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[glasswallsystems]

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[chlorinecake]

A SUCKER FOR THE TASTE ✦— 𝐋.𝐇𝐒

▹ PAIRING — experienced husband heeseung x virgin f. reader

▹ GENRE — smut, fluff, newlyweds au

▹ SYNOPSIS — As teens, you were the uncanny duo that fell in love at first sight. Some odd years later, and you’re now a newlywed couple, spending your first night together in a fit of nerves as you navigate sex and other new feelings…

▹ WARNINGS — KINKTOBER SPECIAL, basically just pussy drunk!husband!heeseung making you squirt for hours on the night of your honeymoon, marriage themes (duh), mentions of food, dom and sub dynamics, kissing with tongue, overstimulation kink (reader cums multiple times), oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, petnames (baby, angel, pretty, sweetie), that’s all

▹ WORD COUNT: 3.3k — DAY 1

YOU AND HEESEUNG were like Romeo and Juliet; two people from totally different walks of life, and honestly, no one ever would’ve guessed you two’d end up falling for each other.

Sometimes, it’s hard to tell any time had passed between the first moment you met Heeseung with a hickey on his neck in the lunch hall to now as you sit before him on a king sized bed, ring fingers clad with beautiful bands to match as you stared into each others eyes, speaking a love song of unspoken words.

“You’re fine with waiting til marriage?” You remember asking him a few weeks after you first started dating as teens, “you won’t think I’m a prude for wanting to keep things traditional?…”

“Of course not, sweetie,” you remember him answering while cupping your face in his hands, “a girl like you is worth the wait—” He whispered in between kissing your lips, “—and so much more…”

Since that moment, you and Heeseung have stuck to your guns, not even so much as showering together to keep your purity intact until the right moment…

… That fateful day when you’d say “I do” and he the same, right before venturing off into the sunset on angel’s wings to explore another country together.

Another life, might I add, as a married couple on your extravagant honeymoon…

Everything was so magical in your head, too… but regardless of that, Heeseung was too big of a fucking dork to let himself be romantic for once.

Just an hour ago, he had told the hotel receptionist “you too” after she congratulated you both on getting married—

“Grrrrrrrrr,” he pouted, scrunching his nose at you.

“Did you just… growl at me!?”

“Yes, and I’ll do it again if you keep resisting,” Heeseung threatened playfully, pointing an accusing finger at your frame now.

Sighing, you raised your hands beside your head as a sign of compliance, parting your lips slightly as you held your head back for him.

“Alright, don't move this time, alright? We can do this!” He ordered more passionately this time, cradling a single grape between his fingers before angling his wrist backwards and launching it towards your mouth.

“Oh my gosh, I finally caught it!” You shouted with excitement, words coming out a bit slurred as you bit down into the sweet fruit, “Tastes like victory,” you continued, making Heeseung grace you with his thundering ovation.

“Brava!” He began to cheer, but the rest of his sentence was interrupted by his own burp, which only elicited a fit of embarrassed giggles from the both of you…

Two empty glasses of wine sat on the hotel nightstand beside the bed you were currently sat on, and if it wasn't obvious enough, y'all were already starting to experience the giddy effects of the alcohol dancing in your systems.

“So,” you smiled, a laugh still present in your throat as you fed him a white grape from the bowl between you two, “we're the couple that eats pie in place of dinner now?”

“Sure... but not just any pie,” Heeseung corrected, leaning closer to your ear as he whispered, “blueeeberry pieeee.”

You're not sure if it was the wine or the honeymoon high, but you can't help yourself from laughing out loud at Heeseung's behavior in this moment—

“You’re a legend for always vibing with my horrible sense of humor, y’know that?” Your husband remarked while tilting his head at you endearingly.

“Your humor is definitely one-of-a-kind, but I wouldn't want you to change a thing about it,” you returned tenderly, right before feeding him a fork-full of blueberry pie from the dish between you two, feeling your heart swell as he smiled into the bite.

The kind of smile you’d have a hard time getting out of your mind later—

“Thanks, babe,” he said, a bit of dark blue jam resting in the corner of his mouth now as his eyes sparkled with what you could bet was pure flattery.

You always liked it whenever you managed to get Heeseung all flustered before you, considering how he was usually the one to make you a blushing mess with only his words.

“You've uh...” you stammer slightly, “you've got a little something on your lip there...”

“Really?”

“Yea, just... let me get it for you real quick,” you continue, licking the pad of your thumb before leaning forward to dab at the jam on his mouth.

That's when you noticed his lips curving into a subtle smirk as he whispered in a low voice, “You got it, baby?”

“Y-yea,” you stuttered again, feeling your face heat up at his words, and if you didn't look so hot to him right now, he would've pinched your cheeks—

“Whoops,” Heeseung gasped facetiously, pouting at the streak of blueberry jam he very intentionally just smeared on your lower lip, “must be the wine making me so clumsy today...”

Your eye almost twitched at the sight of him licking his finger clean, a rush of nerves swarming in your stomach now

“I-it's okay, Heeseung,” you said while lifting your thumb to your mouth, “I've got it...”

“No you don't,” he chuckled at your shy demeanor, right before closing the space between you two, taking your face in his hand and kissing you.

And yes, you saw this coming, but it took you a few seconds to fully close your eyes, letting them flutter shut as you both sighed at the taste of each other, almost as if the contact relaxed you…

The kiss was slow at first, with you and him simply breathing against each other’s mouths as his velvety lips moved against yours.

But that pace didn't last long once Heeseung broke from the kiss to move the bowl of grapes and pie out of the way, a few of the glossy green ovals hitting the ground with light thuds as his right hand found the small of your back, pulling you even closer to him.

The kiss grew more intense from there as both your heads were tilting into each other, wet smacks filling the room now as his tongue prodded against yours with every passing second.

“God, you taste so sweet,” Heeseung groaned, desperately clinging to your waist which only made you moan in response.

You and Heeseung had made out countless times in the past, but you could tell something was different this time... you never felt this worked up with him before, and you knew it wasn’t just gonna end with a kiss—

“Can’t wait to taste other parts of you, too, baby…” he hummed, kissing along your neck while pinning your delicate wrists above your head.

And that’s when you felt it…

The twitch between your legs and the heat rushing throughout your entire body…

You were wearing a plaid pajama skirt and white top that matched Heeseung’s plaid sweatpants and long sleeved shirt, as you simply expected to only eat some dessert, discuss the rest of your honeymoon plans, and head straight to sleep right after.

Now though, you knew you wouldn't be able to get much rest with your emotions like this… at least not comfortably, that is…

You’re between his lap at first until he guides you onto your back, kissing down your neck, between your breasts, and down your stomach as he lifts your top, stopping at the waist band of your skirt given the way your body tensed up suddenly.

“Is everything alright?” He asked softly, glancing back up at you with a swollen look to his pouty lips, given all the kissing they had just done.

You knew what was happening right now..

Heeseung was doing exactly what you had asked him to do, and as much as your body craved it, your mind kept fighting it for some reason…

FLASHBACK —

“Just… don’t make it too… formal, okay?”

“Formal?” Heeseung repeated with a slight chuckle as you sat beside each other on the plane that morning.

“Well, yea… I just don’t want to make a big deal out of it—”

“But it is a big deal, baby,” he cut you off by placing his hand over yours. “We’ve been waiting a long time for this, y’know?… Not just to have sex but—” he leaned closer to you as he whispered this in your ear, “—to make each other feel good… in all kinds of ways…”

His breath tickled your ear in that moment… similarly to how his lips were tickling you now as you laid before him on the mattress, his head hovering over the space between your thighs.

“We don’t have to go any further until you’re ready, love—”

“I’m ready, Heeseung,” you said while nodding, but he waited to continue, knowing in his heart that there was still something you needed to get off your chest.

He backed away, pulling your shirt back over your stomach and sitting on the bed normally now.

“Heeseung,” you said again, drawing his sparkly doe eyes back to you.

“I’m listening, love,” is all he replied with, offering you a warm smile, “what’s on your mind?”

What’s in the way? You internally asked yourself right after, knowing deep down that you had no reason to feel so nervous with him right now…

Heeseung had never alienated you because of your inexperience with sex before, and was always very understanding of your moral and sexual boundaries.

But now, things were different; you were a married couple, and one of the many perks of that was being able to explore each others body in a comfortable way…

Turns out though, it was all just your own insecurities clouding your judgment, and you hated that you couldn’t shake the nerves bubbling in your stomach…

“It’s just that,” you started nervously, fidgeting with your manicured nails, “I… I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“Yeah, I know,” your husband nodded sarcastically, trying his best to resist the urge to kiss you again—

“And…well, you have a lot more experience than me with this kind of thing,” you continued, lowering your head.

“So what?”

“What if I don’t meet your expectations?…”

“Expectations? What do you mean, ____?”

“Well, you’ve been with a lot of other girls and what if I’m not as good as them? What if you don’t like sex with me?…”

Heeseung’s heart would’ve otherwise dropped at your words, but instead, he smiled softly, taking your chin in his hand and lifting your head towards him. “You’re nothing like those girls I was with in the past, ____, and that’s my favorite part about you,”

You looked into his eyes as he continued, “I’ll be happy with whatever happens tonight. You wanna know why? Because I did it with you, and I love you with my everything, princess…”

“I love you too, Heeseung,” you replied meekly, flashing him a soft smile as he kissed your cheek.

“No expectations tonight, then… okay, baby? I just wanna please you,” he whispered, slowly guiding your body back down against the mattress with a secure hand. “I wanna make you feel so good,” he continued, placing another kiss to the center of your lips. 

Heeseung started by letting his plush lips wander all over your body again, lifting your shirt up once more to leave open-mouthed kisses all over your stomach.

“You're so beautiful,” he murmured with warm breath against your skin, caressing your inner thighs with his hands until you naturally craned them open, inviting him to your pulsing core.

Your breath hitched once you felt his nose burry between your clothed folds, but your little sounds only excited him even further, and he wasted no time in removing your panties completely now.

“Heeseung,” you whined, watching him through half-lidded eyes as he spat on your cunt, toying with the moisture there using his middle and index finger.

“Just relax for me, angel,” your husband cooed with a soothing tone, and you're not sure if it was the alcohol or the petname he just called you in his bedroom voice, but your head was starting to feel very dizzy.

And if you weren't so horny, you would've felt bashful in front of him like this... half-naked, and trembling when he's hardly even touched you yet.

The coldness of his wedding band against the warm flesh of your thigh sent shivers down your spine, and he wasted no time in inviting his fingers into your sopping hole, one at a time until your walls practically sucked him in.

He then started to leave kitten licks against your sensitive bud, complimenting the pace by pumping his wrist towards your pelvis with his digits still exploring the gummy walls of your cunt.

Admittedly, you had tried fingering yourself in the past, but it never felt as good as the way Heeseung worked wonders inside you right now, but you still needed something...

Something to hold onto… something to grab, and Heeseung could immediately tell once your nails started weakly nipping at the bed sheets, your pussy throbbing more and more—

“Hee,” you moaned, feeling his fingers curl deeper and deeper inside your tight cunt, “need to touch you so bad...”

“Yea? Wanna hold my hand, pretty?”

All you can manage to do is nod desperately, making him chuckle slightly at your neediness.

“If you hold my hands, I need you to promise to keep your legs open for me on your own... can you do that for me, love?”

“Y-yes,” you stammered, and with that, Heeseung got to work on licking your slick from his fingers before finding your hands in his.

But your core was already missing the stimulation, making your hips rise up and down as if thin air would provide enough friction to ease your craving.

And that's when he licked his first stripe up the center of your pussy, and you're sure your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the sensation.

It didn't take long for the pleasure to escalate from there, either.

His lips wrapped around your clit and sucked you in like a starved out man. His tongue was applying pressure in all the best ways before sinking into your hole, filling you up just enough to have you arching your back on the bed.

You felt your first orgasm wash over you, but you knew your husband had no intention of stopping so soon.

You were mewling beneath him at the overstimulation, thankful that he at least slowed down the pace of his tongue, even though he was still very earnestly slurping at your juices…

“Could eat this pussy for hours, princess… you’re just too delicious…” he groaned, and you felt the bed shaking from the way he was rutting his crotch against the mattress, furrowing his eyebrows as his kept eating you out.

