “just a thing for damsels in distress, i guess.”

you pinch his arm. he takes your hand and it brings it to his lips. you feel warmth flood your body, but you don’t know if you deserve it.

“what if this ends up being the worst decision you’ll ever make?” you whisper and it’s the first time he’s heard you sound so insecure.

suguru cups your face in his hands, long black hair framing his face. his hair is so long that it tickles your skin, what would your parents say, when you bring home a guy with hair this long?

you can’t find it in you to care, because you know this guy loves you wholeheartedly. you don’t even know what you did to deserve it.

“it won’t be.” and it’s resolute, “haven’t i told you enough? that i love you?”

you nod slowly, tears finally drying.

he leans in, lips brushing against yours. “i’ll put in the work to make you believe me, to trust me.”

you laugh, “you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”

you realize here and now, that out of everyone in your life so far, suguru is the only one who doesn’t ask anything of you. he just loves you and it feels unbelievable.

suguru laughs, his forehead touching yours. “i should be telling you that.”

manga panel from my love story with yamada-kun at lv999 ^.^

[rafesteddy]

𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮𝔂𝓼𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓼

𝙽𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚢 𝙻𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬

𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝕊𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕟: ℂ𝕒𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥

𝚃𝚘𝚙𝙶𝚞𝚗!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙼𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚊𝚗𝚔’𝚜𝚂𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

warnings: Skype sex, mentions of a sex tape, mutual masterbation, use of sex toys, cum tasting, getting caught, swearing, name calling, pet names, long-distance relationship, ownership kink, dirty talk, praise

📖 Spoilers: All of my asks got deleted 😭💕, so I’m not sure who requested this, but thank you! The premise is that you have been secretly dating Rafe for 6 months, and you finally get caught.

Reader’s POV:

The first time, you told yourself it was a mistake. A one-time-thing. A moment of weakness between you and the man that everyone seemed to hate for one reason or another. After all, Rafe Cameron was trouble—a notorious fuckboy, arrogant, abrasive, and rude, just to name a few of his negative attributes that got shit-talked in the château anytime his name got brought up. But you couldn’t stay away…

There was just something about him—the quiet moments. The moments that he reserved for you and you alone. When he let his guard down. And now here you are, six months into a secret relationship with the man your brother and friends despised. Exchanging I love you’s with your best friend's brother, putting that friendship at risk, but it was worth it for him.

You sit in front of your laptop, crisscross on your bed, your phone in hand as you scroll social media, trying to distract yourself. Rafe was gonna call at 8 o’clock sharp— he was rarely late. His new lifestyle making him a little more punctual than usual.

You steal glances at yourself in the reflection of your laptop, unsure of how to feel as you see yourself. The two of you usually talk on FaceTime, leaving you feeling slightly distorted from the lens. But it would be worth it. You couldn’t wait to watch that little video you sent him earlier. The video you captured on your phone before he left for pilot training school— the video you took for moments just like this.

8:30… You look at the time in the corner of your laptop, feeling your heart flutter. You could hear the muffled sound of the movie playing from behind the door, thankful that they were still committed to relaxing instead of going out, just hoping one of them wouldn’t knock on the door for something from the room; your fingers crossed that Rafe would show up any second so you could at least have 30-minutes and the group wouldn’t question why your “online class” was going so long.

Ding. Your eyes brighten as you hear the unfamiliar notification, making butterflies swirl in your stomach as you see his beautiful face pop up on your screen. He’s breathless, the fringe of his toffee-colored hair falling messily across his sweat-glistened forehead. Rafe, most likely running from the flight line all the way to his apartment.

He huffs out a deep breath through a wide smile. His Navy flight suit hangs half-open, revealing his skin-tight shirt underneath— just a glimpse of his gold chain poking out the top. He lowers his head, catching his breath, giving you the perfect glimpse of his sharp jawline. His beautiful blue eyes rest on the screen as he runs his fingers through his hair, pushing it back in place.

“Hey, baby,” he pants as a smile tugs on the corners of his lips. “I kept you waitin’, princess. I’m sorry.” He softens his voice for you.

“It’s alright, handsome,” you say sweetly as you lean in a little closer— your heart already racing for the boy on the other side of the screen, somehow making you feel giddy on the other side of the country as always, without fail.

Rafe leans back on his couch, adjusting the camera slightly, lifting his phone with a smile. “Got that video you sent me, sweetheart.”

”You did,” you giggle as you bite your lip, watching his smile spread a little wider.

”Mhmm… At lunch. In front of everyone. And I had to act like I wasn’t lookin’ at the sexiest thing I had ever fuckin’ seen…” He drawls, his voice husky and warm. “Couldn’t concentrate on shit for the rest of the day.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” you breathe, and you do mean it, knowing the risks of his position.

“Don’t be… No way you’re apologizing for that, princess. You are the best distraction.” You feel your cheeks warm up at the compliment and the look in his eyes. Your mind races away to what the two of you would do if you were there right now. “You’re thinkin’ about it too, aren’t you?” Rafe smirks as he tilts forward, moving closer to the screen, resting his elbow on his thighs.

Rafe’s arm muscles flex unintentionally—his gold chain tumbling out of his shirt, dangling from his neck, bringing you back to all those moments you were underneath him, watching it swing in front of you with each thrust.

“I am… You wanna watch it with me?”

”Oh my god,” he laughs lustfully as he pulls the rest of the top of his flight suit off. “Yeah, baby… I wanna watch the video of me pounding into that sweet pussy of yours,” he chuckles sinfully. “Let me see your outfit first. Yeah?”

“Mhmm… Yeah. Only if you take off your shirt for me,” you counter, watching the corners of his eyes crinkle as his smile grows.

“Yes, ma'am,” he hums as he stands up from the couch, pulling his uniform the rest of the way down his thighs. He sits on the edge of the couch, ripping his shirt over his head, making you dizzy.

“Rafe…” You swoon as you crawl a little closer to the camera to get a better look; your satin cami draws away from your breasts, giving him a taste of your tits underneath. “You look so good, baby.” He lounges back on the couch in his white Calvin Klein boxers, his abs even more cut than the last time you saw him, his big, broad chest on full display.

“Take it off, princess,” he rasps with a subtle dominance.

You step off the bed, letting him see the satin cami and shorts he had sent you a few days back. You turn to the side slightly as he drinks you in, the high-cut sides showing off your thighs and hips just right, the draping on the sides of the top showing off the curves of your tits. “Fuck, you look good,” he praises, and you smile. You lift your fingers as he watches you carefully, brushing off one strap, then the other, letting the top fall around your hips before pulling it all the way off, leaving you in his favorite lace panties.

Rafe’s eyes roll back at the sight of you, a hungry moan falling from his perfect lips. You watch his hands squeeze his muscular thighs, fighting back the urge to palm his thick bulge, but the desire is too strong. You loop your fingers around your panties, and it’s all over. Rafe’s lip tucks between his teeth as he rests his hand against his cock, already rock-hard, rubbing himself over the thin white cotton.

“You ready, Daddy?” You ask, using that pet name that drives him insane as you walk toward the camera.

“Love when you call me that. Fuck, you’re drivin’ me crazy,” he sighs. You grab your phone, looking at the thumbnail of the video you captured. Lifting your finger, you push it as Rafe does the same.

You can hear the two of you on Rafe’s end, frowning at your phone when nothing comes out. You turn your phone to the side, checking if it is silenced, pressing the volume button rapidly, not wanting to ruin the moment.

“You havin’ trouble, baby?” Rafe asks, tilting his head in concern.

“Yeah… I’m sorry,” you mutter frustratedly.

“WHAT THE FUCK!” You hear your brother’s voice bellow from outside the door, feet pounding down the hall the next moment. JJ’s fists bang against the entry, bolts rattling with the impact, sending a surge of panic through you.

Your eyes widen in horror as you check the settings on your phone, the Bluetooth icon illuminated and connected to the living room speakers. Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Rafe, everyone heard,” you whisper, seeing the panic in his eyes too.

You turn the laptop towards the wall as JJ continues to fight against the wooden door, threatening to break it down. You scramble around your room, finding a random hoodie before opening the door.

“JJ, it’s fine! I-” You pant as he barges in, his face beet-red with anger.

“Who the fuck are you talkin to, huh? ‘Cause I know it ain’t Rafe Cameron,” he spits as he scans the room. His frantic eyes look down at your phone, catching a quick glance at the paused video. His eyes slam shut in disgust before his expression twists in disbelief. “That video,” he points at your phone. “Everyone fuckin’ heard it… E v e r y o n e.”

Your body trembles with adrenaline as you look back into his wild blue eyes. “I’m so sorry,” you stammer as the blood drains from your face. Your embarrassment peaks as you look over JJ’s shoulder, seeing your friends gathered in the hall.

There’s a slight rustle from your computer—the most minor sound—but JJ immediately catches it. His eyes narrow on your laptop, and he walks toward it slowly. Turning around, he sees your boyfriend in a Navy hoodie and white boxers, confirming all his fears.

”You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me,” JJ snarls. “You’re fuckin’ with him? HIM? Are you serious right now?”

“JJ,” Rafe calls him firmly from the other end of the computer. “You gotta back off, man.”

JJ sucks his teeth and smiles maniacally at you before turning it around. “Stay away from her, Rafe,” JJ snaps, his voice deep and dangerous.

“She’s my girlfriend, Maybank. I’m not gonna do that,” Rafe keeps calm for the moment.

“Your girlfriend? My sister is your girlfriend? What the fuck is happening right now?”

“Calm down,” Rafe warns but it does nothing but piss him off more.

“You’re tellin’ me to calm down? Do you know who you are? You’re a piece of shit, man. She’s not just some Pogue girl you can collect, alright?”

“I’m not like that with her,” Rafe shoots back. “I’m good to her. I love her.”

JJ scoffs and laughs as he leans into the camera. “Like hell you do. You treat everyone like shit—”

“Not her,” Rafe stops him before he can finish. “She’s different. And I’ve been different because of her. This ain’t the same shit, man. We’ve been together for months, and she didn’t want to say anything because she knew this shit would happen and so did I.”

JJ hesitates, his jaw coiling, the weight of Rafe’s words hanging heavy in the air. JJ looks back at you, a silent conversation shared as you affirm Rafe’s words with a glance.

“I need to know you’re alright…”

“I love him, Jayj,” you reply, loud enough for Rafe to hear, too. “He’s really good to me-” JJ turns toward Rafe, not wanting to hear more than he has to.

“If you hurt her, Rafe, you’re done. Got it?” He snaps. “I don’t give a fuck where you are or how far away it is, I’ll fucking kill you.”

“I’m not gonna hurt her,” Rafe assures. As soon as the last word leaves his lips, JJ storms out.

You run toward the door, taking a deep breath as you relax your back into it, feeling more relieved in this moment than you had in months, even after everything that’d just happened. 

