#girl just say i suck and then at least i’ll know???? but every time everywhere i’ve been and applied i got told i’m doing great

[cupiare]

bless my agency consultant for emailing me on a sunday night he’s been a trooper and i make sure to remind him every time we talk that i appreciate his support but Damn. fr now is good feedback just synonymous with ‘we don’t need you’ or what. whats the wordplay i’m missing here

[gojoest]

FIRST WORD — girl dad!gojo satoru

girl dad satoru, established relationship (you’re married, it is indicated that you have two other kids besides the little one that appears in this drabble), nanami cameo, suggestive credits at the end (breeding hinted, just to be safe), sry this lowkey sucks + not proofread, i typed it out in 10 mins but i hope you enjoy!

satoru is trying really hard to get his little daughter to say “papa”, but oh well

“come on, my life — say it”

satoru, crouched down before the baby chair where his little daughter is sitting, a picture of his face in one hand while the other alternates between pointing at the photo and then at his face, slowly repeats, over and over, with utmost perseverance and patience, the first word he wishes his little one would utter—

“pa-pa”, he carefully speaks, syllable by syllable. “pa-pa”, and again. “come on, baby — at least you don’t betray me, i know you’re papa’s girl — come on now, say it”, he pleads.

this has been going on for the past few weeks.

your entire house currently looks like the room of a teenager where it’s posters on the walls and little trinkets on the shelves, courtesy of heavy hyperfixations. but instead of posters and trinkets it’s your husband’s face, everywhere. kitchen, living room, hallways, your baby’s room — every-single-where and every-single-surface and wall has the photograph of your husband’s face on it. he even purchased custom-made plushies and toys of himself, some of which are hanging from the musical baby mobile above your daughter’s crib — but instead of music it’s his voice, teaching his toddler through made-up songs how to say ‘papa’.

“satoru, don’t you think this is a little bit, um— “, you once brought up, pausing to clear your throat, trying your best to sound softer while you say this. knowing how sensitive he is about the matter, and how devoted to have this innocuous win — “…too much? hm, love? it’s like you’re… brainwashing the baby…”

lips immediately pursed, satoru pouted under his nose — “easy for you to say, our two other kids said ‘mama’ first — effortlessly, at that. let me have this one at least”

okay, you shrugged and backed off.

and this morning, as you sipped on your coffee, you silently watched your husband in the kitchen — kneeled down before the baby chair, going about his educational routine.

after he was done with the photos, he took your daughter’s hand and pressed her fingers on his lips, while he kept repeating the word ‘papa’. he said that this method allows the baby to see the way your mouth moves as you speak but also hear and feel the sound all at the same time. (he sure has read a lot of things on the internet)

but your little one remained silent, only giggling here and there as she poked around her father’s face, completely refusing to cooperate with him despite his desperate attempts.

it is an endearing sight, really. part of you felt pity for your husband, you cannot lie. he was trying so hard, and for what...

all of a sudden,

the doorbell rings.

“i’ll take it”, you quickly pad over to open the door.

it’s nanami — dropping by with some baked treats for the kids, as he often does. your children love him a lot. during dinner gatherings he always sneaks away to read them bedtime stories. even though he doesn’t look like the type on the surface, he sure has a soft spot for children. and, truth be told, they are all naturally drawn to him as well. maybe it’s his calm demeanor and the sense of safety he brings along with his presence.

“ah, thank you — these look so delicious, i am sure the kids will die for a bite”, you chime, as you guide him into the kitchen.

“oh— nanami, it’s you”, satoru casually points out without even turning his head to greet him, his eyes glued on his little daughter… who seems to be looking elsewhere, past her father…

…at nanami.

a bit bothered by that, satoru shifts a little bit to the side, to block the view — to, once again, be the main focus in his daughter’s eyes. but, alas…

she tilts her head, googly eyes glancing at the blond man behind her father.

she opens her mouth, a giggle first escapes, and then—

“na-na���”, she pauses… “—mi” — a beam of laughter and her hands reaching forward, pointing at nanami.

silence in the kitchen befalls.

you cover your mouth with a hand, trying to prevent yourself from bursting into laughter. it’s tragic but funny at the same time, and you know — in just a few seconds the real baby in this room will not be your daughter.

“nanami”, satoru slowly stands up, shoulders hanging low and voice — monotone and stern. “get out”

p.s.: satoru makes a scene. he is absolutely devastated. you have to drag him away and pick up the pieces and calm him down. and, of course, he thinks — the only way to make things better is to give him another child. a new opportunity…and you need to get down to business, now. while nanami is babysitting downstairs.

[evieolo]

House of Cards — Chris Sturniolo x Reader

Contains: Mentions of drugs/mentions of sex

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

I’m in love with Christopher Sturniolo, the worst part about it is that he’s not in love with me. He’s chaotic and stupid, in the way that makes girls gravitate towards him. I knew what I was getting myself into when I kissed him, or at least I thought I did. I wasn’t until his touch gave me butterflies and his eyes made me want to melt until I realized how utterly and completely fucked I was. Because the man who deems you as “casual” and pushes you aside at every party you drive together to definitely doesn’t want you.

“Let’s take this upstairs.” He breathes harshly against my neck where he leaves a vibrant trail of hickeys up to my jaw. “Not here,” I murmur against him, pushing him away slightly. He whines at the loss of contact. “I’m not scared to fuck you at a party Y/N, you’d be surprised at where I wouldn’t fuck you.” He rasps. His hair tickles my neck and I feel my stomach flip. “Chris I-” he cuts me off, sucking on the sweet spot behind my ear, gently biting the skin before pressing a kiss to it. I creen my face in his neck to suppress a moan, “I know you want me Y/N, you're not good at hiding it.” He ushers letting his hands roam down to grope my ass. “Thought I wouldn’t notice how you press your thighs together when I kiss you huh?” I hum against his touch and snake my arms around his neck pulling his lips to mine.

He pulls back faster than I want him to. I whine wanting his lips back on mine. “Upstairs,” he whispers. If only he knew. I bite my lip, turning my gaze to my shoes. “What’s stopping you, ma’?” he breathes, a hint of sincerity in his voice. “Chris, I want to, you know I do, I just…” I trail off, feeling anxiety stifle my words. ‘I have feelings for you, and I’m afraid that if we fuck, that’s all I’ll be good for.’ I want to say, no, scream at the top of my lungs. “Ar-Are you a virgin?” he asks. ‘I’ve been with virgins before, Y/N; it’s nothing—’ I press my finger to his lips to hush him. “No, Chris” I shake my head, a small smile on my face. “I just…’”

“Dude we’ve been looking for you everywhere!”

I let out a breath of relief at Matt's voice. He walks over to us slowly holding out an arm of support to Nick. “Surprised you two aren’t sucking each other's faces off.” Nick retorts, obviously wasted. “I need to bring him home.” Matt says, crossing his arms, “You want a ride now? ‘Cause I'm not driving back here again.” Chris rolls his eyes. Noticeably annoyed we got interrupted. “I don’t want to bust my ass paying for another Uber so I’ll hitch this ride,” I say, trying to play off my eagerness in getting out of the situation. “Chris?” I question, looking up at him. “I’m going to hang around.” He says, obviously irked by my response. “See you tomorrow?” I ask Chris who’s already turning away. He takes a moment to respond, “Yeah” he chided not letting his mood slip past any of us.

Nick unintentionally kills the elephant in the room by stumbling into Matt. “Whoa-whoa!” He exclaims grabbing Nick's arm to stabilize him. “Time to go home bud.”

I lock eyes with Chris one last time shooting him an: I’m sorry look, he purses his lips and gives me a small nod. I turn to Matt where he’s started ushering Nick to the exit and grab his other arm hoping Matt won't have to support all Nick's drunken weight.

“You have to be straight with him Y/N,” Matt says once we’re settled in his car.

“What?”

“I see the way you look at him Y/N, you love him.”

I lay my head back against the headrest and sigh. “He doesn’t want to be anything but casual Matt, I know him,” I say a slight frown meeting my face. “Y/N, he’s my brother. I think I know him at least a tiny bit better than you do.” He says sarcasm laced in his speech, “I’ve seen that boy almost snap his neck because he heard your laugh and wanted to see why you were laughing but yes, keep telling yourself you're casual.” Matt says putting the car in reverse and staring out the driveway. I swallow the growing lump in my throat and look over to Matt whose new focus is the road. “I'll talk to him.”

༯ ༯ ༯

"Matt said he won't pick us up," I say, pressing my face to Chris’ chest. He bites his lip at the information. An hour ago we were damp from drizzles and now we’re drenched from downpours. “Why don’t you know how to drive you idiot,” I mumble into his chest. “Because if you were in a car with me I wouldn’t be able to keep my eyes on the road.” He hums.

I laugh, “You're awfully sappy today.” I say taking in our surroundings, we stand in the lot of a now-closed Chick-Fil-A, the street lights dim, and nearly no cars in sight, I look around until our eyes lock, his are soft and charmingly light smile rests on his face, it hurts and selfishly I want him to look at me like this forever like I’m the only thing that matters to him.

“We could get an Uber,” I say, breaking our silence. Chris slightly shakes his head pulling apart from our hug. “Let’s walk,” he says, grabbing my hand. “We’ll get soaked! Or sick!” I interpose, shaking my head. “More soaked than we already are? Plus my phone's dead so If we get this Uber you’ll be the one busting your ass paying for another Uber” He smirks, reminding me of what I’d said to Matt nights prior, he pivots, pulling me into the street to walk with him. Our hands brush together three times before I interlock our fingers and swing our arms back and forth slightly, humming. “You know it's half a mile to your house from here,” I say, stopping to look at him. “All the more time to be with you,” he says, smirking, “And all the more time to see your pretty bra through your shirt.” His eyes shamelessly fall to my chest, making me flush. The lacy pink bra I wore under my now transparent white shirt is on full display for him. “You're such a perv,” I whine. He grabs my face and kisses me, a fast peck before we start walking again. “You love it when I’m a perv.”

I look up at the boy next to me. The way the rain drips off his jaw, the way his wet hair shapes his face, and the way the streetlights brighten his eyes. I suck in a breath recalling what Matt said. Forcing the words out is harder than I could’ve anticipated. Thoughts cloud my mind. What if I ruin our friendship? Are we friends? We kiss a lot for “friends”

“Chris, I need to talk to you about something,” I blurt louder than I would’ve wished. He sees the ghastly look on my face and pauses, running a hand through his hair. “Please tell me you're not pregnant,” he jokes. I hit his shoulder suppressing a smile. It was the most Chris thing he possibly could’ve said and anything Chris-related made my heart melt but he couldn’t know that I thought he was funny.

“This is serious, you asshat. Plus, if I was pregnant, it wouldn’t even be your baby because we haven’t fucked.”

He shakes his head with a lopsided grin on his face, but his expression turns serious when he realizes my nervousness. "Okay, okay, what's on your mind, ma?" A pregnant silence falls upon us, and he looks at me with candor, a look that says take your time.

His sincerity only makes it worse. Him caring makes it worse. The way his face is relaxed with only the smallest uptilt to his lips. Maybe if every time he kissed me he didn’t look at me with those eyes, or if he didn’t mark my neck because he liked how it would make people look at us, maybe if he didn’t hold me close at night and listen intently to every word I let slip past my lips we wouldn’t be here and I wouldn’t be choking on my words. He tilts his head waiting for me to say something yet I simply stare at him.

"I-I-I—"

You’re not asking the man to marry you Y/N, get a grip!

My brain is screaming at me to tell him everything, but my heart refuses. Making my stomach feel like static.

I sigh letting out a harsh breath. Why is this so hard? He grabs my shoulders, halting our walk. "Breathe," he urges, his jaw clenched as his eyes fall on me. "I’m in love with you!" I blurt.

He looks at me with wide eyes and an unreadable expression. My heart clenches. I look down at my rain-soaked sneakers. "I—are we just friends if your breath is on my neck late at night? How many times does your thumb need to brush my lips before you realize what you do to me? Chris, it's killing me. Does it mean anything to you?" I plead I say it slowly, almost so slowly I can’t comprehend what I’m saying. But I’ve said something.

He brings his hand up and runs it through his hair, pausing for a moment too long. "Please say something," I cry. He exhales loudly, locking eyes with mine. "Jesus, Y/N, I want you so bad. Since you kissed me, I’ve wanted you," he breathes, pulling me into his chest.

"What?" I murmur. "I want to be everything," he breathes, brushing my wet hair out of my face. "I want to take you on dates and buy you gifts, fight over what movies we're going to put on, make you laugh, make you moan, make you safe." A tear drips down my face, mixing with the rain. "Really?" I croak. He laughs, pulling away from our hug and running his thumb over my lips. "Really."

I snake my arms around his neck and kiss him with feeling, trying to communicate through my lips how badly I want him. He tastes like soda and mint, a taste I never want to forget. When I finally pull away, I’m dizzy, my chest heaving for air. "Does the ground normally spin like that?" I laugh. Chris leans his head back and smiles, “You're unreal,” he laughs. I bite my lip, unsure if that's his form of a compliment.

“Y/N.” Chris says the way my name falls off his lips is like honey, “Yeah?”

“I thought you were going to tell me you had an S.T.D. And that was the reason you wouldn’t sleep with me.”

My jaw falls slack into a shocked smile. “What the fuck Chris!” I shout crossing my arms but failing to keep myself from laughing.

He smiles widely, “I mean! —you don’t want to have sex! Like ever!” He remarks.

I can’t stop the bubbling laughter that falls from my mouth. “You’re so stupid.” I giggle, pressing another kiss to his lips. I feel intoxicated off him in the best way possible.He pulls away in the slightest, allowing himself to speak, “Do I get to have sex with my girlfriend now?” He mumbles against me. I can feel his smirk pressed to my lips. “Girlfriend?” I question the word feeling otherworldly. “Unless you want to stay casual.” He jeers, I grumble at his words. “That’s not funny.” I huff jabbing his shoulder with my index finger.

“I know ma’, I’m not funny.”

A silence falls upon us though it's not awkward in any way. I can feel him taking me in as I did him. “Y/N?” He says softly I feel the beat of his voice against my head. I hum in response, feeling his hair tickle my neck, “I’m in love with you too.” He says, his voice gravelly. I didn’t expect those words from him. Not after the countless times he’d told me love is cringey.

A smile creeps out my face, my head feels fuzzy in the best possible way, and I pull him in for another kiss making sure to savor his taste. He moves his tongue in sync with mine in a way of telling me this is real.

I’m not dreaming and he’s all mine.

My chest heaves against his and we pull away slowly. I smile up at him seeing the way the rain drips down his face. The way his sweats are drenched and his green shirt is nearly see-through. I brush his hair out of his eyes with my thumbs and take a breath. “We have to get out of the rain,” I groan.

Chris pauses for a second before licking his top lip. “In a second.” He mumbles, pressing his lips to mine.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

[around1302]

VIII. JEALOUS pt. 2

SPARE PARTS: a series (8/20)

COLOGNE, GERMANY

(W) strong language, oral/fingering, a lil grinding, protected sex, teensy bit of choking, edging

HARRY’S POV

I a-tune my movements to the sounds of Charlie’s moans, playing to each gasp and whine as if they’re apart of a new song I’m composing.

She’s laid on the bed, body soaking the sheets below us in more ways than one, writhing between me and the linen as I work my tongue on her clit. My hands grip everywhere they can – her thighs, her stomach, her tits. God, her tits. And I try not to buck into the mattress each time she tugs on my now loose hair like that.

“Harry, shit,” I suck her clit, shifting so I can insert a finger in her. I want need her to cum at least once before I fuck her, because I know full well once I enter her sweet fucking cunt I’m not lasting long.

“Harry.”

Jesus, when she says my name. I look up through my lashes, watching her watch me. Her bottom lips between her teeth, muffling her cute little pants since Amelia’s God awful music is still blasting from next door.

In a (probably fucked up) way, I want them to hear. I know she wants this to be a secret, but God, how much I’d kill to just see their faces. So I reach up and pull her lip out from her teeth, letting my hand slide down to her throat and squeeze momentarily to let out those symphonic moans she was holding in.

BANG BANG BANG.

I stop, both of our heads whipping toward the door. I’m gasping for air, unaware I couldn’t breathe, as we realise the music’s stopped.

“Shit,” Charlie scrambles to sit up, pulling the sheet over her body. I ache to yank it back from her, but instead I’m sitting up too and jolting when someone pounds at the door again, “it’s them. They definitely heard. Oh, God.”

“Ssh,” I grip Charlie’s thigh over the thin sheet, trying to hear out for who it is.

“Harry? You in there?”

I glance at Charlie, feeling my erection only harden at the sight of her – still slightly damp from the shower, curls mussed and lips swollen. She looks so pretty like this.

I slip my hand under the sheets, toying with the prospect of getting closer. She glares at me, but I watch her mouth start to hang as I run my fingers down her slit.

Niall shouts again, “Charlie’s fuckin’ ignoring us too. Open up you asshole.”

I re-insert my index in her, pressing my finger to my lips to shush her as she gasps.

“What are you doing? They’re right outside.”

“Do you want me to stop?” I add my middle finger.

She arches. “No.”

I tug the sheet away from her, sliding her legs apart and settling between them again.

“I’m busy!” I shout back to Niall, kissing and biting her thighs as I finger her slowly. She whimpers, gripping the pillow as her head falls back and hits the top of the bed frame.

“Told you he had a girl round,” Amelia hisses, the sound travelling under the door.

Charlie clamps her own mouth as I speed up and add my tongue into the mix, wanting to edge some noise from her.

“Fine,” Niall shouts again, “but we’re going. Can you tell Charlie? She’s not answering.”

“I’ll let her know,” I surface for a second before sucking her clit; a choked moan leaving her throat. She quickly slaps her palm over her mouth, looking at me with wide eyes. I smile against her pussy, she can be so fucking funny sometimes.

I hear mumbles and whispers, and then the sound of footsteps before the ding of the elevator.

Charlie cries out.

“You dickhead,” she pants, one of her hands flying to my hair. Her fingers sink into my curls, tugging and gripping as I feel her clenching around my fingers.

“Feels like princess gets turned on by a little danger,” I replace my tongue with my thumb, sucking a hickey into her inner thigh before leaning back to watch her cum around my hand.

I don’t know how I finally managed it – but I’m so fucking glad she kissed me that night. I knew I wanted her, but fuck. I didn’t realise how badly I’d crave making her orgasm every second of every hour until we were in that damn plane and she said my name like that for the first time.

No anger, no resentment, no exhaustion. Just the way I want my name to be said for the rest of my life.

“Oh, my God,” she breathes, pulling me away from her dripping cunt. I sit up, immediately pressing my lips to hers as I pull her thighs to slide her beneath me. She gasps into my mouth, pulling my closer by the nape of my neck as we feverishly explore each other’s mouths.

She reaches between us, grabbing my cock and pulling it against her. I moan into her mouth, gripping the pillows beside her head as she rubs me against her clit.

“Charlie, careful,” I glance at her grinding my sensitive tip against her pussy, the sight alone not helping me. I squeeze my eyes shut, burying my head into her neck and kissing out my groans so I don’t embarrass myself.

“Relax,” she whispers, tightening her legs around my back, “I have the implant.”

Those four words just became my religion.

I nearly laugh onto her skin, but any amusement quickly shifts into something else as I feel her guide me into herself.

Heaven. Sweet, blissful, incredible fucking Heaven is the feel of Charlie around me.

I lift my head, reeling off the feel of her nails digging into my hips as I take the reigns and slowly push in till I can’t anymore. I gasp, taking a second to distract myself.

“Harry, move.”

“Give me a second,” I whisper. She giggles. “You think that’s funny?”

She bites her smile back, and I have to fight my own. I reach one hand down, digging my fingers into the velvet of her skin as I pull her leg further up and start to slowly thrust.

“I’ll show you fuckin’ funny,” I bite her bottom lip, kissing her (because have you kissed this girl?) while I speed up my movements.

I sit up on my knees, spreading her legs so I can snap my hips against her thighs. She throws her head back into the pillow, her nails scraping red roads down my chest as I lift her legs and hook her ankles over my shoulder. She’s so fucking wet and so fucking tight, but I feel like I have something to prove now. So I fuck her, hard.

She tilts her head, muffling her cries in the fresh quilt so I can barely hear how I’m affecting her. I lean down, gripping her throat and turning her head back so she’s forced to look up at me.

“Let me hear you,” I dig my fingers into her neck, basking in the way her puffy lips hang open and the moans spill out from her, “you sound so pretty.”

I reach down with my thumb, swiping over her clit a few times before she’s suddenly unhooking her legs and turning us over.

I fall against the mattress, breathless, still inside Charlie while she’s suddenly on top of me.

“Sit up.”

I do as I’m told, moving up the bed while gripping her waist to keep her there. She holds on to the headboard behind me, starting to roll her hips against mine. I sigh, tilting my head back and to the side so I can kiss her pulse point.

“Look at me,” she demands, and I have to say that whatever flicker of dominance she’s switched on is turning me the fuck on.

So I look at her, and fuck is Charlie Greene riding me something that should be hung in the Louvre. My heavy eyes laser in on her hips, her torso, her face. The way her tattoos move with her, the way her hair flips to the side as she throws her head back and calls out my name. My name. The way her tits are just… fuck, my God.

I sit forward, wrapping my arms around her back and forcing her arms to drap around mine as I take her nipple into my mouth, dragging each one between my teeth before sucking and biting to mark the smooth flesh that surrounds them.

The room is a filthy soundboard of our groans and moans, of skin against skin, of desperation riding need. I move her against me, now, tightening my hold around her to take control. I feel her thighs loosen around me as she lets me, and as much as I know I’m close, I’m itching to watch her cum again.

Keeping one arm wrapped around her, gliding her against me, I rub her clit with my other and start to feel that familiar clench; this time around my cock, making it so much harder for me to–

“Why’d you stop?”

I swipe my thumb over her clit once, making her jolt.

“You close?”

“I mean, I was–”

“Good,” I nip at her collarbone, starting to grind her against me again, “tell me when you get close again.”

“Why? You’re so… okay,” she caves, her head falling to my shoulder as I rub her clit and move her on my cock. She kisses my skin, every inch she can reach with her lips, tracing her nails over the parts she can’t. Her touch drives me fucking crazy.

“I’m close, shit, Harry, I’m so close. Don’t stop.”

So what do I do?

She groans, lifting her head to meet my eye.

“Harry,” she whines, trying to move her hips. Unfortunately for her, I’m stronger than her. “Please.” She whimpers.

I like the sound of that.

“Again.”

“What?” She pants, trying stupidly again to move. I hold her waist in place, flipping us over so she can’t try it again. She huffs, reaching between us to try and rub her own clit – so I grab her wrist.

“I’m not convinced you want to cum.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

I love winding her up.

“Yeah,” I start to pull out, but she grabs my hips, “oh. Do you want to cum?”

“Stop being a cunt, Harry.”

“What was that word you used earlier? I loved that word you used earlier.”

I poke my tongue in my cheek as I watch the cogs starting to turn. She moves her hands to the nape of my neck, her fingers raking a path through my hair, making me want to kiss her.

“Please.” She barely whispers.

“What was that?” I start to thrust my hips again, painfully slowly. I lift her thighs around me, trailing one hand up to the sheets next to her and the other back to her clit.

She gasps, those brown eyes never leaving mine.

“Please.” She’s a little louder this time.

“Come on, princess. I know you can do better than that.”

I rub her clit, making her arch.

“Please.”

“That’s better,” I hardly finish my sentence before I’m kissing her and fucking her into the mattress. We moan into one another’s mouths, the kiss quickly becoming sloppy and at this point just our lips acting as a tunnel for our groans, but I don’t care.

I’m so fucking close, so I speed up my hand until I feel her clench and then I release. I try and keep up my movements as much as I can as I cum, but it’s hard because shit. I bury my head into her neck, using her skin to muffle my cries as I grip the sheets and her till my knuckles painfully blanch.

I feel her cunt pulsing around me, only making the mind-numbing, static technicolour burst in my gut harder. Charlie moans into my ear, her nails digging into my back till I’m sure she draws blood, but I don’t give a shit. She could stab me right now and I don’t think it would puncture my ecstasy.

I stay in her for as long as possible, till I’m rolling over and collapsing onto my back. We both lay there, staring at the hotel ceiling, our breathless pants filling the suddenly silent room. I don’t remember it being this dark, or quiet, or small.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

It takes me a second to recover my vision before I realise I need to clean Charlie up, so I grip the edge of the mattress and pull myself to my feet. I find some boxers from my messily unpacked suitcase and walk into them as I find my way back to the bathroom.

I’m greeted with a shower I’ll never be able to use the same again.

I find a fresh towel, dampening it as dreary clarity starts to make its way back to me and I realise in a few minutes Charlie will leave and I’ll be here. In the bed. Alone. Dark, quiet, small.

When I return to the room, she’s still on her back, one forearm across her forehead and the other on her stomach. I try not to stare at the curve of her knee or the sharpness of her elbow as I ease myself beside her, making her jump.

“Just cleaning you up,” I explain, holding up the towel. She nods, resting her head back onto the pillow. She looks… distant. Worn out, but not quite here. I frown a little as I study her face, mouth opening to ask what’s wrong but not quite knowing if that was in the fine print of our agreement.

Gently as I can, I clean her up. Quietly apologising every time she twitches. I take the towel back to the bathroom and pick up her clothes on the way back, laying them out on the bed.

“Suppose I should go, now.”

You don’t have to.

“Yeah.”

I pretend not to notice how glassy her eyes are as she sits up and starts to dress. I turn away, pretending to be busy in the bathroom. I flick the light on and close the door to give her some privacy, and can’t help but stare at my new appearance in the mirror.

Marks and bruises and scratches litter the gaps between my tattoos, from her. My hair, a knotty mess where her fingers tugged and brushed. My lips swollen with the ghost of hers and the taste of her still fresh on the tip of my tongue. As I look in the mirror, I don’t see me. She’s everywhere. She’s–

I jump at the sudden slam of the door, my heart dropping as my first thought is someone somehow got in. I rip the bathroom door open, the whoosh of it spreading a cold shiver down my torso as I realise no one came in.