“Come on baby, let me hear you,” Heeseung practically begged, his tone sounding so hoarse, so drunk as the vibrations from his voice only tantalized you even further, “tell me how good it feels...”

“F-feels s-so fucking good, baby,” you moaned, words coming out in fragments given how cloudy your brain was becoming, and you're pretty sure you had your second or third orgasm shortly after as your hands squeezed his, so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

His tongue was licking between your folds so well, the textured muscle making your skin tingle all over but in the best way imaginable.

Heeseung didn't plan on any of this to happening, which is why it felt so good in the first place. It was natural, raw, and so so messy…

Your own cum was dripping all over his chin and lips, and he was loving every single second of it.

He was obsessed with it. The way your clit throbbed against his lips, the way you squirted your juices all over his face, the way your thighs squirmed while struggling to stay open, and your angelically desperate cries of pleasure as he drew out orgasm after orgasm after orgasm.

He wished he could watch your face contort with need as he fucked you with his face and tongue, but he couldn't look back up at you no matter how hard he tried… He had to keep his face buried between you…

Your strength eventually gave out and your grip released his hands that soon found one of your tits, gripping the mound of flesh in a way that only drew you even further over the edge.

Your hips had even developed a mind of their own, humping against his face like a bunny in heat as he whispered filthy nothings against your cunt, as well as sweet somethings that you'd hear for the next hour or two that Heesueng spent with his pointy nose brushing against your clit.

“You're so fucking wet for me, angel...”

“Love it when you come all over my face.”

“Pull my hair, baby... harder than that...”

“So so beautiful, and just for me.”

“Keep those pretty thighs open just like that, baby…”

“You taste so fucking divine...”

“Please don't tell me to stop... just one more, baby... I know you've got it in you...”

He found just as much enjoyment being between your thighs as you did in having him there, making you cream on his tongue again and again until you finally hiccuped the words, “N-no more, Hee... p-please, I can't t-take anymore...”

But your begging only made Heeseung even greedier, letting his fingers find your clit where he applied enough pressure and stimulation to break that last orgasm out of you, leaving you a shaking mess as he kissed you down, harder than a bullet in his own pants from getting to see you like this so many times and for so long in just one evening.

A series of shaky whimpers filled the room now as your husband crawled back over you, kissing you with his swollen lips while caressing the side of your fucked-out face. “You did so good for me, baby... especially on your first night...”

“Th-thank you,” you said with a weak chuckle, still feeling your orgasms fresh in your hips and thighs as he kept soothing you with his touch, your breath shaky in your chest after hours of coming undone with him…

That's when he moved over to lay beside you, and your eyes almost immediately caught sight of the thick bulge resting behind his pants, and you couldn't help but feel a little bad now given how he didn’t get much action the whole time.

“Do you want me to...” you started timidly, moving your hand to touch him up til he stopped you.

“Not tonight... we can have fun with that tomorrow,” Heeseung smiled, making you giggle again as he changed his position to make the bulge less noticeable, “for now though, let's focus on getting you cleaned up... sound good?”

“Better than good,” you replied tenderly, kissing him on the cheek before he got up from the bed and headed toward the hotel bathroom where he planned to run you a nice warm bath.

“Wait!” Your husband called out suddenly, just as he caught you trying to get out of the bed on your own.

Running over, a confused look remained on your face as he picked you up from the mattress bridal style, carrying you to the bathroom.

“I didn't forget how to walk, Heeseung,” you giggled, keeping your hands secure at his shoulder as he cradled you into the tub.

“I know,” he laughed, helping you get your top off and over your head as the water ran in the background, “I just didn't want my precious wife accidentally stepping on any of those grapes I dropped earlier...”

It went without saying that Heeseung had always been a loser, but he was your loser, and that fact alone was the bandaid that covered up every preconceived notion of him you ever created in the back of your mind…

You didn’t see him the way other people saw him… as the former man whore, troublemaker, or hopeless goof from high school, ‘destined’ to never change…

You saw him as the adorable nerd who accepted you for the things you saw as flaws… as the guy who still wore character themed PJ’s every once in a while that you now get to call “Hubby,” “lovey,” and “mine…”

⋆♱✮ Huge thanks to everyone who read this little fic of mine, which actually concludes DAY 1 of my Kinktober Event !! If you're interested in reading more works like this, feel free to check out my main enhypen masterlist or my kinktober masterlist by clicking one of these links !!

⋆♱✮ PERMANANT TAGLIST:

@squoxle, @nishiimuranights, @ashgonedash

@yourmomscuntis2tighy, @wonbinisbabygurl

@watamotee33, @addictedtohobi, @ot7sevenlvr

⋆♱✮ KINKTOBER TAGLIST:

@pasteltheghost16 @fawnpeaks @melonvrs

@mheretoreadff @skzfelixlove @inishij

@yaorzu-blog @andromedawillburyyou @ramyeonzprincess

@zaihypen @simjaeyunns @gardenwonnies @hynier

@idontknowhowtomakeusernames @enhymeowz @minhosimthings

[ozarkthedog]

𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐨 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬

summary: dbf!joel video calls you during a meal with your parents.

warnings: 18+ mdni. toxic dbf!joel miller x afab!reader. unspecified age gap. daddy kink. tit play. dirty talk. male masturbation. no beta. w.c: 641

author's note: spawned from the "who's your daddy?" clip and @mrsmando mentioning toxic dbf!joel. 😘

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⋅ 𝐅𝐢𝐜 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐬 ⋅ 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

"Doin' the right thing pickin' up," Joel praises with a velvety tone as he moves his phone to rest in front of his chest.

The video screen displays his tan, aging face, slicked-back gray hair, and trimmed silver whiskers. He's reclined in a chair wearing a white t-shirt under a gray flannel button-up like he just got home from a job. "Be a good girl 'n show me those pretty tits."

Your eyes bug at his command. Thank god you stepped out onto the deck and shut the slider.

"Joel, not now. Please." You'd been eating dinner with your parents, and now you're on a video call with your dad's best friend, who's asking to see your tits.  

Not that he hasn't already seen them and every other inch of you.

"C'mon now, show me wha's mine," he pesters with a clipped, unwavering command.

You nervously peer through the glass slider and into the kitchen, praying your parents don't come outside before lifting your top and showing the older man your bare breasts.

"Thatta girl." A deep, tinny groan spills from the tiny speakers and nestles in your lower belly. Your cunt throbs at the sound. Sticky arousal leaks into the gusset of your panties as you squeeze your breasts together between your arms, propping them up for him.

"Jus' what I needed," he praises with ravenous eyes locked on the lower part of the screen, shamelessly drinking in the image of your naked chest. "Wanna get my hands on those fuckin' pretty tits. Suck 'n bite 'em until you're cryin'."

A chilly gust blows through the trees and races up your spine, making your skin prickle under Joel's heated stare. He darkly hums as your nips pucker and stands at attention for him. "Looks like someone likes bein' a slut."

Your chest heaves, breasts lightly bouncing as an intense wave of lust sends shocks rippling through your system. His body shifts, and you hear the click of his belt before his left, flannel-clad arm begins moving up and down out of frame. A gravelly moan pours from his pouty lips and drips through the speakers straight into your quivering cunt.

"Go on, give 'em a pinch."

You acquiesce, giving into his demand and your own greedy perversion, and palm one of your breasts. Your flesh prickles as you playfully circle a pert bud and lightly pinch it, letting a soft mewl tumble into the night.

"Who's your Daddy?" He asks with a throaty groan; the muscles in his neck pulse under his freckled, tan skin as he jerks his cock.

Your cheeks flame at his words, and you can't help but pathetically whimper.

"C'mon, say it, or else I'm comin' over," he states, cocking his head with a deadly smirk that tugs at the corners of his lips. "'N we both know it'd kill him to see what a lil' whore his daughter turned into."

A gasp tears from your parted lips. He wouldn't-

"Best do as you're told, pretty girl. Don' wanna disappoint me now, do ya?"

Your eyes flutter, and you nervously lick your bottom lip, making it shine under the deck light.

"Daddy."

Syrupy slick flows freely from your cunt, drenching your panties as you softly chant the word "Daddy, Daddy, Daddy" over and over to the older man. Your cunt pulses in time with his movements, wishing he was fucking his cock into you instead of his fist.

He jerks his length greedily, faster and faster, until his neck flushes like a golden sunset, his eyes pinch tight, and he comes with a hoarse growl between gritted teeth.

Ropes of white land on his heaving chest, staining his button-up. The sight makes you lightheaded, and you fall back against the side of the house, breathless.

"Next time, I'm leavin' my mark on 'em," he gruffly declares before abruptly ending the call, leaving you to stare at your pathetic, wanton reflection in the murky black screen.

feel free to scream at me -> 💌

reblogs & comments are extremely appreciated! follow @ozzieslibrary for new fic updates!

[fanaticsnail]

Caught: Shachi & Penguin

Birthday Celebration Masterlist

Word Count: 4,200+

Themes: Shachi x afab!reader x Penguin, mdni, smut, 18+, NSFW, caught masturbating, sex pollen, first time together, throuple dynamic, preexisting flirtationship, fingering, oral, unprotected sex

Notes: Day 3 of my celebration event! I would like to dedicate this fic to @avogigi who's birthday is today! Happy birthday love! I hope you enjoy your silly boys infused with need and lust.

It all started with a flower. A small, innocent, little flower.

A flower gifted with well-met intentions by your redheaded crewmate, tucked behind your ear for safekeeping.

Venturing into an unknown destination with your crew, you all banded together and took in your surroundings. One by one, the Heart Pirates trudged beyond the threshold of the new village and respected your view of unexplored horizons. Shachi, yourself and Penguin marched toe to toe, every so often pointing out one thing or another to each other.

You had this unspoken thing with both Shachi and Penguin: the two misguided misfits of the Heart Pirates. They would never fight, nor ever engage physically in violence for your affections: but their little competition vying for your attention has begun to get out of hand in your captain's opinion

Trafalgar Law, your captain and doctor, had taken you aside to your office earlier in the month and barked at you to: “Just pick one already! They're both being unhinged idiots, and I can't stand any more of their peacocking.” It was true, both Shachi and Penguin had this peculiar way of taking their affections up a notch when the other was present. In private, they were both so shy and sweet to you, you felt called to usher them into your arms and indulge in their attention.

In lieu of following that former suggestion made by your captain, not an order to obey, you simply remained steadfast and strong in your politeness towards them. You could never choose between which of your friends to engage with romantically, and they both knew you were not going to make any decisions without a large event occuring between the three of you.

Stooping below a large trunk of an unknown tree, he easily pried a small flower from the base of the trunk by snapping it as close to the roots as he could get it. Gently and coyly floating his glasses-clad eyes over towards you, he lifted the pale petals up to his nose and took a lengthy inhale.

The pollen in the center smelled as sweet as you were to him, and he was immediately taken by the heady aroma. Slowly approaching your position by Penguin, he tapped you on the shoulder to gain your attention. Just as to turned your head, Shachi skillfully tucked the pale flower behind your ear with a mischievous smirk.

“A pretty flower for my pretty flower,” Shachi cooed down at you, moreso in a lower and more playful tone he knew Penguin would despise him for. You couldn't help but laugh at him, gently reaching for the object and untucking it from your ear to gaze down lovingly at.

“Thank you, Shachi. It's beautiful,” you nodded towards him. Gently raising it up to your nose, you inhaled from the center just as he did moments prior, “Do you know what type it is? I haven't seen anything like it before.” The fragrance felt thick, but not overall itchy or overwhelming in your respiratory system. There was something particularly intoxicating about it, but it could've just been the softness in Shachi’s expression when he gifted it to you.

Just as Shachi made to offer you an answer for your question, Penguin snatched the flower from your fingers and began to examine it. His brows knit with confusion, leering down at the center, and taking in the soft balayage fading from the base of the petals up to their unique, pointed tips.

“I've seen this in one of the captain’s medical books before,” Penguin stated softly, leaning forward and inhaling a little of the fragrance before withdrawing it from his face, “I just can't remember where it was.”

“Poisons?” you asked softly, taken aback a little by how intensely he was gawking at the stem and petals. Penguin shook his head and placed it back within the nook of your ear.

“Nah, nothing like that,” Penguin commented with a polite smile, “I have seen the description, pretty sure it was in the edible section of weeds or something,” he shrugged softly before backtracking and rephrasing his statement, “I wouldn't eat it, just in case.”