You smile weakly, looking toward the camera as you walk toward Rafe.

“Well, that could have gone worse,” you respire.

He hangs his head, nodding in agreement. “Considering it’s him and I, I’ll take it as a win, princess. No more sneakin’ around.”

“No more sneaking around… Finally,” you throw your voice, inviting Rafe back to the previous conversation with a look.

“Shit, you’re still up for it, baby?” He laughs as he reaches for the bottom of his sweatshirt, pulling it off, revving you up even more.

“I am,” you breathe, feeling the weight lifted off your shoulders.

“So you’re tellin’ me I get all night with you, princess? Now that everyone knows you’re mine, I get you whenever I’d like. Yeah?”

“Anytime you'd like,” you whisper as you tug your sweatshirt over your head.

“It’s about time…” He licks his lips as he looks back at you.

“I want you so bad, Rafe,” you sigh. He pitches his hips, pulling his boxers down as he looks at you, his hard dick slapping against his tanned skin.

Rafe lets out a throaty moan as he wraps his fingers around his cock, hissing at the sudden contact, tugging a few times before circling his thumb on his tip, spreading around his precum as you’d do with your tongue.

“Just wanna look at you, sweetheart. We don’t need that video. Aight? Not yet. I can't take my eyes off you. I want you to focus on me… Can you do that, princess?”

You climb on the bed, moving closer to the screen. “I can do that for you, Daddy.”

“Mpfhh…” He grunts as he fists his cock a little quicker, dreaming about all the things he’d do to you. “If I were there, I’d be buried in your pussy—start slow, get you off a few times with my mouth, pushing my tongue deep before stuffing you full of my cock, princess.”

“I don’t get to suck you off?” You ask breathily as you arch your back for him, showing off your ass.

“You want that, baby?” He asks through a smile.

“I need that, Rafe,” you flirt as you shift slightly, reaching under your pillow to grab your pink, sparkly toy.

“Fuck yeah. I want it all. I want you here,” he chuckles. “Baby… Shittt,” he buzzes as he realizes what you have in your hand, yet another gift from him.

You tap the tip against your pillowy lips before laying out your tongue, doing the same as his breathing quickens, his opposite hand gripping his thigh tight.

“Jesus fuck… Put it in your mouth, baby. All the way in. Suck on it for me,” he rasps.

“Anything for you…”

“Atta girl…”

His muscles stutter, that little video you sent him earlier edging his mind all day with thoughts of fucking you senseless. “Look what you do to me… Been thinkin’ about you all goddamn day. M’gonna bust before I even get to watch you put it in…” Rafe affirms your thoughts, and you giggle deviously. “You little brat… This is what you wanted didn't you.”

You poke your tongue in your cheek nodding in reply.

Rafe looks at you half-lidded; his bottom lip swollen and red from biting down so hard. He breathes heavily, his muscular arm flexing— bicep strained as he pumps his thick cock.

“Jealous as fuck, princess... Fuck, that should be me,” he rasps as he stretches his arm back on the back of the couch, relaxing a little more. “Love watching those pretty lips wrapped around a cock, regardless,”

Rafe smirks as you suck off the dildo, pulling it out of your mouth, a string of saliva lined from the tip to your soft lips. “So fuckin’ filthy for me, pretty.”

“How do you want me?” You smile as you rise up on your knees, resting it straight up and down on the bed.

“Just like that, baby…”

"Now what?" You ask coyly as you hover above it, teasing your drooling hole with the tip.

“Take it all, princess… I know you can,” he smirks. Your lips part as you widen your thighs, dropping down on the big silicone cock inch by in. You gasp and moan— fully sat with your head tossed back, using your free hand to grope your tits.

The moans that pours through your speakers from Rafe sends chills down your spine. Rafe watches as you slowly lift yourself off, dragging the dildo out before your greedy cunt swallows it up again.

You start to bounce on the mattress, placing the other hand over your mouth to dampen your whines and pleas as Rafe keeps your pace with his strokes. “Wanna fuck you, baby,” he groans, his voice hoarse and raspy, getting off at the sight of you and the sounds of your warm, wet pussy; your muffled whimpers and cries slipping past your hand from time to time is almost too much for him to take.

“Show me your pussy,” he breathes.

You pull out of the toy, whimpering at the loss of it, rolling to your back, giving Rafe the perfect shot of the wet mess between your thighs. You plunge the cock in your glossy hole, propping yourself up slightly to see him, not wanting to miss a thing.

The dildo reaches that special spot, making the knot tighten in your stomach, toes curling as you get closer and closer.

Your eyes fall down his perfect body, landing on his heavy cock, his reddened tip shiny with precum, swollen and throbbing. “Need you to cum for me… Cum with me, baby,” he pants.

"Gonna cum, baby…" You mewl, face scrunched slightly to keep your eyes from shutting or rolling back. Your thighs shake uncontrollably as you dissolve in pleasure, pussy gushing around the dildo as you continue to work it in and out. Rafe pulls off his big cock, losing all control—white ropes of cum painting his abs and thick, pulsing length.

Rafe watches you draw the toy out of your fluttering hole as he pulls off his dick, milking the last bits of pleasure from his body as he watches you close.

You sigh deeply, satisfied, as you crawl toward the camera. Rafe throws his head back, smiling all too wide, rubbing his hand over his eyes. “What am I gonna tell you to do, princess?” He mumbles, still riding his high, not quite ready to come down just yet.

You giggle, cheeks warming up as you show him the toy glistening with your climax. “Suck that shit, pretty,” he smiles. You wrap your lips around it, taking as much as you can get, sucking it off to the tip before smiling dreamily at him. “That’s my girl.”

“That was good,” you sigh as you wrap yourself up in a fuzzy blanket. Rafe cleans himself off, throwing his boxers back on for the moment.

“Better than me?” He quips with his eyebrow cocked.

“Not a fuckin’ chance, baby.”

“We’re watchin’ that video, sweetheart. Don’t get too comfortable,” he hums.

“I can’t wait.”

Rafe looks at you lovingly— the two of you sharing a moment of silence, just happy to be together. “You know, I’ve been thinking about how much I hate bein’ away from you. And I can’t imagine spending Christmas apart…” Rafe’s words get lost on his lips as he takes out his phone and types up a message, your phone dinging a moment later.

Happy tears gather as you look down at the gift from Rafe, a flight confirmation from Charleston, straight to him. “I wanna spend Christmas with you, princess. Just you and me. What do you say?”

You look up at the handsome man on the other side of the screen, letting your happy tears slip down your cheeks.

“I’d love to.”

[orangesaek]

'tattooed on my mind' | Jaehyun

request: "Jaehyun (y/n's unrequited love at first but falls bit by bit for her)"

pairings: tattoo-artist!Jaehyun x afab-lawyer!reader (Johnny, Taeyong, Yuta & Ten cameo)┊genre: slow-burn romance, friends to lovers, some comedy (tried), fluff┊wc: 3.5k┊cw: minimal cursing/swearing

@bluedbliss I might have gotten a bit carried away (hence the wc im sorry) but I hope u like this anw~ tysm for requesting xoxo

a/n: slightly proofread. also, I MISS JAEYONG :((((

Two years ago, you found yourself reluctantly stepping into a tattoo shop, dragged there by your older brother Johnny and his friend Yuta. They promised you something irresistible:

“After the tattoo session, we’ll treat you to the best food ever.”

That was the only reason you agreed to tag along. You had zero interest in tattoos—well, aside from admiring the art from a safe distance.

The air inside smelled like antiseptic. Dark and edgy. 

“Yo, Ten,” Johnny called as you all stepped in.

“Hey,” Ten mumbled from across the room without looking up, hunched over a client’s arm with focused precision.

“Hi to whoever you brought, too.”

“Hi,” you replied, a little amused.

Johnny grinned. “This is my little sister, the lawyer. Finally dragged her out.”

“Cool,” Ten said, still not looking up. “Hi lil sis.”

And then you saw him.

Jaehyun.

Jaehyun looked up from his desk near the window and stood, brushing graphite off his hands. He was wearing a loose, sleeveless black tee that showed off his toned, tattooed arms, his hair tousled like he hadn’t even tried. His dimples made an appearance as he gave you a small smile.

“And this,” Johnny continued, motioning toward Jaehyun and the man beside him, “is Jaehyun and Taeyong. They own this shop with Ten.”

Taeyong gave a slight nod and a friendly smile.

“Hey. You can sit on the couch if you want. There’s also a coffee shop downstairs if you want to grab something to eat.”

Without missing a beat, Ten called out again—still tattooing, not looking up. 

“We’ve got water and instant coffee in the back, and snacks in the cabinet above the fridge. Might wanna grab something now—based on those cursed sketches Johnny and Yuta wanted, you’re gonna be here for a while.”

You chuckled. “I’m okay, thanks,” you said, settling onto the couch.

From your seat, you watched them work. Jaehyun, Taeyong, and Ten moved with smooth confidence, tattoos like murals on skin, faces too perfect.

They should be celebrities, you thought, not tattoo artists. Too handsome to be hidden in a tucked-away studio like this.

Jaehyun was working on Johnny’s forearm, glancing up occasionally to chat, then down again with expert precision. At one point, he looked over at you and flashed another smile, one dimple deepening.

“You look like you're analyzing us like a criminal case,” he said. “Should I be worried you’re building evidence?”

You smirked. “Only if bad puns are a felony.”

He snorted mid-laugh—snorted—and his pen jerked slightly.

“Shit,” he hissed. “Almost ruined the outline.”

Taeyong cracked a smile from where he was prepping Yuta’s arm.

“I told you not to try being funny while tattooing.”

Ten let out a snicker from across the room.

Johnny gave Jaehyun a side-eye.

“If you mess up my tattoo, I’m making you ink a dick on your pretty face.”

Jaehyun tried to hold in another laugh but failed miserably, shaking his head. 

The whole room fell into a lighthearted rhythm after that, and from the couch, you watched it all unfold—your heart doing things it shouldn’t around a guy like him.

Johnny and Yuta loved Jaehyun and Taeyong’s work so much they kept coming back for more tattoos. And somehow, you kept tagging along—on the excuse that the café downstairs had the best iced Americano in Seoul.

They knew exactly why you came.

“Stop pretending you just like coffee,” Yuta teased one day as you sipped your drink while Jaehyun was busy with another customer.

You glared at him. “I’m the only responsible adult here, okay?”

Jaehyun caught your eye and grinned.

“Responsible, huh? I’d say reckless—showing up just for coffee and bad jokes.”

You rolled your eyes but chuckled when he flexed his tattooed arms and winked playfully.

Weeks passed, and you found yourself drawn into their world despite your demanding job. Whenever Johnny said Jaehyun would be around, you’d drop everything and come by.

One evening, Johnny nudged you during dinner.

“You know, everyone in the shop can tell you like Jaehyun. Even Taeyong and Ten are keeping tabs. Yuta knows, too. Obviously.”