She left.

taglist: @lilfreakjez @be-with-me-so-happily @sirtommyholland @tpwksm @b-reads-things

[singlequantumevent]

Dogtown: Part One

Content Warnings | Next Chapter

There’s this place up in Massachusetts called Dog Town. It was home to a group of widows, sailors’ wives, witches (if you believed the rumors), and the dogs they kept for safety. They say that after the inhabitants died, the dogs left behind became feral, ghosts, or werewolf-like beings that stalked the town.

I don’t know how much of that is true. But with my life being what it is? It wouldn’t surprise me if it were.

I.

“Hey, little lady. How’re you?”

The dog in the kennel wagged her tail fiercely. She had been in that kennel for about five months now. This didn't surprise Bo; the dog, Daisy, was a Pit Bull mix. Not full Pit Bull (there was probably some kind of retriever in her), but she looked just enough like one to scare off potential adopters. It was a shame. Daisy was one of the sweetest dogs in the shelter. She barked the least, too.

“Look, Daisy, I know you’re happy to see me, but I need to replace your blankets. Can you let me in?” After a few more seconds of tail-wagging, Daisy backed away from the door. “Thank you.”

Bo stepped inside. Almost immediately, Daisy jumped up like she was trying to climb into his lap. “Whoa, hey, big girl.” He knew he had ten other kennels to clean, but Bo couldn’t resist kneeling down to give Daisy some attention. “I’m glad to see you too, sweetheart.”

It really did suck that she was still there. Bo would adopt Daisy if he could, but his apartment only allowed small dogs. Which was...ironic, all things considered.

If they only knew.

Bo scratched behind Daisy’s ears and smiled. “Okay, big girl. You going to let me take those blankets without turning it into tug-of-war?”

The big, goofy grin on her face said she made no promises.

.

II.

Bo didn’t own a car.

On the one hand, he didn’t see the need to own one. He was within biking distance from his job, he didn’t have to pay for gas or auto insurance, and he didn’t have to deal with Florida’s shitty drivers. On the other hand, it was hotter than the earth’s core most days. He worked up a sweat getting to work, he worked up a sweat at work, and he worked up a sweat on the way back from work. By the time his day was over, he just wanted to lie on the floor and do nothing.

Unfortunately, not everyone was as lazy as he was.

“Not tonight, Ginge, I have to work tomorrow.” Bo rubbed his eyes. “Sunday. I have Sunday off. Yes, the whole day. Uh-huh…okay…” He scratched furiously at his scalp, mussing up already sweat-slicked dark hair. “I can do Saturday night, too. Should be good beach weather. It’s too damn hot for anywhere without water.” He listened to the voice on the other end and laughed. “Yeah, skinny dipping. Of course. I’ll see you then. ‘Bye, Ginger.”

Once he hung up, Bo sank back to the floor. The linoleum tiles were cool from the past fifteen minutes of concentrated air conditioning. They felt blessedly cold against his skin. “This year,” he said to himself. “This year, I’m getting a car.”

Not likely. He said the same thing every year, and it hadn’t happened yet.

.

III.

There were a lot of strays in the area. Most of them were cats. You saw them everywhere: lounging under cars at the Wal-Mart, perched on walls, watching with distrustful eyes. Cat gangs, Bo always thought when he saw them. He didn’t trust them.

Every now and again, though, he would see a stray dog. As a proud employee of the local Humane Society branch, Bo felt it was his civic duty to pursue these animals before they got hurt. This was easier said than done. He might’ve trusted the dogs more than he trusted the cats, but damn if the dogs didn’t make things difficult.

“C’mon!” he said aloud as the dog ducked into someone else’s yard. “Work with me, here!”

The dog was not working with him. In fact, she seemed very intent on working against him as much as possible. Bo couldn’t blame the dog for that. There was always a chance that the stray in question had been hurt by humans. She had no way of knowing she wasn't going to hurt him.

If it weren’t the middle of the day and if I were closer to home…

Bo shook his head. No sense in thinking about it. After all, there was no guarantee that Plan D would work any better. All he could do was keep chasing the dog and hope he didn’t get yelled at for being on someone else’s property.

“Hey…” Bo advanced warily into the yard. “Look, buddy, I’m trying to help.”

The dog's ears perked up at the sound of his voice, but she didn’t run. Good. Please, no more running. “That’s it…c’mon…” He kept moving forward, very slowly, trying not to make any sudden movements. “Steady, girl…”

He and the dog locked eyes. He could feel her sizing him up, smelling him, trying to decide if he was friend or foe. He willed her to come closer with everything he had in him. Please, please, please…

She considered his pleas. Then, she took off.

Oh, come on!

Bo took off after her, but he knew it was a lost cause. The dog was much faster than he was. She was out of sight within seconds.

He wasn’t sure what was worse—the fact that he had lost the dog, or the fact that he was probably going to be late for work now.

I swear to God, if some punkass bastard stole my bike…

.

IV:

No one had stolen his bike, and he made it to work on time.Bo’s supervisor for the day took one look at his beet-red face and let him take a few minutes to sit down. “What the hell happened to you?” he asked as he passed Bo a water bottle.

“Almost late.” Bo slurped noisily from the water bottle, not caring how much ran down his chin and neck. It felt good. “I was trying to catch a stray.”

The supervisor didn’t look phased by this. Trying to catch strays was one of Bo’s unofficial duties at the shelter. “You can bike a bit more slowly next time,” he said. “I mean, what’s the point in being on time if you collapse from heat exhaustion?”

“Right. Right, I’ll keep that in mind.”

Bo still felt overheated when he got started. He took a second to douse his head with the water hose before using it for its intended purpose: re-filling the dogs’ bowls. “Don’t look at me like that,” he told the dogs as he walked down the row. “I was trying to save one of you. She wouldn’t listen.”

The dogs didn’t care. Most were just happy to get some water.

Daisy was still in her kennel when Bo reached it. He’d expected that, but he was still disappointed. “Hey, Miss Daisy.” She licked his hand when he held it out to her. “Hard day?” Her tail wagged slightly. “Me too, girl. Me too.”

.

V:

Then came the weekend.

Bo considered bailing several times Saturday morning. He’d had a long week, and the idea of spending the evening playing video games in air-conditioned splendor sounded heavenly. But he’d said he would show, and it had been a while since he’d seen his friends. Anyway, arrangements had already been made for Fred to give him a ride. Fred did not take no for an answer.

“You smell like shit." Fred was also very intrusive about people’s personal hygiene, though what counted as smelling bad for him was a bit different than it was for normal people. “Did you take a bath of straight Old Spice or something?”

“Would you rather I smell like kennel?” Bo shot back.

“Over whatever that is, yeah.” Fred’s tone was as blunt as his features—slight underbite, nose with a broken look to it, hair cropped short. “We’re driving with the windows down.”

“Whatever, man.”

They made the drive to the beach in silence, save for the sound of the air rushing by and the occasionally labored sound of Fred’s breathing. He sounded like that sometimes—rough and snuffly, as though he were perpetually congested. Bo tried not to worry about it. Fred always insisted he was fine. Then again, you could set Fred on fire and his only response would be a mildly annoyed sigh. He wasn’t one for complaining. Bo admired that.

When they arrived at the beach, it was getting close to off-hours. Technically, they weren’t supposed to be there, but Ginger knew a guy. Ginger was an I know a guy kind of gal. Three cars were waiting in the parking lot when they arrived. There was an older car that, while sporty-looking, had clearly seen better days; a pickup truck with a perpetual forest smell to it; and, finally, a bright yellow VW bug. He recognized their owners as well—Artemis, Ginger, and Dot. Also with them was Olaf. He must’ve hitched a ride with Ginger. His car had been on the fritz lately.

“Gang’s all here,” said Bo as he got out of the car. “Hey, G—oof!”

And there, as usual, was one of Ginger’s overly enthusiastic hugs. She actually managed to pick him up a bit. “You work too much,” she told Bo as she put him back down.

“Good to see you, too.” Just as Bo was starting to recover from Ginger’s hug, he was picked up again, this time by Olaf. “Whoa, hey, big guy!”

“Try that on me, and I’ll bite you,” Fred grumbled.

“Oh my gosh, don’t be such a baby,” said Dot. She lightly punched Fred’s arm. “We missed you, too.”

Fred grunted. If you knew where to look, you could see the smile forming on his face.

Artemis’s hug was much gentler. “I’m glad you could make it,” she said. “We all really missed you.”

“I missed you guys, too.” And he had. He really had. “Is the beach all clear?”

“Just about,” said Ginger. “Only a few stragglers left.”

Those few stragglers took about twenty minutes to leave. The pack spent that time passing around a bottle of beer and chatting. Bo updated them on the shelter situation, who had come, who was gone, who remained. There was a collective groan of disappointment when he mentioned that Daisy was still there. “So, that aside,” said Fred as he tossed the bottle into a nearby recycling bin, “anything interesting?”

“Well…I failed to catch a dog?”

The rest of the pack looked at him with similar startled expressions. “You?” said Dot skeptically. “The premiere dog catcher in the area?”

Olaf giggled at her choice of emphasis. Bo rolled his eyes. “I have my off days too, you know.”

“Did you try…?”

“I was in the middle of someone else’s neighborhood. I couldn’t.”

“Boo.”

“I’ll find her eventually,” Bo said. I hope.

The last of the stragglers walked by. The second they were in their car, the pack made a break for the beach. “Finally!” whooped Olaf, who somehow managed to take off his shoes while he ran. “I thought they’d never—hot sand! Hot sand!”

Bo laughed, though he immediately felt bad for it. “Easy, big guy.” He glanced over his shoulder one more time before starting to take off his shirt. “Don’t kill yourself.”

The rest of his clothes came off, deposited in a heap in the sand. His skin felt too tight. It came off next, deposited in the sand on top of his clothes.

The sand was hot against his paws, so he ran to the ocean. Ginger followed, her golden fur shining in the setting sun. Dot overtook both of them, despite the stubbiness of her legs. Olaf trundled behind, high-stepping to avoid scorching his massive paws, and Artemis followed him, holding back from her usually considerable speed. Finally, at the back, was Fred, trundling along.

They ran through the water, chasing waves and each other until the sun went down. But not even that slowed them down. They didn’t need the sun to see.

Not when they were like this.

[weebinggreat]

Hi everyone! I am going to be strong this time and try my best to at least be part of the community. Not personally but at least to the world that I feel comfortable with.

This is really hard for me since I wasn’t really like this an introvert or avoiding people though I have felt this way ever since I was a kid.

Like I don’t belong or more precisely I need to act nice, follow the rules so I can make friends or get praise by my parents.

It was tough.

So this past year I had to make huge changes for my life and I think it is really pulling out my real personality.

I can say that I used to be out going. I liked partying because it made me feel like even if I was surrounded by many people nobody really knows me and I can just dance my anxiety away unfortunately I can be like this anymore since I got kids now.

Being a parent really put me in a pickle. I love my kids so much and I don’t blame them or anything. This. Whatever is going on with myself is my problem not theirs.

I have my own personal issues that I have difficulties to overcome.

If I would go back to when I was I child, I would say to her to just be herself, stop thinking about what other people say about me because in the end, I am the only person is going to be helping me to be happy.

As a child, I think I had/have two personalities.

One that’s mean, straightforward and don’t give a damn. Hates being in the spotlight and of course hates people around me.

The other one is the people pleaser, who is loud but scared to fail. Sometimes pretends to be someone that I am not. The push over, the yes I’ll do it person.

Yes that’s me. Every time I show kindness and being nice to people around me most of the time my inner me is talking back and sometimes I want her to just get out and be free, I wish I did so I won’t get hurt like I am right now.

When I was a child I hated it when people say I was rude, not nice, disrespectful and disappointed at me. I fear people saying those words at me that’s why I tried so hard to please everyone even though I know I don’t like them.

I think the reason behind this two personalities was also because of that incident. The part of my childhood was destroyed my the horrible people.

I was so scared that if someone ever found out what really happened to me, I’ll get scolded and ridiculed.

I still remember everything they did to me. Taking advantage of my innocent childhood. I blame my parents at some point because they were naive to trust to much our relatives, to let them be around me.

It was horrible growing up. Thinking that I am not pure like the other young girls. Like I was a trash and worthless.

Having nightmares and regrets for what I let them do to me. It was very sad and scary.

I wish I had someone to run to about it, I think that is why I am relief that I don’t have any daughters because I don’t want them to experience what I felt but of course this doesn’t happen to just girls, so I am worried about my boys that what if someone takes advantage of their innocent souls and destroy them like I am.

Anyway, my thoughts is going everywhere and it’s not really what I wanted to blog out but it does help me feel better.

So back to my current situation right now. I moved to another state a year ago and it’s really hard for me. I feel like I never made real friends since I got here.

I don’t know if it’s just because I withdraw myself from the society and decided to just live my life alone or is it more?

I feel alone yet not lonely. I like my own company and the time I have for myself. I love reading my mangas, novels and watching animé but sometimes it get so toxic to the point I feel like I don’t have a life.

It’s depressing. If it weren’t for my job or the bills that I worry about my life will be soulless. If it wasn’t for my children I won’t have any purpose in life.

It sucks because being a single mother is really hard. Yes. I am a single mom of two lovely boys. I left my husband because it was toxic and I will definitely not be here typing this blog if I was still with him. Id be much more worst. That’s another blog for me to share.

But as days goes by being by myself sometimes it’s just really hard than usual. Even when everything is fine.

I am running out of words but I feel a little better.

[mcflythrills78]

fuckyeahfavouritethings:

THE McFLY BOYS ARE BACK, BUT A LOT’S CHANGED IN THE LAST FEW YEARS. THREE OF THE LADS ARE SETTLED DOWN BUT FANS NEEDN’T DESPAIR – DOUGIE IS LOOKING FOR LOVE..

On growing up, love and getting ready to pop the question..

McFly might have been teenagers when they burst into the spotlight back in 2003, but make no mistake – they’re all man now! Each in their 20s with great bodies and designer stubble, the foursome – Dougie Poynter, Harry Judd, Tom Fletcher and Danny Jones – have put their teeny-bopper image behind them.

“Oh yeah, we’re definitely feeling a little grown up,” laughs the band’s frontman Tom, 25. “I was looking over old pictures recently and it’s only now we realise how young we were when we started. It’s flown by.”

The most settled of the group, Tom says he’ll be ready to propose to girlfriend of seven years Giovanna Falcone before long. “I think I’ll have to!” he says. “I think she’ll leave me if I don’t. I’m 26 soon so I think we’re getting to the right age.”

But relax ladies, the other guys aren’t quite there yet. Drummer Harry and Danny, 25, have steady girlfriends but have no plans to wed for now.

“Not yet,” smiles Harry, 26, who lives with girlfriend Izzy Johnston, who plays the violin in Britain’s Got Talent string quartet Escala. “She’s beautiful and talented, and I definitely want to get married one day.”

And while guitarist Danny also lives with his girlfriend, former Miss England Georgia Horsley, he says it’ll be a while yet.

“When we first met she thought I was a d******* popstar, which I suppose I am!” he laughs. “And I had been out with a Miss England before so I thought it might be a bit random to go out with two – it wasn’t planned, obviously!

“It’s all good now though and it’s serious. But I don’t think I’m quite at the putting-a-ring-on-her finger stage. Maybe in a couple of years.”

Now that he’s so settled, does charmer Danny miss making the most of all the female attention?

“Well, I have no regrets, put it like that!” he laughs.

“It was totally awesome. I made the most of it, but why wouldn’t I?

“Girls still ask me out and I’m like ‘No, I’ve got a girlfriend’.

“I’ve done my bit for the boys and it was great while it lasted, but I’m well and truly over that now.”

On heartache, footballers and moving on..

While the other lads are loved-up and settled, ­­23-year-old Dougie is still struggling to get over a broken heart. His ex-girlfriend and star of The Saturdays, Frankie Sandford, 22, ended their relationship in November for the second time in less than a year, and the split is still taking its toll on bassist Dougie.

“It’s c**p, but what makes it worse is getting constant reminders,” he says. “When it’s a regular person it’s bad enough because you hear their name once in a while, or your mutual friends see them. But I see her bloody everywhere! In magazines, on the TV, on the radio. It’s horrible! It’s worse when you’re a bit hungover though, which I am today, that really sucks. You just feel a bit tired and extra miserable, don’t you?”

Seeing her pictured on the arm of Manchester City star Wayne Bridge can’t have helped. “Oh yes, seeing her arm in arm with a footballer is amazing!” laughs Dougie. “I just love that, it’s ace. I don’t know if she’ll regret all this, we’re not in touch anymore so who knows? What she does is up to her. But one thing I do know is that we’ll never, ever get back together.”

Don’t get too excited though girls, Dougie’s not quite ready to run into the arms of another woman. “Not at the moment,” he laughs. “I’m taking a few months out! I think I need a dog to make me feel better.

“I’ll get my dog, and I’ll be OK.”

On good mates, bust ups, and why Harry’s at the centre of every argument..

As Dougie leans on his three best mates to help him through his heartache, even moving in with Tom and his girlfriend temporarily, the lads are open about the fact they’re more like brothers than friends.

“I’m the least sociable person ever,” laughs Tom. “I’m just a bit awkward, but people think I’m rude. Obviously I’ve got three best mates in the guys, but they’re it for me really.”

What happens when they fall out? “Well Harry seems to start them all.” laughs Danny. “I think we’ve all punched him. I hit him after he put a cigarette out in my beer. I just swung for him and called him an idiot. He smacked me back, but we were fine an hour later.”

“Yeah I punched Harry too.” says Dougie. “I was trying to stop smoking so I was quite agitated. Then he kept winding me up and trying to get me to smoke. I only clipped him really – it could have been harder!”

Surely Harry won’t take this lying down? “Oh really? Did Dougie happen to mention that he cried after he punched me? Because he did. He rang me and cried because he felt so bad. It was a pathetic punch anyway, he’s not that hard. OK, maybe I do wind them up, especially Dougie. But he’s so easy to annoy!”

On pizzas, diets and the pressure to look good..

Men in the music industry tend to get an easier time of it than women when it comes to the pressure to look good. But when, like McFly, they’ve got thousands of screaming girls begging them to take their tops off at every gig they play, a certain amount is inevitable.

Lead singer Tom felt it so much he virtually starved himself for a year to slim down to a size he felt happy at. “At my heaviest I was about 13st 7lbs,” he says.

“When we moved into the band house at the beginning of it all I literally ate crap for two years. Pizzas every night, and not normal pizza – massive, disgusting, cheesy pizzas. I’m not exaggerating. Pizza at night and a fry up every morning with a can of Coke. No wonder I was a bit fat!”

So in a typical young man’s approach, when he thought things had gone too far, Tom simply stopped eating. “That was my amazing diet plan,” he laughs.

“I just didn’t eat anything. I’d have coffee for breakfast then maybe a muffin in the afternoon. That was it. It was a dramatic, rubbish man’s diet! Luckily once I’d lost about three stone I realised it was stupid and started eating again.”

Tom says the pressure to lose weight came from himself. “I hated seeing myself on TV,” he recalls.“I was in the band with these skinny b*****s who could eat whatever they wanted and not put on any weight. I was the fat one, and I just didn’t want to be the fat one anymore. That’s it.”

On their maddest fans..

One of the best bits about being in a boyband must be the adoring fans, right? “There are some mad ones,” says Harry. “But we prefer the word passionate.” So who’s been the most ‘passionate’ then? Danny says: “Some come up and ask you to sign their arm and come back the next time to show you they tattooed your autograph on to their skin! It’s bizarre – and I have a rubbish autograph.” But surprisingly, they haven’t been the worst.

“The weirdest one was this guy who gave me a massive hug when we got off the bus one time,” laughs Danny. “He totally grabbed my sides and squeezed really tight. I thought OK, bit weird, but fine. Then as we headed off, waving goodbye to everyone, we noticed as he stood waving with a big grin on his face he had the biggest erection ever sticking out of his tracky bottoms. We just screamed ‘Nooooooo!!’ It was so awful.”

On disappearing, growing gills and being Cheryl Cole’s chair..

So to go with the theme of our superhero-inspired shoot, what superpower would the guys like to have? “Oh that’s interesting,” laughs Danny. “I would be able to change into anything. Like Ashley Cole. Oh no, he’s not with Cheryl anymore is he? OK, I’d be able to change into whoever is going out with Cheryl Cole at any point in time. No, I’d be Cheryl Cole’s chair on X Factor! Or maybe her hairbrush?”

Has anyone got anything less pervy? “The ability to see everyone naked,” grins Dougie. Maybe not. “Oh God, then you’d see loads of ugly people naked! No I want to change my mind. I’d like gills please. I’m not a massive swimming fan, but I’d probably like it better if I had gills.” Random, but OK. Can Harry do any better? “I’d be invisible, so I could spy on people,” he says. “I’d walk into the Arsenal dressing room or the England rugby team changing room to hear what they talk about before a game. That would be wicked.”

Tom is bound to have a sensible answer. “I’d be able to travel through time,” he says.

“I’d go see the dinosaurs and maybe visit important moments in history. I wouldn’t change anything in our career though, just in case it messed everything up. Because even the stuff that went wrong has meant we’ve ended up here, in a very good place.” That’s more like it Tom!

fuckyeahfavouritethings:

THE McFLY BOYS ARE BACK, BUT A LOT’S CHANGED IN THE LAST FEW YEARS. THREE OF THE LADS ARE SETTLED DOWN BUT FANS NEEDN’T DESPAIR – DOUGIE IS LOOKING FOR LOVE..

On growing up, love and getting ready to pop the question..

McFly might have been teenagers when they burst into the spotlight back in 2003, but make no mistake – they’re all man now! Each in their 20s with great bodies and designer stubble, the foursome – Dougie Poynter, Harry Judd, Tom Fletcher and Danny Jones – have put their teeny-bopper image behind them.

“Oh yeah, we’re definitely feeling a little grown up,” laughs the band’s frontman Tom, 25. “I was looking over old pictures recently and it’s only now we realise how young we were when we started. It’s flown by.”

The most settled of the group, Tom says he’ll be ready to propose to girlfriend of seven years Giovanna Falcone before long. “I think I’ll have to!” he says. “I think she’ll leave me if I don’t. I’m 26 soon so I think we’re getting to the right age.”

But relax ladies, the other guys aren’t quite there yet. Drummer Harry and Danny, 25, have steady girlfriends but have no plans to wed for now.

“Not yet,” smiles Harry, 26, who lives with girlfriend Izzy Johnston, who plays the violin in Britain’s Got Talent string quartet Escala. “She’s beautiful and talented, and I definitely want to get married one day.”

And while guitarist Danny also lives with his girlfriend, former Miss England Georgia Horsley, he says it’ll be a while yet.

“When we first met she thought I was a d******* popstar, which I suppose I am!” he laughs. “And I had been out with a Miss England before so I thought it might be a bit random to go out with two – it wasn’t planned, obviously!

“It’s all good now though and it’s serious. But I don’t think I’m quite at the putting-a-ring-on-her finger stage. Maybe in a couple of years.”

Now that he’s so settled, does charmer Danny miss making the most of all the female attention?

“Well, I have no regrets, put it like that!” he laughs.

“It was totally awesome. I made the most of it, but why wouldn’t I?

“Girls still ask me out and I’m like ‘No, I’ve got a girlfriend’.

“I’ve done my bit for the boys and it was great while it lasted, but I’m well and truly over that now.”

On heartache, footballers and moving on..

While the other lads are loved-up and settled, ­­23-year-old Dougie is still struggling to get over a broken heart. His ex-girlfriend and star of The Saturdays, Frankie Sandford, 22, ended their relationship in November for the second time in less than a year, and the split is still taking its toll on bassist Dougie.

“It’s c**p, but what makes it worse is getting constant reminders,” he says. “When it’s a regular person it’s bad enough because you hear their name once in a while, or your mutual friends see them. But I see her bloody everywhere! In magazines, on the TV, on the radio. It’s horrible! It’s worse when you’re a bit hungover though, which I am today, that really sucks. You just feel a bit tired and extra miserable, don’t you?”

Seeing her pictured on the arm of Manchester City star Wayne Bridge can’t have helped. “Oh yes, seeing her arm in arm with a footballer is amazing!” laughs Dougie. “I just love that, it’s ace. I don’t know if she’ll regret all this, we’re not in touch anymore so who knows? What she does is up to her. But one thing I do know is that we’ll never, ever get back together.”

Don’t get too excited though girls, Dougie’s not quite ready to run into the arms of another woman. “Not at the moment,” he laughs. “I’m taking a few months out! I think I need a dog to make me feel better.

“I’ll get my dog, and I’ll be OK.”

On good mates, bust ups, and why Harry’s at the centre of every argument..

As Dougie leans on his three best mates to help him through his heartache, even moving in with Tom and his girlfriend temporarily, the lads are open about the fact they’re more like brothers than friends.

“I’m the least sociable person ever,” laughs Tom. “I’m just a bit awkward, but people think I’m rude. Obviously I’ve got three best mates in the guys, but they’re it for me really.”

What happens when they fall out? “Well Harry seems to start them all.” laughs Danny. “I think we’ve all punched him. I hit him after he put a cigarette out in my beer. I just swung for him and called him an idiot. He smacked me back, but we were fine an hour later.”

“Yeah I punched Harry too.” says Dougie. “I was trying to stop smoking so I was quite agitated. Then he kept winding me up and trying to get me to smoke. I only clipped him really – it could have been harder!”

Surely Harry won’t take this lying down? “Oh really? Did Dougie happen to mention that he cried after he punched me? Because he did. He rang me and cried because he felt so bad. It was a pathetic punch anyway, he’s not that hard. OK, maybe I do wind them up, especially Dougie. But he’s so easy to annoy!”

On pizzas, diets and the pressure to look good..

Men in the music industry tend to get an easier time of it than women when it comes to the pressure to look good. But when, like McFly, they’ve got thousands of screaming girls begging them to take their tops off at every gig they play, a certain amount is inevitable.