“Because that's my first thought when I'm gifted a pretty flower by an attractive guy,” you uttered sarcastically, reclaiming the flower and tucking it once more behind your ear, “‘Eat the damn thing’. Seriously, Penguin?”

Overlapping sentences of “Hey, I didn't mean it like that,” and “Wait, you think I'm attractive?” were both broken by the call of the three of your names by your captain. Surrounded by the remainder of your crew, Clione was holding a map of the area given to him by a local, and Law was assigning roles.

“Shachi, Penguin,” Law barked in an authoritarian tone, “You're on dinner. Organize it for the lot of us, and try to keep to the budget.” Next came your name, to which you smiled and stood a little taller.

“You're on ‘home duty’. The inn is there, organize with the front desk who's bunking where and unpack the essentials. We're in our own rooms for a bit while we resupply the Tang.” Law continued to delegate chores and orders, each of you listening intently to the directions before you were dismissed.

Just as he reached the last few members of the crew, your mind began to get a little more foggy, and your tongue felt heavier in your mouth. The air felt thicker, and your eyes began to sting a little at the corners as they glazed over with a foreign contemplation and sleepy haze. You attempted to shake it off by pinching the bridge of your nose and stimulating the corner of your waterline, which aided a little in drawing back your attention.

What you couldn't ignore was the neediness beginning to rise at your core. A tingling sensation started to gather at your slit as your clit quivered beneath the shroud of your boiler suit. You shook off the feeling, truly considering the fact that you had been at sea for too long, and the flirtations from both of the animal-hat wearing men may have worked a little better than anticipated.

Regardless of how the meeting went, you were thankful that Law placed you on ‘home duty’. Once the meeting was dismissed: you could set to your task: assign the rooms, gather the belongings, carefully dump them in their appropriate lodgings, and take care of your physical needs dripping currently in your underwear and sticking the garment to your skin, before the remainder of the crew got back.

What you didn't anticipate was the fact that after you did organize all of those chores, you physically couldn't cross that bridge into bliss with your hands alone. Laying on your back atop your allocated bed, traveling bag hastily thrown from the duvet, boiler suit and undergarments discarded, legs parted and slick falling freely from your quivering core, you found yourself unable to cum.

You tried everything: focussing solely on your clit with your fingertips, burying three fingers into your cunt and roughly fucking yourself with them, playing with your nipples while you attempted to move your hands more slowly, or bracing your abdomen with your forearm and hastily impaling yourself with your digits. Nothing worked.

“Hnnngh-! Fuck!” you cried out, sobbing as another high slipped through your fingers and smeared your arousal on the duvet below you. “Why-? What-?”

Closing your eyes, you began to softly sob while you plunged your fingers in and out of your needy core, bringing up your other hand to clap over your lips. All you could do was sob while waiting for your orgasm to finally grip you and crash from your core to spread through your body. Yet, every time, that swell would always sizzle and fade before it ever took root in your body.

Both Shachi and Penguin found themselves in a not so dissimilar predicament. Neither man had ever felt desire like this at any moment in their lives prior. Panting, sweating, heaving, groaning: Shachi and Penguin were consumed with the aggressive urge to claim and use their bodies to rutt and ravage.

“You started this shit,” Penguin barked at him, aggressively snatching his allocated key off the counter in the inn, “You think we're the only ones suffering for your stupidity?” The innkeeper backed away, assuming the similar uniform they were donning to yours meant they were a part of the same crew.

“I know, I know,” Shachi whined, the groceries in his arms weighing heavy and encumbering his ability to walk more hastily. “If you would've said something earlier, I wouldn't have fucking plucked the damn thing and gave it as a gift. For fucks sake.”

“Oh? So now it's my fault?” Penguin snapped back at him, stomping up the stairs towards the rooms where they were allocated, “Be thankful I was the one to tell Law about it. If not, we wouldn't have gotten the fucking antidote.” Penguin began to turn the key into the latch, letting out a groan as his painfully hard erection brushed against the front seam of his boiler suit.

Just as Penguin managed to twist the knob and push open the door, his ears pricked at the mention of his name. It only spilt in a voice below a choked whisper, but his heightened senses from the illumination of the pollen managed to decipher it amongst the white noise.

“Fuck,” Penguin whispered, stumbling in his room, “Throw the groceries on the counter, I don't think we've got much longer until the antidote won't be as effective.”

“Right,” Shachi said in response, immediately moving his body with each agonizing step towards the counter. As soon as he managed to place the contents on the marble surface, he used his palms to brace his weight against the surface.

Each part of his body felt alight with the flames of lust, each part screaming for a cure within the thralls of passion. Both Shachi and Penguin agreed, as soon as they learned what the flower was, you needed to be given the antidote before either of them could take it. They refused medical attention, much to Law's chagrin, and forced themselves to complete their chores first.

As Shachi took a moment to steady himself, his ears burned at a soft sound whimpering from the adjoining room.

“Did you hear-?”

“-We’ve gotta move.”

Both men sprung into action: Penguin with the vial from Law clutched firmly in his grasp, and Shachi who had been exposed far longer to the pollen as either of them.

Penguin tried to remain level headed. Get in, give the vial, sit and wait for it to come into effect, and apologize for his friend profusely for accidentally dousing you with a potent aphrodisiac. That was his plan.

Shachi’s was much the same. Go in, beg for your forgiveness, grovel at your feet and watch as Penguin administers the cure for what was plaguing the three of you.

As soon as they barged into your lodgings and their eyes found your body, their jaws grew slack and their chins tilted down to take you in. Fingers buried and curling deep within your pussy, brows furrowed and eyes scrunched shut, their names were spilling from your lips as you attempted to reach the cusps of your bliss - only to immediately sob when it flew away once more.

If your name was called, you could barely hear which one of the two called it. Too lost within your own ministrations to care, you reached your unoccupied hand out for the closest person near you. The only thing to break you out from your hypnotic stimulations was the door slamming tightly shut behind them.

“I-I can't s-stop,” you whimpered out, the crude squelching from your cunt continuing to ring throughout the room, “H-Help. Please?” You moved faster, spreading your legs and uncaringly began to put on a show for the intruders. You hoped they were the men you needed them to be, and not some poor maintenance crew coming in to change over the supplies within the fridge or refold the towels. “Penguin, Shachi-... I need you. Please, I need you.”

“Fuck-.”

“-Shit.”

The vial slipped from Penguins grip as he immediately pounced towards you. He knelt at the foot of the bed, slowly prying your hand away from your core and replacing it with his own. His stiff cock was propping up the waist of his boiler suit like a pole to erect a tent, but his mind still grasped the fact that you needed to understand what you were asking for while you could still speak.

“Sweetheart,” Penguin uttered softly, rubbing gentle and soothing circles on your aching clit, “You've been-... fuck you look so good-... You've been hit by a violent aphrodisiac. Can you understand what I'm saying?”

“I-I know-!” you whimpered, hips bucking up and trying to get more feeling of any part of him within you, “Y-You guys-?”

“-It was the flower,” Shachi shuddered, holding the wooden door frame to hold himself back from springing forward and prying Penguin away from your body to replace his with his own, “Are you still wearing-... look at how good you are, letting him play with you like that-... Are you still wearing it?”

Reaching up, you grabbed the flora from behind your ear and tossed it over the side of the bed. Shachi nodded, feeling choked by the amount of heat within his boiler suit. “To answer your earlier question, us too. Not as bad as you, but yes.”

“Wh-What do we do?” you sobbed, eyes opening and looking past Penguin at your pussy towards the redhead, “Shachi, what do I do? I-I’ve been at this for two hours now, and each time I try-... fuck-!” You arched your back, feeling on the edge of an orgasm by Penguin’s hands and expecting to fall away from it.

Only you don't.

Screaming out in relief, your world shatters like a stone through glass against Penguin’s fingers. Your body convulses around his motions, riding through the first waves of ecstasy in what felt like a painful lifetime. Penguin did nothing to hold you back from your bucking, only chasing you with his hands while he aided you through your high.

“Cumming?” Penguin asked coyly, his eyes dark with lust as he watched your pussy pulse and clench around absence, “Good, sweetheart. How do you feel?”

Taking a moment to steady your breaths, you nod while panting through your recovery. After gulping back some essential breaths, you felt the need once again rising in your abdomen, but manageable as opposed to the way you had been feeling for hours.

“Need more,” you nodded, reaching down and grabbing Penguin's wrist, “I need a cock in me, now.” Penguin groaned needily at your confession, his precum tinting his briefs beneath his boiler suit with pearls of viscous desire.

“Who's?” Penguin asked softly, again reaching for your sensitive bud and drawing soft and senseless patterns against it. You chose to angle yourself on the bed, prying yourself from Penguins hands and leaning with the edge of the mattress tucked firmly within your neck.

“I am going to close my eyes,” you utter firmly, doing as you suggested and clenching your eyes shut, “And in three seconds, I better have someone’s cock in my pussy and the other’s in my mouth or I feel like I'm going to die. One.”

A shuffle of motion occurred immediately, shifting materials pooling at ankles and casted aside with haste small choked words of “But,”, “Who?” and “Where?” we're quietened by the haste of your next word.

“Two.”

“Sweetheart, if you could just hold on a minute while we get situated-.”

“-Please see reason, sunshine. I can't thrive under these conditions.”

Shachi quickly found his drooling cock head against your entrance, his eyes rolling back in his skull as he carded it through your folds. Penguin tapped your cheek with his tip, indicating he was ready for you whenever you chose to part your lips to drink him in.

“Three,” you gasped, gently flicking out your tongue to tease Penguin’s cock gently, “Use me. I need to feel you cum in me, wherever you choose to fill me up.”

Where Penguin chose to halt his actions, Shachi was simply too far gone under the influence of the pollen. He was never this consumed with arousal, and he truly felt if he wasn't buried up to the hilt within you, he would keel over where he knelt.

His cock slipped in with an ease that held him speechless, your clit brushing with the small patch of red public hair he manicured at the base. Shachi shuddered as he rocked his hips from side to side, nestling completely within your pussy and holding onto your thighs for support.

“Shachi-... fuck, that's so good-!” you whined, opening your eyes and gazing lovingly at the cock presented in front of your lips. “Pen, what's stopping you from fucking my face? Need you!”

Penguin knelt down in front of you, piercing you with his icy eyes before pressing his forehead to yours.

“I do want to ravish you, don't get me wrong,” he confessed with a humorless laugh, “But neither of us have even kissed you yet.” Penguin leaned forward, his chin brushing with your nose while his lips hovered over your own, “Seeing as though Shachi gets to claim that beautiful pussy for himself before me, I should at least get to kiss you first.”

“Kiss me,” you whisper softly, your need once again swelling in your stomach as Shachi began to gently retract a small portion of his cock and steady himself before slamming it back in. As Shachi thrust forward, he shifted your body which made your lips collide with Penguin’s in a firm and lustful kiss.

Penguin adjusted his lips immediately, moving his hands to grasp the back of your neck and hold you steady. Shachi picked up his pace, rutting into you with an easy rhythm that forced your eyes to roll back into your skull. The kiss of the dark-haired man became intense and heavy, his tongue brushing and colliding messily with your own while the redhead’s pants began to pick up in intensity.

Pulling away from your face, your voice spilled out a whine that shot lightning directly to Penguin’s cock now presented to you.

“Be a good little thing and open your mouth for me, would you?” Penguin purred down at you, using his hands to find your forearms and wrap them around his ass, “C'mon. Easy does it now- Oh, fuck-!”

Penguin flung his head back the moment your lips parted to take him in. Shachi tried to ignore the whine that the other man made, but the twitch of interest in his cock raking against your walls was undeniable in feeling at home with his friend and himself taking you together.

Shachi rose your leg up to hook your knee over his shoulder, turning his head to huff and pant into it in a bid to silence his needy cries. Penguin’s own breath hitched when he peered up at Shachi lost while buried deep within you.

They had never really considered both enjoying you together, should their private courtship of you amount to anything. Their assumption was likely a one week on, one week off situation, never together. But as Penguin let out soft little whimpers at the feeling of his cock being taken by your lips, Shachi let out groans that were a little deeper to complete the pornographic symphony.