You nearly choked on your food. “What? No way.”

Johnny smirked. “Yeah, way. You’re the worst at hiding it.”

You blushed but said nothing. You’d never told Jaehyun how you felt. You were scared it would ruin everything.

One day, while shopping for new office clothes at the mall, you and Jaehyun were walking side by side through the clean, wide hallways—your arm occasionally brushing his as you wandered in and out of stores.

He carried your shopping bags without complaint, even held up a few blouses to your frame while making fake model poses that made you snort.

Then, casually, you brought something up.

“Oh, by the way,” you said as you were flipping through some tailored blazers on a rack.

“A lawyer from SM asked me out yesterday. Said he saw me during trial and it was ‘love at first sight’.”

You didn’t look at Jaehyun when you said it. You weren’t sure why—maybe you were testing something, or just curious.

Jaehyun, who had been scrolling through his phone as he leaned against a pillar, paused. His smile faltered. You caught the flicker in his eyes when he looked up. Something unreadable. Confusion? Unease?

“Really?” His voice was slightly tighter than usual.

“Yeah,” you said, glancing at him from the side, trying to read him. “He seemed nice. Said he’s been seeing me in a few hearings and finally worked up the nerve.”

Jaehyun’s jaw ticked for a second. Then he gave a short laugh, forced.

“Can’t blame him. You’re pretty and amazing.”

Your heart twisted at the words. Sweet and supportive, but the delivery felt off.

There was silence. You were about to move on when he asked, voice low and seemingly offhanded, “So… do you like him?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “I’m not sure yet...”

Jaehyun tilted his head slightly, studying you. “He decent?”

“Kinda,” you said, shrugging. “I mean, he’s okay. Perfect hair, polite, driven.”

You weren’t even sure why you were describing the guy that much.

Jaehyun nodded slowly, as if absorbing that.

“Are you thinking about going on a date with him?”

You glanced at him again. His tone was careful. 

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly. “I’m still thinking about it.”

Jaehyun didn’t respond right away. He shifted his weight slightly, eyes drifting away toward the row of jackets behind you. His lips pressed together.

He told himself he should be happy for you. That’s what friends do, right? Be supportive. 

But instead, something tugged at him.

The idea of someone else getting to listen to your rants after court, getting to see that excited sparkle in your eyes when you talked about winning a case. Someone else making you laugh.

He looked back at you with a faint smile, then tilted his head toward the escalators.

“Anyway, didn’t you say you wanted to check out the stationery shop on the fifth floor? Let's go. Before you fall for Mr. Perfect Hair and decide to ditch your shopping buddy.”

Jaehyun didn’t realize it yet, but that moment would haunt him for weeks. Because that wasn’t the reaction of someone who saw you as “just a friend”.

That was the first time he realized that if he didn’t do something soon, someone else might step in where he had always been too careful to tread.

Someone else might get to call you theirs.

And he didn’t think he could handle that.

The first time Jaehyun came to your office, he unintentionally caused chaos.

He had stopped by your building during one of his free afternoons, dressed casually in a black sleeveless hoodie that showed off his toned, tattoo-covered arms. His hair was pushed back, revealing his sculpted face, sharp jawline, and the ever-dangerous combo—his dimples and a polite smile.

He had walked up to the front desk like he belonged there, asking in that calm, deep voice, “Hi, I’m looking for Attorney L/N’s office? I’m a friend. Just dropping something off.”

The poor intern at the reception nearly dropped her pen.

“Oh—uh, yes! She’s on the 17th floor. You can take the elevator to your left,” she stammered, blinking rapidly as she tried not to stare too hard at his arms or the way his black joggers clung perfectly to his hips.

Jaehyun smiled and thanked them with a slight bow, his dimples making a brief but deadly appearance.

The whispers started as soon as he turned around.

“Oh my god.”

“Who is that?”

“Did we just get a celebrity in the lobby?”

As Jaehyun stepped off the elevator on the 17th floor, more heads turned.

Your colleagues peered through office windows, peeking from behind their cubicles as he walked calmly down the hallway, his boots making light thuds on the polished tile. Even the older colleagues blinked in mild surprise as he passed.

He gave a slight, bashful nod to a few people who were obviously staring and then he stopped outside your door.

Inside, you were busy typing furiously on your computer, deep in edits for an upcoming court document. When you heard a soft knock, you called out automatically, “Come in.”

You didn’t look up until the door creaked open.

And then, “Jaehyun?”

He stepped inside, holding a takeout bag in one hand and two cups of iced Americano in the other. 

“Johnny told me you haven’t eaten yet. Said you texted him you were swamped with that multi-million dollar case.”

Your mouth opened slightly. “He told you that?”

“Yeah, we were texting,” Jaehyun said simply, placing the bag and drinks carefully on the corner of your desk. “So, I figured you might need some fuel.”

You blinked, then stood up and smiled, the surprise giving way to warmth. 

“Thanks… I didn’t even realize how hungry I was.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, dimples peeking again as he gave you a boyish grin. 

“Didn’t want you to faint from hunger while winning your clients’ millions.”

You laughed. “That’s very specific and considerate of you.”

He glanced briefly around your office, eyes scanning the framed degrees and awards on your walls. 

“It’s cool seeing your world. You talk about court all the time, but seeing it like this? I dunno. Makes me proud.”

You paused. That was unexpectedly sweet.

Jaehyun didn’t linger too long. “I’ll let you get back to it. Eat, okay?”

You nodded, walking with him to the elevator.

“Thanks again, really.”

“Anytime,” he said, waving as the doors closed.

The moment you walked back into your office, you were ambushed.

Two of your colleagues nearly tackled you in the hallway.

“WHO was that?” one of them whispered, wide-eyed. “And can you introduce me?”

You laughed nervously, trying to sidestep them.

“He’s just a friend.”

“Oh please,” another snorted. “Friends don’t bring lunch like that with iced Americano and a face that hot. He looked like a heavily tattooed K-pop idol.”

“He’s really just a friend,” you repeated, holding up your hands.

“Then give me his number,” one said boldly. “If you’re not dating him, I wanna take him out.”

You blinked. Then blurted out the first thing that popped into your head. 

“He’s gay.”

“What?” they all said in unison.

“Yeah,” you said quickly. “He just looks like that but totally not into women. That’s why we get along. We talk about boys.”

They stared at you suspiciously.

You gave your best lawyer-face and backed into your office.

“I gotta review this case. Good luck, ladies.”

That wasn’t the last time Jaehyun came.

He started dropping by whenever he had gaps in his schedule—especially after that day. Sometimes, he’d bring hot soup on rainy afternoons. 

When you were in a meeting and didn’t see him, you’d come back to your office and find the food waiting for you, along with those funny little messages that made your heart skip.

“Eat this or I’ll tattoo ‘hangry’ on you myself. – J”

You’d sit down at your desk, smile at his note, and immediately shoot him a text.

“you’re ridiculous but thank you 💛”

He’d reply almost immediately.

“only the best for Seoul’s top lawyer 💅✨ did you eat it or are you suing me for trespassing 👀”

One afternoon, Jaehyun had texted you, asking if you wanted to hang out. Johnny, Taeyong, and Yuta were off hiking somewhere ‘spiritual’, and you were home alone, slowly losing your mind between legal briefs and iced coffee refills.

"Come to the shop," Jaehyun had said. 

"It’s just me and Ten today. He’s my only victim-slash-client. You can study here—it’s quieter than you think. Plus, you get to hear me whine while I work."

So, you brought your notes. Another complicated case waiting to be dissected, and settled into the familiar couch across the room. 

You couldn't help but glance up every now and then, the ink glistening beautifully under the shop lights, and Jaehyun looking much more attractive as he expertly outlined Ten’s arm.

Your eyes took in all of Jaehyun’s visible tattoos and teased, “You're basically art with muscles.”

Jaehyun glanced up, dimples showing.

“And you're basically an encyclopedia with legs.”

You bit back a laugh.

Ten let out a dramatic sigh.

“Can you two stop flirting while I’m trying not to die here? My pain tolerance is not compatible with this rom-com energy.”

Jaehyun snorted, eyes twinkling as he returned to his shading on Ten’s arm. 

“Sorry, bro. She started it.”

You looked back down at your notes, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling too hard, when Ten—currently sprawled comfortably in the chair as Jaehyun shaded on his arm—spoke up.

“So,” he began casually, “What’s the update on Mr. Perfect Hair?”

You blinked, caught completely off guard.

“Wait, how do you even know about him?”

Jaehyun visibly froze beside him, the buzzing of the tattoo machine pausing for a second. His shoulders stiffened.

Before Jaehyun could throw a warning glance or say anything, Ten casually replied, “Oh, Jaehyun told me.”

Your eyes slowly shifted to Jaehyun, who was now staring very intently on Ten’s arm—like his life depended on getting that one tiny shadow just right. He didn't meet your gaze. His jaw was clenched slightly, and you could see the tension in his brows. You raised a brow at him before turning back to Ten.

“He still texts me,” you said slowly. “But I haven’t said yes to his date invite yet… I’m not sure what to do.”

Ten hummed thoughtfully and turned his head to look at you. 

“If you’re not sure, I think it’s better to just turn him down now. You don’t want to waste anyone’s time.”

You nodded, unsure. “Yeah, but what if I regret it?”

Ten gave you a knowing look, one Jaehyun purposefully avoided. 

“You would've gone out with him a long time ago if you were really interested. You look like you're already into someone else anyway.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out because that actually made perfect sense. And the moment your eyes involuntarily glanced toward Jaehyun again, who was pretending he was way too focused on blending the shading, you felt your heart sink a little just from the weight of your own realization.

Later that night, after dinner and a little more quiet time at the tattoo shop, you finally sent Mr. Perfect Hair guy a message.

It was kind, honest.

You thanked him for his sweet words, told him you appreciated the gesture, but your heart wasn’t in the right place to start anything with him. 

He responded quickly.

"That’s okay, really. Thanks for being honest. Whoever the guy is that ends up with you… he’s lucky. Good luck."

You smiled softly at the message. And without even thinking, your thumb hovered over another chat—Jaehyun’s. You didn’t type anything yet, but your heart was already miles ahead.

You were hanging out in the tattoo shop again, quietly studying your cases spread out on the table. The faint scent of ink filled the air.

Jaehyun was at his usual spot by the big window, working intently on a sketch for Yuta’s new tattoo. His brows knit together in concentration, every stroke of his pen deliberate and precise.

Every now and then, you’d glance up at him. His muscular, sleeveless arms flexing as he moved, tattoos on his skin looking like they had stories to tell. When he caught your eye, he’d flash that warm smile, dimples deepening, before returning his focus to the sketch.

You felt a quiet comfort in the shared silence, your mind flipping between legal jargon and the mesmerizing sight of Jaehyun so absorbed in his art.