Lead singer Tom felt it so much he virtually starved himself for a year to slim down to a size he felt happy at. “At my heaviest I was about 13st 7lbs,” he says.

“When we moved into the band house at the beginning of it all I literally ate crap for two years. Pizzas every night, and not normal pizza – massive, disgusting, cheesy pizzas. I’m not exaggerating. Pizza at night and a fry up every morning with a can of Coke. No wonder I was a bit fat!”

So in a typical young man’s approach, when he thought things had gone too far, Tom simply stopped eating. “That was my amazing diet plan,” he laughs.

“I just didn’t eat anything. I’d have coffee for breakfast then maybe a muffin in the afternoon. That was it. It was a dramatic, rubbish man’s diet! Luckily once I’d lost about three stone I realised it was stupid and started eating again.”

Tom says the pressure to lose weight came from himself. “I hated seeing myself on TV,” he recalls.“I was in the band with these skinny b*****s who could eat whatever they wanted and not put on any weight. I was the fat one, and I just didn’t want to be the fat one anymore. That’s it.”

On their maddest fans..

One of the best bits about being in a boyband must be the adoring fans, right? “There are some mad ones,” says Harry. “But we prefer the word passionate.” So who’s been the most ‘passionate’ then? Danny says: “Some come up and ask you to sign their arm and come back the next time to show you they tattooed your autograph on to their skin! It’s bizarre – and I have a rubbish autograph.” But surprisingly, they haven’t been the worst.

“The weirdest one was this guy who gave me a massive hug when we got off the bus one time,” laughs Danny. “He totally grabbed my sides and squeezed really tight. I thought OK, bit weird, but fine. Then as we headed off, waving goodbye to everyone, we noticed as he stood waving with a big grin on his face he had the biggest erection ever sticking out of his tracky bottoms. We just screamed ‘Nooooooo!!’ It was so awful.”

On disappearing, growing gills and being Cheryl Cole’s chair..

So to go with the theme of our superhero-inspired shoot, what superpower would the guys like to have? “Oh that’s interesting,” laughs Danny. “I would be able to change into anything. Like Ashley Cole. Oh no, he’s not with Cheryl anymore is he? OK, I’d be able to change into whoever is going out with Cheryl Cole at any point in time. No, I’d be Cheryl Cole’s chair on X Factor! Or maybe her hairbrush?”

Has anyone got anything less pervy? “The ability to see everyone naked,” grins Dougie. Maybe not. “Oh God, then you’d see loads of ugly people naked! No I want to change my mind. I’d like gills please. I’m not a massive swimming fan, but I’d probably like it better if I had gills.” Random, but OK. Can Harry do any better? “I’d be invisible, so I could spy on people,” he says. “I’d walk into the Arsenal dressing room or the England rugby team changing room to hear what they talk about before a game. That would be wicked.”

Tom is bound to have a sensible answer. “I’d be able to travel through time,” he says.

“I’d go see the dinosaurs and maybe visit important moments in history. I wouldn’t change anything in our career though, just in case it messed everything up. Because even the stuff that went wrong has meant we’ve ended up here, in a very good place.” That’s more like it Tom!

I am so in love with these four boys it's not even funny......

[elysianslove]

— SHOW YOU WHAT IT’S LIKE

in which after admitting to not having orgasmed during your first time with him, he takes it to heart & overstimulates you the next time around.

includes; iwaizumi hajime, miya osamu, suna rintarō

content warning; degradation, overstimulation

IWAIZUMI HAJIME

you’ve never felt like this.

before meeting hajime, and before deciding to give him your virginity, all you knew was your futile hand rubbing harsh circles against your clit, sometimes daring to slip further and dip inside of you. when you’d make yourself cum, it would last a few seconds, your body tensing momentarily as pleasure overwhelms you.

but this? this is different. it’s incredibly different. every inch of your body, nerve and muscle alike, is somehow both tense as ever and as loose as jelly. you’re sprawled out on the bed, face turned into the pillow as your hands fist at it. the cloth is damp from the salty tears that have slipped from your eyes and the drool that drips down from your parted mouth. between your spread legs is your lover, fingers nestled deep inside of you, his arm tensing and muscles bulging with the strain of effort as he fucks his fingers into you at a brutal pace, twisting and curling. his other hand presses down on your hip, keeping you steady and still for him. from minutes before, his lips and chin glisten with the evidence of your arousal, but now, his entire focus is on the rough, hard strokes of his fingers.

a deep groan falls from your lips, twisting and bleeding into a high pitched whine as hajime leans forward, angling his wrist so that his palm presses rubs harsh against your clit. “haji— hajime please!” you pathetically cry. “no more, no more!”

he tilts his head in faux confusion, the obscene squelching of his fingers deepening the twist and drop of your stomach. “isn’t this what you wanted?” he wonders rhetorically, and you sob heart wretchedly, so much so that he almost feels bad for you. but he had a point to prove, still. “don’t you feel good, pretty girl? you look good— like a whore. my pretty whore.” for good measure, he chuckles darkly.

with the increased friction against your clit, and his fingers knuckle deep inside of you, you’re quick to reach your— fuck, how many orgasms has it been? back arching, your legs bend at the knees, reaching to shut close as your body spasms and trembles with the force of your orgasm, but the hand that had been on your hip moves to your inner thigh, and hajime spreads your legs open for him once more.

your lungs feel tight, muscles aching terribly as you sag once more on the bed, seeping into the mattress as hajime’s fingers slow their pace, allowing you to ride your high peacefully, easily meeting the gentle roll of your hips and the shake of your legs— until, gradually, he picks up the pace again, and your fists are tightening around the pillow once more. “hajime— i can’t breathe—” you gasp out, but he only hums in fake consideration.

“that’s too bad,” he tuts, fingers slowing once more and slipping out of your abused cunt. “was just about to make you cum on my cock— but if that isn’t what you’d like—“

you can’t say you blame him for scoffing at how you whine pathetically, your hips rutting up against his in disapproval. “no—“ you barely begin, before his rough hands are pulling at your hips, dragging you along the bed closer to him.

“yeah,” he laughs again, freeing his cock. “that’s what i thought.”

MIYA OSAMU

it feels like hours, hours, since he’d first sat you down like this, and you don’t know much longer you’ll be able to last.

you’re on your lover’s lap, stuffed full of his cock, back pressed flush to his chest and legs spread for him. his hands are everywhere, everywhere, kneading at your stomach and your breasts, pinching and tugging and rolling at your nipples, rubbing harshly at your clit. and his mouth, sinister as ever, kisses hot and wet along your neck and shoulder, whispers the dirtiest things in your ear, keeps you alive and burning for him.

you’re just settling down from your fourth, fifth, maybe sixth orgasm, arousal pooling in his lap and drenching his balls and the couch beneath you. you can feel his cock twitch inside of you with every clench of your cunt and every orgasm he pulls out of you, but his orgasm control is unbelievable, and he refuses to spill inside of you, to fuck you, until he deems you ready. which, technically, you have been for a while now, and you were at least three orgasms ago— but still, he’s yet to stop.

“‘samu, please, please, please fuck me,” you beg helplessly, falling limp in his grasp and throwing your head back.

right by your ear, osamu laughs loudly, and god, you know he’s enjoying this. “sure,” he says, and you sigh, relieved for a moment — “in a bit—“ and it all shatters, your body tensing once more as you let out a whine.

with one hand grasping at your breast tightly, and his lips biting down on your neck, the other hand slithers down to your sensitive, swollen clit, hovering and grazing it lightly. instead of resuming his previous pace, his fingers slither lower to your stretched cunt, fingers brushing against his hardened cock inside of you, lightly teasing as he rubs at your pussy lips. the palm on your breast stops kneading and squeezing, splaying out instead and traveling along your chest, up to your collarbones and right beneath your neck.

“m’sorry for neglecting ya baby,” he whispers, and even though you know it’s genuine, he still sounds as teasing as ever.

you shake your head, just as you feel both his hands travel higher, one finding its way around your neck, wrapping pretty and gentle around your throat, the other pressing down on your clit once more. biting down a squeal and tensing your muscles in order not to jerk your hips, you pant, “s’not your fault, it’s okay, it’s— okay!—” a squeal rips out from your lips unintentionally and you shudder, heaving, “— fuck, please.”

“i’ll never leave ya unsatisfied, pretty baby,” he whispers, fingers picking up their pace on your clit. on his lap, you squirm in his hold, and he grits his teeth as he feels his balls tighten. the feel of you clenching and gushing around him like this is irresistible, but he had meant it when he told you he’ll leave you braindead by tonight. “promise, cross my heart,” he adds, just as your body tenses again and you cum, hips jerking up and body lifting slightly. his hand around your throat tightens, fingers sloppy on your clit as you shake through your orgasm.

yeah, you were braindead, and he hadn’t even fucked you yet.

SUNA RINTARŌ

“rin— rin, rin, rin i’m cumming, fuck—” with urgency and desperation unlike any other, you seek purchase on anything you can find on the bed, gripping it tightly as your back arches deeply and your hips roll, legs spasming uncontrollably behind you. you bury your wet face deeper into the mattress, mouth parted dumbly as your chest heaves and your eyes flutter shut.

“what was that?” suna pants, hands gripping your hips tighter as he fucks into you from behind. “cumming again?” he tuts, gritting his teeth to steel himself and stave off his orgasm, hips slowing. your legs are still shaking as his thrusts come to a stop, and the trembling only gets worse when he falls above you, keeping your ass raised as he leans on the mattress, gripping the sheets tightly to fuck into you again.

god, is it even normal for your legs to nonstop shake like this?

“you gonna cum again?” he teases, and hearing his voice so near you, feeling the heat of his body so close, the scent and feel and sound of him so alluring, makes you shiver, hands gripping the sheets tighter as you whine tightlipped. “so soon?” his thrusts are slower now: he takes his time pulling out and thrusting back in like gentle waves, his strokes easy. yet, somehow, this makes your nerves prickle even worse, because now you can feel all of him, every ridge and every vein, feel him as he slowly stretches you open when he pushes in, as your cunt sucks him in, as it gushes around him.

you’re reduced to a wordless mess at this point, only able to whine and pant and sob and drool for him— like the messy bitch you are, such a dirty whore—

his hands fumble on the sheets momentarily before they find yours, and he intertwines his fingers with yours, palms pressed to the back of your hands. “will you give me some more?” he wonders, hips still thrusting languidly. to say he’s delighted to see you nod stupidly at his request, quickly and with a low, whiny hum would be an understatement.

with his fingers laced with yours, and a deep, amused chuckle, suna pulls out, before thrusting too fast, too deep. your eyes widen and you gasp, back arching deeper, fingers grasping his tighter. all he does is grunt and whisper, “good girl,” at your reaction, and begins his once brutal pace again.

i’ve been wanting to do this for a while now, but i wanted to do it as a full fic with like iwa or something where you approach him and tell you you couldn’t cum and then he promises to make you cum till you can’t breathe but i only had the energy for this instead :)

[sluttyten]

#25, #37 and #181 for Jungwoo or Jaehyun ❤️‍🔥

Jungwoo or Jaehyun + “shit, i forgot just how tight you are.” + meeting them at a house party and sneaking off to fuck them in the bathroom. + you being their best friend’s younger sibling.

When your brother Mark met his best friend, when he moved in with him, you thought for sure you’d cracked it and that your brother was gay and his best friend was his secret boyfriend. They were constantly together--going on trips, going out to dinner, going shopping together--so it wasn’t like it was a crazy leap in logic. But then one night, Mark was out of town, you needed a place to stay, so he told you to go stay at his place. 

Neither you or Jungwoo ever admitted to Mark the truth of that night. How you’d been sitting on the sofa with Jungwoo, venting to him, and when you’d mentioned in an offhand way how he was your brother’s boyfriend (like, obviously), Jungwoo paused and looked at you with the most adorably confused look on his face.

“I’m not his boyfriend. We’re honest to God just friends.” He holds his hand over his heart. “I’m into you, not Mark.”

In the space after those words, your entire worldview rearranged. You looked at Jungwoo, at the way he was looking at you, leaned towards you in comfortable casualness, and you realized that yeah, you could be into him too.

He fucked you right there on that sofa that night, and again in the shower the next morning, and before you left for the day, you made it clear to Jungwoo that sleeping with him meant nothing more than that you found him attractive too. You didn’t want your brother to know, and you didn’t plan to let it happen again. It had been perhaps a lapse in judgement to have sex with your brother’s best friend.

Weeks go by, and then months. You and Jungwoo are perfectly normal around each other, not letting that night interfere in any way. And then Mark throws a housewarming party when he and Jungwoo move out of their cramped apartment and start renting a house together with a few other friends. 

It’s the kind of housewarming that your other family members aren’t invited to. It feels more like a frat party than a housewarming.

There’s people everywhere. All over the lawn, filling every inch of the house you’d just helped your brother move his furniture into. You recognize a few of them as close friends of your brother that you’ve met before, but for the most part, you don’t know these people. You assume many of them are friends of the friends he’s moved in with, but you don’t even know any of those people other than Jungwoo.

So, you do your best to make new friends.

You meet a few lovely people before you finally meet Jaehyun. 

He seems nice, very friendly and handsome. You meet him over a tray of snacks you just know your brother sat out, and you start talking to him, small talk that quickly takes a turn when you both realize a mutual interest. That conversation carries you away from the snacks to standing outside, and once you’ve made it outside, you realize that someone’s set up a game of beer pong.

“Jae!” The guy at one end of the table calls as soon as he spots Jaehyun. “We need someone to play against!”

Jaehyun looks at you. “Want to be my partner?”

You hate the idea of leaving his side, knowing that if you do, some other girl that’s been eyeing him all night would quickly sweep in to try to fill your spot. 

So, it’s possibly one of the best decisions you’ve made yet that night to be his partner for beer pong because you win, and in the joy of victory, Jaehyun sweeps you into a hug and promises you that he owes you a prize. He quickly makes it clear that that prize is a fresh drink that’s not beer with a ball floating in it.

You could care less about getting another drink, but you go along with him as Jaehyun attempts to swim through the crowd of people that have gathered for this party now. You cling to his arm (his bare, well-chiseled biceps), and you never let your eyes leave the sight of his head (a backwards hat resting on his long black hair). 

When Jaehyun finds the way to the kitchen almost impossible to pass through due to it being a small room filled with alcohol and too many people trying to drink that alcohol, he sighs and stops, leaning against the wall and tugging you close to avoid you getting knocked into by the people passing behind you.

“Well, there goes my planned prize for you,” Jaehyun sighs, looking at you with this look that swells a hope inside you. “Guess I should treat you with something else.”

“I have an idea,” you venture, pressing forward a little more, letting your hand slide up his arm. “If you’re interested, you could be my prize, and I’ll be yours.”

“I’ll take that. Gladly.” Jaehyun’s gaze flicks between your eyes and your lips.

Before either of you can back down, decide that maybe you’re too buzzed to make a solid decision right now, you grab his hand and pull him away from the mass of people waiting to get inside the kitchen. You lead him upstairs, heading right for the bathroom you know is at the end of the hallway beside one of Mark’s housemate’s rooms.

You think you hear someone call your name downstairs, but over the music, it’s difficult to tell, and you refuse to let yourself be distracted away from Jaehyun.

You pull him inside the bathroom. Jaehyun closes the door behind him, and as soon as he’s turned to face you again, you all but launch yourself at him. 

Jaehyun’s teeth clack against yours. His warm fingers dig into your ass and thighs, and you clutch desperately at Jaehyun’s face, holding his mouth against yours in a bruising kiss as he stumbles deeper inside the bathroom with you. You feel the plasticky brush of the shower curtain, and then your back hits cool tile. 

Jaehyun has you against the shower wall, the scent of body wash filling your nose, and your moan echoes off the tile when Jaehyun slips his hand inside your panties. His fingers are expert, skilled at getting you off, toying with your clit and then he’s two fingers deep, rubbing your clit now as well as stimulating you from the inside. 

“Told you I’d give you a prize. You gonna cum for me, pretty girl? Gonna cum on my fingers?” Jaehyun kisses his words against your throat, and then he closes his lips around a sensitive spot and sucks.

Not that you want Jaehyun to know, but it’s been months since the last time you had sex, since the last time you orgasmed, so as the climax hits right now, your vision goes white, and your senses are overwhelmed on every side.

The volume in the room increases to a dull roar in your ears, and your fingers dig into Jaehyun’s shoulders, your body arching as he keeps going, pushing your orgasm to last longer and longer on his fingers. You moan his name softly between gasps, like an ecstatic prayer.

Your eyes flutter open, and you realize that the volume in the room isn’t just the buzz of pleasure and the pounding of your heartbeat anymore.

The dull roar of the party cuts out significantly when Jungwoo shuts the door behind him. Jaehyun’s head snaps up from where he’s been trying to leave his mark on your throat. Jungwoo clears his throat, “Don’t mind me, Jae, I just came up for a piss. But you should probably know that’s our housemate’s sister you’re fingering.”

Housemate? Jaehyun’s one of Mark’s new housemates? Shit, you drop your head back, in disbelief that you’ve done this again, fucking with your brother’s friend.

“Shit,” Jaehyun whispers quietly against your skin. “I thought you looked kinda familiar.”

“She has a thing for fucking her brother’s best friends.” Jungwoo turns his back on the pair of you, and you realize that he genuinely is using the toilet right now. Unbelievable. He couldn’t have just walked out to use one of the other two bathrooms in this house when he saw that this one was occupied?

“Jealous, Jungwoo?” You push lightly at Jaehyun’s shoulders until he steps back, freeing up enough space for you to straighten your clothes. “It’s not a good look on you.”

Jungwoo laughs. “Why would I be jealous? We had sex one night, and never spoke about it again.”

“Don’t pretend like you didn’t want it to happen again.” You walk up right behind him. “Do you think I haven’t caught you looking at me?”

Jungwoo turns to face you. “What about you looking at me? Have you not spent any lonely nights since then thinking of me? Remembering the way I touched you, how it felt when you fell apart for me?”

Jaehyun clears his throat. “I’m still standing right here, you know. If you’re gonna have this weird moment, at least let me leave.” He starts to step around you, to squeeze by both you and Jungwoo, but you reach out to touch his arm.

“Don’t go. I want you to stay. You’re the one I brought in here. Not Jungwoo.” You squeeze Jaehyun’s wrist. 

“Maybe you two just need to fuck it out of each other again,” Jaehyun recommends. “Don’t let me get in the way of that.”

You don’t let go of his wrist even when he tugs, instead you hold tighter. Something he said gave you an idea. “Don’t go. I don’t want you to be in the way, Jaehyun. What if, and either of you can say no, but what if we all got what we wanted?”

You know for a fact it would be the end of you if Mark ever learned that you’d had sex with not just one of his bestfriends, and not even just that you had sex with two of his best friends, but the fact that you had sex with two of them at the same time in the bathroom of the house he’s renting with said best friends, yeah, you would be over if he knew.

So you definitely don’t let risk letting him find out.

This time you lock the door. You don’t want anyone walking in when you’re leaning your elbows on the low countertop of the sink in that bathroom, blowing Jungwoo with your panties around your ankles while Jaehyun fucks you. You don’t want anyone to walk in when Jaehyun pulls you back up against his chest, when Jungwoo steps closer and edges his fingers in alongside Jaehyun’s cock.

Something about the coordinated way that they move with each other, the way neither voices a complaint as Jungwoo stretches your pussy around him and Jaehyun’s cocks, something about that strikes you as odd. Not premeditated necessarily, just practiced, like maybe they’ve fucked a girl together before.

If you thought your orgasm on just Jaehyun’s fingers after so long without sex was amazing, then the orgasm you experience on both of their cocks is world-ending. You feel yourself breaking apart at the edges, the pleasure going and going as they neither one stop when they feel you cumming around them. 

Jungwoo kisses you even when your head falls back against Jaehyun’s shoulder, tasting the pathetic whimpers and pleas of more that spill from your lips. Jaehyun snaps his hips forwards harder, driving himself closer and closer to his own orgasm. The feel of his cock pulsing inside you, shooting his load inside you, is enough to have you cumming again.

Jaehyun pulls out, but he stays right there beside you, his chest against your back, his arms around you, holding you up as Jungwoo keeps fucking you. You’re sensitive now, so sensitive and it hurts but it feels so good, and you keep clenching around Jungwoo. 

“Shit, baby,” Jungwoo hisses and groans. “I forgot just how tight you are. I’ve missed you. Fuck, I’ve missed this.”

You feel like a white hot star on the verge of collapse by the time that Jungwoo cums, his fingers twitching over your clit just to draw a final orgasm from you. This is all much more than you’ve felt in a long time, or possibly more than you’ve ever felt. 

Jaehyun supports you against his chest as Jungwoo steps back. Your legs feel useless when your feet touch the floor, and you have Jaehyun to thank for you not completely collapsing. He holds you, slowly leaning back against the wall and sinking even more slowly to the floor with you. You feel like you could never move again and be perfectly happy. 

“I’ve got her, she’s fine,” you hear Jaehyun say. “Go back out to the party. I can help her clean up, can get her to bed. Should I put her in Mark’s room?”

“No,” you murmur, “Put me in Jungwoo’s bed. Mark wouldn’t think that’s weird for me to be there.”

Jaehyun goes a little stiff at the idea of leaving you in another guy’s bed, but you hear the silent agreement between the two. They won’t talk about this outside of here. They won’t let this fuck up a friendship--either the one between them, or the one with Mark. Jaehyun will help you into Jungwoo’s bed tonight, but that doesn’t mean he won’t hope to have you in his on some other night.

And after Jungwoo leaves the bathroom, after you’ve regained some desire to get up off this bathroom floor,  you makeout with Jaehyun in the shower while you both clean up. You sneak out of the bathroom and down the hall to Jungwoo’s room beside your brother’s, and when you climb in between the covers and bury your face in the pillow that smells just like Jungwoo, Jaehyun slides in beside you.

“I really like you,” he tells you. “I know we’ve only known each other for a couple hours now, but I really like you.” 

“I like you a lot too,” you admit. You place a hand lightly on his cheek, drawing Jaehyun into a kiss. 

Jungwoo finds you like that a bit later when he comes to bed; you and Jaehyun asleep in each other’s arms in his bed, and his heart breaks a little knowing that this is something he could have had if he would’ve just fought a little harder a few months ago to make his feelings known to you. He should’ve made a move before tonight, sometime after that night you’d spent with him months ago. But he was scared of what your brother might think.

That’s why he’d come upstairs tonight. He’d seen you walking upstairs, and by the time Jungwoo navigated his way through the crowd and extricated himself from clinging hands trying to drag him in for a drink, he’d followed you upstairs only to find you getting fingered by Jaehyun.

He’s still standing there beside his own bed, looking at you two, when you stir. 

“Jungwoo?” You ask, stretching out a hand to him. “Come to bed.”

The feel of your palm sliding against his, lightly pulling him to join you, that is almost more exhilarating that what happened earlier in the evening. Because you might be cuddling with Jaehyun, but you clearly want him there too, and Jungwoo doesn’t entirely understand what any of this means, but if he can have this moment with you and a million more like it, he doesn’t think he really minds what it means to share you with Jaehyun. 

requests are now closed! Thank you to everyone that sent your requests/prompts in, I really enjoyed writing these drabbles!

[sundaysundaes]

Craving

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Vampire AU, Roommates AU | Smut, Fluff, Humor, Romance

Summary: Dating a brat is exhausting. Dating a bratty vampire is even more exhausting so you wonder, why did I even agree to this?

It’s a continuation of Love Bites but can be read separately because it’s really just 12k long of vampire porn with no real plot.

Warnings: Vampire sex, bondage, oral sex (69), overstimulation, unprotected sex, fingering, implied public sex, a little bit of dom!hyuck and a little bit of exhibitionist!hyuck, blood sucking (plenty of that) 

Not once in your life did you ever imagine yourself dating a vampire. And certainly, never thought about living together with that so-called vampire boyfriend of yours. You never know what to expect from a situation like this but maybe it’s better not to think too much about it anyway since Lee Donghyuck always manages to exceed your expectation.

Before you became his personal midnight snack, Donghyuck had to search for his own food which either meant he had to buy blood bags from the cheapest hospital around or pick up girls with low self-esteems downtown to have kinky and messy—like really messy, blood everywhere, you don’t want to imagine—one night stands with them to fulfill both his needs for blood and sex. He often complained about it, grumbling with his lips turning into this adorable pout as he told you how he wasn’t fond of his way of life or the effort he had to make just to survive.

So now that he has you as his personal walking blood bag, Donghyuck is having the time of his life and he’s enjoying every minute of it. He’s one hundred percent happy all the time that it annoys the heck out of you. It’s not that you don’t want him to be happy—of course, you want your boyfriend to be happy—but happy Donghyuck means he’s gonna get all clingy and playful, and him being clingy and playful means hell.

“Hyuck.”

“Yes, baby?”

“I’m trying to do my laundry.”

“I’m aware.”

“So, can you get off of me for a second, please?”

“For a second? Sure.” He untangles himself away from you but only for a second, literally. “Second’s up!” The way he giggles is almost like a child, circling his arms along your waist and buries his face in the crook of your neck again, nuzzling up to you while chanting, “Cute, cute, cute, you’re so cute. The cutest girl in the whole universe!” 

Donghyuck is clingy as fuck. He can’t go through the whole ten minutes without, at least, ruffling your hair, poking your cheek, or pinching the bridge of your nose. You’ve known for a while that he’s fond of skinship more than anyone you’ve ever met and it was bearable before since he only did it when he was flirting with you. But ever since you’ve become official, he just literally couldn’t get his hands off you.

So, how on earth would you get any of your work done?

The second the sun sinks below the horizon, Donghyuck will come out of his room with the biggest smile on his face and his arms spread wide, “Baby, I’m awake! Come here and get your daily dose of Hyuck’s loving!” And if you don’t respond to him in the way he wants to—which is by embracing him and kissing him for a good half an hour or so—he will make sure you won’t be able to pay attention to anything else but him for the rest of the evening.

He follows you around like a puppy, humming the same Michael Jackson’s song over and over again as he waits for you to finish washing the dishes, his feet tapping against the floor to match the beats in his head.