Your mouth and pussy was too stuffed full of both mens cock, all you could do was whimper out small cries in bliss at finally being met with exactly what your body was craving.

“Good job, j-just like that,” Penguin stumbled, gently rocking his hips against your face while you pawed at his ass to draw him closer, “Fuck, you feel so good like this.”

Shachi could barely articulate any thoughts of praise. His lips clashed against your thigh as he felt the coil in his abdomen wind tight as he teetered on the cusps of crashing into ecstasy. Sucking and biting at the flesh of your leg, he let out several intense whines as he drew closer to his edge.

Reaching down between your thighs, he thumbed at your clit while drawing his cock in languid and heavy thrusts deep within your pussy. With each in-thrust, his sighs and whines began getting louder and higher in frequency.

“N-Need you to cum, sunshine,” he whimpered against your leg, increasing the pressure against your sensitive bud with his thrusts becoming more urgent, “Can you do that for me? Cum for me? Wanna feel you when you do. Please?”

You could barely whisper out a yes, only humming through your confirmation and bobbing your head more desperately against Penguin's thick cock. Upon hearing Shachi beg to feel you cum for him, salty bursts of Penguin's release began to dart over your tongue in soft spurts.

“Sh-Shit-!” Penguin cried out, truly expecting he would have more time before he flooded your cheeks and throat with his release, “Oh fuck, I'm cumming-!!”

“Fuck-!” Shachi whined in a long drag, feeling you clench around him at Penguin’s confession. Penguin using your face so needily and messily caused your own orgasm to ricochet off his own like a chain of lightning. Your pussy clenched and pulsed around Shachi’s cock, which in turn sucked him in in hard contractions. Shachi immediately began to spill over in hot ropes of white, flooding your walls with his own accumulation of bliss.

The three of you rode out your highs, Penguin pulling out and dribbling the last of his spend on your chin and chest from his position above, while Shachi burried himself deep within you. You felt tears of relief begin to sting the corners of your eyes, finally feeling the joy that finally found its home with the three of you together.

Shachi dragged your body down the bed, messily peppering your shoulders and neck in a cluster of grateful and overwhelmed kisses. Penguin stepped away to the bathroom, your ears pricking up at the sound of running water from your personal ensuite. You felt your neck thank Shachi for drawing it to a more comfortable position, your throat now raw with the rate you chose to suck Penguin’s cock with.

Penguin returned with, hot, damp towels, and begun to rub your face affectionately to rid you of any of his remaining mess. Slowly moving his cock out of your core, Shachi swiped the towel from Shachi to romance you with soft drags against your pussy to clean you of his spend.

“How do you feel?” Penguin asked quietly, crawling on the bed beside you on all fours, and tilting his head to check you over. “Need more, or has it dissipated for now?”

“I-I think it's dissipated,” you nod slowly. Slowly examining his face while Shachi cleaned you up, you felt yourself become a little shy to his eyes beaming down at you with the softest expression of love. Shachi completed his small duty of cleaning you up before rising to his feet towards the doorway.

Stooping low, he picked up the oral antidote and returned to your side. Popping the cork top of the liquid, he slowly drew it to your mouth and tapped your bottom lip twice.

“Say ‘ah’, sunshine,” he smiled down at you, slowly offering you a few drops before offering the same to Penguin, and then to himself. Turning to the bedside table, he took note of the time beginning to draw close to the end of daylight.

“Penguin,” Shachi spoke slowly with a soft groan, “Cap said we're on dinner duty.” Penguin had yet to tear his eyes away from you, only doing so to lean towards you and press his forehead against your neck. “We gonna cook or-?”

“-I’ll call the front desk,” Penguin whispered against your neck, kissing your collarbone softly and covering over the small marks Shachi had peppered you with moments prior. “I'll take it out of my cut of loot.”

“There's a few of us, Pen,” you whispered, feeling need once again rise at the pit of your stomach that was entirely your own, “It's one hell of a expense.”

“If I get to stay right here,” Penguin whispered, drawing his hands to tickle at your stomach in soft, swirling patterns, “I'd say it's worth it. I'll be skint for a bit, but I'll make it.”

Feeling a little awkward, somber, and out of place, Shachi gulped back his defeat at earning your affections and began to shift the materials at the floor to redress himself. Locating his socks, he placed them in each of his boots while untucking his briefs from the legs of the boiler suit.

“Where you going, Shachi?” Penguin asked softly, “We can make the call from up here. No need to go down there if you don't want to.”

“No, no, it's fine.” Shachi confirmed with a smile, feining joy at your soft moment together, “You guys just sit and bask. I'll go organise the dinner, then I'll just go and read in my room before bed time. Yeah?”

“No,” both you and Penguin utter in unison, one of your arms and one of his extended out to invite him back. “Here, now,” you clicked your fingers and gestures to the mattress he was just laying on.

“You sure?” Shachi asked, his eyes rounded and pouting innocently, “I know I messed up with the flower, and I shouldn't interrupt what you guys have going on-.”

“-All of us,” Penguin uttered sharply, “Together, you hear? Always together.”

“Always together?” Shachi asked, his feet gently stepping closer to the bed. Shuffling his knees up on the mattress, he gently crawled beneath your other arm and nuzzled against your neck. His lips found your skin and pressed a soft kiss against it while making himself comfortable. You let out a content sigh, drawing your hands up to lace in locks of raven and auburn.

“Always together,” you whispered in confirmation.

Food will have to wait for your crewmates, the call to the front desk being at the back of your minds while the three of you began to navigate this new covenant forged between you. Three as one, and your hearts swelling enough to love each and every in their own way. You were their partner, and they were yours.

Always together.

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory @jadeddangel

🎶Happy Birthday to Me 🎶

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[yorsgirl]

Angels like you

Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: A chance meeting with a stranger in a bar leaves you wishing for more. For the first time in a while, fate decides to bless you.

Tropes: Smut, mild fluff, One night stand AU

Warnings: Intoxication, strong language, explicit smut, fellatio, cunnilingus, fingering, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, implied shower sex, No curse AU, implied age gap, usage of nicknames, no mentions of y/n.

Word count: 3.6k

Divider credits: @saradika-graphics

Disaster of a date is what you call it.

No, you aren't exaggerating. It is genuinely a disaster.

Firstly, your date arrives half an hour late at the chosen restaurant. While you could empathize it to be the possibility of being a communal issue (something which afflicts Tokyo often) what you found intolerable was the amount of arrogance he exuded upon his arrival. A mere apology or any excuse would have sufficed; you received none. Instead, he got seated opposite you and proceeded to criticize the restaurant's ambiance, lamenting over and over how there were far better options for this meet-up.

Secondly, if it wasn't evident from the dreadful outset of the date, it certainly did when the lack of chemistry started to show its fangs. His tastes exuded extravagance while you stood as a mere pedestrian before such opulence.

No sooner did the meal conclude and you stepped out of the commolex that you swiftly informed him about an urgent matter with your roommate for which you had to leave immediately.

Pathetic lie? Certainly.

Whether he saw through it or not, it eluded you. Yet, you were grateful that he didn't probe further and let you walk off on your own. Maybe, he isn't wholly irredeemable. Or maybe, his impression of this date wasn't so far from yours.

You'll find the answer to that some other day.

The cool liquor cascades down your throat, leaving a searing trail in its wake. Seated on a stool of a bar you frequented with your friends, you drown out the cacophony of noises permeating from the crowd under the guise of alcohol. Most of the disturbances emanate from the boisterous fraternity boys who're seated at the further end of the bar. Its irritating enough that your evening has been a lamentable failure on top of that you can't even find peace.

You could surely go back to your dorms but it's a Friday night and your roommate is working on something that requires her to bring in some friends (one of the reasons the date was set for tonight). Thus, your chance at peace will remain zero. You lose track of how many shots of liquors have passed your lips as the bartender places another drink of the same in front of you.

Five? No- maybe six? You reach for the shot glass, momentarily muddling your count and starting anew. Typically you don't drink this recklessly but today you do, considering you've to pull yourself back to your dorm later, this is a bad idea.

The bartender presents you with another drink - white wine, something you didn't order. You raise a quizzical eyebrow and he gestures to your side. All of a sudden, you're very much aware of the stranger sitting next to you. 

Though the alcohol in your system makes it difficult to focus your gaze, its difficult to look past someone with such a captivating visage, ivory locks falling over his brow and eyes tinted with a hue of azure which glows under the artificial neon light. A couple of years older than you but he looks undeniably handsome. Chiseled jawline and thin lips which look too soft for their own good. Clad in a grey dress shirt and q pair of blue trousers; he doesn't look any less than a celebrity. With the top two buttons left open, it gives you a generous view of his collar and toned chest which peeks out. Despite being seated next to you, he exudes an aura of confidence which only accentuates the palpable height difference between you both. 

You blink and a boyish grin tugs on his lips as he tilts his head to the side. "Hello there," He gestures to the drink placed before you. "Think you can use one of that."

Fuck- that voice.

You momentarily shut your eyes before reopening them, glancing at the drink with suspicion. His face can act as a good bait to hide his true motives but you know better. Men can never be trusted. Especially when they are dober and you aren't.

"I'd rather not-"

"You seem like you need something lighter."

"I am fine with this," You raise your shot glass to your lips before downing it. The substantial liquid leaves a bitter aftertaste and you suppress the urge to cringe.

"Now, easy there," He snickers. "Just cause you got dumped-"

"I wasn't dumped."

"Oh?" He raises an eyebrow. "Then a case of forbidden romance? Not allowed to meet your love like Juliet?"

"Would've been so much nice if she just listened to her parents," A sarcastic smile plays on your lips. "A hell lot of less drama and a lot more lives would be saved."

"Not a fan of Shakespeare, I see." He comments, the corner of his lip quirks up.

"The last thing I want to do on a Friday night is talk about medieval literature." You concede and he nods.

"Fair enough." For a second, the man stays silent and you are again back to your solitude. The next, he speaks again, "Then what brings you here, tonight? A pretty girl like yourself shouldn't be alone."

You pinch your lips, recalling the awful date you were stuck into, only moments prior. You sigh, pushing your shot glass away. "I went to a date and... it was terrible."

"Oh," He sounds genuinely surprised but doesn't comment on it. 

Well, that gives him brownie points. You rest your palm on the back of your hand, shifting your gaze which lands on him. Icy blue eyes stare back at you with an intensity that flushes your cheek red. You instantly look away.

A coy smirk slips on his lips before he starts, "Here's an idea. How about I make this evening better, eh? Let me buy you a drink."

Your breath hitches. Did he just- You scrutinize your eyes and the skip of a heartbeat eludes you. The offer doesn't sound bad but in an alcohol-induced state, you need to be aware of who you put your trust in. "And why do you offer this act of service?"

"Angels like you deserve all acts of service," He says softly, ending it with a wink.

And- oh Goodness...

"So what do you say, Angel?"

You drum your fingers over the countertop. Weighing the pros and cons of the situation. For all you know, he can be just another creep but till now he hadn't made any advances to make you uncomfortable, so there goes that. Plus, if he's offering then why don't you indulge? 

You find yourself nodding and he grins. Moments later a glass of white wine is clasped in your hands, similar one with the same drink in his. You raise up the glass and he follows suit, bringing it closer till they clink; sound drowned out from the music and external chatters.

"Thanks," You say after taking a sip. "What's your name?" 

"Gojo Satoru but just call me Satoru," He replies. You nod, saying his name a few times to get the gist of it. His eyes shine with amusement, he asks "And you, Angel?"

A sly smile curves up your lips as you tilt your head to the side, "Just call for me Angel for now."

Satoru smirks and your eyes meet again. Drunk individuals and loud frat boys long forgotten as you find yourself captivated just by his gaze alone. His eyes rake over your figure but you find yourself less guarded. The tension emancipates, he must be feeling it too. Is this the part where you say something? Or do you wait for him to start speaking?

In that trance it is that Satoru hands you another drink, fingertips lingering on yours for a second too long before they glide away. In that trance it is that he speaks again, and you find yourself answering. In that trance it is that conversations swing back and forth with equivalent quips from each side which incites a chuckle here and there. You find yourself letting your guard down as he indulges you in stories of his life. It could be the alcohol for that you find yourself being interested. Or maybe its him that just knows how to create a safe space around him – somewhere you could be just yourself.