Finally, summoning courage, you broke the silence.

“So... do you think someone like me could ever... get asked out by someone like you?”

You kept your eyes on the table, pretending not to watch his reaction.

Jaehyun paused, then laughed—a deep, genuine laugh that made your heart skip a beat. You looked up quickly, suddenly nervous.

“O-okay,” you said quietly, gathering your things, voice trembling a little, “Sorry. Forget I said anything.”

You stood up, heading for the door, when Jaehyun caught your wrist and suddenly pulled you into a tight hug.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to laugh,” he said softly, his dimples showing as he smiled against your hair.

“I was laughing because... honestly, I can’t believe you beat me to it.”

You froze, heart pounding.

“I was going to ask you out,” he continued, voice soft but sure. “I just needed the right moment.”

You pulled back a little, searching his eyes. “Since when?”

His smile softened.

“Since the first time I saw you walk into the shop. You’re one of a kind—smart, funny, and somehow able to take my world-class jokes without rolling your eyes too hard.”

You laughed softly, the tension melting away.

“But when you told me about that lawyer guy who asked you out...” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Something just... flipped inside me. I realized I didn’t want to be just your tattoo artist friend or shopping buddy or your brother’s friend... I wanted to be part of your life, really part of it.”

Your breath hitched, warmth flooding your chest.

“So, what took you so long?” you asked, voice gentle but teasing.

He grinned, that familiar mischievous spark lighting up his eyes.

“I’ve been waiting for the right moment to ask you but you just beat me to it. And honestly? I’m glad you did.”

You smiled, like something long-awaited had finally arrived. Jaehyun pulled you back in for a tighter hug, his arms warm and secure around you as he gently swayed your bodies side to side. You could feel the steady beat of his heart against your cheek, his chin resting lightly on your head.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he murmured softly, voice slightly muffled in your hair.

“You walking into the shop that first day? I thought Johnny brought you just to test my self-control.”

You chuckled into his chest. “You almost ruined his tattoo.”

He laughed, the low sound vibrating through your frame. “Because you made me laugh. Still do.”

He leaned back just enough to look at you, brushing his thumb over your cheek.

“I didn’t think someone like you could really look at someone like me and see beyond the ink or my dumb jokes.”

You reached up, fingertips tracing the curve of his jaw.

“I always saw you. I just thought maybe you didn’t see me like that.”

Jaehyun smiled, dimples deep, eyes soft.

“And I’ve always seen you. I just didn’t want to risk losing you before I was sure.”

His hand found yours, fingers intertwining, and he gave them a small squeeze.

Then, with a teasing grin, he said, “So… what’s gonna happen to that Mr. Perfect Hair guy? The one who fell in love with you at first sight?”

You tilted your head, feigning confusion.

“Mr. Perfect Hair? Hmm. Can’t say I know anyone like that.”

Jaehyun raised a brow, amused.

You bit back a smile, lowering your voice just a little.

“I am waiting for some guy to ask me out, though. Handsome, tattooed, annoyingly good at puns. I heard he might be free this weekend, and lucky me—I don’t have any cases to work on.”

For a second, Jaehyun didn’t move. Then that deep, warm laugh of his escaped as he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your nose, dimples flashing.

“Perfect,” he murmured, still smiling. “I think that guy’s been waiting for the weekend, too.”

Weeks later, you were back in the tattoo shop when Jaehyun held out his hand.

On his ring finger was a tiny tattoo—your initials with a small heart.

“Tattoos last forever, right?” he said with that cheesy grin you secretly loved.

“So does my love for you.”

You smirked and pointed at your ring finger.

“Think you could tattoo mine with your initials?”

He leaned in close, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Only if you pay me with a kiss.”

You smiled and kissed him.

And just like that, your unspoken love was inked into reality—permanent, beautiful, and real.

[cycat-carisi]

Invisible

Pairing: Steve Harrington x shy!reader

Summary: A longing to be noticed finally fulfilled.

Tags/warnings: mention of partying, Steve finally went to college, shy MC, no use y/n, angst with a sprinkle of hope

Words: 922

A/N: This one's dedicated to all the peeps out there who have ever felt invisible. For those who others disregard just because they're not outgoing. You will the center of the universe for the right person <3

Also, this one was sitting in my drafts so I decided to throw it out there into the interwebs. It's a short little idea I had one day and is the original start to a different fic idea I had. That one is still in the drafts though lol.

Fic below the cut or on AO3

He was just a boy at the opposite end of a dark room. A sea of people between you. Never knowing you existed. With perfectly styled hair and a charming smile, he drew others in like a magnet. Solo cup in hand, he engaged with everyone around him. So many faces, how could he possibly have known them all?

But he is Steve Harrington. Everyone knew him and wanted to bask in his aura, even for just a moment. It was as though his mere presence would elevate theirs in the social circles of Hawkins High.

That is, except for you. You were always the shy one that flew under the radar. The one who no one knew until they would lean over, whispering for answers during class. And out of politeness, and perhaps a hidden longing, you would always concede.

Maybe that was what you were hoping for that night too. Some piece of recognition, however small. Acceptance from the popular boy and his friends. Yet, invisibility was once again your only identity, having failed to be noticed amongst the fray.

And then years passed, high school a mere checkpoint along your path to success. You often fantasized that the popular crowd now spent their days floundering in academics that they wished they had paid attention to in high school.

You sometimes even imagined Steve Harrington, with his perfect hair and charming smile, lost in a crowd of college students who don’t really care who he is. The same as you had felt during all those years of high school. A revenge of sorts for the unrequited crush you harbored for a boy who didn’t even know your name.

Fantasies, however, sometimes have a way of becoming reality.

You don’t know why you had agreed to come to this awful dorm party, with its drunken crowds and loud music. But perhaps a craving for a sense of belonging you still had not achieved was an underlying, driving force. Yet, just like during your Hawkins High days, the house party was filled with gorgeous cheerleaders and handsome jocks, each flaunting their money and popularity to one another, with you still very much out of place.

Except, as you look across the dark room, with a sea of people between you, you notice a familiar face. Perfectly styled hair is still his signature feature, but the charming smile he once wore is now tired and sad. People flow around him, like a boulder in a stream. He is no longer a magnetic force. And, while you should feel vindicated that Hawkins’ hotshot no longer sits atop a pedestal, your stomach instead twists with sympathy.

Lost in your thoughts, that is when his gaze finds yours. A flicker of recognition ignites in his eyes. A slight pinch of a smile edges the corner of his mouth. And then he’s moving. The crowd seemingly falls away as you realize that Steve Harrington is making his way over to you.

Perfect hair, honey eyes, and the overwhelming scent of his expensive aftershave confront your senses.

“Hi,” he mouths through the pulsing bass of a nearby stereo.

You take in his smart blazer and slick jeans, trying to bring yourself back to reality. Surely, he must only recognize your face from his senior yearbook.

“Hi,” you utter timidly in return.

Then, he speaks your name.

It takes you by surprise.

You have never spoken to him beyond necessary classroom interactions or when he, too, would lean over to ask you for answers.

“I always knew you’d end up in college,” he compliments when you only respond with a nod. “I never thanked you for all those times you helped me out in class, but I hope you know that I appreciated it even if I didn’t seem grateful at the time.”

Hawkins’ most popular boy knows your name and remembers you well enough to thank you for something as insignificant as homework answers given years ago.

Shock still paralyzes your system.

You watch his kind eyes blink once, twice, waiting for you to respond.

“You know my name?” is all you manage.

The boy’s brows knit with confusion. He nods affirmatively. “Yeah,” he speaks gently, despite the deafening music. “I’m Steve. Steve Harrington,” he adds innocently as if you genuinely wouldn’t remember him. “We went to Hawkins High together.”

“I—I know who you are; I just didn’t think you would remember me.”

Hurt flashes across Steve’s face. There is a disappointment embedded in his features that existed long before this moment.

He glances at the ground. “I’m sorry.” His words hold the weight of a thousand years. “I know I was a colossal jerk in high school, but a lot has changed since. And despite how I acted, I never meant to make you feel like you didn’t exist.”

The smooth words and cocky demeanor that Steve had back in Hawkins simply aren’t there. That persona has been replaced by someone who carries a heavy burden in their heart and their mind.

“Do you think we could start over?” Those honey irises flick up towards yours once again.

Your stomach lurches, an old flame reignited.

Despite the past, despite the logical reasoning of your brain, you finally allow yourself to smile. “Yeah,” you speak, almost in a whisper. “I’d like that.”

The boy with the perfect hair and charming smile is now back in front of you, except this time you are no longer invisible. This time, as he offers you his hand, you are seen.

Fin

Feedback is loved ♥

[yaeverse]

Dinner Date | j.ww

pairing: class president! wonwoo x playgirl!reader

summary: going on a date with your class president who actually have had a secret crush on you for a while

warnings: slight nsfw, fluff, a few wet kisses

a/n: helloo nyxies, i'm still new to writing so deepest apologies if there some grammatical errors found in my fanfic. anyways, enjoyyy

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You could say you were hell ass surprised when he asked you out to dinner after winning the school art competition. Your class president, Jeon Wonwoo, also known as the campus heartthrob had a secret crush on you for sometime now. The man was undeniably handsome, hot, smart and basically a walking wet dream that had every girl or boy drooling over him

Walking and pacing around your room, figuring out on what to wear, making sure to not look like you're whoring yourself on your first date with Wonwoo, your mind brings you back to the moment he asked you out.

(flashback)

"y/n, will you go on a date with me..?" he asks as he looks at you with a stoic face. Wonwoo actually had this all planned in his head but things didn't really go as well as he thought it would, "I'll pick you up later at seven.." he continues, leaving no space for rejection.

(end of flashback)

"Dammit, Jeon Wonwoo.. you got me nervous over a date.." you sigh, deciding on wearing a turtleneck croptop partnered with a skirt. Yeah, you've had your past relationships and flings, but oh damn, did Wonwoo got you this nervous.

Hearing your phone ring, you immediately sat up answering the call.

"Hey.." you said,

"I'm outside.." he says in a husky voice, sending shivers down your spine,

"Alright, I'm heading out.."

This was absolutely the very first moment of you being nervous of stepping out your apartment. I mean, we are talking of Jeon Wonwoo, who wouldn't be nervous.

Stepping out your door, your eyes meet Wonwoo's gaze as he stands awestruck at your beauty.

"You look.." he stutters, "beautiful, y/n.."

"oh hey, we're twinning!" you smile excitingly at the adorable coincident

He stares at you, his heart fluttering at the sight of your smile. You had quite a reputation around campus, 'Playgirl Y/N', but couldn't care less. He just saw you for who you are.

The drive was comfortably quiet. Exchanging a few glances and questions to lift the awkward tension.