“Don’t you have something else to do besides waiting for me?” You ask, scrubbing the rest of the barbecue sauce off your plate. 

“I do have something to do.” And he suddenly pops up behind you, blowing air to your ear. “You.”

And you raise your silver spoon in the air, forcing him to run to the other side of the room, whining, “Baby, that’s not fair!”

Whenever you’re busy reading a book, Donghyuck will snuggle close and insist for you to sit on his lap. You’re not complaining in the slightest because it does feel nice and he rarely does anything weird since he also enjoys spending his time watching tv with his chin placed on the top of your head and his arms circled idly around your waist. It’s you who tends to get distracted with the way his chest is pressing against your spine, his laugh reverberating straight to your skin whenever something funny is playing on the screen. And when you get distracted, your heart races, and when he hears your heartbeat increasing, he chuckles lowly, leaning in to nibble at your earlobe while whispering, “If you’re horny, you can just tell me, baby.”

And you smack him in the head with your book.

Today is a bit different. Today, you have dedicated yourself to switch your role and be the one who teases the hell out of him instead. But since he’s too sly, always a step ahead of you whenever you make a plan to humiliate him, there’s only one way you can win this game: ignoring him.

So that’s what you intend to do. When the night takes over and Donghyuck comes out from his room with a bird’s nest on his head and a cheeky grin on his face, saying, “Baby, I’m awake and I’m ready to hear how much you’ve missed me during the day,” you just sit there on the couch, flipping another page of your novel. “Hey, Hyuck,” you simply greet him.

“Hey, Hyuck?” He repeats, appalled and disgusted with the way you said it. “What kind of treatment is that? Is it that time of the month already?” He takes a whiff of the air. “No, it’s not. I can smell it.”

“For the sake of our relationship, please refrain yourself from smelling my scent to know my menstruation cycle in the future, thank you.”

“How? You want me to stop breathing?” He laughs to himself. “Just kidding. You know I don’t breathe.”

You want to roll your eyes and bury your face in your hands—ashamed of the things he said—but you realize that you have to play it cool and give him the cold shoulder.

Placing hands on his hips, he questions with a huff, “So I’m not getting any hug around here?” 

“I’ll be with you in a moment.” 

You move away from the living room, doing literally anything else but giving him what he asks for. Donghyuck sighs and follows you too, as expected, leaning his back against the kitchen counter as he waits for you to finish making yourself a cup of coffee.

“Did I do something that upset you?” He asks, scratching his cheek.

“No, of course not.” You smile, giving him a squeeze on his arm. But then you walk away, leaving him confused and bitter.

Ignoring him is both fun and hilarious because you can see him stealing glances at you even when he tries to act cool about it. He tries to distract himself by playing video games but he keeps on losing so he presses his fingers a little too hard to the controller, nearly breaking it in half.

“Careful,” you warn. “I borrowed that thing.”

“Whatever.” He throws the controller away, scoffing. “It’s stupid anyway.”

To know that his happy self can be reduced to this grumbling mess just because you’re ignoring him makes you feel elated and you wonder, am I a sadist for enjoying this so much?

Hours have passed and you still won’t give in to him, which is really something because he’s doing things that almost make you crawl back to his lap. Donghyuck knows how hot he is, knows how his eyebrow raise and half-lidded eyes do wonders to your heart and mind. So it’s not a surprise when he walks out of the bathroom with his wet hair pushed back, showcasing his temple and his perfect eyebrows. Droplets of water are sliding down from his bare chest to his v-lines, with his white towel hanging dangerously low on his hips. He doesn’t head back to his room right away, and instead, takes a seat on the coffee table, right in front of you.

“Babe.”

You promise yourself inwardly that you will not take a fucking glance at him when he’s like this. “Hmm?”

“I know you’re trying your best to ignore me but your heart is beating like crazy.” He’s raising his eyebrow. You know it. You’re not seeing it but you know it. “Isn’t it time for you to give up your stupid little prank and make-out with me already?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” This time, you open your MacBook, busying yourself with typing words on your keyboards.

Donghyuck walks over—still in his fucking towel and nothing more, for God’s sake—and leans closer from behind the couch. He looks over your shoulder as you browse the internet to find something to distract your thoughts. He snorts loudly when he sees the article you’re reading.

“Chalamet?” He jeers. “Who’s Timothee Chalamet? What kind of name is Timothee Chalamet?”

“He’s an Oscar nominee and he’s barely twenty-five. He’s cute.”

“So? I’m cuter than Timothee Chalamet. Way more beautiful too. Just FYI, they invented the term ‘beautiful’ to describe me actually. Happened a long time ago. It’s a fact.”

“That’s great,” you blankly respond, typing another name of a celebrity on the search bar. “I know there’s another term they invented for you.”

“What, ethereal?”

“Cocky-Ass Bitch.”

He gasps and he’s not even breathing.

And when you keep denying his protest, he pushes your MacBook away from your lap and tackles you down to the couch.

“I can’t believe you’re looking at some other dude when you have me paying you full attention,” he says, wetting his lower lip as he peers into your eyes, his body hovering dangerously close above yours. His eyes are gleaming with both desire and affection which still makes the knot in your stomach tighten to this day but you’re a tad better at controlling your expression this time. A droplet of water drops from the tip of his hair to your cheek.

Wiping it off with a slide of your thumb, you comment, “You’re wet.”

“So are you, ever since you’ve met me.” He winces at his words when a few seconds pass by in silence. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”

You tap his cheek. “As long as you’ve learned your lesson.”

He pouts as he heads back to the main topic. “Your prank is going too far, Sweetheart.”

“What prank? I don’t do pranks, Hyuck. I’m not you.”

“So, why have you been ignoring me then?”

“Is it really that weird for me to just have some time for myself?”

“Well—I—” It’s the first time he ever seems lost for words. “I just—”

“What, are you thirsty?” You flatly ask, telling yourself to not let your eyes wander to the muscles in his arms and stomach. “Don’t tell me you want to drink again. It’s only been a day, Hyuck.”

“It’s not that!” He whines, pouting with his eyebrows knitting in a frown. “Can’t I snuggle with my girlfriend?”

“That’s literally what you’ve been doing all this time.”

“Yes, but you haven’t been focusing on me properly!” He sighs loudly, letting you go, and throws himself down on the other end of the couch with a loud huff. “You know what, I think we really should talk about this.”

“Talk about what?”

“About how you’re not really cute these days!” He blurts out, hands moving animatedly as he speaks. “You used to be all fidgety and shy, blushing all the time whenever you see me—”

“In your head, maybe. I don’t recall ever doing that.”

“See, this!” He throws his hands in the air, exasperated. “This is what I’m talking about. You’re mean to me now! Not cute at all!”

“Is this our first fight?” You ask, yawning a little which makes your boyfriend gapes in disbelief. “Are we really fighting over the fact I’m not cute anymore? Seriously?” But when he becomes more upset, you break out in a grin. “I’m just messing with you.” Still laying down on the couch, you tug at his hand. “Come here.”

He crosses his arms on his chest. “No.”

“You don’t want your daily dose of my sweet, sweet loving?”

He shakes his head, his lower lip protruding. “Why should I be the one who needs to crawl over to you? This is your fault. You come here.”

You exhale loudly but on the inside, you can’t help but squeal he’s so fucking cute.

You’re not usually aggressive during make-out sessions—well, at least not with Donghyuck anyway. With Mark, you had to take a lead or else you’d just end up watching TV until you both pass out on the couch. But you decide to step up your game today because just as much as he likes to tease you, you also like to tease him.

“Fine,” you say, crawling over to the other side of the couch and settle yourself on his lap. You lay your hand on his shoulders, massaging the tense muscles. “Better?”

Donghyuck is still glowering at you in response so you decide to take a step further. “You look so hot without your clothes on,” you praise him, thanking God that your voice doesn’t stutter. Your fingertips draw a line from his Adam’s apple down to his chest. “But I guess you already know that seeing how many times you’re doing this on purpose.”

He scoffs, swatting your hand away before he crosses his arms in front of his chest. “Don’t touch me. I’m still pissed at you.”

You chuckle. “Ah, so no Hyuck’s loving for me tonight?”

“No Hyuck’s loving for the whole week.”

“You sure about that?” Toying with the buttons of your shirt, you wiggle your eyebrows seductively at him.

He hears the sound of your button being popped open but gives his best effort to keep his eyes away. “What are you doing?”

“Undressing myself.”

“Why?”

“Because my cute vampire boyfriend is upset,” you pause to stand on your knees, tugging the rest of your shirt out from your skirt before you discard it to the floor. “And I know this would please him.”

He instinctively turns to you, his nose almost grazing your bare stomach before he quickly looks away again, albeit tempted to suck bruises on the supple skin. Donghyuck’s eyes move to stare at the ceiling, gulping at the sound of you pulling down the zipper on your skirt to loosen the fabric before you push it up to your hips, giving him the chance to stare at your thighs when he wants.

“Hyuck,” you move your hips slightly, giving him enough friction to entice his mind. “Baby.”

Donghyuck tries his very best to avert his gaze to anything else besides the part that connects you to him. “No,” he repeats, clenching his jaw.

“But Hyuck…” You realize you’re practically moaning his name now and it’s both embarrassing and exciting that you can play the role of a seductress and having that kind of effect on him. Hooking a finger around your bra strap, you pull it down, exposing the joints between your neck and your shoulder. “Don’t you want me?”

He suddenly whines loudly, throwing his head back with his teeth gritting against one another as he murmurs “You’re unbelievable,” bitterly into the air but you can hear his confidence wavering. It only takes another grind of your hips against him before he snaps. 

You’re suddenly thrown back to his bed before you know it. He was moving too fast for your eyes to process that you could only felt being carried for a split second before you have your back pressed against the sheets.

He’s hovering on top of you, your hips trapped between his knees. “You do realize,” he begins, “That I never just look at you as an object of sexual desire, right? You’re more than that to me.” He bends down, one hand curling against the front of your neck, his thumb tracing your beating vein. “Way, way more than that.”

His sincerity and serious demeanor catch you off guard. “Yeah, also as someone to fill your midnight cravings.”

“Of course not—”

“I’m kidding, I know.” Your playful gaze is replaced with a tender one. “But you always react like this whenever I tempt you that way so I couldn’t help but tease.”

He scrunches up his nose. “You’re not cute.” But the way he slots his mouth against yours speak nothing but praise and adoration. “You’re not cute at all.”

Surprisingly, Donghyuck is gentler after your first sexual encounter with him. Maybe it’s because he feels sorry for sucking too much blood and went a little rough when it was your first time on everything. You always try to convince him that it’s fine and it doesn’t hurt at all during the time you have sex with him—because the chemicals in his saliva triggered an endorphin rush, pumping pleasure all over your body—but seeing how you could barely walk on the next morning, Donghyuck decides to restrain himself.

You still remember the second time he decided to take a step further, about two weeks after your first intimate session with him. Donghyuck was at his very best behavior that night—making you dinner, listening to you complaining about your work, and swaying his body with you to the soft music he played in the background. Being in such close proximity, you couldn’t help but wonder why he never laid a hand on you again. He did drink from you, once every two days, but he always acted so rigid, so jittery when he held you to his chest, drinking from the side of your neck. You were awkward too, not sure how to place your hands or say something to break the tension. You could hear him swallowing, once, twice, taking a big gulp each time and you could feel yourself drowning in refined pleasure, losing track of the world from his bite.

Speaking of that, you notice one thing. This endorphin rush you feel every time he sinks his teeth into your skin also affects your sexual desire. You didn’t realize that before because you were having sex the first time he bit you. You finally understand why those slutty girls he brought home loved having their blood sucked by vampires. Sex with a vampire itself is transcendent, so having your blood sucked during sex? A dangerous, erotic, and lovely bliss.

But Donghyuck never touched you that way, that was the problem. Every time he finished drinking, he’d retract his fangs back, making you whimper at the loss of his effects on you and leaving you dizzy with blood loss. He’d wipe his mouth clean, tilt your face to check on your condition—which you always responded with a goofy smile as you reeled on the lingering sensation of his bite—and say, “I’m sorry that you had to do this for me. I’ll carry you back to your room. Hold on to me.” And you’d allow him to do just that, secretly hoping that he would join you in bed but he never did. 

Was the sex not good? Were you too loud? Too whiny? Too docile? Were you too shy? Does he prefer his partner to take control in bed? Be more aggressive? These questions ran back-and-forth in your mind to the point that you began to have trouble sleeping.

So when two weeks had passed after that bathroom incident and nothing happened, you decided to bring the matter down to the table. You were craving for his touch, even more so when he looked so fucking good with his hair slightly pushed back, his shirt doing nothing at hiding the muscles in his arms, his face hovering just a few inches away from yours as he led you close in a slow dance. You just needed to ask before you went crazy.

“Why won’t you touch me?”

Donghyuck blinked. “What?”

“Why won’t you touch me?” You repeated, heat rising to your cheeks. “After that night in the bathroom, you never… made a move on me.”

That question should’ve triggered something sinful coming from his mouth, probably like, “Oh, so you want me to touch you? Enlighten me, Sweetheart, just how much do you want me? Where do you exactly want me to touch you?”

But Donghyuck actually just stood in silence with conflicted eyes. You had to call his name to force him to speak. “I don’t want to hurt you again.”

“You won’t hurt me—”

“No, you don’t understand.” He cupped the side of your face, thumb rubbing soothingly against your cheekbone. “Drinking your blood already makes me want to do crazy things to you. You’re so alluring, so…” He wetted his lip, his eyes going down to take in the shape of your mouth. “Intoxicating.” He moved his thumb to trace the smoothness of your lips. “I’m just afraid that I won’t be able to control myself when we take a step further than this. I don’t want to hurt you again like I did the first time.”

It’s funny how he mentioned the word intoxicating because that was how exactly you perceived him. His whole being was intoxicating, turning every sound in the room into a whisper, every bit of your surroundings into a blur. The world did not matter when you were with him, as it solely revolved around him.

So you yanked him down by the collar of his shirt, slotted your mouth against his, lips parting to taste a hint of the coppery flavor of your blood on his tongue. Donghyuck instinctively reacted by enclosing his arms along your waist, pulling you close until you breathed heavily against his mouth. He was a man of passion, burning like the sun, lips scorching as he met yours in a searing kiss.

He tried to break away, holding your wrist in the air. “Wait, stop—”

“I have an idea,” you immediately said, kissing him once again just because you couldn’t hold yourself away from the temptation. “I have an idea we can try, so—” Another kiss, but he was the one who initiated it this time. He pushed you against the wall, gentle but dominating, his knee slipping between your legs, pushing up the fabric of your dress. You moaned against his mouth, fingers fisting against his shirt, desperate for support. He slid both hands down your thighs, silky smooth against your skin, and lifted your legs in the air, forcing you to tangle them around his waist to maintain stability.

“Fuck,” you cursed under your breath, reeling in the way he peppered kisses from your jawline down to your neck, tongue lapping at a speck of dry blood on your marked skin. “Let’s go—ah—let’s go to your room—Hyuck—”

He was busy having his hand under your shirt, splaying his fingers on your stomach before they found their way up to your breast, but he heard your order. He carried you back to his room, lips never leaving yours and you found yourself pressed against the sheet the next time you blinked your eyes. 

“Those handcuffs,” you gasped out between his smothering kisses. “Those handcuffs of yours that you keep in your closet. Use them.”

Donghyuck abruptly stopped, tugged himself away. “What?”

You were breathless and lightheaded, chest heaving up and down. “It upsets me to say this,” you confessed, “But I remember that time when we haven’t started dating, I found a pair of handcuffs in your closet and—”

“You went into my closet?”

“To clean your stuff. You had your clothes scattered all over the place so I had to fold them up and when I was about to put them back in, I saw them. I thought it was probably one of your kinks so I just shrugged it off. You honestly didn’t realize how clean and organized your closet was that day?”

“Well, I was never messy to begin with.”

“That’s bullshit and we both know it.”

He pouted, sighing. “Right, so you knew about my bondage kink. You’re telling me you want us to use it?” He gave you a look. “You had sex one time and you’ve already found yourself a kink? Seems like I underestimated your sexual curiosity, woman.”

“It’s not that.” You rolled your eyes. All of this rambling did not fuel your arousal, at all. “I want you to wear it.”

Donghyuck actually looked disgusted. “I like to tie my women, not being tied up, thank you very much.”

“You said you were scared of losing control, right? If you’re tied up, you won’t be able to hurt me.”

He snorted. “A cheap handcuff like that won’t be able to hold me down, Sweetheart.”

“But at least it serves as a reminder.” You laid your hand on his chest, drawing lines on the cold skin. “I mean, I’m fine whether you wear it or not. I just want to be with you.” You pulled him down into an innocent hug, but the way you were grinding your hips against him was anything but that. “But if you feel this,” you palmed his length through his jeans, forcing him to emit a groan from the back of his throat, “can make you lose control then maybe we should try my idea. I don’t want us to stop, Hyuck, and I don’t care if you break me.” You leaned in to bury your face in the juncture of his neck, whispering, “I just want to feel you inside me again.”

“Fuck.” He groaned loudly against your shoulder, fingers twisting against the sheet. “Okay, where’s that fucking handcuff—” The way he tumbled down the bed—a century-old vampire tumbling down the bed—makes you giggle, even more so when he frantically rummages his closet, throwing clothes here and there, muttering, “where is it, where is it, come on, come on, come on, where’s that fucking thing,” to himself, until he finally hooked his fingers around a pair of handcuffs, shouting, “YES, I FOUND THEM,” to the air. 

He hurriedly went back to the bed, looking breathless when he wasn’t even breathing, and crawled on top of you again. He chased after your lips and your laughter soon reduced back into gasps and moans before he finally broke away, asking, “Okay, tie me up. Hurry.” You’d think that being alive for more than a century would’ve taught him some self-control, but Donghyuck was eager and desperate, way more than you were.

He flipped your body before you could prepare yourself so you yelped in surprise, landing on his chest as he laid himself down on the bed, his head nearly knocking against the headboard. He offered you his wrists, saying, “I’m all yours, Sweetheart.” And you gulped hard, heartbeat blasting through the roof, heat rising to your cheeks. 

The handcuffs were made of steel, cold to the touch and you secretly thanked the Lord that they weren’t one of those furry ones you saw in porn movies. You were secretly drooling at the sight of your usually dominating boyfriend lying helplessly on the bed, waiting for you to take the lead; his broad chest displayed under your hands, with you straddling him by the hips. His shirt was slightly pushed up, showcasing his v-lines and his navel that usually stayed hidden underneath. You followed his happy trail, disappointed when it disappeared behind the hem of his jeans.

“Stop being so blatant about it.” His voice was velvety, thick with seduction. “You’re gonna make me blush.”

“I—I wasn’t staring.”

“Never said you were.”

It was annoying how easily he could make you feel all hot and flustered. “S-shouldn’t you take off your shirt first?”

He held back a smile. “I can fuck you just fine with my shirt on but sure, I’ll take it off.” There was something in the way he grabbed the back of his shirt before he pulled it over his head that made you blush, averting your gaze but managed to sneak a peek at the way the muscles on his abs were contracting under the movement.

“Baby?” He snatched you back to reality when a few seconds had passed in silence. “If you don’t tie me up now, I’m gonna tie you up and have my way with you.”

You blushed. That… actually doesn’t sound so bad. You shook your head. That can wait. With shaky fingers, you place one of the handcuffs around his wrist and tied the other one to his headboard. He tried to yank his hand free, testing the strength of it. “I can break this in a split second,” he commented, “But I guess it does work as a reminder.”

“Do you have another pair that I can use to tie your other hand?”

“Leave my other hand free,” he demanded, eyes gleaming as he gazed at you. “I want to touch you.”

You breathed heavily. “O-okay.”

“So,” he smiled, awkward and amused. “We’re doing this?”

You bit your lip, slowly nodding. “W-we’re doing this.”

“Aaw, nervous?” His laughter sounded light in your ears. “How cute.”

“Shut up.”

“Then, come here,” he invited, gesturing you to come close with one hand. “Kiss me.”

You didn’t waste a second longer. 

His kiss was slower this time, almost shy as if it was the first kiss you shared with him and it somehow made your heart beat even faster. You could hear him chuckling against your mouth, probably noticing your heart rate and you slapped his chest playfully to stop him from hearing things he wasn’t supposed to.

“Ah, you’re cute, so cute,” he kept saying, tracing his tongue along your lower lip, begging for entrance. His kisses gradually became deeper, harder, and his muffled laughter was replaced with soft groans. His praise was reduced to your name and you sighed in pleasure when you felt his lips moving down your neck, grazing your beating vein.

The position felt a bit awkward but possibly because you had never done it with him before. You were lying on top of him, your body pressed hotly against his chest and although he was already half-naked, you were still fully clothed. You weren’t sure whether you should undress yourself or let him do the work, but could he do it with one hand?

You remembered the time when he ripped your camisole and bra at the same time with only his fingers.

Yes. Yes, he could.

But Donghyuck seemed to be aware of what you were thinking because he ordered you to, “Take your clothes off.”

“I’m—” Flabbergasted, you pulled away, sitting straight on his stomach. “C-can’t you just take them off for me?”

You could tell he was trying to hold back another smirk from breaking upon his face. “But baby,” he cooed, raising his free hand in the air. “I only have one hand.”

“You practically ripped my undergarments with one finger before.”

“Did I?” His smirk grew prominent. “I forgot.”

“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“What, being straddled by my girlfriend as she tries to undress herself while I’m being tied up to the bed?” He shrugged nonchalantly. “Meh, it’s not bad.”

“Why you little—”

Donghyuck’s laughter was contagious when you tickled him on the sides of his stomach that you ended up smiling at him too but it soon faltered when he curled his fingers around your locks, bringing your head down to smash his lips against yours until they were red and bruised. You became nervous once again when he tugged on your shirt, silently ordering you to take it off.

“Okay,” you said, sitting on his stomach, fingers trembling slightly as they were fiddling around the top of your dress. “Can you… look away, please?”

“Why?”

“Because you’re making me nervous.”

“Baby,” he tittered, “Just in case you weren’t aware of this. Being your boyfriend means that I’m allowed to enjoy the sight of my girlfriend taking her clothes off.”

“M-maybe later in the future. Can you just look away now?” When he was still adamant about it, you added, “Please?”

He sighed. “Fine, but in the future don’t blame me if I ask you to strip-tease to make up for this.” He closed his eyes, lips pouting. “Also, this is the only time I’ll allow this to happen.”

“Two weeks in our relationship and you’re already ordering me around.”

“It’s not—” He groaned loudly, opening his eyes again to make sure you knew that he was glaring. “It’s not that. I just really want to look. There’s something sexy about girls taking their clothes off.”

“Girls?”

“I mean, you, baby. Only you.”

You gave him a flat look. “Whatever. Close your eyes.”

He jutted out his bottom lip but followed your command, while quietly repeating your line, “Two weeks in our relationship and you’re already ordering me around.”

“I heard that.”

“I heard that,” he mocked and you flicked him on his Adam’s apple until he whined.

Dating a brat was exhausting. Dating a bratty vampire was even more exhausting, but Donghyuck could also be charming and mature when he needed to be so you forgave him for that.

Seeing how he kept his eyes closed, you reached the end of your dress and pulled it off your head in one try. Strands of your hair were caught in the zipper, tugging at your scalp when you tried to unravel them in a hurry. Clicking your tongue in annoyance, you gave better effort to disentangled them with more patience.

“Need a hand, Sweetheart?”

You jolted, a squeak fell off your mouth. When you turned around to see him, your boyfriend was staring at you with a bratty grin on his face.

“Hey!” Flushed, you slapped him on the chest. “I didn’t tell you to look.”

“You told me not to look when you took your clothes off. You didn’t say anything about me staring at my cute girlfriend having the biggest crisis of her life.” His little laughter was just as annoying as it was charming. “Come here, I’ll help you.”

Your pride wouldn’t let you but you had spent minutes trying to break free from your stupid dress with no satisfying result so, with a heavy heart and a prominent scowl on your face, you bent down, leaning close to him until he could let his hand roam along your locks.

“This is so stupid,” you grumbled.

“I think it’s cute,” he chuckled, carefully unwinding the strands from your zipper. “This is the cutest you’ve ever been to me.”

You blushed slightly. Trying to avert your attention away, you began to focus on the sight in front of you. Pressed against his chest, your face was almost buried in the crook of his neck. You took the chance to press soft kisses on the cold skin, running your fingertips down from his collarbone to his navel. 

“There, done,” he said, tossing the dress away without a care. He sounded a bit breathily when your teeth grazed against his neck. “Let’s not waste any more time. Come here, I need you.” The way he tugged you toward him by your elbow was firm but not forceful. And no matter how much you had kissed him already, he still loved the way you moved your lips against his and never wanted it to stop.

Being on top of him didn’t necessarily mean you were in control. Even with one hand tied, Donghyuck knew how to lead, whispering guidance here and there, sometimes in the way that made you blush from how specific his orders were. Before you knew it, you were both fully naked, with you sitting on his thighs, stroking at his length as directed.

Donghyuck shivered under your touch, his eyes half-lidded in pleasure. “You—” He had to nip on his bottom lip to contain his groan when you swiped your thumb along his slit. “You don’t happen to have any lube with you, do you?”

You were so captivated by the way he looked, all needy under your fingers, that he had to call you by your name to gather your focus back to his question. “Oh, n-no. Why?” You stroked him faster, curling your fingers a little bit tighter around his length.

Donghyuck threw his head back, eyebrows adjoined in the middle. “Fuck,” he hissed, eyes glazed and when they peered back into yours, they were glowing brightly in topaz—almost golden, and brighter from the dim lighting of his room. “Well then,” he heaved, wetting his lip. “I guess, we’ll do it the old school way. Turn your body around for me.”

“What?”

“I want to be romantic and use pretty words, but desperate times need desperate measures so get your ass over here,” he gestured with his hand for you to come over to his face, “and your face over there.”

Steam practically came out of your ears from how ashamed you were. “What?!”

“I need to make you wet and you need to coat my dick with saliva so it won’t hurt when I get inside you.”