You swallow a lump as you find yourself leaning towards him. His knee touches your thigh, the skin contact sends a electrifying spark through you. No sooner did you realize that it happened that you realized he was getting down from the bar stool. A pang of disappointment courses through you but you don't let it show on your face.

Then, the unexpected happens.

Satoru takes your hand in his, the warmth of it enclosing your cold one in a way that you didn't want to let go. He tugs at it, a suggestive glint in his eyes as he looks at you; something which must be gleaming in yours too.

"Will you run away with me?"

.

You blame it on the alcohol when it happens.

"Will you run away with me?"

Of course, you said yes.

Of course, you let him lead you out of the bar filled with people only a drink away from collapsing.

Of course, you stepped into Hotel de Elysium with him.

And of course, you let him kiss you once you were alone in the room.

Satoru's lips move in a sync against yours, he walks you backwards until your back is pressed to the wall. He parts a hair's breath away, eyelashes flutter as he takes in your flushed state – parted glistening lips and cheeks tinted with a red hue. You are a bit tipsy to carefully note any change in his visage. Yet, through the blur you are damn sure that you see him smirk.

His mouth presses on yours again and what starts as a soft, slow paced kiss transitions into a fiery, fervent liplock in a matter of seconds. Arms wrapped around his neck, your fingers tangle in the locks of his hair.

You hear him groan in your mouth when you tug on the strands and your lips curl up.

Satoru glides his hand down the curves of your body, finally resting on one of your breast. He kneads it over the fabric of your dress inciting a moan from you. His lips trail down to your jaw and neck, sucking on the sensitive skin of the juncture. Your body tingles with sparks flowing through your veins and you involuntarily lean into his touch.

You have to give it to him that Satoru is a damn good multitasker. For while he is busy nibbling and leaving hickeys on your neck, he reaches to unzip your dress, pulling down the neckline as the garment pools near your ankles.

He momentarily detaches his lips from you, looking down at your, now exposed, body. "Fuck– Angel, you're gorgeous." The words of praise and the lust burning in his eyes are enough to send a shiver down your spine. Thoughts jumbled and your lack of sobriety allows you to not be that embarrassed. He pulls you flush against him, holding you by the hip and his lips come down on your again.

"Mhm, yeah–" You moan into his mouth as his tongue prods and engages in a rhythmic dance with your own.

Not the one to back down, after you part, you instantly reach to undo his belt. He chuckles, "Eager, are we?"

"Yes," No need to lie when the tension is already sky high. Switching both of your places, you fall to your knees and unzip his pants. The bulge of his cock straining against his briefs causes you to widen your eyes. His member springs out and for a second, you lose your mind. He's big. Both in length and girth, mushroom tip tinted with a blush pink. Maybe you have had seen others before but you're damn sure he is one of the biggest you'll know.

"Like what you see, Angel?" His voice drips with arrogance and boy- don't you hate that? Yet, too drunk on lust with a short circuited brain can barely think, you answer by swirling your tongue on his tip before latching onto it.

"Shit," Satoru curses under his breath, fisting a handful of hair to establish a grip. "Yeah, Angel. Ah– like that"

You bob your head up and down, taking him in as much as your mouth allows. His head tips back, swallowing a lump in his throat which is unfortunately not enough to hide his moans. You lick and suck him like a child eating a lollipop, stroking the base of his cock as your fingers run over the erogenous veins.

You're sure he is enjoying himself. Even more when you gagged on his cock and more when you lool up at him, fluttering your eyelashes �� feigning innocence.

Your determination to give him the best head ever gets rewarded soon after.

Clothes discarded and back pressed on the creased, silken sheets, Satoru works his tongue on your aching cunt like a starving man getting his first meal in days. He swipes and nibbles over your erectile bud, pushing two fingers inside as your walls clamp down on his digits, enthusiastically.

"Ahh– Satoru, ngh– yeah," The moan induced gasp incited from his skillful mouth makes your back arch, pushing yourself into his mouth. You could feel him smirk against your pussy, hot breath fanning over the sensitive skin as he firmly holds you in place via your thighs.

You are light headed and you don't even register the string of curses that flow out of your mouth. The only sensation is how he delves into your folds, rough hands pressing on your thighs and the need to release all of your pent-up tension.

You're close. Your muscles are twitching. So close. He's eating you out so well, swiping your spots and folds that you wonder if your fingers will satisfy you again.

"Ahh– fuck," You curse aloud, the wave of pleasure washing over you.

You don't get a second of rest after you come down from your high. Satoru is hovering over you, hard cock pressing on your thighs as he looks for a condom before you shun him, "We don't need that, I am on the pill."

"Are you sure?" He asks again, concern pooling in his irises.

"Yes," You nod in conformation and he takes his cock in his hand, positioning himself in front of your entrance. He coats the tip with the essence of your pleasure and hence, plunges in.

The gasp that escapes and your widened eyes are enough evidence of how much and how good he stretches you out. He yanks out the all before shoving back inside your cavern again. Each stroke pushes him deeper into your depths as your folds welcome him graciously.

A fire burns in your body as both of you indulge in this dance of your own. Wanton moans and curses escaping your lips which you pay no heed. "Yes- Ahh Satoru– like that- ahh."

A sheen of sweat marks itself on his body, beads glistening down his well-defined abs. He interlaces his fingers with yours, holding you firmly against him while he continues to move inside of you.

"Shit– Angel, gnnh– feel s'good." Pupils dilated, messy hair and groan induced with pleasure. He looks at you with an amalgam of emotions, none of which you can read with your stupor as he keeps on fucking you dumb.

Mouth open wide, you try to breath in as much. Each stroke hammering right upto your chest, he fills you up so perfectly that it has your eyes rolling back in your head. Making you feel like a virgin all over, your velvet walls suck him in eagerly

The room reeks of lust and sex, filled with you and your partner's pleasure filled sounds. You feel your insides twitch and soon you let out a scream, milking him with your cum. Only a few strokes later, he empties himself inside you.

You feel him collapse beside you. For a minute, both of you lie there silently, staring at the ceiling and letting the exhaustion slide of off you.

The smell of sweat reaches your nostrils and you cringe, "I'll take a shower." Sitting up, you attempt to rise, before that Satoru takes a hold of your wrist. You glance back, "Hm?"

"I'll come with you." Said so, he gets up as well. He holds you by the waist, helping you walk to the bathroom.

White tiled walls and floor greet you, skin feeling awfully cold against the hard surface. You turn on the shower handle, the sprinklers pour down water on your tensed body and you sigh in relief. Satoru stands beside you, the water runs over his skin as well, drenching each sinew and crevice of physique in it's droplets. You take a harmless peek at him, must not be to your surprise but he's staring back at you.

Only the water pouring from the shower head emanates the bathroom.

Yet with the droplets running over you, it would be ironic to say that the spark still burns. But it does. And oh well- Satoru's lips presses over yours again and you response with equal fervour. Pushing you back against the wall, he holds you by the waist, other hand reaching down to grope your ass.

He pulls away, looking down at you with the same glint in his eyes which he had at the bar.

"Ready for round two?"

Blame it on the alcohol again.

Of course, you said yes.

.

You wake up alone.

Greeted by the splitting headache as you wince trying to sit up on the sheets. When did you fell asleep, yesternight? Well... you don't know that either.

Glancing around you find your belongings, neatly kept at one corner of the bed. A frown falls on you seeing only your pair of clothes kept aside.

Satoru and his belongings are gone.

Sluggishly you put your feet down on the cool tile. That's when your sight falls on the nightstand. A glass of water and a packet of Antacids rests on the table. Only after you have taken the medication did you notice a note kept under the glass.

Hey, some urgent work came up so I'll be leaving early. I could've woken you up but you looked so peaceful that I can't. Order breakfast if you want and don't worry, all the bill's on me.

I had a good time, last night. Thank you, Angel.

–S. Gojo

.

The weekend passes by a bit too fast and before you know it, monday rolls in.

Last year of college and nothing can go wrong until your professors decides to torment the students by asking them to make three files – project, practical and investigatory – for the semester exams like last year. Fingers crossed, you just wish fate doesn't play you this time around.

Currently, you sit beside your best friend in your university classroom as she prattles about her weekend. You keep up with her conversation, speaking in between when the moment calls for. Though your attention should be on her, it relays back to Satoru and that fateful night.

Never in your wildest dreams did you think you'll ever end up having a one night stand but- oh well... here you are.

It's easily one of the best sex you had in the longest time and you can't help but hope for more. Satoru seemed to just know how to make it work and damn, you were addicted after one taste. And the way he called you Angel made your stomach churn in a way- unexplainable.

Is it a bad idea if you decide to show up in the very same bar, the next Friday? Is it bad that you are hoping to meet him again?

You snicker inwardly before pouring all of your attention back to your friend.

"–and on my way to class, I saw this handsome hunk in the hallway and Girl- I was just..." She breaths out, hearts twinkling in her eyes.

"Good grace," You sigh. "You're smitten, now who's this new one who caught your eye?"

She sheepishly smiles and starts to fill you all the details then ranges to his looks. "I saw him in the corridors, talking to Principal Yaga. He was like so tall and he's got blue eyes, like oh my god- more perfect combination just can't exist."

A smile quirks up your lips at her enthusiasm, "Ask him out then."

She sighs, "I wish."

"Why?"

A frown etches on her brow, "Cause he's supposed to be our new professor."

"Wow," You breath out, almost sarcastically. "Your choices are... spectacular."

She shoots you a scowl and you snort in return. Folding her hands over her chest, she speaks, "You'd be smitten if you see– Oh my God! That's him." She points behind you and on cue you hear another voice echo in the classroom.

"Good morning, Class. I am your good looking teacher Gojo Satoru."

Wait- that name, that voice...

Instantly, you crane your neck towards the direction of the voice and- may God help you.

Oh fuck!

"Oh fuck!" Your friend gushes from beside you. Though the curses match, both of you share antagonistic emotions.

And there he is, your one night stand or maybe now, your new professor.

Satoru's eyes scan the classroom before they stop their train on a familiar face, so does his steps halt. His eyes widen like he has seen a ghost.

You are pretty sure, your expression mirrors him as well. And you don't know how but you do hear him muttering under his breath.

"Seriously?"

Seriously.

Fate truly does hate you (love you).

[grogwrites]

The Sound of Sunshine - L.N. 4

Part One • Navigation

Summary: Lando vacations in Hawaii for the first time over the winter break, where he meets a carefree surfer who turns his world upside down

Pairing: Lando Norris x Female OC

CW: alcohol consumption and some swearing

A/N: yayyyy it’s here! Idk how many parts this will have so we’re all just here for the ride heheh. As usual, I do not utilize YN, so OC is a named character xx 🌞 this series DOES have a playlist I put together—it is linked below 💛 Divider is by @enchanthings-a

Word Count: 2.2k

* DISCLAIMER: I do not know any of the people in this fanfiction personally, these are all just the works of my imagination.

Lando’s POV

He was probably on his fourth piña colada as he drunkenly sprawled out on the beach once more. Fresh off the Constructor’s Championship win, and Lando felt phenomenal. Taking a solo trip had been on his bucket list for a while, so he figured there was no better time to take it than after securing the historical title for McLaren. After all, he deserved it.

The familiar taste of pineapple and coconut burned down his throat blissfully. His sunglass hung low on his nose, as he enjoyed the relatively quiet beach. Hawaii had been wonderfully welcoming for his first two days—the girls on the beach were definitely a contributing factor. His eyes grazed through every bikini-clad body in the vicinity until his eyes landed on her. He sat up a bit straighter, even going as far as to take off his sunglasses to get a better view. He had to be sure he was seeing things correctly, because she was gorgeous.

Her dirty blonde hair was braided back into a ponytail, with a few colorful beads woven into some strands of the hair. Her skin was lightly tanned, and she stood next to a light blue surfboard that was painted with various little drawings and illustrations. Each drawing was a bit eccentric. There were some two-headed giraffes, some weird blob things, fruit with eyes…weirdly enough, Lando found the art style creative (despite how utterly trippy it was). She wore a blue surf suit that correlated with her board. Her hands were on her hips as she stared out to the ocean, seemingly lost in thought.