"so, congrats on winning earlier.." he says, glancing in your direction,

"thanks" you smiled back, "i never thought i'd win, i messed up a few paints due to nervousness.."

"what are you talking about?" he lightly chuckles, turning the steering wheel as he talks with you, "yours was the best one there, so of course you'd win.."

You can't help but smile at his words. "thank you, wonwoo.."

After a few minutes drive, you two finally arrive.

"We're here" he says, stepping out of the driver's seat to open your door

You can't help but your eyes widen and mouth drop in agape at how beautiful, and to say expensive the place looks. He really went all out for a first date, and you think you don't deserve this kind of treatment.

"Let's go..?" he asks, guiding you by your waist, "don't be nervous, y/n, be yourself.."

"Y-you didn't really have to do all this..." you look up to meet his gaze

"Well, I wanted to"

Dinner was mostly filled with a few exchanged talks and warm conversations. Getting to know each other, and finding a few interesting facts that none of the two of you thought to be possibly real.

Spending time and getting to know him made you realize that he is everything you could ask for a guy. After having failed relationships, and jumping from one guy to another, you finally conclude that Jeon Wonwoo is YOUR TYPE OF MAN. You now can see why almost everyone in campus say the he's the perfect ideal boyfriend a girl can ever ask. He's a complete gentleman, smart, handsome, hot, a walking wet dream, like everything. You just know that after this date, you will never be the same. You could already feel the effects this guy has over you.

"Did you enjoy the dinner, y/n?" he asks,

"Of course, I did," you smile, as you took out your wallet "Oh- I can pay the dinner-"

"You're not paying dinner, princess," he chuckled, gently pushing your hand back to yourself, "I already payed anyways.."

"Y-you're too much, won.." you smile warmly at him,

"Nothing's too much, y/n," he smiles back, "You ready to go home..?"

You nod and as a gentleman he is, he escorts you outside, holding your waist. The warmth of his palm on your waist was enough to send butterflies bursting to your stomach, making your heartbeat crazy.

"So, uh, this is goodnight i guess.." he mumbles as he walks you to your door, "good night, y/n..."

"wait-" you pause, realizing what you just said

"yes..?" he immediately looked back, giving you all his attention

he walks closer to you, leaning in as he sees your eyes laid on his lips, making him chuckle.

"my eyes are up here, princess.." he smirked, "may i..?"

No words came out but you just nodded. He slowly leans in. Your heart beats in anticipation as you close your eyes, ready to feel his lips on yours.

But, oh damn, was he soft like feather.

You tensed up feeling his lips on yours. 'Get a grip, y/n, it's not like it's your first time kissing someone' you mentally scold yourself. You then feel his hand settle on your waist as the other settles behind your neck, pulling you closer to him.

You two pause for a moment to catch your breaths as he rested his forehead on yours. You smiled, and you know he's smiling as well. He then leans in again with more affection.

"Mmhh.." you hear him moan to the kiss as he swiftly licks your lower lip, begging to get in. With pleasure, you open your lips partly and he slide his tongue in immediately.

You two get lost in the moment, feeling waves of pleasure and adrenaline rush through every inch of your body at the sensation of his tongue dancing with yours. His hand grip your neck a bit tighter as he pulls you closer to give him more access inside your mouth as he makes out with you.

The kiss slowly calms down as you two pull back, gasping for air, foreheads resting against each other.

"We're going for a second date then..?" he asks with a light chuckle, his thumb caressing your waist,

"You're a good kisser, by the way.." you laugh, "And yes, a second date would be fucking great.."

He pecks your lips as he replies, "Next time, you'll receive more than a kiss, princess.."

Your face becomes a blushing mess as he smirked at your reaction

"W-Wonwoo...!" you whine playfully as you hit his chest,

"God, I'll make you scream my name next time.." he smirked, chuckling in a low tone,

"See you around, princess..." he greets you goodbye as he drives his car away

You just know that there'll be no more next guy after Wonwoo.

And you just know that in the next date, you'll end up being unable to walk

[ediblechainsaw]

Who Are You?

Chapter One, A Stranger

Chapter summary: Johnny notices you for the first time.

Cw. This series is going to be dark, with some non-con/dub-con elements, stalking, smut, mentions of violence and injuries, and just an insane, mentally unstable Johnny. MDNI, please.

1.5k words

Your home's hardwood floor is cold against the bottoms of your feet as you sleepily shuffle to your kitchen. You're working on autopilot, brewing some coffee, something to wake you up and get you ready to start the day. The sun shines in from your open living room window, along with a cool autumn breeze. Through your window, you have a perfect view of the park in the middle of your housing addition.

A pretty big park, with all the usual equipment for kids, a place fenced off for dogs to play, benches and picnic tables, along with a trail that disappears into a forest of trees.

You've lived here for a while now, so you recognize almost all of the kids and their parents.

But amoungst the groups of parents, paying more attention to their phones than their children, there's that guy again.

He stands out like a wolf amoung sheep, with his strange hairstyle, brown hair cut into a mowhawk that's grown out too much to the point where it no longer stands up, instead swooping over the side of his head. Wrinkled clothes that look like they were picked up from his floor and thrown on without a second thought.

He's there everday, sitting on the same bench at the edge of the park. He's always all by himself, no friends or pet accompanying him. Only him and his sketchbook and pencil, every day without fail.

Once, you remember, it was pouring down rain, yet he was still sitting out there, an umbrella the only thing sheilding him and his sketchbook from the weather.

The smell of your freshly brewed coffee fills your nose and snaps you out of the memory. You study the strange man for a moment longer before heading to your kitchen and grabbing your cup, holding it with both hands, the heat seeping through the porcelain and into your cold fingers. You can't tell if you live or hate this time of year. On one hand, it's a nice break from the hot, sweaty summer days and you're finally able to layer your clothes again, not to mention that the neighborhood kids are back in school, so it's quieter. But on the other hand, you're easily cold and you liked the sounds of kids playing. The excited screaming was almost comforting, a reminder of childhood glee.

Like every other morning, you sip your coffee and scroll on your phone. Photos and videos of your friends' lives fill your feed. One friend was just proposed to by her boyfriend, the sunsetting on the beach in the background and a wide smile on her face. Another friend just got promoted at his job, commenting that hard work pays off. Another just had her second kid. All of them look happy and fulfilled, like their lives are going the way they planned.

A feeling of wrongness stings in your chest. You push it down because you don't have the time to analyze your life and find out where you went wrong. You'll do that later, deep in the night when your brain won't turn off. Right now you have to get dressed and ready for work.

The thing that attracted you most to this housing complex was how close it was to downtown, to the diners and bars and shopping centers that are almost always open and fairly busy. Meaning that your commute to work was almost always on foot or bike, letting your ancient vehicle sit in your driveway and take up space.

As you get dressed, your mind wanders to that guy. He's still there when you walk past him on your way to work. He must sense your staring because lifts up his head and turns to look at you.

Piercing blue eyes and an expression that you can't name, you're momentarily stunned by his ruggedly handsome features. He has a scar in the side of his head, right on his temple.

You swallow and look away quickly, chiding yourself for being so rude as to stare at and be suspicious of a guy who's just sitting at a bench in the park.

Even still, there's a question on your tongue. A question that snakes its way around your mind and squeezes, repeatung yourself until you have to dig out a Tylenol from your purse to calm the overwhelming noise in your head.

Who are you?

Johnny MacTavish no longer goes by his nickname, Soap, or his old rank, Sergeant. He lost those titles after he made one little wrong decision- neglecting to wear a bulletproof helmet- after years of right decisions. Now he's just Johnny, a shell of his younger self.

He went to therapy a while ago, after his honorable discharge. The therapist was an old man, his desk a dark wood. It matched the bookshelves on the wall, stuffed to the brim with books about self healing and psychology. It took Johnny one fourty five minute session to figure out that the man was an idiot. But there was one question the therapist asked that keeps popping up in Johnny's mind.

Who are you?

The question riddled Johnny speechless. Before the accident, He would've answered it with a stupid, shit eating grin, Ah'm Sergeant MacTavish, the best at blowin' things up in task force 141, an' the bonniest.

But now? Now he doesn't know. He can't remember who he was before joining the military, before he dedicated decades of his life to fighting and setting off bombs. The military had a way of doing that to someone, to turning you into a new person and erasing who you once were.

Who are you?

That question drives him insane. Because there are so many answers to it, but none of them feel right. None of them make the question go away, make his injured head quiet.

There's nothing that makes his head silent for good, just some things that quiets it for a little while. Like drawing.

Johnny can't draw as good as he used to be able to. His fingers shake and he ends up smearing the lead on the paper, but it's a distraction and the one of the only things that makes him feel normal. So he walks to the park near the little house he rents and draws the people there. Sometimes he gets weird looks, which he understands. A single, rough looking man sitting on a bench, surrounded by children. It's normal for people to be suspicious, to clutch their children closer to them and narrow their eyes. He doesn't mind.

It's nice morning. The sun is warm on his neck as he hunches over his sketchbook, drawing the old man walking his also old dog on that trail that dissapears into the forest. The dogs ears droop to the ground as its short legs trot alongside it's owner. Drool hangs from it's mouth as it pants, but it's tail wags happily. The elderly man uses a cane to walk, and is dressed old fashioned.

Johnny's tries to capture the two, and their slowness helps, but even though he tries to move quick, he isn't quick enough.

Frustration burns in his chest, hotter that the shining sun above him. He wishes he could stop time, make everyone still so that he can take as much time that he needs to to sketch everyone. Or maybe he needs a muse, someone to stay still for him while he sketches.

Just as he thinks that, he feels eyes staring at him. Now, he isn't a stranger to veing stared at. Normally he wouldn't even turn, just ignore it and continue try to remember what that man and dog looked like and finish his sketch, but these eyes feel different.

So he lifts his head and turns.

His brain quiets.

His pulse races.

His eyes widen and he's starting to sweat, but it has nothing to do with the heat and everything to do with the woman he's looking at. You.

He must be hallucinating. Maybe it's the new medicine his doctor put him on. He should check the bottle, see if a side effect of it is hallucinating beautiful women.

Or maybe it's divine intervention, a gift from the universe to him, a reward for his time in the service, the reason that he survived a bullet to his head.

It's another question that Johnny can't answer, but it doesn't bother him. His hands tremble, his fingers tightening around his pencil.

Johnny doesn't know why he's found you, but from the way his brain quiets and his fingers itch as they tighten their hold on his pencil, he knows what you can be for him.

His muse.

You look away only a second after he locks eyes with you. He watches as you speed walk past, towards downtown. Johnny can't look away until you disappear from his vision. He flinches as the noise returns to his head, not even realizing that his brain was quiet. For the first time since the accident, he genuinely smiles.

In his head the question still repeats, but this time it isn't targeted towards him. It's targeted towards you.

Who are you?

Johnny is going to find out.