He wasn’t joking when he said he wasn’t going to be romantic about it. How the fuck can he say something like that so easily?! “I—I can’t,” you were practically wheezing, “It’s too embarrassing—I—”

“If you don’t want to suck my dick, you can just spit on your hand and—”

“I’m more worried about sitting on your face—”

“Oh, no need to worry about that.” He gave you a reassuring smile which somehow upsets you even more. “It’s actually something I’ve been imagining to happen—”

“Oh my God—”

“Would you stop freaking-out and listen to me, please?” He was laughing and you were having a seizure. “Babe, relax. Trust me, it will feel good.”

You had no doubts about that but still, it didn’t suddenly make it easy for you to just naturally sit on his face. But to be honest, the thought of it was as exciting as it was embarrassing and with Donghyuck being relaxed about it—not making this into such a big deal, unlike how Mark reacted when anything sexual occurred—you couldn’t help but succumb to your own curiosity.

“Okay,” you pressed a hand against your chest. “Just let me calm myself down a little.”

He suppressed a smile. “You’re having a crisis again?”

“Shut up.”

No matter how much you tried to compose yourself, you couldn’t. You became even more nervous, and you thought that wasn’t possible. The naughty twinkle in Donghyuck’s eyes gradually turned tender and he reached out a hand. “Here, let me help you relax.” 

You let him take hold of your wrist, bringing it to his face. He kissed your inner palm before he dragged his lips down to your wrist, his eyes peering into yours as he did it. You could feel his lips turning into a faint smile as they grazed your skin but on the next second, he bared his teeth, extended his fangs, and punctured your skin with them.

“Hyuck—” You yelped from the pain but soon began to lose yourself to the ecstasy of his bite. You could feel all the knots in your body started to loosen one-by-one, your mind becoming hazy with bliss. 

Donghyuck didn’t sink his teeth too deep and didn’t drink too much, only a gulp and nothing more even when his eyes were glowing bright, gravely needing another taste of your blood. He lapped at the wound, kissing the bite mark he made on your skin. “How do you feel?”

“I’m…” Your eyes began to droop, blinking slowly. “Great…. I feel great…”

He chuckled at your words. “That’s good to hear,” he said, “Now turn around and lower yourself on my face.”

You could barely hear him but you got the picture. As if hypnotized, you felt your body moved even before you could finish your thought. Donghyuck’s free hand was placed on the inner part of your thigh as you hovered above his head, spreading your legs apart. “Come down here, Sweetheart, I don’t bite.” You couldn’t see his face but you could tell he was smirking, and if you weren’t this intoxicated, you would’ve smacked him with the nearest pillow over his poor choice of words. But the effects of his bite and the rush of endorphin that were still coursing through your veins made you follow his commands without further question.

You were balancing yourself with your hands on his stomach as he ran his tongue along your folds, tasting you just a little bit but you already shivered at the sensation. “Hyuck…”

He hummed in response, sounding like he was having the time of his life, pushing your thigh further apart so you could lower yourself more, his tongue dipping into your heat this time.

You were going insane, you could feel it. Breathing heavily, you decided to focus on a task at hand. You curled your fingers around his length, thumb brushing against the slit again because you knew how much he liked it before, and you could feel him moan before you could hear him.

You gave a tentative lick on the head, kissing his tip before running your tongue along the vein. Your fingers were stroking the area your tongue didn’t cover and you could hear him purring in content. After a brief second of self-preparation, you parted your lips and tried to go down on him in one try. Donghyuck threw his head back against the sheet, groaning loudly between a train of expletives, so sexy and obscene. 

Hearing his moans encouraged you to do better so you tried to swallow him whole again. You could feel his tip hitting the back of your throat, making you tear up a little bit from the discomfort but you hollowed your cheeks and swallowed around him.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Donghyuck swore, his grip around your thigh grew tighter that it made you flinch but you continued with your ministration, bringing your hand into the game this time. It was so exciting, the sensation of having him dissolve into a groaning mess under your touch so you stroked him faster, sucked him harder, and continued even when he was practically whimpering in ecstasy.

As an act of revenge, Donghyuck licked his way deep into you with his free hand pumping a finger inside you and adding another one soon after. When you moaned around him, it urged him to go faster, his digits were now scissoring inside of you.

You were practically crying by the time he told you to stop, urging you to turn around to face him because “I want to see your face when you come.” You positioned yourself on top of his length, cheeks bright red from all the passion and lust you have swirling inside your chest, and slowly sank yourself down.

Donghyuck’s handcuff was rattling against the headboard as he reeled in the sensation. His fangs were extended once again, his eyes glowing almost dangerously as he gazed at you from behind his bangs. “Fuck, you’re so—“ he hissed, his eyes going down to the part where you were connected to him. “How can you be so sexy without trying—”

The way he twitched inside of you made you quiver, and you tumbled down to his chest, your face closing in on him. He met you halfway when you sent him a signal to kiss you, smothering you with his lips, wet with tongues and painted with both desperation and urgency.

“Move,” he ordered, his voice suddenly turning low and perilous. “Baby, move for me, please.”

You granted his wish, wincing at the feeling of him growing larger inside you. The friction still burned so you tried to muffle your cry with his kisses, but after a few shallow thrusts, you could finally feel yourself relaxing, adjusting to his length.

“Faster,” he urged, unconsciously tried to hold your hips with both hands and groaned loudly when his handcuff pulled his hand back to the headboard. “Dammit. Baby, please, move faster.”

“Be patient,” you said between small gasps. Your nails were almost sinking to his chest. “It’s only my second time, Hyuck. Let me do it at my own pace.”

He initially groaned in protest, eyes tightly shut with his eyebrows furrowed but when he managed to collect himself, he apologized, "You're right, I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm so hasty, you just make me feel so—" His jaw hung low when he felt you move, and by the time you began to clench your walls around him, he took his bottom lip between his teeth, leaning his head back against the headboard, relishing the moment.

As you steadied yourself with your hands on his chest, grinding your hips against him, you admired the details of his profile—his sultry half-lidded eyes, his plump lips, his cute front teeth that peeked out when he parted his lips in a silent moan, the tiny moles on his jaw and neck. He was both handsome and cute, and you were lucky—so damn lucky—to be able to witness these details with your own eyes.

“Fuck, I can’t—“ His voice startled you, snapping you out from your reverie. “I can’t do it like this. I’m gonna go crazy. Can you get off for a second?”

You were frowning but his urgency made you follow with a nod. You let him slid off of you, wincing slightly at both the pain and the loss of him. Donghyuck shifted his body until he was sitting on the bed, his spine pressed against the headboard. “Okay, come here,” he said, patting his thigh twice. You crawled over to his lap as requested, sitting on your knees as he held his length in one hand, positioning it over your entrance. You lowered yourself down, adjusting to his size once again and wrapping your arms around his neck for support.

“I can never get used to the feeling of you taking me in like that,” he murmured against your ear. “You’re so fucking tight.”

The new position allowed you to embrace him properly and you took advantage of it, meshing your lips with him as you bounced up and down, your breasts pressing against his chest. His free hand was urging you to move faster, nails sinking into the skin and you complied, trying to move as fast you can. “Yes,” he moaned, mouthing against your shoulder. “Just like that. You’re so good.”

The sounds he was making were so erotic that they made you weak. When he felt your movements gradually became slower, he began to buck his hips forward, thrusting into you hard while holding you firmly with one hand. 

He nearly broke his handcuff from how desperate he was in wanting to hold you tightly with both hands, fucking you senselessly like how did with you before in the bathroom. But the way the steel was nearly sinking into his skin reminded him of the sole purpose of having it around his wrist. Feeling restrained only made his thrusts grow even more frantic, pushing your hips down to meet his at such a quick pace.

“Wait—” Taken by surprise, you clutched your arms tightly around him. “Hyuck—”

He suddenly sank his teeth on the skin under your jaw, between the earlobe and the collarbone and you nearly jumped out of your skin. For half an instant, it was agonizing. Painful and horrible. And then, just like that, the pain disappeared. He swallowed twice, moaning against your skin, his thrusts going out of rhythm. 

The rush of endorphin helped to push you to the brink, clouding your thoughts and you couldn't tell where your body ended and his began but it didn't matter. That was how you always wanted it to be anyway. Donghyuck's lascivious grunts tugged on your heartstrings and with a couple of his hard thrusts, you began to shake. "H-Hyuck, I think I'm gonna—"

His mouth was still on your neck, now sucking bruises with his cuspids threatening to puncture. "Come, baby."

You came undone, body trembling with the biggest orgasm you’d ever felt. Donghyuck moaned your name against your ear when he felt you clenching and shaking around him. “God, that felt so good,” he said, still moving his hips, not caring if you were still sensitive after your orgasm. “You feel so good around me. Fuck, I want to do this again and again—I want to feel you more—I want to break you—”

And when his hips began to stutter, you knew he was close. He pulled you into a messy kiss where you could taste copper on his tongue but you didn’t mind and bounced faster on his lap, driving him to the edge.

You were startled by the sound of him breaking free from his handcuff with a hard yank of his wrist, but before you could react, he was pushing you off his lap, forcing you to stand with your knees on the bed, facing the headboard. Still reveling in the aftershock of your orgasm, your legs almost gave out on you so you placed both hands on the wall for support. "Hyuck—"

He was almost growling when he placed both hands on your hips and pushed himself back in a way that was so forceful, you ended up having your upper body pressed against the wall. He brought your hips closer to his, his tongue trailed against the dip of your spine, and you begged him to, "S-slow down, I just came—" but all that he did was the opposite. He snapped his hips forward, knocking the breath out of your lungs with each pound while murmuring, "Just a little bit more, baby," with so much lust and avidity. You gritted your teeth, curling your fingers against the railing of your headboard as if you were hanging on for dear life. Everything felt so good, so fucking good that you began to part your mouth in a silent scream. 

With his head dangling forward, glowing eyes covered with his fringe, and your name tumbling down his lips in a soft, throaty moan, he came.

***

“How are you feeling?”

Dazed and completely fucked-out, you thought, but only answered with, “Tired.”

“Are you hurt somewhere?”

You shook your head.

“Thank God,” Donghyuck pulled you closer by the waist, both of your naked bodies were buried under the blanket. “I kind of lost control at the end.” He sheepishly chuckled at himself. “You were so hot when you came.”

“Shut up.” But that only made him laugh a bit louder. He pried your hands away before you could bury your face in them and cupped your cheek so you could do nothing but stare back at him.

“Is it too fast to say I love you?” He asked and his eyes were sincere but you were too embarrassed to respond properly so you pushed your palm to his face, pushing him away.

“Of course, it’s too fast. We’ve only started dating for like what, two weeks?” But the way your heart almost leaped in joy betrayed you. You turned away from him, focusing your gaze on the bed lamp on his nightstand instead of his face. “If you tell me in like a year or something, maybe I’ll believe you.”

His laughter was warm, a stark contrast to how his skin felt under your touch. He leaned close, lips brushing against your hair as he embraced you close to his chest. “Then I’ll say it every day until you say it back to me next year,” he said, voice gentle and sincere. “I love you, baby.”

“Ugh, you’re gross.”

“There you go, playing hard to get again.” He whispered the next words with his lips brushing your earlobe. “Your ears are going red, though.”

“I’m going to kick you.”

“Well, I’m going to love you.”

But you kicked him anyway. The playful punches and kicks under the blanket managed to ease the tension, and before long, you were back to exchanging nonsensical banters with him again. The sunrise was still three hours away and even though your eyes were a bit heavy with sleep, your body exhausted beyond belief, you tried to keep yourself awake to spend a moment longer with him. You didn’t have any schedule the next morning anyway, so you could sleep to make up for the time you spent.

“Hyuck?”

“Yeah?”

“There’s… something I’ve been wanting to ask you for a while but I couldn’t since I felt so embarrassed about it.”

“Oh? It’s not often you’re honest like this.” He smirked, pushing the bangs out of your eyes. “What is it?”

“Did you…” You cleared your throat, trying not to be awkward. “Did you get to come when we had sex the first time?”

He blinked twice, startled. “Oh… I didn’t, actually.” He timidly smiled. “You kind of passed out during that time and I didn’t have the heart to continue so I just carried you back to your room.”

With cheeks turning scarlet, you squeezing his hand. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He pecked you on the nose. “It was my fault anyway. I shouldn’t have taken so much of your blood.” He gradually grew more serious. “I guess I’ve never thanked you for that, huh?” He tucked some strands of your hair behind your ear. “Thank you for giving me your blood. You’re literally the reason why I’m still alive to this day.”

“You’re welcome.” You mirrored his smile. “I have two other questions if you don’t mind.”

“Shoot.”

“Can vampires actually come?” You had to look away, noticing how stupid your questions was and added, “I mean, like, properly? Like humans do?”

“What, you didn’t feel it when I came inside you just now?”

You blushed madly. “I was too dizzy from the bite to notice.”

“Right, you passed out too. Again.” And before you could shout out your protest, he muffled your lips with his. “Of course, we can, Sweetheart. What, are you interested in making me come again?”

You gulped. “M-maybe later.” When you noticed him raising an eyebrow, you mentally slap yourself in the face.” I-I mean, not that I’m suggesting we should have sex again after this—”

“Oh? I was willing, though.” His godforsaken smirk should be banned from this world. Earning another punch to his stomach, he asked with a wince, “What’s the other question?”

You were still pouting from before but you asked, “Can vampires impregnate humans?”

“So eager to have my baby already? Two weeks in our relationship? Really?”

“Do you want to be punched again?”

“By your lips? Yes, plea—Aaw, hey, that hurts!” As he tried to soothe the pain away from the punch you landed on his chest, he added, “To answer your question, no. We don’t breed that way. Vampires are turned, not born.”

“How can you be so sure?”

He laughed. “Trust me, if vampires could get humans pregnant, then I would father hundreds of Hyuck babies by now.”

The thought of him having sexual relationships with other women in a way that was probably much hotter than yours made your heart drop to your stomach. There was an unfamiliar pain in your chest, pumping jealousy and resentment to your veins, clouding your thoughts with images of him lying in bed with naked women.

You turned away to face the ceiling, not saying a word. Donghyuck seemed to notice the way you got all tense and rigid so he laced your fingers with his, bringing your knuckles to his lips. “There’s only you now, you know that, right? For me, there’s only you.”

 You nodded but only so slightly, still felt uneasy. You knew that it wouldn’t be fair to be mad at him about this—it’s not like he was cheating behind your back. And he’d lived for more than a century, of course, he had plenty of both romantic and sexual relationships. You were just upset because he was your first and that meant the whole world to you, but you weren’t even included in the top 10—or 100, even.

Donghyuck eyed you in concern and carefully wrapped an arm around your stomach, fingertips trailing around your navel. “Did you realize that,” he began, voice soft and tender, “a few months before we started dating, I stopped bringing girls to our apartment? I switched entirely to blood bags to the point I had to spend all my money. Do you know why I did that?”

You turned to him, snuggling close but still wasn’t brave enough to make eye contact. “Why?”

He had his lips brushed against your temple as he spoke. “Because it felt wrong. Every time I got together with someone, I thought about you. When I drank their blood, I thought about how your blood would taste like in my mouth. When I held them, I thought about what kind of face would you make as you writhed underneath me. When they moaned out my name, I thought about how hot would it be if it tumbled out from your lips instead. You, with that cute voice of yours.”

You blushed from ear-to-ear. “I-Is that so…”

He smiled a little, probably noticing how loudly your heart was thumping inside your chest. “I had to stop entirely when I accidentally moaned your name during sex. Man, she was so pissed.”

You nearly fainted from the sheer embarrassment. “How can you say these things so nonchalantly?”

“I’m actually pretty shy about it.” And this time he did sound sheepish. He lowered his head down, lips lingering close, nearly grazing the vein that beats faintly under your neck. “So don’t think about my past too much, because I’ve been thinking about you—only you—for a while now.”

You shivered, his lips ghosting over your skin. “Cool.”

Donghyuck pulled away, scrunched up his nose. “Cool?”

“Yeah.”

“I literally just poured all my feelings out to you, embarrassingly so, and your response is cool?”

You gave him your signature ignorant shrug. “Well, I’ve known for a while that you had a crush on me. I’m flattered. Thanks.”

“You’re so—” He attacked you with playful pokes and tickles, hands fumbling all over the place until you both ended up falling from the bed, laughing against each other’s mouth.

***

“Babe, you ready?”

You push your door open at the sound of his call, still struggling with tidying your bangs so they can frame your face perfectly. You’re about to go on a date with your boyfriend and this is the first time he actually asks you out properly. You’ve gone out many times with him before but it was always either to shop for groceries or have dinner in the cheap Chinese restaurant nearby.

So you kind of dressed up all the way, curling your hair and tying it up in a perfect ponytail—because you know just how much he likes seeing your neck exposed—wearing minimal make-up but with bright red lipstick, and a matching red off-shoulder dress that highlights your collarbones. 

“Do you think this is too much?” You ask from the bathroom, still busy trying to put on your earring. When you’re done, you walk back to the living room, approaching his spot. “You haven’t told me where we’re going so I’m not sure what to wear—” You catch the way he’s looking at you, wide-eyed with lips parted in awe. “W-what is it? Are you thirsty again?”

He blinks himself awake. “For blood? Nope. For you?” He’s not subtle at all with his staring, eyes going up and down your body, committing every feature to his memory. “Parched.”

“If you’re gonna be this embarrassing the whole date, I’d choose to stay home, thank you very much.”

“What, can’t a man appreciate his girlfriend’s beauty?”

“Sometimes just a simple, you look nice, is enough.”

He chuckles softly, closing the space between you and running his thumb along your cheekbone as he cups your face. “I want to kiss you and ruin your lipstick so badly,” he murmurs, eyes almost glowing. The way he brings his lower lip between his teeth as he stares at you in a daze makes your stomach flip in delight. “But you look very beautiful right now and it would be a waste. I’ll wait until the end of our date. Then, I’ll savor every bit of you.” He leans in to whisper close in your ear, his smirk grazing against your earlobe. “In any way possible.”

You yank him by the hand, pulling him towards the door. “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go.”

You can’t wait until your date is over.

***

Donghyuck reeks with charms and allures. You notice that, certainly, but unfortunately for you, so do other people because he is gathering attention from every woman he passes by on the street—even some men. He’s just walking along the pavements in his black ripped jeans and denim jacket, but he makes it look like a fashion show. He’s deep in concentration, thumb sliding on his phone’s screen as he searches for the location of the place he’s planning to take you. His brooding look makes you swoon but you try to be subtle about it, unlike those females who pass by, practically undressing him with their eyes.

You’re uncomfortable and jealous but you try to keep yourself composed. “Is it far from here?”

“Just a couple of blocks,” he answers, smiling as he tucks his phone back. “Are you hungry? Do you want to stop by and grab some dinner before we go?”

You’ve lost your appetite. “I’ll eat on our way back.”

“You sure?”

You respond with a nod but he seems worried. You notice some people whispering behind your back, questioning with a mocking tone about your status with this God-like male in front of you and you couldn’t help but to sigh. “Can we go now?” Your tone sounds a bit cold even to your own ears, and you feel sorry because this is not how you planned your date night to go.

Donghyuck must have noticed the silent chatters, or at least, the hurting look on your face. Taking a hold of your wrist, he pulls you forward until you stumble to his chest and kisses your lips. You swear you could hear people gasping at that, but you don’t care. You don’t care that he’s kissing you in public, on the side of the street, with his hand secured tightly around your waist. You don’t care if your lipstick is ruined, though he kisses you softly to make sure it stays intact. And you don’t care if people are questioning his sanity for dating a girl like you because Donghyuck belongs to you and he’s proud of showing that to the world.

When he lets you go, your lips are curving up into a grin, cheeks reddening both from the cold and his touch. “You have lipstick on you,” you say, tiptoeing on your feet to brush the stain off his lips with your thumb, and Donghyuck, with that sexy, mischievous twinkle in his eyes, parts his lips, playfully placing your thumb between his teeth just a second before he lets it slide away. Your head is about to explode from how sexy he just looked and he chuckles at the sight, pecking you on the forehead once. “Let’s go, baby.” He strokes your hair before he lets his hand slide down to your waist again, walking next to you with your body pressed close to his side.

It turns out your boyfriend is taking you to a photo studio which is quite huge for a normal photo shoot. As you see so many staff, models, and photographers around you, walking back-and-forth in the studio to make sure everything is in order, you begin to realize. “Are you—”

“Yep,” he beams at you, proudly. “I’ve got a modeling gig.” 

Your eyes grow wide because by the brand logo that you see plastered all over the place—on the back of the chairs, the doors, embossed in articles of clothing—it’s one of the top designer brands in the country. “What—how—” You’re flabbergasted. “How did you get this job?”

“I got cast on the street.” He simply shrugs. “It’s a one-time gig though, so nothing serious. But it is my first time so I’m pretty nervous about it, which is why I brought you along.” He swats the bangs out of your eyes, looking apologetic. “I’m sorry. This is probably not how you imagined our date night was going to be.”

“No, but this is better.” Your eyes are scanning the place. “Look at all these models! They’re so beautiful—Oh my God, I know him!” You almost jump on your feet at the sight of a famous model getting his hair fixed by his stylist. “Isn’t he the one who was on the cover of W Magazine last month? Oh my God.”

“Hey, hey, hey, hey,” Donghyuck pulls you back by the fabric of your dress. “I didn’t invite you to ogle at another man’s body.”

“It’s not his body, Hyuck. It’s his face, look at him!” You gesture toward the man with a sigh. “Look at those cheekbones, sweet Lord. His jawline has me feeling like sliced bread.”

Donghyuck snorts loudly. “Are you an idiot?”

“Might as well be. Can you get me his autograph?”

“I’m leaving.” And he really walks away, just like that, with his hands tucked inside the pocket of his jeans, and a scowl on his face.

“Wait, I’m sorry,” you hurriedly say, taking a hold of his arm. “Good luck with the photo shoot. I know you’d be amazing.”

He’s still not happy when he looks at you but he sighs, patting your head. “Thanks. You can wait for me in the hall. I think they have snacks and stuff.”

“Can’t I just linger around here?”

“To see me or to see him?”

“To see you, of course.” There’s no hesitation in your voice. “Seeing him is just a bonus. You’re my number one, Hyuck.”

He leers at you with suspicious eyes, still not one hundred percent pleased or convinced. “Well, I have to go. I need to change and get my make-up done.”

“Wait.” you hold him back again. “Do these people here know you’re, you know, not human?”

“No, and I intend to keep it that way. So, if you could just not mention it again, that’d help.”

You nod but when he’s about to part ways again, you reach out to him once more. 

“What?” He whines, groaning. “I really have to—”

You stand on your toes and interrupt him with a kiss, hands winding around his neck. It’s just your lips meeting his for a few seconds and nothing more, but it’s still painted thickly with passion and desire.

“Good luck,” you whisper with a shy smile. He’s left a bit dazed but eventually nods his head. When he walks away, he rubs his nape, a gesture he tends to make whenever he’s flustered. You grin proudly to yourself. He’s wrapped around your fingers just as much as you are around his.

After half an hour has passed, you see Donghyuck walking back into the studio in a new outfit that makes him look so goddamn attractive that it literally steals your breath away.  He’s wearing all black, from his turtle neck shirt, his khaki pants, his suit, even his hair looks somehow darker. He’s absolutely gorgeous, even the male photographer has to stop and stare for a good few seconds before he remembers to adjust his lenses.

Donghyuck poses naturally in front of the camera and it startles you how a simple pose could look so beautiful when it’s done by him. He unbuttons his suit, lets it falls off his shoulder, his eyes half-lidded as he stares into the camera—everything that he does reeks masculinity and femininity at the same time and you don’t know if that’s even possible. You’ve known that his body proportions are insane but this outfit just highlights every inch of his body that needs to be appreciated. 

A staff hands him a rose and he brings it close to his face, his lips grazing against the petal—making him look like a painting. His usual cheeky grin has vanished without a trace and the way he stares back at the camera—both enchanting and challenging—sends shivers down your spine.

Fuck, how is he so hot?

Two hours long photoshoot feels like a minute to you and you’re feeling a bit dazed when it’s over. Donghyuck walks over to your spot, pushing up his long sleeves to his elbows. “Hey,” he says, smiling a little. “Sorry, did I make you wait long?”

“Oh… Umm…” You’re blushing and you don’t know why. You’re just suddenly overwhelmed with his presence. “Y-you were…” Fantastic. Breathtaking. Absolutely gorgeous. Please take me home and have me as dessert. “You were good.”

“Good?” He raises an eyebrow, making you gulp. “That’s it?”

“I…” Your fingers are curling against the fabric of your dress. “You were great.”

Donghyuck seems a bit amused until he realizes something. He leans close, making you flinch when he takes a sniff near your neck. “Why do you smell like you’re…” A smirk creeps up his face. “Aroused?”

Yes, okay, just kill me. Kill me now. “I’m not—”

“Seems like someone is enjoying this photoshoot too much.”

You’re about to combust into flames. “Are you done? Can we go home now?”

“You want to go home? And do what?” He bites the corner of his lip as he tries to contain his grin. “Enlighten me, Baby.”

He’s seducing you, torturing you, and he’s enjoying every second of it. “Fine, then. I’ll walk home by myself.”

But as you turn around on your heels, Donghyuck grabs you by the wrist and pulls you forward to match his step, going in the opposite direction of where you were planning to go. “Wha—where are you taking me?!”

He shushes you quickly and makes a turn, barging into one of the changing rooms that models often use to get prepared for the photoshoot. The room is bright with fluorescent lights, though not as spacious as you’d thought it would be, but the only thing that matters now is that it’s unoccupied. 

Donghyuck kicks the door closed with his feet before he pushes you against it, lips meeting you in a searing kiss as he locks the door behind you. “Your scent,” he breathlessly says against your mouth, running his tongue along your lower lip. “It’s so thick with lust.” If it’s as thick as the teasing tone in his voice, you’re so doomed. “Are you okay, baby?”

“Shut up.” You kiss him, fisting the fabric of his shirt before you pull it off his head. Your hands immediately go down to his chest, caressing his stomach before they circle his neck again. “If we’re gonna do this then hurry up and fuck me.”