Maybe it was in the way she held herself, or perhaps it was the over abundance of rum circulating through his system, but she radiated sunshine. If the color yellow was personified, it would be the mystery girl that Lando was admiring from afar. He watched as she picked up the board, then treaded into the water. She moved with such precision and grace, it was almost like a dance. Each step, each little movement, was calculated and thoughtful. He brought his knees upwards, then leaned against them, watching as she sat on the board.

Lando didn’t know anything about surfing. He saw the movie Soul Surfer once and it was basically enough to deter him for good. Shark attacks? No thanks. But as a large wave came her way, he watched as she fearlessly stood on her board. It was fascinating to watch in person, as she effortlessly rode the wave with no issues in the slightest. Lando didn’t even realize his drink was gone again until he was met with the horrible bits of pineapple at the bottom of the glass. He grimaced at the texture as he set it beside him. He watched the girl swim back to shore with her board, before she started cheering, and running over to her friends.

Lando didn’t even notice she was here with other people, though his head was so foggy from the alcohol that he didn’t think he’d notice anybody else on the beach if they weren’t her. Despite the overwhelming tunnel vision he had from the rum, she was still brighter than the sun in his eyes. He wanted to go talk to her—he desperately wanted to; but he knew that if he were to go over there in his current state, it wouldn’t end well. He couldn’t talk to someone as beautiful as her while he was this far gone. It’d be way too hard of a hit on his ego; it’s not a risk he’s willing to take.

Then, she looked over at him.

Lando’s whole world seemingly stopped. The small action could’ve sobered him up instantaneously; it was like a bolt of lightning straight through his heart. Then, she smiled. Maybe it was the fact that he was drunk and dehydrated, but he decided to write his sudden dizziness up to love at first sight…but then again, he’d always been a hopeless romantic when he’s wasted. And right now? He was definitely wasted. As he drabbled himself through a lecture on drinking too much, he hoisted himself to his feet. He grabbed his towel off of the sand, then shook it out.

“You, uh, look like you had too much fun.”

Lando turned, and thought for a moment he was going to throw up. Part from the rum, and part from the fact that she was right next to him now. She folded her arms across her chest, with a playful smirk on her lips.

“Huh?” He choked out as his face immediately flushed in embarrassment. He watched as she bent over, picking up his empty glass from the sand. She brought it up to her nose, sniffing it lightly.

“Piña colada?” She laughed in amusement, meeting his gaze again. “You know, rum just makes me puke.”

“I, uh—“

“Did you forget words today, pretty boy?” She teased, with her tone light like a song. Lando was utterly hypnotized. Every slight movement she made, every word that fell from her lips—she was like a drug. He soaked in her presence like it was something he couldn’t live without. She extended her hand towards him confidently. “I’m Kailani, but everyone just calls me Kiki.”

“Lando,” was all he blurted as he took her hand in his. He probably held his breath for the entirety of their brief handshake, until he dropped it once more. “Sorry, I just, um, can’t think straight right now. That was my fourth one.” Kiki’s eyes widened as she looked at the empty glass, then back to him.

“Holy shit, Romeo,” her voice was laced with amusement. Lando was surprised at the sudden vulgarity in her speech. “I can barely get past two. You must have a high tolerance for alcohol.”

“I mean, I party a lot,” Lando drunkly shrugged. “Plus I sometimes get sprayed with champagne at work—if I win, anyways.”

“Is that, like, a sexual thing?” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Who the hell gets champagne at work? What are you even winning?” His face was beet red almost instantly.

“Holy shit,” he buried his face in his hands. This was going horribly for him. “No, fuck. Sorry. I’m a Formula 1 driver? You know, the champagne celebrations on the podiums?” He looked back at her, but her expression was blank—like his explanation went right over her head.

“I’ll pretend like I know what that means,” she finally said, punctuating her sentence with a wink. “Soooo, you’re clearly not from Hawaii, given the accent.”

“Bristol,” Lando clarified, though the word barely came out in any sort of understandable fashion. “I was born in Bristol.” Kiki smiled.

“Hmm,” she hummed before holding out her arm. “You can barely stand up straight. Let me help you get back to wherever you’re staying.”

While Lando had enough shots at his dignity today, he definitely wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to put his arms around her—he’d be fucking stupid if he were to reject that offer. After all, she was the one who suggested it. It’d be rude to decline, truly. He gave her a lopsided smile before swinging his arm around her shoulders. She smelled like coconut sunscreen, which, just then, became Lando’s new favorite smell.

“You’re pretty,” he found himself slurring before any ounce of sober Lando could try to stop him. Kiki just laughed as they made their way along the beach, towards her surfboard. Her friends had seemingly disappeared, leaving it at just the two of them.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” she stated. “Maybe when you’re sober again, we can grab a drink—non-alcoholic, of course. You’re cut off.” Lando raised his eyebrows, then looked down at her.

“Does that mean I get your number?” He asked, trying not to sound too giddy (and failing miserably). Kiki just smiled, but remained quiet. Lando groaned at her teasing, then looked ahead once more.

“Let’s see how long I last with drunk you first, Romeo,” she commented. Her arm left his back far sooner than he would’ve liked, sending an ache through his chest. His arm dropped down to his side as she picked the board up. “Where are you staying?” She faced him again, but Lando could barely process his thoughts. He was never a big fan of brown eyes, but perhaps brown could be his new favorite color, too—he was discovering an abundance of new favorites today, with her.

“The resort down the block,” he finally responded. Kiki whistled.

“That’s pricey,” she wiggled her eyebrows at him as she wrapped her arm around him once more. “Romeo’s got money.”

“I’m a celebrity, you know,” Lando bragged, though it wasn’t much to be impressed by in his drunken state of mind. “I can’t believe you don’t know what Formula 1 is.”

“I don’t have a TV,” Kiki explained simply as they began walking again towards the parking lot. Lando’s eyes narrowed. No TV? He guessed it wasn’t completely unheard of, but still, odd nonetheless.

“You could look me up on Instagram,” he proudly suggested. “I’ve got nine million followers.” Kiki stopped in front of an old, beaten up pickup truck. It was a horrible teal color with rust along the tire rims, and chipped paint on the doors. Lando looked down at her. “There’s no way this thing runs.” She tossed her surfboard in the bed of the truck before unlocking the passenger side door.

“Oh, she runs,” Kiki met Lando’s gaze with a mischievous smirk. She studied him intently, with her eyes grazing his body from head to toe. Lando cleared his throat as she opened his door. “And I don’t have a smartphone. So that cancels out your Instagram proof, Romeo.” Lando tentatively climbed into the truck as she shut the door behind him. No TV, no smartphone…what did she do for fun? Lando couldn’t really comprehend why someone would willingly go without those in their life—how did she keep up to date with anything?

“How do you call people?” He asked as she climbed into the drivers seat. The truck barely sputtered on as she put her keys in the ignition. She laughed before backing out of her parking spot.

“I have a phone,” she clarified, “just…not a smartphone.” He watched as Kiki reached down—rolling down her window with a small lever on her door. Despite his speechlessness at how off the grid she seemed to live, Lando couldn’t help but feel a smile tug at the corners of his lips. It was refreshing, in a way.

“I couldn’t last twenty four hours without mine,” he admitted with a drunken laugh. “I’ve got people calling me constantly. Whether it’s about work or media appearances…it’s exhausting.” Kiki laughed along with him as she stuck her free arm out of the window while she drove. She leaned her head back against the seat, sighing.

“God, I couldn’t imagine,” she stated. Lando rolled down his window, then watched as they drove down the streets of Honolulu. “The only time work calls me is if the school is closed for inclement weather.”

“School?” He repeated. “You work at a school?”

“Elementary music,” she clarified. “We’re working on our Christmas program right now.”

The truck began to slow as she entered the parking lot of the resort. It was about as busy as it was when Lando first left it over five hours ago. He subconsciously let out a long sigh, dreading going inside. While taking a solo trip was nice, there were too many people at the hotel who seemed to recognize him. Plus, getting out meant leaving Kiki—he didn’t exactly want to do that just yet. He turned his head to find her already staring at him, which prompted another crooked grin from him.

“A music teacher,” he cooed. “A surfer and a music teacher? Weirdly fitting.”

“Do you need help getting inside?” Kiki questioned as she shifted the vehicle into ‘park’. Lando lazily shook his head.

“Nah, they’ll spread rumors,” he murmured disappointedly. “I can see the article now: Lando Norris spotted with an absolute babe—“

“Oh god,” she laughed. She pushed a few loose strands of her damp hair behind her ears. “Then I guess I better give you my number so I know when you make it to your room safely.” Lando eagerly grabbed his phone from the pocket of his swim trunks.

“Well, of course,” he agreed while passing her the device. “For safety purposes.” Kiki took it from him, with her fingers gently brushing against the back of his hand. He stared dreamily towards her, watching as she added in her contact information. When she passed it back to him, Lando felt like a kid on Christmas.

“I cross my heart that I will let you know when I’m in my room,” he said as he put his phone back in his pocket. He opened the door, then hopped out of the truck.

“Oh,” she clicked her tongue in disapproval, “sorry. I only deal in pinky promises.” She held her pinky out to him. Lando rolled his eyes, but accepted the gesture anyways.

“I pinky promise, then,” he hummed. “Drive safe, Juliet.”

* None of my writing is available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are appreciated.

©️ grogwrites, 2024

Taglist:

@lilaissa @cabbyhabs @gogeroni @fat-meh @xivilivix @henna006

[blkkizzat]

Peak inside the drafts possibly???😩

heyy nonny what do u want a peak of? lol i list my wips an i just did a lil teaser game where i put a few lines/paragraphs from each story im working on. but ill repost the teasers here:

invisible man!gojo:

Lost in distant thoughts, the world around you blurs, as though seen through frosted glass—physically there, yet remote and unreachable. “My sweet girl…” A faint whisper, a gentle touch, and the slightest whiff of a familiar cypress and sandalwood scent pulled you from the abyss of your own troubled thoughts. Whipping your head around your eyes frantically shifts around the room. You could have sworn you felt the familiar feather-like caresses of long nimble fingers across your ribcage.  That’s impossible though.  The hairs on the back of your neck bristle, a primal warning prickling your skin. The air grows heavy, charged with an oppressive weight—something off, something deeper, more sinister than the inappropriate display of grandiose decadence laid out before you suffocates your senses. Shit, you had to keep it together girl.

nerd!geto p2:

The thought turns your strained smile into a genuine one and you cannot wait until you get the results and can show Suguru how all his efforts helping you study paid off and how he helped you achieve your first—HUH—84%!?!?!? “You should be proud. For someone getting Cs and Ds, tsk mostly Ds—you turned it around pretty well and the exam was proctored so no one can say it wasn’t from your own efforts.” Professor Yaga must have seen the utter look of shock on your face and mistaken it for joy however your entire world right now was crumbling. You should be happy, ecstatic even. Getting a B- on a test in a subject as hard as econ with only a few days of studying should be considered a miracle in itself —but you had been so sure of yourself. Suguru had embedded you with the confidence that you were actually smart enough, capable enough. Sure, most of all, you wanted the dick—no denying that—but it surprised you how much the thought of living up to Suguru's belief in you had driven you. And now, after utterly failing his expectations, it stung far more than you ever thought it would.

stepdad!nanami:

While you have your privacy in your own room, the halls and open living spaces all now have cameras. Nanami is immensely wealthy, that could make you and your siblings vulnerable. Besides, it was his right to monitor who you brought into his home, Nanami reasons. The men —no, the little boys —you bring into his house are an insult to him and to yourself.  Did you not know your own worth?  Barely a hair on their face, Nanami questions if their balls have even dropped. Yet you allow the unworthy swine to grope and grab all over your scantily-clad curvaceous body. You don’t care though, giggling shamelessly in front of him when their hands come up your skirt to paw at your thighs as you drag them to your bedroom. And while Nanami can’t visually see inside the room, the surveillance system is sophisticated enough to pick up the sounds. The small muffled noises of your salacious activities infuriates him as much as they make his cock twitch. Yet Nanami is almost certain from your exaggerated performances that you faking. He shamelessly replays them, honing in on your soft clipped moans that signaled boredom than anything else. You need a real man.