A/N: thank you @presepohne for giving me the support for this and the confidence to post this. this wouldn't be done without you <3

[turcott3]

the set up

cole caufield x fem! reader

warnings?: alcohol, cursing, kissing, smut, unprotected sex, public sex

masterlist

-

“truth.” you spoke aloud. you were at emma’s bachelorette party, one day before the rehearsal and you were all drunk playing truth or dare like teenagers.

“i know you have a crush on one of the players, who is it?” she asks inquisitively.

“well i’ve always had a little crush on caufield.” you reply with a shrug and a light smile on your face.

“oh really?” emma giggles.

“yeah, i mean he’s just so happy all the time and he’s really handsome, how could i not like him?” you reply taking another sip of your drink.

“i mean yall would be cute honestly.” she continues, texting someone quickly on her phone.

“who ya texting?” steph asks her next to you.

“just brendan, making sure he’s not blackout drunk, you know.” she laughs, knowing the boys were also having their party today.

“oh also, i’ll have your bridesmaid and groomsmen pairings done in the morning.” emma speaks up shutting her phone off. the rest of the night was spent partying, thinking in the back of your mind that you had just admitted your crush on cole to your best friend.

-

“hello?” you groaned into the phone, a call from emma waking you up.

“did you see my text?”

“no i just woke up, i need ibuprofen before i stare at a bright screen.” you laugh lightly.

“oh did i wake you? i’m so sorry.”

“no no it’s fine, i needed to get up, ill read it in a sec.” you reply.

“okay thanks, see you in a few hours y/n!” she says.

“bye love.” you reply, ending the call and getting up, digging for your pills. you popped two before opening your phone back up to read her text. as you ran across your name you almost choked on your drink.

“cole?” you question starkly, eventually leading to a sigh.

“of course i’m with him.” you groan, now feeling pressure to look flawless to maybe impress him. you knew that you’d found him attractive for a while but you had zero clue how he felt toward you.

after many hours of getting ready and making sure your rehearsal dress was perfectly wrinkle-less, you finally were able to leave your hotel room and make your way to the rehearsal venue.

“y/n!” emma yells as you step through the door, running up to hug you.

“hope you enjoy your pairing, yall two are sitting over there for dinner.” she winks pulling away.

“you’re stressing me girl.” you laugh nervously, sitting at the small two top table by yourself. much to your demise, you didn’t get much time to prepare as cole walked into the room a mere 5 minutes later, finding his way to his seat.

“how’ve you been? i haven’t seen you in a while.” cole asks smiling.

“oh i’ve been great, how about you?” you ask, picking at your manicure.

“better now that i’m here.” he replies, turning to face the couple as they were about to speak, a blush creeping onto your cheeks.

“hey guys so, before we get to eating dinner i just wanted to go over like the order of how everything’s gonna go just so we’re all prepared for tomorrow. and i won’t be mad that it’s not perfect, it’s not supposed to be. but if we don’t have any fun whatsoever, then we’ve failed our mission of being ‘the gallaghers’ so let’s hope we can do that at least.” emma spoke loudly amongst the room. she spoke for a few minutes just running through the order of how everyone is gonna walk out, you and cole being the third “couple”.

“and one last thing, i’m not making you guys sit at separate tables, i sat you with your pairing just because i didn’t like how it looked on the seating chart so, basically you’re attached at the hip all night. sorry.” she laughs, you knew she was particular in not wanting the wedding to be old school and formal.

“you think you got that all down?” you ask, trying to make it seem like you weren’t anxious, and it was starting to work. your nerves were beginning to ease as your anxiety seemed to remember that cole wouldn’t hurt a fly.

“i think i do. and we’re about to practice so that’ll be the test.”

“i’m nervous for tomorrow though.”

“whys that?” he asks, taking a bite of the plate that was sat in front of him.

“what if i like trip on my dress or like sneeze. i’m just scared ill ruin it.” you admit.

“it’ll be fine, you’re just over thinking it.” he replies and you nod knowing he’s right.

“that reception is gonna make it worth it though.” you giggle.

“oh absolutely, that’s gonna be the best part.” he replies

“and you’ll dance with me right?” he asks, with a hopeful smile on his face.

“oh um,” you pause finishing the sip you were about to take, “yeah of course i will.”

“great, i was hoping you would.”

-

you’d spent a vast majority of the night getting to know cole, which you loved doing. he’s an easy going guy who’s very sweet and respectful, which you adored. you went to bed tonight pondering on what the day would bring the two of you. you could feel the flirting between the two of you all evening.

the next morning, you woke up feeling refreshed. you went over the details of the wedding in your head over and over until you didn’t miss a word. you grabbed onto your garment and makeup bag and fled the room, rushing to be by your best friends side as she got ready for her big day.

“so you nervous?” you ask.

“girl no, i already know im saying yes.” she laughs as she sits in the chair being dolled up by her make up artist.

“oh that’s good.” you replied unpacking your things beginning to get yourself ready with the girls. the time came quickly. it seemed like minutes passed by between the time you finished your hair to the time you were stood with the guy you’ve had a crush on for a year.

“you okay? you’re fidgety.” cole asks quietly.

“oh uh, yeah i’m okay. just nervous.” you say, his hand then softly rubbing up and down your back.

“don’t be nervous, you’re gonna be great. if you trip ill catch you. i’m here.” he replies reassuringly as you flash him a weak smile.

“thank you.”

“of course, and you look beautiful by the way.” he says before locking arms with you, prepared to walk down the aisle. you made it down without any trips and appreciated cole going the extra mile to help you up a couple of stairs. you all stood on your respective sides, admiring the couple between you, sharing occasional glances with cole from across the altar. selfishly, you couldn’t stop thinking about him and how kind he was to you just moments prior.

-

the reception started about 30 minutes ago and you’re already 3 wine glasses deep with cole. you’d been dancing for a while and finally made your way back to the table, still littered with the others. you both had grown to be decently drunk and were getting touchy with cole, which is something you wouldn’t DARE to have done about 45 minutes ago.

“cole is need to pee, will you come with me and hold my dress?” you ask, sporting proud puppy dog eyes.

“yes, come on.” he replies standing up reaching his hand out to you, you found your way to the, luckily, single stall restroom. you locked the door quickly and turn to face him.

“i actually don’t have to pee.”

“i know.”

“you do?”

“yes, you’ve been making it obvious.” he giggles.

“what do you mean obvio-“ you start and are cut off by his lips harshly on yours, but in a way you enjoy. it was a quick change in environment, the fun had subsided and all you wanted to know was how he felt buried deep inside you. you felt yourself grow wet at his hands grazing down your back and onto your ass. his lips trailed to your neck, nipping and sucking on the skin before returning back to your lips after a long moment.

“i don’t wanna ruin your make u-“ he starts.

“shut up and fuck me caufield.” you reply interrupting him, a skill you’d both acquired in the last two minutes. cutting him off. a look of shock briefly flashes across his face before a smirk takes over.

“are you sure?” he asks, his hands placed on your waist.

“what do you mean? did you not hear me?”

“no i mean are you sure you wanna do it here?”

“yes, i want you right fucking now cole, and maybe again later when you’re staying in my room with me.” you reply and he smirks, turning you around and bending you over the sink. he assists you in pulling the short train on youryour long skirt over your ass, pushing your soaked lace thong to the side.

“so wet already?” he asks dragging a quick finger through your soaked core.

“mhm.” you reply biting your lip. you looked down at his pants in the mirror as he quickly unbuttoned his dress pants, rubbing himself hard very quickly. you bit your lip as you watched him line his hard cock up with your entrance.

“nuh uh, eyes up here.” he says using his hand to push your chin back up, locking eyes with him as he ran his leaning tip through your wet folds.

“cole we have to be fast.” you complain, as if you weren’t enjoying the teasing. a sigh of relief left your mouth as he buried himself deep inside you, his tip brushing your g-spot instantly, your eyes rolling back.

“oh fuck.” you whimper, realizing you are in a very public place and have to make sure you keep your voice down. you mentally acknowledge the fact that you have no choice but to be fast in this moment, wanting to get the job done quickly. in thinking, you fucked yourself back onto him, colliding in the middle.

“god fuck-“ he grunts, placing his hands firmly on your ass cheeks, thrusting quickly, letting the fabric of your dress muffle the sound of your skin clapping.

“you’re so tight y/n.” he says, almost speeding up his already decent pace.

“oh my god cole, that’s it right there.” you whisper, tears forming in your eyes as you collapsed further over the sink. gently, he wrapped his arm around your chest pulling you up, deepening the angle of his thrusts, hitting your g-spot right on the head with each thrust.

“fucking god, i’m gonna cum.” you whine, a tear slipping from your eye.

“come on baby, cum for me. i will too yeah?” he asks with eyebrows raised in the mirror and you nod as the knot unravels in your stomach, shockwaves shooting through your body rapidly as he filled you to the brim with his milky climax, fucking you all the way through both of your highs.

“i can’t believe we just did that.” you sighed out, catching your breath.

“me either.” he chuckles behind you, pulling out slowly.

“oh fuck, here, stay right there.” he says observing the mess he made between your legs. he grabs a few sheets of toilet paper, carefully wiping you clean, tossing them in the toilet and pulling your panties back over your core.

“my eyes.” you groan looking in the mirror.

“let me see.” he replies and you turn around. he licks his fingers to fix the smudges under your eyes and around your lips, dabbing the sweat off your forehead with a paper towel.

“do i look okay?” you ask, pulling the dress back down.

“just as gorgeous as before.” he replies, readjusting his pants, making sure everything’s in straight.

“okay you ready?” he asks holding onto the door knob.

“wait hold on, can i ask you something?”

“yeah of course.”

“will you come stay with me tonight? like in my room?” you ask boldly, the buzz beginning to wear off.

“if that’s okay, yes of course i will.”

“it’s more then okay.” you smile lightly, wrapping your arms around his neck, pressing a firm kiss to his lips.

“good, then i can fuck you right.” he mumbles on your lips, kissing you again.

“woah fuck y/n i’m sorry.” he says as you pull away.

“what what’s wrong?” you reply nervously and he turns you by your hips to the mirror, using his hand to turn your head to the side, exposing the dark hickey he left on your neck.

“honestly, it’s fine, really.”

“are you sure?”

“yes cole it’s fine, and besides you’ll be littered in them tomorrow morning.” you wink, kissing him one last time as you turn the doorknob. he grabs your short dress train of the floor, carrying it as you walked out of the bathroom. you hear a chuckle a few feet away from you, realizing nick was standing there and definitely watched the two of you enter the bathroom.

“emma!” you shout as cole lets go of your dress, taking your hand as you jogged over toward her.

“we’ve been looking for you.” emma replies with a smirk on her face.

“oh uh, i just had to go to the bathroom and there was a line.”

“yep mhm, a line.” she laughs, turning your chin to the side, high fiving her husband.

“what?” you ask.