A small laugh reverberates from his chest. “So aggressive. And to think you were so shy yesterday.”

“Shut up. Does sex usually involve this much talking?”

“With me, it does.” He purrs against your ear, tugging your earlobe between his teeth. “Because then I get to see more of your expressions.” His tongue feels hot and dangerous on your sensitive skin. “You’re so fucking cute when you blush, but you being aggressive like this isn’t too bad.”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up.” You’re already dying from shame and his unnecessary comments only fuel it even more. “Are we really—” you gasp when he pushes you up the wall, and you quickly tangle your legs around his waist for balance, the back of your red heels pressing against his spine. “Are we really doing this? Here?”

“Of course, we’re doing this.” His hands are sliding dangerously along your thighs, pushing the fabric of your dress up your body until it pools around your waist. “I’ve been wanting to do this ever since you laid your eyes on him.”

“What—” You throw your head back, making a soft thud when it meets the door. Hopefully, no one catches that. “You mean that model? I was just kidding—”

“Kidding?” He slips two of his fingers inside his mouth, coating them with saliva and it’s so sensual, the sight of him, that only seeing him do that already makes you feel sinful. He slides his hand down between your legs, wet fingers immediately finding their way to your heat from the side of your lingerie. “I don’t think it was funny.” He inserts his first digit, making you sink your nails into his shoulders. “Do you, baby?”

You’re breathing hard, temple pressing against his. When he feels you stretched enough, he adds another one. “Baby, I asked you a question,” he chuckles, scissoring his fingers inside you. “Do you think it was funny?”

“No.” You shake your head, a sob nearly escapes your lips.  The mixed feelings of being dominated, teased and pleasured at the same time make you feel lightheaded, and he hasn’t even drunk from you yet. “I-I’m sorry.”

“Aaw, but I’m not mad,” he coos, kissing you softly on the corner of your lips. “I’m a bit pissed-off but certainly not angry.”

His words are doing very little in reassuring you but you’re too busy focusing on the way he’s pumping his fingers in and out, his thumb rubbing fervently against your clit. “Hyuck—”

“Sssh.” He perks up, his movements stop abruptly. “Someone’s here.”

You mouth What?! in horror, about to shove him away so you can land back on your feet and fix your clothes and hair but he keeps you still. He presses his body harder, one hand holding the back of your thigh while his other one still lingers near your lingerie. There’s absolutely no way you can fight his superhuman strength.

Within the next few seconds, you can hear the clicking of heels meeting the marbled floor and you hold your breath, fingers shaking but the rest of your body is still. Donghyuck keeps his gaze on you, his eyes unwavering as he tries to read the situation.

“Hey, it’s locked. Why is it locked?”

“I don’t know. It wasn’t locked before.”

Two female voices can be heard from exactly behind you and you’re about to break out in a cold sweat. If you breathe just a little bit harder, they probably can hear you. Donghyuck notices the way your breathing tatters and with a gleam in his eyes, he smirks.

And moves his fingers again.

Your hand immediately shifts from his shoulder to his wrist, trying desperately to keep it from moving. Your eyes are throwing ice daggers as you mouth don’t you fucking dare to him but his sly grin only gets wider. He leans in to pepper sultry kisses on your jawline, up to your ear, whispering, “Keep your voice down.” And though he speaks reassurance, his fingers are not.

He slides one between your folds, tentatively pressing into your heat before he drags it back, heel continues to add pressure to your clit. It’s when he inserts the digit back into you that you begin to flinch. He helps muffle your voice down with his kisses first but when you truly need to be silenced, he pulls away, enjoying the view of your cheeks turning scarlet, bangs sticking to your temple with sweat, and adding another finger into your warmth.

“So cute,” he whispers, his eyes are starting to glow. You notice that their color changes depending on what he’s feeling.  They glow when he’s thirsty, that much is obvious, but there’s also one other condition. The more he’s aroused, the brighter they get, almost turning topaz entirely, and soon his cuspids will follow, extending to take a bite. He still has his fangs retracted, but his eyes are gradually gleaming brighter as he takes in your expressions. “So pretty…” The way he praises you is almost like he’s in a haze. “I love seeing you like this.”

“What to do? My purse is inside.”

“Shall we ask around for the key?”

You’re so scared, terrified beyond belief and Donghyuck is savoring every moment of you trying to contain your moans. “Aaw, they’re going to open the door,” he murmurs against your ear. “What do you think we should do, baby?”

Fuck if I know. Your eyes are closed shut, your fingers curling against his nape. He licks a stripe up your neck, moaning softly from the desire to fill his mouth with your blood. “I know one thing for sure,” he swallows, wetting his lip. “I need to make you come first.”

Donghyuck always lives up to his promise. He knows what he’s doing and it feels extremely pleasant having his fingers deep inside you but you can’t give yourself into the pleasure entirely from the fear of being caught. But as he goes faster, now focusing more on playing with your clit, you feel fire coursing through your veins, loosening the knot in your stomach, and out of panic, you bite him hard on the part where his neck meets his shoulder, muffling your moan as you come onto his hand.

You can feel him flinching, a low grunt erupting from the back of his throat but you’re too dazed to notice. When the aftertaste of your orgasm starts to decrease, Donghyuck lets you down to the floor. You have to keep your hold on him as your legs wobble under your weight and when you look up, you see him with his fangs fully extended, his eyes glowing as bright as the sun.

“Hyuck—“ He bites into your skin without permission, and he does it fiercely, sloppily, that your blood begins to taint your dress. You’re grateful that it’s at least in the same color as your blood so a few drops won’t be noticed. The rush of endorphin calms your nerves, almost leaving your senses dull and you slide down to the floor, your spine still pressed against the door.

When he pulls away, he lets his tongue runs along his lower lip, wiping it clean from your blood. His eyes are strictly golden.

“My turn now.”

***

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

chained, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader

summary: You ever fuck someone wearing a collar and a chain... that's attached to the hot girl with the demonic grin? No? Just Min Yoongi? In his defense, he really likes a bad bitch.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; yup, there are Marilyn Manson and Slipknot references; D/s smut (fem reader, black leather collars and a chain leash, [a lot of] choking, saliva everywhere, handjob, m-receiving oral, slight edging, hair pulling, penetrative sex); non-idol!AU - rapper, sub!Yoongi x goth (also kinda his manager? lol) dom!reader; kinda PWP; Yoongi's POV

--

feel like I'm hexed, yeah, that bitch bad collar on her neck and her ass real fat

Most people would say, “Nah, dude, don’t mess with girls like that.”

Most people would say, “She’s fucking scary, why the hell would you think she’s hot?”

Most people would, but Min Yoongi wasn’t most people.

“I want to play a game.”

He tilted his head. “Then let’s play a game.”

She grinned, wild hair over her left eye. “Yeah?”

The first time he met her, he was at a bar and a woman was chatting him up, engaging him in conversation he didn’t want to be in. Fuck. The only reason he came was to accompany his friends, but they were all much more extroverted than he was and had already wandered off with potentials of the night. He didn’t want a potential. He just wanted a damn shot of whiskey and then he was going to slink into a corner and pretend nobody existed.

He minimized his responses to, “Mhm” and “Yeah,” but the woman wasn’t getting the hint and the bartender was busy. Sigh.

All of a sudden, a short man with a white, mannequin-like mask appeared. The white mask was painted with black streaks. He had stringy, long black and red hair and was wearing black coveralls.

Yoongi and the woman jumped away from each other, disconcerted by the appearance of the strange, tiny man.

“Bartender! Hey, real quick, can you get my friend here a drink?”

And then, fuck.

Black leather jacket, silver hardware. Tight fitted white top, so shredded the black bra underneath was visible. Short black pleated skirt. Ripped tights. Thick black boots with chains. Yoongi felt his eyes widen, looking up and down at this curvy frame. Wild hair, lush tits, juicy thighs, an ass that could put anyone in a trance with the way those hips swayed. Dark makeup, playful grin with red-stained lips.

A black choker with at least eight-centimeter spikes.

A pure white contact lens in her left eye.

“Hey, you can’t cover your face here,” a patron interrupted. “That’s creepy.”

The small man in the mask didn’t reply. The woman in black, however, swatted a hand like she was whacking away a fly.

“He’s part of the entertainment. Buzz off.”

“Oh, yes, you’re the band’s drummer, right?” The bartender rushed over. “Sorry, sorry. What will it be?”

The masked man said nothing.

“Double shot whiskey on the rocks,” the woman replied for him. “Did I get it right this time, Hana?”

A single nod from that stringy head.

“What about you?”

Yoongi jumped, startled the woman in black leather was addressing him. She cocked her head to the confused bartender. “You’ve been standing here ignored for the past ten minutes. I noticed because I was waiting for the guys to suit up to bring Hana to the bar.” She waved her hand. “Come on. Give me your order. I got you.”

“O… Oh. Same thing.”

She nodded. “Ya heard him. And don’t just only pay attention to cute girls, bartender.”

The bartender’s cheeks flushed. “A-Ah, I apologize! I’ll have them ready right away.”

The woman sighed and shook her head, completely ignoring the chatty woman who was making eyes at Yoongi, trying to get near him again. Yoongi pretended not to notice, stepping closer to the short, creepy man. The white mask didn’t move. The woman leaned down a bit because the man was shorter than she was with her height and platform boots.

“Don’t be takin’ nothing with the whiskey now. I’m treatin’ ya,” she chuckled under her breath.

Yoongi noticed the slight satoori. It made her voice a little deep and gruff.

“Shut it.”

She snickered. “Made you talk, Hana.”

The white mask went back to being silent.

She sighed and stood back up turning her attention to Yoongi. “Sorry about my friend here. He doesn’t like talking or people. I’m trying to get him to be more personable. Is it working?”

Yoongi blinked.

“Uh.”

Damn, every time she smiled, he felt a thrill shoot up his spine. White teeth showing, pink tongue peeking out between them.

It just seemed a little psychotic, a little mischievous, and a lot sexy.

“I know it’s not working. Can’t say I didn’t try.”

The masked man might as well have been a mannequin with how still he was.

“You’re his manager?” Yoongi found himself asking.

She shrugged. “Kind of? I actually just own the studio space the band records. But I like coming to the gigs sometimes if I can. Good excuse to get a little drunk, eh? Plus, I’m trying to find musicians to rent out the other spaces.”

Fuck.

Was it his lucky day or what?

“I’m looking for a studio space to record my music, actually.”

Her eyebrows raised. “No shit? You wanna talk some business?”

Oh, they talked business to bass and drums thundering the bar.

Later, they talked about some… other things too. What could he say? Yoongi liked a bad bitch. She wore leather, she owned cluster of studio spaces – “well, they ain’t mine, they’re my dad’s, but he’s never here, he’s off gambling and chasing booty, I think” – she gave him a fair price, and she loved to suck dick.

Yoongi didn’t find out about that last bit until later.

Right now, she was clipping the end of a silver chain to the collar around his neck.

It was heavy, probably metal. The collar he was wearing was thick black leather, with a steel ring resting against his collarbones. Yoongi was pretty sure she was doing a number on him. He wore a lot of black, yeah. He liked leather jackets too. But being around her presence was messing with his head and he was pretty sure he was being influenced by her energy. He used to hate his eye shape and his dark circles, but when he saw himself in the mirror with her tangled around him, riding his dick, he found himself thinking he didn’t look so bad after all. He looked good standing with the woman with the white contact lens and the demonic grin.

Maybe he was a little crazy, but everyone was a little crazy. Yoongi wasn’t worried about something like that.

Right now, she licked her teeth with that lithe, pink tongue of hers.

The other end of the chain was connected to the collar around her neck.

“You wanna play?” she drawled.

Fuck, he loved that shit. Her voice got slightly deep and throaty when she spoke in satoori. He wasn’t sure if she noticed it or not. It must be from her father. She mentioned that she had been raised by her dad – “sporadically, he liked to travel and, by travel, I mean gamble and chase ass, although surprisingly he didn’t come back with more kids, so I guess he learned his lesson” – but she was kind of the same way.

Not the gambling bit.

He didn’t really mind it though. She didn’t try to hide anything and he encouraged her to be herself. Plus, no one was getting the treatment he got. Yoongi was pretty sure about that, because when she fucked around, she did it in public. He had to be the one to tell her to take it upstairs and go for the throat.

Alright, not the throat. The dick.

In some way, Yoongi felt that was her way of asking if he approved, because she never took it upstairs and out of his sight unless he gave her the go ahead.

Right now, her tongue extended and wiggled in the air, glossy and slick with her saliva.

He smirked, open-mouthed and with a flick of tongue at the edge of his teeth.

She gripped the chain and yanked him by the neck to her face, crashing that demonic grin to his lips.

Like an injection or a spell, it gave him a rush, the firm leather snapping against his neck, chained to her, both wearing the collars, but she was always in control, always, and he liked it like that, liked the way she traced his lips with her powerful tongue, her saliva his aphrodisiac, before she captured his lips and rolled her body into his lap, skin to skin, moving like a snake, his gasp against her devouring mouth, her bare ass sliding on his thigh, fuck, so sexy, so soft, so bouncy, one hand on his face and another on his shoulder, fingers spread out and tendons flexing.

He liked to say she was the angel that held up her blinding halo with devil horns.

She yanked on the chain and Yoongi sucked in a breath, closing one eye as she licked his cheek, ending with a kiss on his brow. Cold air chilled his wet skin, making him shiver.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ hot, Yoongi.”

Pretty sure neither of them believed in a god but it got the point across.

He raised his hand and she smacked his wrist down, pinning it to the bed.

“Nuh uh.”

Yoongi wasn’t really expecting her to let him.

He raised his other hand. It was immediately swatted down onto the bed, her eyebrow cocking.

“Naughty, naughty.”

He cocked an eyebrow back, defying.

She leaned down and snatched the chain in her mouth, tugging on it with teeth and neck, narrowing her eyes. The white contact lens on her left eye gleamed under her lashes. She always wore it except right before sleeping. He once asked her why and she had shrugged.

“Mental security, I guess.”

Now, she growled like an animal.

“Down.”

She looked like she was about to headbutt him. He wouldn’t put it past her.

He lowered himself slowly, her mouth holding the chain taut until he was laying on the bed. She grinned, pleased at his obedience. Yoongi was quite sure that she was probably the closest being to a succubus that he would ever encounter with the violent thrill of arousal she was giving him with those plush lips and white teeth around the silver chain, pink tongue circling around the metal to tease him.

Maybe he was the crazy one for being turned on by it.

She dropped the chain on his chest. He flinched, the wet, heavy metal thudding onto his sternum, right against his pounding heartbeat. She rubbed her thigh against his balls and hardening cock, raising her head, chain following, higher, higher, letting go of his hands, arching her back, tits up, until it was fully taut between his neck and hers, the sides of the collars forcefully digging into his neck and hers. Yoongi did not lift his head from the bed to reduce the tension. Her devilish smile widened. A chain tug-of-war between collar to collar, both of them choking the other.

She lifted her hand and licked her palm, saturating it with saliva.

She reached down and wrapped her long fingers around his stiff length.

Didn’t say he could touch her though, so Yoongi didn’t.

“Think you can last longer than last time?”

He clenched his jaw. “Maybe.”

She pulled harder and he locked his neck and shoulders, clutching the sheets with a sharp gasp, pleasure shooting up his core, firm, strong strokes up and down his cock, fuck, fuck, every damn time, that second of cold as her saliva soaked his skin and then it warmed up fast to hot, slippery ecstasy, hard and getting harder, his pre-cum mixing with her saliva, staring at her hard nipples and juicy hips, knees around one of his thighs, shaking her ass when she noticed him looking, changing the pace, addicted to the feeling of her hands. He could feel the bones and the hard muscle of her grip and, sure, that didn’t sound sexy, but it felt incredible, adding stimulation in that inescapable hold and paired with slickness, choking his cock slightly and he craved every second of it, thighs tense and hard, growling in his throat as he dug his head into the mattress, pulling the chain for all it was worth, lightheaded now, the leather cutting in, probably leaving a mark, locking eyes with mischievous orbs and an impish smirk, the sides of her collar also cutting into the sides of her neck, choking herself as she was choking him while jacking him off.

Black haze threatened the edges of his vision.

He was going to pass out or cum. Yoongi didn’t care which happened first.

“F… Fuck!”

Yoongi snapped his jaw shut and shot up her forearm and down his length, strained groan of her name leaking past his teeth, bolts of pleasure invading his nerves all the way up to his scalp, blossoming into an erotic haze. She snapped her head forward. Oxygen flooded his brain, his jaw going slack with a moan, his eyes rolling back, high so high his whole body shuddered, barely registering her movement, hearing the lewd slurps of her drinking up his cum.

Wet.

Hot.

“Shit!”

Her mouth enveloped his twitching length, burying it deep into her throat, slathering tongue and satisfied hiss, chain clinking against his stomach and hitting his trembling balls, twisting her head so the chain wouldn’t cause any damage to them as she began to suck, flashes of tongue flickering out of the edges of those plush lips, grazing his crotch and scrotum, pointedly staring at him with an arched eyebrow.

She bounced her hips when she noticed him looking, shaking her ass as she sucked his dick.

Yoongi grinned.

His vision was barely focusing, trying to recover from orgasm in the midst of the intoxicating pleasure of her soft and tight mouth, tongue rubbing under the head of his cock, causing it to jerk and swell in the back of her throat and then she thrust it all the way back in there, taking him impossibly deep, sinfully moaning around his cock, vibrating it with lust. He glanced at her hands, fingers spread out and joints locked, tendons flexed, pointed black fingernails clawing into the sheets.

The heat flaring over his abdomen and hips was rising to his limit once more.

Yoongi panted her name, hoarse and breathless, realizing his Daegu satoori was suddenly more prominent in his disheveled state.

“I’m gonna cum–”

She popped her mouth off his cock and he snapped his teeth, snarling.

“You bitch.”

She grinned, wiggling her tongue, thick plops of saliva dripping down and hitting his flinching hips and throbbing cock, the head an angry purple-red from being so roughly stimulated after orgasm. The white contact gleamed alongside the devious glint in her right eye, black pupils blown out, a little psychotic, a little mischievous, and a lot sexy.

It didn’t matter who was on top because she knew she was always on top.

To be clear, Yoongi didn’t take shit from anyone without a fight. It got him in trouble sometimes, but this particular brand was trouble was the kind he liked. She gave him a long period of two seconds to roll the condom down before tangling one hand in the metal chain and the other in his black hair, pulling both in opposite directions. He hissed dangerously, plunging his hard cock into the wet, waiting heat, scorched by her roughness and his desire, one of her legs on his shoulder and the other around his waist, smacking their bodies together with violent force.

The tip of her tongue traced her teeth, grinning demonically.

“Come on, you said you were gonna play the game with me, Yoongi,” she chuckled, naughtily mocking him, voice deep and rough from her satoori.

“Let’s see if you can keep up,” he growled in kind, low and gravelly.

She pulled on the collar much harder than his hair, but both were equally arousing, prickling pain on his scalp and circulation cut short once again, brief flashes of oxygen bleeding through with his aggressive thrusts, the excess chain knocking against her collarbones, just another layer of sound along with slapping hips and squelching juices, her velvet walls clenching around him with every descent, not going fast so he could last, burying deep and hitting her hard. She winced, guttural growl at the base of her throat and the side of his lips quirked up.

“Too much?” he taunted.

“I’ll tell you when it’s too much,” she grunted, jerking her hips up and brutally squeezing the head deep inside.

“Fuck…”

He knew she wouldn’t let him do anything she didn’t want, so he kept going, her wrist flicking up with every thrust, leather collar snapping into his skin, thinning his breath to gasps at the stinging pain, the hand in his hair releasing him, messy black strands invading his vision, but he had no time to complain, groaning as her nails dug into his back and dragged up, inflamed hot lines that shot into his system and fed his adrenaline. His fists bunched the sheets, locking his shoulders, clenching his jaw, flexing his neck, and now he was being choked again, consistently this time, oxygen thinning out once more, barely able to keep his eyes open.

Her smile sent thrills up his spine and they split at the base of his head, tendrils of vicious desire numbing all sensations except lust, gluttonous for the pain that nourished more pleasure, greedy for everything she forced him to take, too prideful to ask her to loosen her hold, desperate not to give in to her wrath, usually slothful but now using every fiber of his strength to push himself to the limit, high getting higher knowing that anyone would be envious of how good he got it from that fiendish playful grin and hot delicious body under him, collared together in joined sin.

She let out a low moan, basking in him, feeding his need to satisfy hers.

“You’re so fuckin’ hot, Yoongi.”

He managed to get out half of a breath, staring into those irises, one real, one covered in white.

“Fuck, your voice gets me off every time,” he hissed.

He slammed his hips down and she clamped around his entire length, releasing the chain, both of their heads tipping back, his in the air and hers into the pillows, moans in unison as he shot into the condom and she released onto his twitching length and skin, coating him with slickness. The scent of sex permeated the air, his previous orgasm soaked into the sheets already and hers smearing with it as their hips descended, his throbbing cock pulsed by her flinching walls, her thighs tense around his waist and his hard ones against her ass, making sure to lean forward so he didn’t fall out, savoring every second of their joined bodies.

The hotel room was certainly getting some important use.

Yoongi remembered he had been annoyed when she said he should rent one since the potential gig was rather far away and transportation so late at night was going to be a bitch. He almost didn’t do it, but she rolled her eyes and booked it anyway, triumphant when he sold out the venue. Not a huge venue, but bigger than he had ever performed before.

He still said she had to make it up to him for making him travel farther than he originally wanted.

As usual, Yoongi was not disappointed.

“Housekeeping is gonna be pissed,” she chuckled. “Smells like sex.”

“I don’t give a shit.”

“How’s your throat?”

“Pretty sure rapping strains the inside of my throat, not the outside.”

She chuckled. “Now you hurt all over.”

“Good.”

Yoongi closed the distance and kissed that smirk, metal chain sandwiched between their hot, sweaty skin, the steel rings of the black leather collars clinking against each other.

--

masterpost

-

the lyrics in the beginning are from hot demon b!tches near u!! by CORPSE ft night lovell

[bizarrebaby]

Untouched

Pairing: Pero Tovar/Virgin!Reader

Work Count: 3.2k

Summary: You and Pero spend your first night together, which is your first night with anyone.

Warnings: you guys have penis in vagina sex. Some descriptions/mentions of violence, reference to painful loss of virginity, but we all know Pero’s too good to do that to you

You were a walking contradiction. Nothing was more confusing or intriguing to Pero Tovar than how you managed to exist in these times.

When he’d been introduced to you (it was generous to call it an introduction, seeing as Tovar more or less refused to acknowledge you at the time) he saw you the way he saw most everyone: an annoyance at best, a punishment from god at worst. When he glanced at you, he saw just a little thing, a girl who ought to be at home, out of her depths.

He first beheld your beauty through a veil of bloodshed. On the battlefield you had no equal. People throughout his travels often equated grace to beauty, but in observing you, Pero found that simply wasn’t so. You did not dance with the blade, like twirled silk. What you did was not akin to dancing. It was heavy and destructive, you took to you enemies with the crushing force of a mortar and pestle. You wielded the heavy and challenging kanabo, the force of which caved armor and shattered bones, man and beast alike. When you swung the heavy bat, you looked as a healer pounding medicine. The force itself was destructive, but it was delivered with the righteousness of someone who was preserving life.

You could not always use the kanabo, and you most certainly could not spar with it, for your opponents would be crippled by even a sporting blow. So Tovar sometimes saw your prowess with the sword, the staff, anything nearby. You made many an arrogant man eat their words.

Now, when he was to imagine a beautiful woman, he did not think of flowing locks and fair skin wrapped in silks. He saw sword-cut hair, an oversized tunic, the loosening laces on leather armor.

And beyond the fighting, you did not often make with revelry. Tense in the company of most others in your band of mercenaries, you kept away when they became excited. When you approached him, scowling as he wolfed down his food alone, he dreaded having to endure niceties, persuasions, and prattel from you, and had already decided to be as disagreeable as possible. To his utter surprise, you said nothing to him at all as you kept a couple of meters distance and ate your own meal. You did so day after day, and at first he had been paranoid that this was some plot at inching your way closer, that one day you would ruin this silence and reveal your true intentions. Until one night, Tovar found himself doing something unthinkable: initiating conversation. Or at least, speaking unprompted.

“You do not chatter like the others,” he stated almost mindlessly, not knowing what he was expecting by saying so.

“I try not to talk when I have nothing to say,” you admitted. You looked towards him, half illuminated by the distant, flickering fire.

He found himself studying every detail of your face from the corner of his eye. It was terrifying, for once wanting to observe and actually caring if he was noticed doing so.

“And,” you continued quietly, “they say you do not like to be disturbed.” That was a very kind way of rephrasing how he was often spoken of. In all likelihood, what you were actually told was probably more along the lines of ‘he’s a mean, miserable bastard who doesn’t like anyone’. Tovar didn’t know how he felt about your twisting such words into something that sounded… reasonable.

Understood.

“I don’t like being disturbed either.”

Now, when he was to imagine a beautiful woman, he did not think of lip rouge and silent, unnoticed steps, or curled, dark lashes, of coquettish smirks. He thought of a split lip, and the uneven pace of worn leather kicking at stray pebbles, of tired eyes rubbed with the back of the hand after looking into the fire too long, of the struggle to hold back a wide-mouthed yawn.

Through a few well placed miracles and the incessant meddling of others (William) the two of you had ended up together. And this was when Pero discovered what a contradiction you were. 

You knew death in every facet… except for la petite mort. 

While other girls snuck off with their paramours in experimental forays of intimacy, you were studying the blade, the staff, the bow, the kusarigama. Raised by a father and uncles who loved you, but did not know how to raise a young lady. Only how to raise a fighter. 

When you didn’t scare off any potential suitors, they certainly did. 

While younger than Pero, you were still fully grown, and had yet to even kiss a man until Pero had claimed your lips in a passionate fury on the night of his confession. 