420!Toji:

“Ugh, crack a window, Toji! I can’t show up to class smelling like backwoods, regret and unpaid child support!" Toji’s deep, rumbling laugh vibrates against you, his chest shaking with amusement. “Heh, n'here I thought ya came round lookin' to be smoked out by your future baby daddy, mamas?” You huff, biting your lip in a faux pout, refusing to give him the satisfaction of cracking a smile no matter how much you shared in his twisted humor. But Toji’s grin only widens as he leans closer, his voice dripping with taunting amusement. “C’mon, don’t act like ya don’t love it, ma. Y'er just mad I know how needy my lil slut is.” He’s not wrong, and the smug glint in his eyes says he knows it too. Damn him.

[seranextdoor]

TIPSY ~ LEON S. KENNEDY

Summary: Fucking a bartender in the back seat of his car was the last thing Leon had in mind after successfully retrieving Ashley back to safety.

Word count: 4.495k / Warning: Mild dubcon because Leon is tipsy. Anything is just pure filth.

Pairing: Post Re4 Remake! Leon S. Kennedy X Fem! Bartender! Reader.

Author note: got horny and accidentally vomit out 4k words of leon fucking you. sorry, it's just the girl tendencies in me. read the tags to know what to expect!!! 🤍

mature contents below the cut. mdni.

Leon needed some sort of a quick stress reliever.

His knuckles gradually turned white as he tightly gripped his steering wheel. His chin leaning on his other hand, the faint buzzing noise from the radio accompanied by his soft breathing was the only company he had. Leon had debated with himself, a part of him missed his bed like crazy, all he wanted to do was bury his body between the soft cushions and dozed off into a long, serene slumber. But a part of him itches for something. He needed a drink, anything to get that surge of dopamine in his body. Need the familiar bile taste to settle in his mouth as he chugs it down his throat, letting it burn his chest.

Leon Scott Kennedy needs some alcohol in his system. Desperately.

Running his gloved fingers thru his damp hair, Leon let out a soft chuckle upon seeing a bar from afar, almost as if his desperate plea was answered by God himself. Its neon sign flashing OPEN 24/7 in bright red LED lights, he could see a few drunkards already passing out on the sidewalk, holding onto their beer bottles before he parked his car around the corner. Putting his car keys in his pocket, Leon budged open the door of the bar, greeted by the sound of the bell atop the door chimes. The heavy scent of tobacco, hard liquor and sweat was evident as it clings to the air— not to mention the odour of sex grows stronger and pungent as he goes even deeper into the crowds to reach the counter.

Leon finds himself a seat on one of the stools, an exasperated sigh leaving his lips before the feeling of someone standing over him crept onto him. He lifted his face, sparing a small, tired smile at you as you returned with a polite one.

‘Cute,’ He thought.

“You look tired, want me to fix you up with something?” You raised your voice a little, making sure he can hear you amid the blasting music as you leaned closer to him, Leon got a slight whiff of your refreshing, floral perfume. It was pleasant, a stark contrast from the stench that the bar seemed to be festering with. You were pretty, clad in a black blouse with your sleeves rolled to your elbow, a beige apron wrapping around your waist as you pressed your hands on the counter with a bright smile on your face.

“Just a shot of Vodka, please,” Leon replied, his eyes remaining trained on your face. You give his request a firm nod, turning your back to Leon as he watches you step on a stool before reaching for the bottle of Vodka on the top shelf.

“Need some help there?” Leon teased, a soft chuckle emitted from him as you rolled your eyes teasingly. “Thanks, but no thanks.” You replied to him, getting off the stool before you turned to face him again.

Putting the shot glass in front of him before you pour the Vodka in, making sure not to overflow the shot glass. “Thank you, pretty girl.” He whispered, his voice dropping an octave lower before you flash him a grin, your cheeks heating up before you remain your composure.

“Anytime, handsome.”

Sure, you’ve been flirted by your customers before. Mostly by married older men who're too drunk to even form a proper sentence, easing you into coming back home with them and they’ll show you a great time. You wouldn’t be too phased with it, assuming it was just the liquor talking— but this? This was different.

Somehow hearing this attractive man you have never seen before calling you a pretty girl sent heat coursing up your cheeks. Maybe it’s his looks or his voice, or the fact that you hadn’t been able to fuck for weeks since you were too busy with bartending and college classes hence you being fairly sexually frustrated but you paid extra attention to him.

Not that he’s complaining, Leon’s not the type to turn a lady’s attention away from him.

“You’re new here?” You strike up a conversation with him which is something you would normally avoid to do so. Leon smirked at you, chugging down the Vodka shot in one go before he let out a sharp breath. His eyes met back to yours before he cocked his head to the side, “Yeah, just wanted to find somewhere to rest, past weeks have been crazy.” He replied, his eyes shifted to the empty shot. “I might be here for a while, mind keeping a tab for me?” Leon poured himself another shot, his finger grazing around the rim of the shot glass before looking up into your eyes.

“Aren’t you too young to be bartending?"

“What are you a cop or something?” You raised your eyebrow with a teasing smile on your lips, jotting down his tab before pushing it to the side. A chuckle left his lips before Leon speaks again, “Eh, kind of. So how old are you?"

“21. No breaking laws here, officer.” Slightly raising both of your hands in the air jokingly, Leon grinned at your antics, chugging his second shot of Vodka.

“No worries, pretty girl. But why here, though? Why work in a bar?”

“It pays me well plus I needed some quick cash. My dad isn’t too keen on giving me some money so here I am.” You said, pouring him his third shot of Vodka as he smiled at you.

“How come?”

“Let’s just say he's not the nicest.” You shrugged, watching as his adam apple's bobs every time he chugged the Vodka shot down his throat. His pale cheeks already began to redden up a little, adoring his porcelain skin with a pink tint. Leon extended his hand to you and you happily accepted it, giving him a firm handshake before you exchanged introductions with each other.

“Leon Kennedy. And you are?”

“[Y/N] [L/N].”

The two of you converse for hours, pouring him shot after shot and with every shot he takes, Leon would flirt with you. He’s still pretty sober despite the high intake of Vodka shots, he seems pretty calm in his seat— occasionally winking at you when you’re serving other customers and throwing cheesy pick-up lines between the conversation.

Leon can’t lie but finds himself attracted to you, ordering more and more drinks in hopes of keeping your attention on him. He loves the way you blushed at the slightest contact of his hands or the way you would look at him back with a twinge of desire circling behind those eyes of yours. Fuck, you’re too hot for him to be this tipsy.

Once in a while when you were talking, his eyes would shift down to your lips, cock straining against his pants as you licked your lips and looked up to him with that evident obliviousness plastered all over your pretty face to his impure thoughts.

“Your total is 200 dollars. Cash or card?” You smiled at him, handing him the tab you had for him with a card reader in your other hand. Leon ran his card swiftly on the card reader before he put them back into his wallet and stuffed them back into his pocket. Shifting your eyes to the clock, a hint of disappointment could be seen on your face before you quickly muster a small smile for Leon.

“It’s already twelve? Well, it’s been nice talking to you, Leon." Untying the beige apron around your waist, you placed it on the lower counter. Leon was quick to wrap his fingers around your wrist to stop you in your tracks.

“I can give you a ride back home if you want.”

You can definitely say this was a different type of a ride back home.

“Your lips taste so fucking sweet."

Straddling his hips with your thighs wrapped around his waist at the backseat, Leon has his arm around your waist. His other hand cupped the right side of your face, circling his thumb on your cheek as you intertwined your lips with him. His tongue goes past your slick lips as his hand guides your head to tilt a little to deepen the heated kiss. Leon breaks away from the kiss, leaning his head back on the car seat as you look at him with a dazed smile.

“Shit, this is insane.” He muttered, his fingers running thru his dirty blonde hair. “What’s so insane about this?” You softly replied, your lips finding their way back to him as he happily reciprocated, kissing you back with his tongue swirling with yours. His hand on your cheek moved to the back of your head, keeping your lips locked with his as you moaned into the kiss. Pulling away from the kiss for air, Leon strokes your hair as he runs his fingers thru your locks.

“Never really made out with a girl prior after knowing her for a couple of hours." Leon chuckled, his head slightly tilted as he looked back into your eyes with a half-lidded stare. He can feel the heat radiating from your cunt and God knows how much of the effect you had on him. “Well, I don’t usually accept a ride back home from a stranger but here we are.”

“It’s a first for the two of us then.” He grinned, a devilish smirk playing on his lips before his hand removed his hand from the back of your head. Unwrapping his arm around your waist, Leon moved both of his hands and settled them on your hips. His thumb makes a circular motion on the surface of your stomach as hummed with satisfaction. “You can do more than that, can you, officer?"

Right. You don't even know what he actually works as. That’s how little you two know of each other and yet his bodies and yours slotted perfectly like two pieces of puzzles. As if the two of you had known each other forever. Leon preferred the anonymity between the two of them.

“You’re going to make me lose control if you keep calling me that," Leon chuckled, the sound of his husky voice ringing in your ears. You noticed how your lipgloss was all over his lips, the beautiful pink sheen smeared on his lips down to his chin. “What should I call you then? Daddy?”

Leon let out a groan, his smile widening at the way your voice sounded when you rolled the word daddy off the tip of your tongue smoothly— you’re can’t be teasing him when he’s this horny and tipsy. He can't even think properly, too fixated on the positions he can put you in at the back seat of his car, clouding his mind with endless indecent imagination. He swallowed thickly, looking back at your eyes as you bit your lower lip back at him and flashed him a playful smile. “Say it again.”

“Daddy.” You breathed out, eyes shooting wide when his fingers brushed against your collarbone as he pried your blouse open, sending the buttons of your blouse to fly everywhere. Your body tensed up from the sudden action, his warm breath hitting against your skin as he kissed your collarbone and stopped between your chest. “Yeah, call me that.”

“Gladly.” Pulling away from your chest, he leaned in closer to your face, pulling your face into his as he smashed his lips on yours— engaging you into a messy, sloppy kiss. His tongue forcefully parted your pursed lips, exploring every corner of your mouth as you let out a pathetic whine when he pulled away. “God, you’re so needy. My needy little girl,” You can feel the ache between your thighs building up when he called you a little girl. Your cunt throbbed against the thin fabric of your cotton panties as he slipped his hand down your pencil skirt, his index finger teasing the pulsing little clit thru the fabric of your panties in a circular motion as he softly chuckled when you began to squirm in his grasp.

“You're already so wet. You’re excited for daddy to fuck you stupid?” He whispered into your ear, shooting shivers down your spine as you nodded at his question. “Let me hear your voice, pretty girl.” Leon landed a firm spank on your ass, sending your back straight as your fingers cling to his black T-Shirt. “I-I am excited...”

“There's my good girl. Open your mouth for me.” You obeyed him, parting your lips before he stuck the same index and middle finger he teased your clit earlier. “Get it nice and wet for your pussy, baby.” Leon smiled, occasionally letting out a grunt as the warmth of your mouth and your hot tongue wrapped around his digits.

All Leon could do is wish it was his cock you were sucking, taking every inch of his shaft down your throat. He wanted to see the outline of his cock on your throat, fucking your mouth while his balls slapped against your chin as he leaves you breathless. But for now, he’d settle with fingering your pretty pussy open.

“You’re so cute sucking my fingers like that,” He breathed out, pulling his fingers out from your mouth as it let out a small pop. “Thank you, daddy.” You shyly muttered, cheeks heating up upon feeling his cock twitching in his pants and grazing against your clothed sex.

“Spread your legs up a little for daddy, baby.” Your knees dug into the cushion of his car seat as you leaned your body on his front seat. His hands helped you roll your skirt up to your pelvis. Your fingers reach down to push your panties aside, spreading the lips apart as his breath hitches. Leon mumbled a curse, his pants getting tighter and tighter by each time as he salivates over the sight of your sopping cunt.

“All this pretty pussy just for me?” You nodded at his question in which he slipped back his hand between your thighs. Leon removed the gloves from his hands before throwing them to the front seat.

“S’all for you,” Your words were slurred from fixating on the ache between your legs so much. He grinned upon hearing your answer, inserting two digits past the tight muscles as your body shuddered in pleasure. His thumb makes its way to your clit, rubbing them at a slow pace and in a circular motion. Arching your body into his touch, Leon let out a chuckle— his other hand pushing your bra up your breast before the rough surface of his palm quickly fondled your tits.