“bitch, what do you mean what? yall just fucked in true bathroom at my wedding and now you’re holding hands. oh brendan we have outdone ourselves.”

“what?”

“girl, i put you with him so that THIS would happen. nick was our spy, great help.”

“you wanted us to fuck at your we-“

“well that isn’t EXACTLY what we had in mind, i was thinking like a kiss during a slow dance on the floor but this? this is fucking gold.” she laughs hugging you, as you stood confused as ever.

“so this was a set up?” you scoff.

“well, yes.” brendon pokes in.

“thanks gally.” cole laughs, a soft hand wrapping around your hip.

“now yall go have fun.” emma says waving the two of you off.

-

“what a night.” you sigh, collapsing into your bed, cole right beside you.

“yes for real, we really got set up.”

“i’m not mad about it.” you reply.

“me either, i’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while.”

“why didn’t you, i’ve had a crush on you for like a year.” you laugh.

“yeah well, now we fucked in a bathroom at a wedding, i’d say that is quite the stride.” he smiles widely at you.

“i’m fucking exhausted. i would totally love to stay up and fuck all night but i feel like maybe we should sleep it off and then maybeeeeeeee fuck all morning?” you giggle.

“whatever you want baby.” he smiles, his thumb grazing over your cheek lightly, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips

“god you make it so hard not to just wanna fuck you like a damn bunny right fucking now.” you say and he busts out laughing.

“let’s go to sleep, come on love.” he says tucking the two of you under the covers.

“we can fuck like bunnies in the morning okay?”

“okay.” you pout, poking your bottom lip out.

“goodnight pretty girl.” he says softly.

“good night pretty boy.” you smile as he presses a light kiss to your nose.

-

[clonetrooperjournals]

Clumsy Confessions

Summary : You've always been a little clumsy but when you start to develop feelings for a certain batcher, you become a walking hazard, good thing he thinks it's cute Pairings : TBB Echo x Fem!reader (ex bounty hunter) Warnings : fluff, slight angst, reader is a clutz, cute ending Words : 1.3k masterlist here

“You alright there y/n?”  

You look up with bright red cheeks from the marauder floor as Echo looks over you in your embarrassed state, “I-I’m fine Echo!”  

You quickly leap up and head out of the ship before he can respond, as he stands there looking confused and a little hurt. It was pathetic how frazzled and clumsy Echo makes you, to the point where Omega always keeps band-aids on her. If people seen the way you act around him, they would never believe that you used to be a bounty hunter. You typically try to avoid him as much as possible, so you don’t become a burden to everyone around you, and it’s not his fault he’s the most perfect man you’ve ever met... maybe it is? You don’t even know anymore.  

You first met Clone force 99 at Cid’s after coming back from a job. You were talking to Cid behind the bar when they all piled in coming back from their job, and you were instantly intrigued. Cid noticed your fascination and hired you with them for her next job. You all became fast friends, and you really liked hanging out with them, especially Omega. She needed another girl in her life, and you were glad you could be that for her, which is how you ended up becoming an honorary member of the batch. Going on jobs with them or staying back with Omega when the jobs were too much for her to join, it just became your life, and you finally found a group of people you could call your found family. Then you started developing feelings for Echo. 

You don’t even know when it started but, he would come over and talk to you or ask you something and you would instantly get flustered. He would watch you with Omega and you would get two left feet and trip and fall and take everything in your path down with you. You've always been a bit of a clumsy person, but this was just ridiculous, and worse the entire batch new of your “not so subtle” crush on Echo. His sweet nature, his confidence, his selflessness, and his incredible handsomeness, it chipped at you until all you could think about was how much you liked him, maybe even loved him. However, since you couldn’t even walk in a straight line in his presence, you couldn’t even think about confessing to him which caused you to start avoiding him so you could save yourself some dignity. 

Cid stood behind the bar as you entered and gave you a smug look, “what’d you break now clumsy?” 

“Tripped over my feet and face planted on the ship floor...” you sigh.  

She just laughs at you, “Honestly clumsy, if you don’t confess soon your gonna lose a limb.” 

Tech sits beside you at the bar, typing away on his data pad, “Yes that is a high probability. With the recent increase to your already remarkable clumsy nature, your chances at accidental fatal injury are at 29.2%”  

“Thank you, Tech that was exactly what I wanted to know,” you turn to him, “is there any solution in that big brain of yours to help me?”  

He stops and looks up, “I have to agree with Cid on this one occasion. A confession would put your nerves at ease lowering your rate of clumsiness significantly... or it would increase. Depends on the outcome of the confession.” 

You put your head on the bar top, “and if he doesn’t like me back?”  

“Then I suppose you can continue your failed attempts at avoiding him.” 

You sigh, “I really am pathetic, aren’t I?” 

“Yes, you are! Grow some guts! You can’t be in our line of work and be a walking hazard!” Cid scoffs.  

“I just don’t want to lose him, or you guys...”  

Tech puts his hand awkwardly on your shoulder, “We all care a great deal about you. You wouldn’t lose us over something like this.”  

You look up at Tech’s small smile before he starts to type on his data pad again a warm feeling spreading through your body, “Thanks Tech.” 

... 

“I think I upset y/n.” Echo tells Hunter while their organizing their supplies. 

Hunter grins, “what makes you think that?”  

Echo sighs, “She’s been avoiding me. She won’t even look at me...” 

“Echo,” Hunter puts a hand on his shoulder, “She likes you. It's embarrassing how much sometimes, she’s not very subtle.” 

Echo freezes, “What?”  

“You can’t tell me you didn’t know. She can’t even walk in a straight line when you're in the room,” he chuckles.  

Echo looks at him confused, “I knew she was a little clumsy but... I don’t think it's because of me.” 

Hunter closes up the crate they were organizing, “Well do you like her?”  

A slight blush covers his cheeks, “I-I mean she’s... I...” 

“I’ll take that as a yes. Just confess to her Echo before she takes the whole ship down accidentally,” Hunter grins walking away. Echo stands there flustered and confused wondering if she really does like him back... 

... 

You head back to the marauder thinking about what Tech said and wanting to believe that nothing would change if you just told Echo your feelings, but that feeling of anxiety that sat in your stomach refused to leave.  

You entered the ship to silence, forgetting that Hunter said everyone was running out to do errands. You put your bag down and start to head to the cockpit when the fresher door opens revealing a shirtless Echo.  

You both freeze and stare at each other, your cheeks instantly turning bright red, “wow... I mean, sorry I th-thought no one was... here...”  

You look down avoiding his gaze as he grins realizing that Hunter may be right, “No worries. You mind passing me my shirt?”  

“S-Sure,” you say grabbing his shirt and walking over to him, except because you weren’t paying attention in your frazzled state you tripped over your bag and went hurtling forward. You closed your eyes expecting hard metal ground but instead felt warm skin. You opened your eyes to the toned pale skin of Echo’s abs, your heart jumping into your throat.  

Echo chuckles, “You alright?” 

“Yeah I... yeah...”  

Echo pulls you up but doesn’t let go, lifting your chin to look at him for the first time in weeks, “I always thought your clumsiness was cute, but you didn’t have to literally fall for me.” 

“I fell for you a long time ago,” you say and freeze, realizing the words that left your mouth.  

Echo froze too, scanning your flustered face for any sign that it wasn’t true, but what he found was red cheeks, a fluttering heart, and wide eyes that looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky.  

“I fell for you too, I just know how to walk properly when your around me,” he says gently stroking your burning cheek. 

You close your eyes, “D-Does this mean I can ask you on a date?”  

“I’d love to go out with you y/n,” he smiles warmly, his breath fanning our face, “but I wanna do something else first.” 

You open your eyes to his closed ones leaning in and kissing you gently. You immediately kiss back, cradling his face in your hands. He smiles into the kiss, gently trailing his light kisses all over your still red face and then leans back smiling.  

You trail your gaze over his figure a small smirk on your lips as you throw his shirt behind you, “couldn’t find your shirt...”  

He laughs shaking his head, his nose bumping yours, “Oh really?” 

“Yup. Might have to... check the whole ship...” you say as you kiss him again.  

He snakes his arms around your waist, “Well I better hold onto you, so you don’t go falling again.”  

You smile, “I can’t help falling for you, Echo.”  

He smiles kissing you again, “I’ll be here to catch you, every time.”  

[guilty-pleasures21]

Prom with Neighbour!Miguel

Just had this in my head.

Warnings: some suggestive thoughts.

_______________________________________________

     Imagine getting ready to go to prom with your childhood sweetheart Miguel who lives next door to you.  

     Your rooms have always faced each other, the floor-to-ceiling windows allowing you to flash each other scribbled notes when you’d still been too young to have smartphones. Miguel had even managed to convince his parents to get him a projector two years back so the two of you could watch movies together when you were meant to be sleeping on a school night. 

     You walk out of the shower in your t-shirt and shorts, your body freshly scrubbed and your makeup perfectly done. You stop in front of your bed, admiring the dress carefully laid out on top of it. It was made out of sheer lavender lace that sat over a white silk underskirt. Thin straps held the corset top up whilst two off-the-shoulder sleeves curled loosely around your arms. You’d even found the perfect ballet flats in the same colour that came with thick satin ribbons that wrapped around your calves. You’d felt like a Barbie princess when you’d tried the whole outfit on at the store! You’d sent Miguel a picture of the skirt once you’d bought the dress, letting him know the colour he needed to match, but also keeping enough of your outfit a secret for him to be pleasantly surprised when he picked you up before the dance. 

     You glance up at the thought of your boyfriend just in time to see him tug his shirt off. You blink at the sight of his broad back, dumbfounded by the defined lines of his muscles etched into his tanned skin. You knew he was fit - he’d been the captain of your school’s basketball team for the last three years - and of course you’d seen him with his shirt off before, but the sight of his bare torso never failed to stun you into silence. You bite your lip as he runs his fingers through his hair and your brain momentarily goes numb at the way his muscles flex at the movement. You close your eyes and shake your head, pulling yourself back into your body, but when you open your eyes again, he’s turned around. 

     Your lips part as your eyes trace the outlines of his abs and you swallow hard when your gaze lands on the bulge in his sweatpants. You slowly make your way up his chest, licking your lips at the broad planes, then your eyes travel up the length of his neck to his ear. You bite your lip, chewing on it like you were nibbling his soft little earlobe, then you slide your gaze along his chiselled jaw to his lips. They curl into a smirk and you look up to find him watching you with the same intensity that you’d been studying him with. Your eyes widen with horror as he fixes you with a devious grin and you spin around, mentally berating yourself for your actions. 

     Ay, mierda, you were so hot, parting your lips when they’d landed on his core like you wanted to wrap your mouth around him and swallow. The blood rushed to his centre at the image of him sliding himself down your pretty little throat and he closed his eyes as a wave of dizziness hit him. He smirked mischievously as he waited for you to look up at him and a soft snicker escaped his throat when your cheeks turned red with embarrassment. Mierda, you were cute. He placed his hands on hips as he continued to watch you, waiting with excitement to see what you’d do next. 