Pero did not fancy himself a teacher, he saw himself as a taker, one with no patience for uncertainties and incompetence. But for you, he would be anything. And regardless of what he was, what you deserved was a gentle touch. Subtle, comforting, patient, and understanding. 

All words that had never been used to describe him. 

Over time, the kisses grew deeper, the touches flirted further beneath the clothes, until the night came where he held you against him in his bed, eyes begging for more as you looked to him for guidance. Never had he been so frightened at the thought of bedding a woman. He was a scoundrel with hands only fit for killing, and he was terrified of hurting you somehow.

But he’d be damned if anyone else took this honor.

With every piece of clothing he stripped your body of, you looked at him with such trust. He felt your heart beating in his rough palms, like the flutter of a bird’s wings. Never before had he been responsible for something so pure, so delicate. His relations before you were intimacies he had paid for in coin, encounters that didn’t require any gentleness on his part, where he cared little about any pleasure or pain besides his own. If he were to do one thing in his life with tact and delicacy, it would be this, he promised himself. 

“Tell me again, hermosa, how many before me have seen this beautiful body?”

“N-none. You’re the first, Pero.” 

He hums in satisfaction, running his hands up your stomach to cup your breasts. His thumbs stroke over the hardening peaks, causing a hitch in your breath as you shudder. 

“Oh, mi conejita, so sensitive,” he descends, taking a nipple in his mouth and sucking almost harshly for just a moment before pulling away, admiring how your breast shines with his spit. You squeak out a shaking moan. “I wonder if you’re this sensitive everywhere else? Don’t tell me. I’ll find out myself.”

You feel your cheeks heat at his words, feeling the urge to curl in on yourself and hide. But Pero keeps you bare to him as he lavishes eager attention on your breasts, enjoying the whines half-caught in your throat. By the time your nipples are perked and wet from Pero’s hot mouth, your blush has spread down to your collar. He pulls away slightly, gently guiding you to lay down. He takes your thighs in his strong hands and spreads them further apart. His thumbs spread your lips so get a good look at your pink, silky hole twitching with a need you’ve never known before. 

Your breath hitches as one of his fingers traces along your sensitive lips, brushing against your clit briefly before beginning to sink into you slowly. He rocks it back and forth gently while admiring the rise and fall of your chest, the way your eyelids flutter as you go between wanting to watch and being too bashful to. His thumb gently strokes your clit as he works to ease in another finger, and you tense harshly at the new intrusion. He leans down to press a few reassuring kisses against your neck.

“Relax, querida. Let me in.” He whispers, moving his lips to your mouth in an effort to distract you as he coaxes you open. His cock was heavy and hard against the laces of his trousers. You would see it soon, but Pero doesn’t want to overwhelm you. Not yet, anyways.

You breathe deeply in an attempt to relax your muscles as Pero’s fingers reach farther than yours ever could, and it feels as if he holds all of your bodily feelings in the palm of his hand. He continues to coo endearments against your neck to comfort you. 

“Bueno, bueno… you’ve gotten nice and wet for me, cariño, so good for me,” a smirk spreads across his face as he feels you tighten with his words. “Oh, you like it when I talk, niña?” He teases, increasing the pace as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, the tight circles he’s rubbing into your clit on the verge of driving you mad. 

He parts from your neck to take a look at your face in pleasure, and finds himself enraptured by the slight furrow of your brows and the way your eyelids flutter when he strokes the right part of your insides. Your quiet huffing and mewling, combined with the way your cunt is gripping at his fingers, has him more riled up than he’d like to admit. 

“Pero, I-I I think I’m gonna cum,” you whine, looking at him with pleading eyes. He bristles with pride as your hips move to meet the palm of his hand while chasing the pleasure he gives you. 

“Cum then, muñeca. Cum for me.”

The coil in your belly winds so tightly it snaps, and white hot pleasure floods your system. Pero groans as you cream on his fingers, feeling his cock throb harshly for the umpteenth time tonight. A tremor wracks your body as the mercenary continues rocking his fingers gently to help you ride out your climax. When they withdraw, he doesn’t hesitate to lick them clean, much to your embarrassment. The sight of his tongue against your slick on his hand gives you… ideas. Ideas that will have to wait until another night, maybe. 

He leans down to plant a chaste kiss to your lips before bringing you to sit up. He wants to see what else you’ve never done. Wants to know how curious you are. 

Pero places one of your hands (which feel so small in his) against the tent in his pants, encouraging you to explore his body the way you’ve so graciously allowed him to explore yours. His tunic is already off, but of course, you’ve seen men shirtless before. His cock feels hot and hard through his trousers, and the apprehension is probably clear on your flustered face, but Tovar finds this entire situation incredibly arousing. 

He’s no stranger to sex, but most of his previous sexual encounters had been paid for and, thusly, were with experienced (and sometimes jaded) partners. Though the size of his cock may have impressed a few, it had never been the first they’d seen, touched, or taken. This was different. 

His eyes never leave your face as you bite your lip, occasionally looking to him for approval as you move to undo the laces on his trousers. His eyes are lidded and dark with desire, and a smile crosses his face, a little more genuine than the usual smirks he throws in your direction. 

“Go on,” he urges, more gently than he knew himself capable. You finally slip down his waistband and smallclothes, and his cock lands heavy against his stomach as he reclines just slightly. You try to contain your startled gasp, attempting to seem less like the blushing virgin you clearly are. The way your lips part ever so slightly as you examine his red, leaking cock with nervous interest sends the mercenary reeling. 

Pero almost takes your hesitance as fear, which he’s determined to quell, before you finally reach your hands out to run them along the hard length, drawing a ragged groan from him.

For a moment, Pero feels the strongest compulsion to take charge of you. To guide your head down and order you to get his cock nice and wet before he takes you, to see tears prick at your eyes while you struggle to take his cock in your little mouth. 

But, somewhat regrettably, he remembers his first time with a woman well. He remembers the nerves burning against his skin like a thousand needles, the fear of performing well and doing things he’d never even imagined doing. He can only imagine that fear to be tenfold for a girl. You’ve spent years in the company of brash mercenaries, uncouth enough that they brag of their rough, bruising conquests. He knows the type. And what women you do meet often speak of intimacy with dread, or reflect on the pain of their first times.

You are one of the few things in Pero Tovar’s life that he has ever really cared for. And his greatest wish is to make you feel cared for. He has never known patience. But for you, he shall have it in spades. You’ll have plenty of time to play rough later. Or never, if that’s what you want.

Not to mention, he’s just about as hard as he’s ever been in his entire life, and he doubts he would last in your mouth, not with the passionate stare you’re giving him. You have, after all, always been a quick learner when it came to the sword. The way you start experimentally moving your hands along his cock confirm this, as he sighs in pleasure from the light pressure you’re giving him.

“This the first cock you’ve seen up close, hermosa?” you nod, and that teasing smile is once again set on his face. “What do you think of it?”

Your eyes widen just slightly at the question. He takes one of your hands and spits in it before letting you continue to stroke his cock, still patiently awaiting an answer.

“Are they all… like this?” Pero has a feeling he knows what you mean, but he wants you to say it.

“Like what, preciosa?” 

“Big.”

He chuckles quietly before cupping your chin in his hand and bringing you towards him for another bout of fervent kisses. In these moments, and most others, he looks at you and sees everything he’s ever wanted. He presses his forehead to yours when he finally parts from your lips.

“No, amor, not all,” he pauses in thought, somewhat uncharacteristically. “Are you worried?”

“...Yes.” The mercenary appreciates your honesty. For your entire life, you have had to be brave. He doesn’t want you to have to be brave with him. He’s never been trusted with something as precious as you. He calls your name with the same softness he feels for you.

“I will never hurt you,” he promises. “And…” his need causes him to struggle with the next part. He’s still not used to being sensitive, not used to caring so much. “We do not have to do this.”

Pero can see the fire ignite in your eyes, that same passion he sees when you get up right after being knocked down.

“I want to, Pero, I want to. Will you take care of me?” his eyes have their own fire now. He guides you down onto your back once again and leans over you. His cock leaks against the soft skin of your belly as he kisses up your neck, sucking in marks as he goes.

“Forever,” he swears.

Pero hoists himself up to look into your eyes as his cock catches at your entrance for the first time. He pushes himself in just barely, giving you a little more each time as he shallowly rocks into you. He watches, feeling lovestruck, as your breasts rise and fall with each short breath you take as he eases himself deeper into your heat. 

When Pero Tovar met you, he didn’t exactly respect you, but he wouldn’t have called you soft. You proved quickly that you were a better warrior than most men he’d met, and despite the roughness and inconveniences of mercenary life, you didn’t complain. In those early days, he’d have scarcely called you a woman at all. 

But here you were beneath him, soft and warm, and everything he’d never imagined he could be trusted with. Long ago you reached your hands into his hardened chest, with all of its armor, and gripped his heart with all of the hope and reverence of a devout finding comfort in a rosary. The vice of your wet cunt on his cock was an extension of that. An inescapable binding that he had no desire to leave. 

“You feel so good, querida, so tight and perfect against my cock.”

And so you pant, looking cherubic against the sheets with your splayed hair and flushed cheeks, lips plumped from Pero’s incessant kissing. The wet noises coming from between the two of you are obscene, and you love it. 

“So good for me, amor, taking everything I have to give you.”

He wouldn’t last long. Not waiting as long as he has, not with you looking, sounding, and feeling the way you do. His thrusts aren’t punishing, but they sure as hell aren’t gentle, as he can only restrain himself from wrecking you for so long. And from the way he’s hitting that place inside that makes you sing, you won’t last either.  

“Pero, I’m gonna— mmm I’m gonna cum again!” You keen, calling him back from his animalistic fervor. Pero stares into your eyes with a fire roaring behind his gaze. 

“I want you to soak my cock, hermosa. Cum. Give me your pleasure, let me make you mine!”

“God— oh, fuck, I love you—“ you pant as he feels you clench deliciously around him. Any hope he had of holding on has fled now. 

“Mi amor, let me cum in you, please, querida—“

“Please, do it Pero,”

You can feel the skin of his hips slap against yours as he pistons himself in and out of you, babbling about how beautiful you are and how good you feel until he can’t stand it anymore. 

“Te amo, te amo, te amo!” He growls, ceasing his hips as he fills you with everything he has. You jolt at the sensation before relaxing again, his hot cum painting your walls. His elbows stop him from collapsing right onto you, but he can feel your breasts brush against his chest with every breath the both of you take. 

He basks in this moment for a while longer before pulling himself out gently, resolving to clean the both of you properly later. Pero lets himself fall beside you in bed, still breathing a little heavily. 

“Come here, querida.”

Pero stares at the ceiling as your weight comes to rest against his chest, warm in ways he cannot describe. The arm around you tightens, as if he wishes to pull you further into him.

“Are you… do you feel alright, mi amor? I didn’t hurt you?”

“Never, Pero. I feel wonderful. Was it ok? For you, I mean. I know I’m… you’re probably not used to being with someone so inexperienced,” you trail off, feeling palpably insecure. He gently puts his hand beneath your chin to coax you into looking up at him from his chest.

“You don’t have to be anything more than what you are to be perfect for me, amor.”

Taglist:

Pedro Pascal: @auty-ren

From the preview post: @josepedropascal @tintinwrites @computeringturtle @kiwi-the-first​

[ticklytums]

It Begins With A Smile

(Luz runs into an unwanted visitor on a potion scavenging attempt, but things take an interesting, childish turn when a weakness is accidentally exposed and Golden Guard learns of a new way to mess with the human.

Warning: Contains fluff and the adorableness of two traumatized children getting to act like children and slowly giggle their way into friendship! Not intended to be GoldenLuz but can be if you want it to be)

“Crammity…”

Sure. It figured. Every time Luz was on her own she seemed to fall into some sort of terrible situation. And this one seemed to include warping mushrooms that she never seemed to be able to grasp before they vanished at her fingertips. Why did all these witch potions include the most unconventional, hard to get ingredients?

“Would you get over here!” Luz hissed as she clawed at one of the flighty mushrooms, before watching the thing vanish and appear once more inches from her. This wasn’t…technically legal, that the young witchling knew. Then again, being under Eda’s mentorship basically screamed ‘I do illegal things all the time!’ Warping mushrooms weren’t meant to be picked until they ripened some more, but…this potion called for ‘young shrooms.’

It’s fine. It could be worse.

“Ah, up to more mischief I see! Who knew a little human could be such trouble…”

And it just got worse.

Luz’s eyes slid shut in absolute dread. She refused to turn her head towards the source of the voice that was just radiating smug teenager energy. Nope, she wasn’t dealing with that jerk’s antics today. Forget the mushrooms. Eda could wait for her ingredients.

Picking up Eda’s staff, the witchling immediately turned around and started her path home—only to yelp as she nearly slammed face first into the Golden Guard.

“It seems you just can’t help being on the wrong end of the law, can you?” the smug prodigy sing-songed. “You know it isn’t legal to pick those mushrooms yet, right?”

“I’m NOT picking them!” Luz growled as she tried to step past the guard. “Now get out of my way.”

The older boy didn’t seem intent to do such, instead merely blocking the girl with his staff as she attempted to advance. He prodded her pointedly with his mechanical staff. “So what are you doing here then?”

As the staff made the blunt and yet gentle connection with her belly, Luz almost felt a squeak slip out. It took a moment to compose herself. “I don’t have to answer you.”

“Yeeees. You. Do!” the guard chirped and he punctuated each word with a light prod against her. Every time he did Luz seemed to suck in her breath and twitch. The prodigy blinked at the response, watching the human as she tensed from the jab of his staff, and looked like she was gritting her teeth quite a bit.

“Oh, what? Am I hurting you?” he scoffed disdainfully at the thought. Humans were pathetic, but Titan, he at least assumed the girl that stood up against Emperor Belos and took a couple good blows from both of them wasn’t so frail. He jabbed her lightly a few more times. “I know your kind is weak, but-“

He was cut off by the small giggling snort that burst from the teen before she could stop it, and she clasped a hand hurriedly over her mouth, before shoving the staff away with her other hand. “Would you knock it off!” Luz snapped, reining in control of her giggles.

The older boy tilted an eyebrow, perplexed. That wasn’t the reaction he expected to provoke… Curious, Golden Guard jabbed at her again, only this time he made the poke deliberately softer, and wiggled the end of the staff a bit. The ticklish jolt made Luz let off a laugh. And he did it again, smirking in delight when she kept trying to get away from it.

Well, that was…an interesting reaction. Living the life he had, Golden Guard hadn’t exactly been granted the luxury to engage in juvenile play, and he had little experience with tickling.

But that was about to change.

“Well, well, well…” the prodigy taunted the other indignant and increasingly nervous teenager. “What an interesting and may I say rather adorable development. You humans are just full of surprises, aren’t you?”

Luz finally snapped to attention and the guard had only a millisecond to react as balls of flames were tossed towards his face, crackling passed him. The boy effortlessly dodged them and his staff deflected a few icicles with a chuckle. His amusement was just fueling Luz’s annoyance.

“Oh now now,” the guard admonished teasingly as he simply avoided her little tantrum by holding her back with his staff. “No need to throw such a fuss, I’m just playing around!”

Luz gave a growl and shot a murderous glare as much as she could to the older kid. “And what after that? Going to cart me off to Emperor Belos, are you?”

“Hmm, well I suppose I should!” the boy said with a sigh as his maroon eyes sparkled mischievously under the golden mask. “But where would the fun be in that already, hm?” After all, he wasn’t done experimenting.

Luz growled and positioned an ice glyph on the ground, stepping upwards so she could launch up into the sky. The prodigy was impressed and barrel rolled out of target range as several fireballs singed the red grass. With a crimson flash he disappeared, and Luz let off a squeal as she felt a poke against her side.

“Would you-!” Furiously, the girl spun around—only to see the flickers of magic disappearing as he vanished again. And the moment she turned, he was back as his fingers ghosted over both sides.

A laugh tumbled out of the teenaged girl as her knees bent slightly in instinct and she furiously took a swipe—only to smack uselessly at empty air. “-fihihight me normally, you-you jerk!”

The Golden Guard appeared back in his original spot and gave an amused laugh. “Oh, I could…but it’s much more fun to mess with ya!” He watched the human sift through her pockets frantically.

“Well I’m not in the mood to be messed with!” the girl snapped. She rose Eda’s staff but before it could connect with the jerk’s head, he disappeared in a flickering streak of red light. “Huh? Wh-ah!” And then reappeared with an arm having hoisted her up off the ground.

“I’ve noticed,” Golden Guard responded smugly. “I suppose I have to enact my duty and punish someone who would dare to harm an official of the royal court.” His smirk grew when he felt the girl tense, before the frantic kicking resumed.

“Let go of me, you creep! I’ll-I’ll burn that ugly Halloween mask off your face!”

“You don’t think I’ve noticed you’ve run out of glyphs?” the older teen responded mischievously, and he laughed as the color drained from her face. “Yeeeah, I don’t think you’ll be doing much, human! Ah, except maybe laughing yourself to insanity.”

Luz’s eyes widened but before she could snap anything back she felt the gentle wiggle of fingers trace along her side. “N-no!” The witchling let off a string of Spanish curses as she struggled not to burst into laughter. That attempt failed when the boy’s fingers switched the target area to her belly and grinned when laughter began to bubble from her.

“Well your kind is just full of sensitivity! And wiggles!” he practically crooned at the poor girl, who at this point was just a laughing ball. He watched in amusement as she attempted to curl her legs up and limit the access to her tummy, but he easily maneuvered back to it.

“S-stohahap!” Luz squealed frantically as she was reduced to embarrassing snorts and hearty peals of laughter as his fingers skittered everywhere. She kicked against the ground and tried to fumble out her threats, but it was useless and tears pricked at her eyes.

This was such an unexpected and entertaining turn of events from the dreary day the guard was expecting, he’d have to thank the human later. Despite her earlier attack on him, the prodigy felt no inclination to harm her. To do so would ruin the fun! And he rather liked this little game, toying with the younger kid as a cat might with a mouse.

“Never really got to experience this growing up. What’s it like, human?”

Luz’s hiccups and wriggles had finally granted her some leeway as she managed to pry an arm free. Fine! So that’s the way he wanted to play? “Well why don’t you see for your-SELF!” And suddenly her spare hand plunged towards the older kid’s ribs.

The effect was absolutely instant.

“Wh-ahahahat!?” The teenager let off a giggling yelp as he stumbled, and it gave Luz the perfect opportunity to twist around and lunge furiously at the boy. She didn’t really think about running at the moment, too intent on delivering back what was just served to her. However, even she didn’t expect the squeaky laughter that burst from the guard as she dug into his ribs.

The older boy’s genuine laugh was so…bubbly and boyish, sounding ten years younger than he was. It was riddled with snorts already and despite herself Luz couldn’t help the way her lips tilted up a bit.

“Wow dude, your laugh is ridiculous. You sound like a pig.”

“I-I do not!” the boy attempted to snap, his laughter reaching a new octave as she drilled into his sides. “I’m totally dignified!” When her hands plunged towards his tummy he squeaked and curled up. This time Luz actually laughed.

“Oh yeah, totally dignified. So, who can’t take it now, bird face?” She switched the scribbles to softly ghosting his sides, and that seemed to drive him even more wild. The poor kid attempted a spell, and Luz watched in great amusement as the magic barely made a spark before he lost his concentration. In his struggles his mask had actually slipped off his face, giving Luz a full view for the first time of this kid.

She knew he was a ‘genius teen prodigy’ but for the first time she actually got to see the kid like her, with his boyish and slightly chubby cheeks and a face of youth just as much as it was one of trauma. Watching his face crinkle up in an almost joyful fashion made Luz nearly forget who it was she was dealing with.

“H-human unhahahand mehehe! I demand you to or you’ll saHAHAFFER THE-!” But he couldn't finish that threat as the laughter cut him off. Luz’s hands were clawing at his stomach and had found a rhythm that was driving him up the wall.

“The great teen prodigy, taken down by a little tickling! From a human!” Luz teased the boy. “Wait until I tell Eda! Oh no, better yet! Wait until I tell Lilith!”

“N-not if I have anything to say a-about it!” Golden Guard growled as he finally managed to reach out and tweak at Luz’s side.

“Ah!” Luz let off a giggling yelp as her body faltered trying to keep the older kid pinned down. She tried to jerk towards the side to avoid his grab, but it was making her wobble, and threaten to tumble off of him. “Y-you’re just a sore loser that can’t handle thahat he’s being beaten by a human!”

Both of their staffs were in easy reach and both witchlings easily could have grabbed for their actual weapons, but neither seemed inclined to do so. If anything, they seemed to have forgotten their hostility only moments prior in the wake of this bizarre game of trying to out tickle the other.

“Beaten?” the guard scoffed through his giggles as his hands suddenly locked around the girl’s wrists in an attempt to overpower her. “Y-you’re giving yourself a generous compliment, human!” He shoved against Luz, who was also pushing against his arms now.

“I am, and I’m also gonna give you a dose of THIS!” Luz smirked, her hands darting up under the older teen’s arms. Her eyes widened in shock at the explosive reaction that invoked, and she watched him desperately dig his elbows into his sides to try and protect the sensitive spot. His kicking was just wild now.

“N-NAHAHAHA! S-STAHAHAP!”

Luz couldn’t help it. Despite the fact not a finger was touching her, she laughed genuinely. “Wooow, okay I didn’t expect you to go that nuts.” Found his worst spot it seemed. “I guess it has to be pretty bad if someone as proud as yourself is actually willing to beg for mercy!” That evil grin widened, like a mischievous younger sister. “And I’m not gonna give it.”

The sixteen year old was laughing helplessly now as he twisted about to try and get away from Luz’s mischievous and playful little pokes. She was evilly prodding and jabbing anywhere she could reach, from his tummy to his sides, and back up under his arms. “Do you give up yet?”

“I’m goHONNA FEED YOU TO A DE-DEMON!”  the guard squealed, tears of mirth in his eyes. A flailing hand waved around until it found her tummy to poke, invoking a squeak from Luz.

“Ah! Ahaha, hey!” Luz grappled with the hands, and by now the two were just…a giggling mess. Both were just laughing, ticklish kids that seemed to have forgotten this was even a battle to begin with and were treating it as way more of a game now.

“You’re not gonna win this fight with me, dude! I’ve been having tickle fights with my Mami since I was little!” And had decimated everyone at the owl house at least once by now.

The teenager laughed as he kept trying to pin the younger kid. “Yeah? Well I’m the Golden Guard, so I’m stronger than you!”

“You sure about that??”

Their bizarre and adorable tickle battle went on for another good couple minutes, the two putting aside their animosity as they just let themselves indulge in being children for once, without thinking about the opposing sides they were on, or the trauma they’d been through. Both kids were breathless by the end of it. Luz barely even remembered she was supposed to be out here collecting mushrooms, or that she was essentially playing with her enemy.

“I…totally won that, human,” the boy panted out smugly, and he yelped a bit as Luz shoved him back down to the ground. He was still so caught off guard he hadn’t even seen it coming.

“You didn’t win anything. You jerk.” She rolled her eyes but after a moment offered a hand to help him up. “…Wait, what were we even trying to win?”

He seemed just as perplexed, eyes looking around slowly as if he was trying to find some explanation. A flustered look came to his face and his maroon eyes narrowed at Luz as she gave a small snort.

“Well regardless!” he went on haughtily, as if he hadn’t just been a giggling mess a moment ago. “I hope you’ve learned not to mess with a royal guard. Unfortunately it didn’t appear as if the younger teenager looked the least bit intimidated. In fact she merely smirked.

“Oh you mean the royal guard that was just giggling and squealing like a five year old girl?” Luz laughed as the teenager scowled in fury and his blush deepened. “Yeah, I definitely won’t ‘mess’ with you again,” the kid teased.

Golden Guard grunted a bit as his fingers twitched. A look of turmoil crossed his face as he kept staring at the human. It was no use. She wasn’t afraid of him anymore. Technically she hadn’t been before but he at least knew she was wary of his presence. …That wasn’t the case now.

“Well…” The prodigy hopped up onto his staff and began to rise up into the air. “This was a warning, you know.” The staff flew closer to her and the butt of it bopped her in the stomach. “Next time I won’t be so nice, human.”

“Luz.”

The boy frowned. “Huh?”

“My name, it’s Luz.” Luz crossed her arms and lifted a brow. “You could at least dignify me with my real name, you know.” She watched him blink. “So what can I call you then?”

The older teen turned away at her imploring eyes as he once again attempted to harden the proverbial walls of his armor that this stupid human had begun to chip at today. “Golden Guard,” he muttered, and didn’t miss the way Luz’s shoulders seemed to slightly sag in disappointment. After a moment of consideration, his staff lit up.

Before Luz realized it, she had a small handful of warping mushrooms and she looked to the boy.

“Consider it a small gesture of goodwill,” he told her simply and he ignored the tiny smile she was giving him. “The mushrooms are over populated this year anyway. …Don’t lean too much into this. My mercy was a one time thing.”

Luz laughed softly and gave her strange adversary a wayward smile. “Right. …Uh…thanks.”

“Try to keep yourself out of trouble for once…Luz.”

The kid stuck her tongue out at him, and it earned a small look of amusement from the other. “Yeah, whatever. See you later then, I guess.” And then he was gone. Luz’s grip on the small mushrooms tightened. “…Golden Guard.”

[heisenbergresimp]

Little Mouse

A karl heisenberg X fem! Reader fanfic

NSFW Do not interact if you are under 18.

TW: Non-Con Play (but is in fact consensual), rough sex, degredation, bondage.

it was a chilly spring evening. the snow had just melted but the earth was still frozen under your feet. you had been late at a friend’s house, sipping tea and talking. so, you had failed to notice as the sun began to drop in the sky.

once you had seen what time it was you had grabbed your shawl, thrown it over your shoulders and headed out.

you lived on the outskirts of the village with your lover. it had made you a bit of an outcast in the village. some people looked upon you with disgust, while other looked at you with pity. but your friends and remaning family seemed to understand your choices.

you didn’t care, you were happy with your beau.

to get home you had to head over to the ceremony site. moving the large stone chalice -hidden nearby - over the Dias to take you down to where the bridge was. from the bridge it was just a short walk home.