     Shit, shit, shit! Ugh! How embarrassing! You were the one who’d said that you weren’t ready to go all the way yet, but there you were checking him out like he was your favourite dessert! You let out a frustrated whine, then twist your head back to sneak another peek at him. Miguel raises his eyebrows, his lips still curled into that amused smile, and you cover your face with your hands. Ahh! He was so handsome! And all yours too! Ahh! 

     You jumped up and down as you squealed with excitement. Well, he guessed that you were squealing - he couldn’t hear you from all the way over in his room, but he knew how you got whenever you got excited. You stopped suddenly and took a few deep breaths to calm yourself down, then you looked back at him again, your expression mischievous this time. You turned back to your cupboard so your back was facing him, then you shimmied your shorts off. Miguel's eyes immediately fell to your legs, long and bare beneath your shirt, then they climbed back up to your ass. 

     You twist your head to sneak another peek at your boyfriend and you grin when you see that you have his attention. You curl your fingers around the hem of your shirt and tug it off before tossing it aside. You restrain yourself from looking back at Miguel and instead, gather your hair into a loose ponytail, treating him to a view of your back. You turn to the side and place your free hand on your hip, posing in front of the mirror in your cupboard, then you let your hair go again and finally turn to your boyfriend. Miguel’s gaze instantly lands on your chest, his eyes following the curves of your bra, and your nipples tingle at the hungry look in his eyes. You bend over, pushing your arms against your sides to plump up your cleavage, and Miguel bites his lower lip as he runs his fingers through his hair, clearly getting frustrated by your teasing. 

     Santo cielo, you looked so deliciously soft. His palms itched with the need to be squished up against your lush breasts and his teeth ached with the desire to nibble on your smooth skin. F*ck. He couldn’t wait until summer started - when you’d agreed to have sex with him for the first time. Thank god the two of you had gotten into the same university: then he wouldn’t need to wait until the weekends or holidays to be able to spend time with you. 

     You straighten again, flicking your hair back before running your fingers through it, and Miguel stares at you blankly as you shoot him a cheeky wink. You turn around and reach for your phone to send him a text. 

     ‘Should I change my underwear, cariño?’

     His eyes widened when he saw your message, catching onto your underlying meaning immediately. He looked up at you again and swallowed hard before nodding his head. 

     Your entire body buzzes with excitement at the hazy look in his eyes. He always made you feel so attractive, your boyfriend, lighting up whenever he saw you, proudly displaying you by his side whenever you were hanging out with your friends, admiring whatever outfit you dressed up in whenever you went out together. 

     Miguel watched intently as you spun back around and gathered your hair over your shoulder before reaching for the clasp of your bra. His heart thudded rapidly in his chest as you took it off and tossed it aside, revealing the entire expanse of your back to him. His eyes went round with desire and his pants tightened in anticipation of seeing your bare ass exposed before him. You paused to rummage around in your drawers, then you held out a mismatched set of underwear, still facing the other way. Miguel quickly grabbed his phone. 

     ‘Aren’t they supposed to match, bonita?’

     You replace the underwear back in your closet and laugh when you see his innocuous message. 

     ‘They don’t have to match, hermoso.’

     ‘Most places sell them separately.’

     ‘I think you’re thinking of lingerie.’ 

     His heart fluttered at the nickname - as it always did no matter how many times you used it on him - and he smiled as he looked up at you again. Then his heart leaped into his throat. 

     You let the lingerie you’d bought dangle from your fingers, teasing your boyfriend with the naughty sheer blue lace. You’d gotten it when you’d gone dress shopping with your best friend a few weeks ago. You’d been a little intimidated by the more raunchy sets of underwear, but you’d liked how desirable the cute little bra and panties had made you feel when you’d tried it on. 

     Ay, mierda. You were so mean, teasing him so badly like this. Miguel scrambled for his phone and swiftly tapped out his response. 

     ‘YES YES YES YES YES!!!’

     You laugh and keep the underwear back in your drawer. 

     ‘Hmm, I think I’ll save it for a more special occasion, actually … 😉😘’

     Miguel closed his eyes as another wave of dizziness hit him. P*tas, you were driving him crazy! He sighed as you clipped your bra back on, then furrowed his brows when you walked over to the window. You swept your gaze over him one more time, then pulled your curtains shut. Miguel let his head fall back as he groaned in frustration, then he trudged over to his closet to continue getting ready. 

     “Ah! You look so handsome!” You grinned when you heard your mother’s excited squeal come from downstairs: Miguel had arrived to pick you up. You smoothed out your dress and checked your makeup one last time, then you carefully made your way down to the entryway. 

     “Y/N!” your mum exclaims, delighting in your beautiful outfit. “You guys are matching!” 

     You lift your gaze to Miguel and your heart thumps happily when you see the lavender shirt he’s wearing under his jacket. 

     Ay, mierda, you were so, so beautiful! He stared silently at you as you walked down the stairs, admiring how pretty you looked in your fairytale dress. You stopped in front of him and smiled sweetly as you waited for him to say something. He grinned and held his hands out to you, rubbing his thumbs over the backs of yours when you placed them in his. 

     “You look so beautiful, princesa. Mi princesa hermosa.” His heart melted as you giggled softly at his praise, then your parents got the two of you to strike a few poses as they snapped pictures. 

     “Okay, guys,” you finally stop them when your phone starts buzzing with impatient texts from your friends. “We have to go or we’ll be late!” 

     You drag Miguel out of your house, laughing at your parents’ enthusiasm, and the two of you walk over to his driveway to get into his car. 

     “Oh my God!” you pant, sinking back into your designated seat. “That was like a workout on its own!” 

     You lean back against your boyfriend’s hard chest and he wraps his arms around you, holding you close against him. Your friends gradually collapse into their own seats around your table and you yell at each other as you struggle to be heard over the music. Eventually, the night comes to an end and where some of the more unsavoury characters in your year disperse to their own afterparty, you and your friends decide to head home. Miguel offers to drop off some of your friends who live in the same neighbourhood as you and soon, the two of you pull into his driveway. 

     “Do you want to go to sleep, princesa?” he asks after switching the engine off. You yawn, suddenly realising how exhausted you are. 

     “Yeah,” you admit tiredly. “I just want to put on my pyjamas and snuggle up in bed. Can we hang out tomorrow?” 

     Miguel leans over the console and presses a chaste kiss to your cheek. “Por supuesto, princesa. Message me when you wake up?” 

     You nod eagerly in agreement and Miguel walks you to your door like the gentleman he is. 

     “Night, Miguel, I love you,” you tell him, stretching onto your toes and wrapping your arms around his neck. 

     He bent over slightly and slid his arms around your waist, hugging you tightly against him. “Night, princesa, I love you too.”

[slippinninque]

🤭💗👀

Fontaine x blackfemreader

Warnings: none, fluff, maybe a weee but of cursing, Fontaine being down bad for his lady 😌, vibe-fic, may need some edits

Fontaine couldn’t help but to smile as he finally crossed the threshold to your home. He took a minute to breathe in the scent of rainfall mixing in with the incense you've left lit by the front door. When you failed to meet him at the door, he called out,

"Baby, baby…?”

He kicked off his shoes and pulled his hoodie over his head, hearing the sound of crashing waves before he saw it.

"In heeere!"

Whenever you called him with that sleepy-come hither, Fontaine picked up any money he had on the floor to come be up under you. Your off days were Fontaine’s off days. He went the rest of the way and there you were, right where he knew you’d be.

Resting on pillows and a few blankets, you were every bit of a comfortable piece of cake. Surrounded by your usual comforts of chocolate and popcorn, a book turned pages-down on your belly as a whale breached on the TV screen.

It looked like you hadn't moved an inch since your video called to him earlier, shyly asking if he wanted to come spend the day with you. Fontaine had already put his shoes on when he saw your name flash across his screen.

You reached leaned up to look up at Fontaine when he came around the back of the couch to look down at all of you. Sexy as hell, sitting there in your peace, it damned near made Fontaine hungry.

“Hi handsome...” Your lips pursed for kisses that he was already leaning down to dispense.

“Hey, titties—pretty! I mean-I meant--!”

Mouthed dropped open in shock, you gave him a delightedly scandalized look—a hand pressed lightly to your chest. Not enough to hide anything busting out of your cami, but enough to make your point.

Fontaine folded, hiding his burning face in one hand and supporting himself on back of the couch as your laugh bloomed out.

“Excuse me? Mr. Chamberlain?”

“I—I got a head of myself…”

“Oh, did you--

Fontaine interrupted you with a sweet, sound kiss, then continued,

“See, ‘cause I wasn’t suppose to lead with that--

“Right.”

Your kiss caught him off guard but he made a noise like he popped a Hershey. His eyes tracked down to your chest again,

“Meant to work up to that, see what I’m sayin’?”

“Oh, I see. Got a little a head of yourself?”

“Absolutely. Saw you and your ladies sittin’ there looking fine as shit...I’m only a man, baby.”

“You’re my man…”

“ ‘Sho is...”

By now, in between every word was a kiss. Deliciously slow. The two of you fit together like warm, sure hands. Fontaine hated missing you but there was nothing as refreshing as being rewrapped in you.

Fontaine wriggled over the edge of the couch as you giggled, pulling at him even though he was already easing down on top of you. Always so careful, always so gentle, as if he didn't regularly request for him to bend and break you.

His weight, his smell, the sound he made when your legs slotted together—you purred.

“My man, my man, my man is here!”

He laughed as he smelled a familiar fragrance of something that probably had something to do with your especially good mood. Fontaine settled down and surrendered to your reverse octopus hold.

Your hands found the back of his neck, scratching lightly and massaging at the skin there and his shoulders. Fontaine sighed and sank into your hold, resting his cheek onto your chest and nuzzling softly. The action rewarded him with a pleasing song of your body butter and detergent.

You're being so happy to see him made him feel special, like none other, like he could never go another day without seeing you first thing in the morning.

Maybe it was time for y'all to have matching keys to a place. Anyplace you wanted. If you wanted to swing from the canopies in the rainforest or dig out a home in the arctic snow--Fontaine would make it happen.

To the sound of your beating heart, the feel of your strong fingers working out kinks, and the warmth of your perfect titties--Fontaine blissfully thought of nothing else but being held by you.

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✨ending notes:✨ something that wouldn't get out of my head!!!! Work and life has been doing their thang but I'm grateful to be able to provide my scribbles when I can 💗💗💗Just needed to think of Fontaine's solid self getting some cuddles and, well, he told me how he felt 😌 tell me what you think!!! Comment and reblog and thank you for reading!!! ✨💖💖✨💖💖✨

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