Normally the bridge was empty, very few people had a way to get to the bridge, which meant the walk was quiet and peaceful.

except today. today a large man was leaning against the crumbling stone on the bridge smoking a cigarette. the village knew him as one of mother Mirandas four lords, her lieutenant. Lord Heisenberg.

you felt yourself talked a big gulp of air before deciding to scurry over the bridge.

"Now, now, now little mouse. where do you think your going, not even going to say hello" the man said, taking a drag on his cigarette.

"s-sorry lord Heisenberg, I’m just heading home"

"Home? oh you’re that girl who lives near here. going home to your lover aren’t you, surprised he isn’t here to make sure you get home safely. lot of bad men in these areas"

by now he had dropped the cigarettes, extinguishing the bud underneath his boot. you could see his eyes behind his glasses, predatory, like a wolf stumbling upon a rabbit.

"Thank you for your concern lord Heisenberg, but I’ll be fine"

you tried to turn away, to get away from the dangerous wolf but he stood to his full height and walked in front of you, blocking your exit. you couldn’t help but o looks up and see his smirk. "Oh, don’t leave yet, little mouse. not before the fun has begun"

you raised your knee into his crotch. oh, you were going to pay for that later, but no one could blame your gut reaction. he took a s step or two back his eyes wide, wondering if you had actually just tried to kick him in the nuts.

he chuckled "you didn’t think that would work, did you little mouse. you’re going to pay for that"

you tried to run past him, but he grabbed you and threw you to the ground. while getting on top making sure to pin you down by your hips. "Stop wriggling or 'ill tie you up"

you don’t listen, just try to scramble away. you can see him grow more frustrated as he keeps having to pull you back. eventually he grabbed your hands and pinned them over your head while a piece of metal flew overhead. the metal wrapped around your hands and dug into the ground.

now you were truly trapped to this beast of a man.

he leaned down, warmth breath sliding over your air. the cold spring air mixed with the warm breath made you shiver "Guess you’re all mine now pet, I wouldn’t try to yell. even if anyone could hear you, they wouldn’t save you"

he bit your ear, nibbling it for a second before moving down to your neck and then your shoulder taking bites and leaving bruises. you could feel a moan bubble up in the back of your throat and bit your lip to keep it in.

"Oh no, little mouse. don’t keep those moans in" he grabbed your bottom lip and pulled it out from your teeth.

eventually he got to your chest. instead of unbuttoning all of the little buttons he simply grabbed the collar and yanked. buttons flew everywhere while your breast became exposed to the cold air.

Normally he would have a smart-ass quip but instead he just leaned down taking one nipple into his mouth while using a gloved hand to manipulate the other before switching, making sure both stood to full attention.

"Mmm, stop, someone might see" You beg, its pathetic but you have to at least try

"Who cares, worry they'll see what a whore you are, writhing under me"

he doesn’t bother to take off of the rest of your clothes, just lift up your skirt and pull down your underwear. you can see the wet spot on your panties.

"Wet for me? I knew you were a slut"

you try to disagree but he grabs you thighs and pulls them apart so he can have an uninterrupted view of your rosebud before going down on you. his tongue circles your clit sucking and nipping while your hips buck.

despite the cold whether sweat begins to form as you push your pussy closer to his face. Like a man starved he dives in, his tongue circling your clit. He knows exactly how to manipulate the little pearl till you’re a moaning mess

just as you begin to see stars, he pulls away. but its too late, your orgasm still happens and he watches as your hole contracts around nothing.

" I think your pussy needs something to fill it pet. I got just the tool."

he's taking off his clothes, letting you see the dozens of scares that mar his skin, the salt and pepper body hair that trails over his chest and from his navel to his rod which is engorged.

"You- you can’t, Lord Heinsberg" you pant "My partner, he's expecting me home soon"

"Oh, but he can’t make you feel this good, can he? now be a good slut and take me in."

he's on top of you now, lining up and entering you. you feel the metal binds on your arms fall away allowing you to wrap your arms around his shoulders. "Hold tight doll" is the last thing he says.

your sex turns animalistic, grunts and pants and moans as he pulls in and out of you, the occasional swear from his lips. you feel him move in and out of you, finding rhythm. in your ecstasy you indent your nails on his back and scratch.

at one point he flips you till you on your hands and knees and he behind. then he thrusts again taking you like a bitch in heat. he gets rougher and rougher, pulling your hair and forcing your head up so he can give you a bruising kiss.

his movement gets jerky but he reaches round and plays with your clit again so that you can cum.

his hips are moving frantically and every nerve in your body is alight with pleasure.

you come first milking his rod. he swears before giving you every last drop of his cum.

you collapse to the ground, feeling the cold stone underneath your face while he sits on his ass behind you.

a few moments passes and you feel him drape his trench coat over you. "Good girl, didn’t even use the safe word once" he says, wrapping his coat around you and lifting you up and on his lap.

"You okay, I didn’t mean to kneel you in the balls"

he chuckles "I’m fine, hot damn you were amazing. you played the helpless village girl to a tee"

"wasn’t hard, I played her for years before coming here"

sure, you had not one but two intense orgasms, and normally you wouldn’t want to get up from Heisenberg’s embrace, but today you were covered in dirt from the bridge.

"We should go home; I need a shower"

"Well let’s head back" he said lifting you up, bot even caring he was buck naked. "Keep this party going somewhere a bit warmer".

[ptergwen]

on the dot

warnings: swearing, suggestive jokes, and the boys being a lil goofy

summary: the boys keep you entertained when tom is running late

a/n: this nasty stinky year ends today! finally y’all!! it sucked sm and a lot of stuff went wrong but i’ve enjoyed spending time with you lovely people, seriously you’ve all been such a light and i hope we bring it into 2021 :,) i love all of you tons, stay safe tonight and have fun <3

-

ten.

“he’s still not here?” you storm back into the room, looking between all the boys. “where the hell could he be?” harry only sips his drink. harrison stares up at the ceiling. sam offers a sad smile.

you thought by the time you finished your private freak out in the bathroom, tom would be home. home and ready for you to kiss and hug and welcome the new year with. he has ten more minutes to make it happen.

of course, you were disappointed he couldn’t be here for christmas. you still understood because it wasn’t his fault. there was scheduling and a whole bunch of other things keeping him in the states. you’d at least have new year’s eve together, and that was enough for you.

the universe had other plans. tom’s flight got delayed to the latest possible second, and it’s beyond either of your control now.

nine.

harrison puts a hand on your arm. “maybe he’s in the taxi. traffic and all that,” he leads you over to the couch, giving you a nudge to sit down. you do with crossed arms and pouted lips. “cheer up.” harry beams and sticks a party hat on your head. you’re not even bothering to strap it on. sam scoots closer to you in his spot.

“you have us,” he reminds you, smiling to get the message across. it’s nice of them to try and comfort you, but all you really want is tom. he’s the holland you’d rather be touching knees with. “thanks, guys. i just...” you let out a sigh. “tom was supposed to be my new year’s kiss.”

“well, we can’t help you with that,” harrison snickers and takes a seat on the arm of the couch. harry puts down his beer with a cheeky look. “tessa might be available.” groaning, you drop your head onto his shoulder. “shut up, i know it’s cheesy. we talked about it, though.”

tom better get here soon and back that up.

eight.

“what if you did it over, um, facetime?” sam suggests, stifling a laugh right after. these boys just can’t be serious. “i’m not making out with my phone in front of you guys,” you scoff and adjust your party hat that’s falling. “you’d do it if we left the room, then?” harry questions, harrison raising his eyebrows at you.

you lift your head off of harry so you can shoot him a glare. “no, you know what i mean. leave me alone.” your voice shakes on the last part. you’re starting to feel emotional about all of this. you wanted one night with your boyfriend who hasn’t been home in months, that was all. why couldn’t you get it?

the boys all coo at you in unison. it’s sort of sarcastically, mostly sympathetically. harrison reaches over and puts an arm around your shoulders. “he’ll be here, y/n/n. there’s still about...” he checks his watch on his other hand. his eyes go wide.

“seven minutes until midnight.” “jesus,” harry mutters to himself, picking his beer back up.

seven.

you’re debating whether or not you should text tom. maybe call? you haven’t heard from him in hours, which isn’t very promising. the boys are making too much noise to talk to him, actually. they’ve taken to blowing into their noisemakers to distract you.

the loud humming that comes from harrison’s is ear piercing. that’s partially because he’s holding it directly up to your ear. sam is using a handheld one, and harry is raising his fist in the air while he finishes off his drink. you love their spirit. you’ve run out of your own.

“come on, year’s almost over,” harrison says in an overly happy way. “let’s at least celebrate that.” “i’ll toast,” harry salutes him with his empty bottle. “you’re pissed, harry,” sam laughs and grabs it from him. you throw your head back on the cushion. “can time move any slower?”

six.

“i give up. i’m spending new year’s alone,” you throw your hands up in defeat. harry rolls his eyes in mock offense. “hey, you’ve had great company.” “she doesn’t want to hear it, div,” sam reaches behind you and flicks his brother’s head. it earns a quiet “ouch.” you’d normally laugh at their antics, only you don’t have it in you.

you might be acting a little dramatic, but you have the right to. tom’s kisses are everything. that, and you miss the hell out of him. he misses you ten times more. you know it because he’s made sure to tell you every day.

“tom’s coming, y/n. does it really matter if it’s a few minutes late?” harrison asks with a pat on your shoulder. “hours,” you correct him bitterly. he removes his hand before you break it. you turn to sam, who clenches his teeth. “your brother has terrible timing.” “you’ve only just figured that out?”

five.

harrison and sam have you playing some three way game of patty cake when the doorknob starts to move. you immediately snap your head up. is that...

“santa?” harry murmurs in his drunken state. “wrong holiday,” sam tells him. “that’s passed.” harrison chuckles at the conversation. “we should cut him off before-“

the door quickly swings open, a breathless but grinning tom behind it. “guess who?” he drops his bags and opens up his arms. your face lights up the most it has in too long. you run straight over to him. the boys watch on, waiting to say hi until after you two get time together.

“oh my god, you made it!” you giggle out, tom lifting you up by your waist. he secures his arms tightly around you and squeezes. “how’d you actually get here on time?” your voice is muffled by your face pressed into his shoulder. “i’ll always be here for you, angel,” tom assures you, shutting the door with his foot.

he kisses the top of your head. you can feel his lips curve into another smile. “in every way.” you put your arms around his neck, clasping your hands together. “you don’t understand how much i missed you.” you’re returning the smile. “i swear.”

“i promise, i missed you so much more.” he carefully sets you down and keeps his arms around your waist. the two of you exchange a look that says all the i love you’s you don’t currently have the time or privacy to.

“oi, where’s our big hello?” harry calls from the couch.

four.

you’re all squished onto the couch now. tom is sitting in your spot with you in his lap. the others strongly protested it, whining about how you’d go at it or worse. you ignored their complaints and happily took your place on tom’s thigh. your back is to him, so he has his chin on your shoulder to sneak glances at you.

“does anyone have a resolution?” harrison asks the group of you, eyes landing on his best friend. “me?” tom checks, tracing a finger up and down your side. “to take more breaks.” you like that one. you let him know by leaning into him more. “mine’s to move out,” harry remarks. his oldest brother gives him a warning look.

“all jokes. you two are adorable,” he gives you a thumbs up, shaking around his noisemaker again. “this is what i’ve left you with?” tom mumbles to you, fully aware the others can hear. you shake your head. “they terrorized me, tom.” sam is the one to interject.

“that’s rubbish. i cooked every meal you wanted, we-“ “they terrorized me,” you repeat, playfully this time. tom taps under your chin with two fingers. “mhm, sounds like it.”

three.

“do you think tessa would still do a kiss?” harrison asks harry, who cackles when he sees tom’s face. he has to blink a few times to process what was said. you smooth your thumb over the crease in his forehead.

“what did i tell you? they’re weird.” “they’re deranged,” tom leans into your touch. “i won’t let them near her.”

“i feel so... single,” harrison explains with a fake sniffle. he eyes the two of you. that makes tom pull you closer. “stay away from my girls.”

two.

“the moment we’ve been waiting for,” you move so you’re facing tom. “is about to happen.” you also happen to be straddling him so it’s possible. if the boys have anything to say, you won’t be listening. “our new year’s kiss,” he grins, his hands dropping down to your hips. “very big moment.”

one.

tom tilts his head up to you, running his tongue over his lower lip. your party hat is strapped on now. you move in closer until your noses are touching.

“missed this face,” he rasps and nudges your nose with his. “well, here it is,” you bring a hand up to the side of his neck. the boys are huddled in a circle with their party gear, so you have the couch to yourselves. harrison is getting ready to pop a bottle of champagne.

your not so perfect night ended up being better than any of you could’ve expected.

harrison checks his watch and waves a hand at everyone. “twelve, eleven,” he counts you in. “ten, nine, eight,” you all join, you turning your head to look at the others. tom peeks his head out from behind you. “seven, six,” harry eagerly holds out glasses for drinks. “five, four, three,” sam raises up his noisemaker.

“two, one! happy new year!” the champagne sprays everywhere while you turn back to tom.

you erupt in a big smile before he’s pulling you in. he finally presses his lips to yours, your arms going around his neck. it’s easy and soft and you fall right into your usual rhythm. his lips part for you, letting you deepen the kiss.

tom’s eyes are squeezed shut in focus, on you and how you taste like the same lip balm from all those months ago. one of his hands rests on your back to support you. you break away for all of two seconds to take a breath. you’re giggling, and so is tom. you connect your lips again without warning, tom still laughing into it.

“i love you so much,” you pull away to tell him quietly. tom tugs on the top of your party hat with a playful smirk. “i love you, y/n/n. happy new year, babe.” he gives you one more peck on the lips. you’re feeling generous and decide to return it, your kiss lingering a bit.

harry summons you two before it turns into another make out.

“drinks! we have drinks,” he holds his up for emphasis. harrison already poured yours, sam taking a sip of his own while they chat. you climb off of tom and offer him a hand. he gladly takes it, interlocking your fingers and getting up. the two of you walk over to the table hand in hand.

“thanks, bro. happy new year,” tom gives harrison a quick one armed hug and takes his drink. harrison hands you yours after. “thank you,” you take it and flash him a small smile. “for everything.” “anytime,” he pulls you in for a proper hug, tom hugging the twins.

you do the same, then the five of you sit at the table to drink and talk. when they get into a conversation about golf, tom eventually breaks off. he squeezes your knee to get your attention, which you raise a curious eyebrow at. he nods toward the couch.

“we’ll finish that later.”

[songmingisthighs]

[15.08] badboy!seonghwa × reader

⇀ had you known that's why he confessed, would you have accepted him ? Or smack his annoyingly perfect face with your laptop ?

⇁ part 1 / 2

⇁ prologue part 1 / 2 / 3

Things had gone great between you and Seonghwa. You and he would often meet at your dorm or at the diner at least three times a week.

You'd ask him why you both never hung at his dorm but his answer was that he doesn't want the boys to disturb your 'quality time'.

Normally you'd question answers like that, but the way he looks at you and holds your hand made you forget why you even wanna ask that in the first place.

But like all things, everything dissipates with time.

Nearing the end of the semester, group projects lessen and solo assignments accumulate which put a strain between your and Seonghwa's hangout time. You've tried convincing him that you both can hang out whilst doing your solo assignments but you remembered how his eyes trailed after a girl as you spoke at one of your last hangouts at the diner.

Seems like he's lost interest in you too.

Which, it sure hurts, but you both were never official and neither had verbally confirmed to the other about their feelings. It sucks.

But you power through.

You pretend that his silence during class's group discussion didn't affect you, you pretend that when he immediately pack up his stuff to leave the class and only throwing you a polite smile didn't make your heart wrench, you pretend that him ghosting you didn't make you feel both embarrassed and angry at the same time.

You're light and breezy.

Heck, you're so light and breezy, you still go to that diner every Friday all alone. And it's not because you had hoped to see one particular man.

Even though you did.

When he was on a date with some girl who's obviously very pretty.

On the booth you both had 'claimed' as 'your booth' without ever verbally saying it.

"Hi, excuse me," a voice broke your train of thoughts.

You look up from your book to see a really handsome man standing in front of you with a smile on his face. He looks very handsome, definitely mixed-race, and he has this chill aura on him that is honestly refreshing to you.

"Sorry to bother you, but can I sit here?" He asked. You look around to see that there are a lot of other places left in the library where he could've sat.

Sensing your apprehension, the man raised both of his hands, "I'm not a creep or a weirdo, I'm just very particular about where I work,"

He's got a point. So you just nodded, "sure, it's not my table or anything anyways, you could've just taken a seat without asking my permission," he shrugged as he put his things across you, "I mean sure, but you seemed like you don't wanna be bothered and this particular spot has the best walking distance to anywhere at all and plus the secret charging port? Genius," he said, grinning proudly.

You raised your eyebrows at him, "you seem to know your way around the table, mister..." you trailed off to which he immediately caught on, "Hansol, Choi Hansol, but my friends calls me Vernon," he held his hand out for you to shake, "(Y/N), (Y/N) (Y/L/N), and why Vernon?" "My english name, I'm half American,"

And with that, you got yourself a new friend.

Vernon is a computer science major, and the other thing major about him is his nerdiness. And his hotness. Which is a ridiculous combination.

Ever since that day in the library, you both somehow find the other popping up everywhere. Just a day after your first meeting in the library, he came into the café you part-timed at. He came in to order 13 drinks and several pastries, shocking you at first but then he told you he lives in a frat house with 12 other guys and that he's not a caffeine addict.

Then you both bonded over the many sessions in the library which eventually venture out to sitting together during lunch, and then suddenly you both started meeting outside campus.

And this did not go unnoticed by Seonghwa.

"Hey, Seonghwa, how well do you know (Y/N)?" Hongjoong asked, breaking Seonghwa's glare on you and Vernon from all the way across the cafeteria.

Seonghwa raised an eyebrow at him, "(Y/N) from my statistics class?" As if he hadn't considered you as something more at some point, "I'd say well enough as a groupmate, why?" He asked back.

Hongjoong nodded towards you and Vernon with his chin, "Vernon there saw you both working together and he wants to make sure he won't be stepping on anyone's toes when he's making a move on her,"

At that moment, Seonghwa almost choked on his fries. Too surprised with the fact that you've possibly moved on from him so quickly.

It's only been a month and a half since you both stopped hanging out outside of obligation.

Hearing that made his blood boil and he's pretty sure it's not jealousy. Most likely territorialism. HE took interest in you first waaaaay before Vernon did.

The smile and laugh you give Vernon was supposed to be for him. He used to make you laugh so hard at any stupid pun he concocted in his head. No matter how stupid it is nor how much it doesn't make any sense.

To be completely honest, he didn't know why he pulled away from you in the first place. He had been so comfortable with you, never once had he ever let his guard down and just be carefree, not even with his closest friends.

He needs to get you back to him.

No matter what.

So he made his move the next time you both had statistics again.

Unlucky for him though, the professor decided to not have any group discussion that day which threw Seonghwa's plan out the window. But thankfully he still remembered your schedule, you don't have any class after statistics which means you'd be grabbing a simple lunch before your part-time job starts until 8 pm.

So he waited patiently for the bell to ring.

Legs bouncing in anticipation as his eyes flit towards the clock every five minutes.

When the professor finally dismissed the class (10 minutes later than he's supposed to, as per usual), he immediately put all his belongings back in his bag and ran after you. Somehow you've mastered the art of cleaning up quickly over the month and a half without him.

"(Y/N)! Wait!" Seonghwa called.

You stopped in your tracks and turn your head to see Seonghwa jogging towards you with that stupid, charming smile on his face.

Damn his good looks.

"Yeah? Is there something wrong?" you asked him when he caught up to you. He raised an eyebrow at you, confused as to why you'd think there'd be anything wrong.

"Ah!" you suddenly exclaimed, "Is this about my part of the presentation? Don't worry, I'm close to finishing it, I should be able to compile it in the PPT tonight by... 9.30-ish? I have to finish my shift at the café," you explained.

He chuckled at you, deep voice that you oh so missed ringing in your ears, "wha- no, (Y/N), I'm not here to talk about our project, I just wanna... talk with you," he said, tilting his head to the side slightly. It somehow made him look both hot and cute at the same time. Which doesn't make sense.

Now it was your turn to raise an eyebrow at him while crossing your arms, "why? No offence, Seonghwa, but you've kinda been blowing me off for the past month and a half now, what makes you think I'd have anything to talk with you about?"

Those words coming out of your mouth shocked him. It's not like he didn't expect some apprehension from you, but hostility? Boy, you must've been really affected by his shitty doings.

"I-I- no, (Y/N), I haven't been blowing you off," bullshit, even he knows that, "I've just been really-" "really... what? Absent? Ghosty? Hot and cold? Whatever it is, Seonghwa, you don't owe me any explanation," you tried your best to not roll your eyes at him because honestly, how dare he blew you off and now acting like he didn't whilst hoping you don't notice what he has been doing.

What did he take you for? One of his brainless bimbos?

Surprised at your words, Seonghwa was left stunned. You waited for a solid 10 seconds for him to say something. Anything.

Literally, how hard is it to say sorry?

Realizing he wouldn't realize what he's supposed to do, you just shook your head at him, "I'll finish inputting and editing my part by tonight, I'll see you in class next week, Seonghwa," you said before walking away.

You would've thought that he'd take the hint and go back to ignoring you.

But now, of course not. He's stubborn and he plays by his own rules. It's an understatement to say that you were shocked when you saw him entering the café nearing the end of your shift.

Despite the shock of seeing him, you pretended like nothing's wrong and do what you're supposed to do to any other customer as per usual.

Heck, you'd give yourself a pat on the back, head, and butt for being so calm whilst handling Seonghwa. You managed to keep that "strictly professional" smile on your face as you take his orders, you didn't fumble when he made small talks as you typed in his orders into the computer (like really, who the heck said "good thing tonight's not cloudly, love the moonlight," ??), and you didn't flinch when your hands accidently touch as you hand him his strawberry frappucino.

Yes, the badboy strictly and secretly drink sweet, fruity drinks.

You'd thought that his presence was merely a coincidence. As he waited in his table, you had assumed that he's waiting for some girl (who isn't you, sadly) so all you wanna do is run out of there as soon as you can.

"Hey, Jaemin," you called your co-worker who's in the middle of sipping his 6 shot americano at 8 pm, "I'm gonna head out, okay? Think you can hold the fort until Yena's here? She said she has to turn in an assignment, that's why she's late,"

Jaemin just rolled his eyes at you, "(Y/N), I'm drinking coffee that's powerful enough to paralyze a horse, I can definitely handle the slow Wednesday night crowd," he said sarcastically to which you laugh.

After getting your things from your locker in the back room, you proceed to go out through the front door.

Unbeknownst to you, Seonghwa had followed behind.

You were only several steps away from the café when suddenly Seonghwa caught up to you and grab your hand.

Knowing that it's quite late and it's dark, Seonghwa should've known better. You honestly only feel slightly bad for punching his chest.

Slightly.

Like 2%.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Seonghwa you scared the devil out of me!" You exclaimed after realizing that it was just him, pulling your hand away from his grip. He coughed, trying to ease oxygen back to his lungs after you had brutally knocked them out.

"Guess I deserved that," he coughed out, but he was smirking as if he's amused by your attack, "sorry, I was just- I need to talk to you," he said, looking at you pleadingly.

"Well, it doesn't seem like that for the past month and a half, Seonghwa, you seemed just about done with me," you said while crossing your arms, your expression showing nothing but disdain at him. He seems to feel remorse after seeing how you looked at him. Never once did you showed any negativity nor hostility to him during the time you both spent together.

Seonghwa didn't really know what made him pull away from you. All he was sure of is that he felt something so strongly about you to the point that it scared him so much. He never felt the need to be with someone as much as when he was with you. He found himself thinking about you when you're both not together, he found himself only focusing on you and nothing else when you both are together, and he found his vulnerabilities open for you to access.

It scared him to hell and back when he realizes that there is a possibility of him wanting something more from you.

With you.

The man before you sighed, "I... Have no excuse for how I acted recently but believe me when I said that I regret pulling myself away from you because I'm scared, you're too good to and for someone like me, you deserve the best and I wanna be the best for you," he stepped closer to take both your hands in his, his eyes were genuine which rendered you incapable of being too mad at him, "I wish I could rewind the time and take back what I did, I never should have pulled away from you, I should have just told you the truth," he said.

For a second, he forgot about his image and he just let whatever he was feeling out, he wanted to make sure that you understand how he truly feels.

Both of you stood in silence, just staring at each other as he rubs his thumb on the back of your hand. With the way you're staring at him now, he was sure that your initial resolve had completely melted.

But suddenly from his peripheral vision, he saw Vernon coming out of a bookstore across the road and was looking around.

Remembering what prompted him to get closer to you again, he pulled you in close into his arms, a hand to your cheek and lips just centimetres away from his.

"So? Would you please give me another chance to show you how much you mean to me? Not as just some guy from your statistics class," his words made you chuckle and roll your eyes, "but as your boyfriend," he said before he could stop himself.

Your eyes widened, "m-me? With y-you? Boyfriend and girlfriend?" you choked out, not believing your ears in the first place. You wanted to make sure that he's not kidding, making a joke or making a fool out of you.

Instead of answering, however, he simply leaned in and places his lips softly on yours. The kiss was sweet, it conveyed how much he wants and misses you. For some reason it made you feel comforted, he feels like home and his arms makes you feel safe.

So then and there, you kiss him back as a form of an answer to him.

When you both finally pull away, you both could see dumb smiles decorating the other's face, proof of happiness over what just happen.

Remembering that you're in the middle of the road and there are people around you, you pulled away from his arms first but reached to tangle your hand in his.

"Come on, I believe I owed my groupmate my part of the presentation," you started as you walk, pulling him with you.

But as you walk, you turn your head at him to throw a flirty smirk, "boyfriend" you said, making him grin so wide, it could rival a Cheshire cat.

Maybe you and he isn't a bad idea at all.

All you can do now is hope that he won't break you.