“F-Fuck... Just like that...” You moaned out, throwing your head back from pure ecstasy as his hand massaged your tit while his fingers were pumping in and out of your pussy. Apart from the sound of your wanton moans, the squelches of your cunt sucking in his fingers and the low buzz coming from the radio filled the limited space of his car. “You like that? You like getting fingered by a stranger? God, I bet you did this to all of your customers, don’t you?”

You should’ve found that disrespectful, should’ve snapped back at him for thinking that way but somehow it made you wetter. His voice was soothing and had the right amount of hoarseness that you can’t help but get off from him shaming you. Either way, you shook your head in the heat of your bliss, looking back at him with misty eyes. “No, just you, Leon... You’re the only one that I-I let you do this...”

“Good. That's what I wanted to hear from you.” He smiled before he picked up the pace of his fingers, rubbing your clit in a rougher and sloppier manner. Lips parting slightly, you gasped for air, seemingly taken aback by the sudden change of pace as your nails dug deep into his shoulder blades, gripping him tightly with the familiar knot in your lower stomach threatened to break. He loves the feeling of your spongy walls wrapped around his digits, pulsing and sucking his fingers deeper and deeper until his fingers brushed against your sweet spot.

“Oh, you love that, don’t you? Filthy whore.” The name-calling made your pussy clings onto his digits tighter as a sly smirk painted all over his lips. “Such a slut for getting off to me calling you a filthy whore, huh?” You weakly nodded, feeling yourself nearer to your limit as a whine left your lips when his fingers were pumping deep inside of you, abusing your sweet spot to its limits. Your teeth bite back your lower lip when he spits on your clit, smearing his saliva all over the bundle of nerves with his thumb.

“You’re so fucking hot, I can’t wait to have you crying on my cock.” He said in a whisper, making sure you heard him despite the overwhelming pleasure you were feeling at the moment. “L-Leon, I'm... Fuck!... C-Cummin’” You cried, not caring if anyone that walked past his car would notice how your bare body is played by Leon like a piece of instrument. God, being seen nude by people now was the least concern you had, the only thing you could think about now is finishing on his fingers.

But what’s the fun in letting his little girl have everything her way?

“No, no, I’m not letting you cum, yet.” Leon pulled out his fingers out of your sensitive cunt, wrapping his tongue around his digits as he cleaned your juices off his pruney fingers. You pouted at his words, a frustrated sigh left your lips as you leaned your head on the window. “Why not?” You asked with your eyebrows furrowed into a small frown, it was clear you weren’t happy with him suddenly edging you. His eyes on you softened before he wrapped his arms around your body, his lips pressed on your bruised lips before he gave it a little lick.

“You don’t want to cum all over daddy’s dick?” Leon asked, once again, his thumb rubbing the bone of your hip in a circular motion. His eyes looked back at yours as he put his finger under your chin, lifting your face up to make you look up at him.

“It's going to feel nicer, princess. Don't you want that?”

He was right. God, why does he always know what to say to you? He arranged words in a way that weakened your knees and sent the same aching mess rushing back between your legs.

“I do, I do want it...” You weakly replied to him. Leon doesn't think you know how pretty you are now, looking up at him with those dew eyes, the clear desperation painted across your face and the way you already began to rub your thighs together. Getting you off his lap, he opened the right door of his car. You couldn’t help but stared at his erection, straining against his black jeans as Leon unbuckled his brown, leather belt. “Come here, princess.” He gestured for you to be closer as you listened to him, inching closer to him as the cold air from the outside hits your skin. His hand reached down to tease your hardened nipples, letting a glob of his spit fall down to your chest as he lathered your nipples with his saliva and pre cum using the tip of his cock.

“It's cold, isn’t it? Don’t worry, I’d heat you up just in a sec. Ass up, face down, pretty girl.” You nodded, turning your back to him before bringing your hips higher as the leather of his car seat sticks to the sweat on your face. His cold fingers removed your panties, letting them hang just above your knees as his eyes stared at your dripping cunt with hungry eyes. A small gasp emits out of you when he tapped his cock on your slit several times, teasing your swollen clit with the head of his dick as you bite your lips back.

“Keep quiet, okay? I need you to take every inch of me like a good girl. Just let me know if it hurts.” A grunt left his lips when he pushed the tip past your lips, his other hand holding onto the doorframe of his car while the other settled around your waist. Leon wanted nothing but to push his cock and filled every corner of your tight cunt but he controlled himself from doing so. After all, the last thing he wanted to do is to hurt you after how sweet you are for him this whole night. “The head’s in... I’m going to start pushing more and more, okay?”

“O-Okay...” You whine, breathing heavily as your chest heaves up and down in an erratic pattern.

“Fuck, [Y/N], you need to stop sounding like that before...” Leon cut himself short, by now he was already halfway in you, the feeling of your velvet walls throbbing around his cock made his mouth dry before a shaky breath left his lips. A low whimper guttered out of his throat as you trembled under him, allowing him to bury his cock deeper and deeper into your pussy until your ass met his pelvis. “Feel that, princess?”

You moaned out a high-pitched yes to his question, throwing a glance at him over your shoulder as you looked at him through blurry vision. Salty tears clinging to your lashes with your bruised lips parted slightly, your eyes looking back at him with nothing but sheer desire. Leon spared you a smirk, pushing back his hair from his face before his hand landed yet another spank on your ass— seemingly turned on by the way you yelped and squeezed around him.

“Keep your eyes on me while I fucked you like the filthy whore you are.”

Leon begins to rock his hips at a slow pace, making sure you’re still adjusting to his size, his eyes shifting back and forth from your face to the way your cunt wraps snugly around his cock. Leaning closer to you until his chest pressed against your back, Leon planted a kiss on your earlobe. “You’re making me drunk from how good your pussy is, baby.” He said, kissing down the nape of your neck before he stood up back straight and began to move his hips faster.

This might just be the relief Leon needed after all of the fighting he had to endure.

“Hey, no looking away.” Every so often, he’d spanked you for not looking him in the eyes. He needs to see every contortion of expression on your face while you locked eyes with him. Leon knows you struggled to keep your eyes open, losing yourself in the pleasure as his throbbing cock goes in and out of you at a steady pace. And Leon loves it. He loves making sure your eyes are still on him, whether by spanking your already sore rear or suddenly thrusting deep inside of you to hear the small little scream you make when you’re surprised.

“Sorry, daddy.” And every time he does that, you never fail to apologize to him between your choked sobs and broken moans. It was endearing to watch, seeing you try your best to not disappoint him while he’s fucking your pussy raw in the back seat of his car. The shape of his fingers is already bruising into the skin of your flesh, the mixture of both pain and pleasure sending you over the edge as you curl your toes every time the tip of his cock grazes against your cervix. The prominent vein on the side of his cock rubbed against your walls with every thrust, fishing muffled moans out of you.

“Touch your clit for me, baby.” You’re so pathetic like this, being fucked in the backseat of a guy you just knew a few hours ago. But you knew what would happen the second you agreed to a ride back home from him. Not that you regretted it, being dicked down by Leon has been nothing but heaven for you. Obeying to his order, your hand travelled down between your thighs, putting your index finger on your swollen clit before easing it in a circular motion. “Good girl.” He growled, picking up the pace of his thrusts before he stopped in his tracks. Sweat hanging at the tip of his hair as he looked down to the ground, the pleasure was too much for him.

He can just cum any second now if he moves. Taking notice of his sudden pause, you grind your cunt into his dick, pushing him back into the warmth of your pussy as his eyes shoot wide. “F-Fuck, baby, you can’t…” He stuttered, the feeling of your tight cunt pulsing around his cock and the way your ass bouncing on him was too much for him to handled. Gritting his teeth, Leon pushed your head back down onto the leather seat, his other hand keeping a firm grip around your hips as he started to snap his hips at a rougher pace.

“Fucking slut, can’t even give daddy a rest.” He cursed under his breath, his cock ramming into your pussy deeper as if he were moulding the shape of his dick into your sweet cunt. Every last of self-control left his body the second you started bouncing on his cock. Leon couldn’t care less at the fact that you had already cummed on his cock once or how he rendered you into nothing but a crying mess— all he cared about is the high he was chasing.

Leon needed that sweet release. He needed to cum deep inside of your pussy despite having no rubber on. “I'm going to cum inside, baby, fuck, fuck, fuck….” You probably can’t hear it but Leon finds it adorable how you’re nodding your head to whatever he said. Throwing his head in pure bliss, Leon finally comes undone inside of you, shooting sticky webs of his seed deep into your cunt before he stays inside of you for a couple of minutes as he catches his breath. His cum overflows out from your pussy the seconds he pulls out, dripping down between your thighs and dirtying his leather seat with his cum and your juices.

“You're so pretty like this, [Y/N].” He groaned, putting his pants back up. Leon fished out his cell phone from his pocket, pressing the camera icon as he started recording.

“You’re recording…?” You asked, instinctively hiding your face from the camera as he laughed. “Yeah, I wouldn't want to forget a moment like this.” Leon calmly said, his fingers running between the lips as he scooped up his cum and started writing his initials on your lower back. He dragged the white, translucent liquid as he formed the L. S. K. alphabets on your skin.

“Perfect.”

p.s send me any thirsts (dc are welcomed) abt leon pls or carlos or any cod members. thank u ♡ english isn't my first language so if any of the sentences sound weird, just ignore it!!!!! anyway, thank u 4 readin’ this messy pornfic lol

[lavandulawrites]

The Wine Connoisseur

Yandere Mori x reader

Masterlist

Warnings: imprisonment, manipulation, slight mention of murder, Elise is Mori’s daughter

Word count: 716

Mori was a peculiar man. His love for the city admirable. He was cruel and calculated. His predictions never wrong. He never shied away from violence, but rather welcomed it. He valued ambition and loyalty. His daughter, (who you came to know after awhile where his ability, an extension of himself) was spoiled to the brim.

It had surprised you when you had asked him what he would do if he wasn’t the boss of the Port Mafia and he answered you truthfully. It might have been the expensive wine you both had in your system or the intimacy of you two, you didn’t know. He had looked at you with such earnest and gentleness “If I wasn’t the boss of the Port Mafia, I would have opened up an orphanage”. You had only looked at him in shock. To imagine the cold and calculated man could have a so tender wish like that m, almost seemed surreal.

You could never fully understand Mori and he never gave you the chance. He was an imposing figure who captured the eyes of everyone whenever he entered a room. He was undoubtedly a handsome man. His charismatic smile swooning woman and men alike. It wasn’t a secret that the woman of the Port Mafia all had a little crush on him.

When you first met him was at a wine conference. You and many others were completely unaware that the notorious Mafia was amongst the quest.

The black haired man was clad in a expensive black dress with dark crimson details which matched his eyes perfectly. He had eyed you all night long and finally approached you after he was down with his business. Even his gait was striking.

“Enjoying yourself?” his voice deep and smooth. In his was a wine glass filled with deep red liquid. He gently swished the wine and took a sip.

You two talked all night long about all and nothing. At the time you were completely unaware of his true identity.

Weeks past and you two became close friends, but you still felt that you didn’t know him. When you asked about his occupation he said he was a doctor. When you thought back on it, he had indeed been truthful. At least to a certain extent.

You threw your head back and glanced up at the ceiling rose. You were so lost on your thoughts that you didn’t notice the man behind you. Your eyes wandered to the person behind the couch. With your position everything was upside down. Mori smiled and chuckled at your position.

“I see that you like the new ceiling” he chuckled. “I am glad the restoration of this penthouse paid off”. He discarded his red scarf and took a seat beside you. He loosened his tie. It has been a gift from you before all this.

You sighed as you removed your gaze from him. “I still don’t understand why you go to such lengths. No matter how much money you spend on me, I won’t change my mind”. You change your position so you were more upright. “I still want to leave. I want to experience the world, not being locked up here like some damsel in distress” your eyes narrowed.

His lips curled up into a smirk. He hummed as his fingers drummed on the backrest. “You don’t know what you are talking about. What is it to explore? Nothing. It’s absolutely nothing. You have everything you need here and more. And regarding your desire to leave…” he moved closer to you “Believe me when I say I will change your mind. It’s only a matter of time. The human mind is rather fragile”. He filled the two wine glasses that stood on the coffee table with the wine he had brought with him and gave you one of them. He raised his glass. “To our future and our relationship” he clinked his galas against yours.

The wine rich and tasted awfully similar. Your eyes went to the bottle that laid in its silver ice bucket. It was the same wine you both shared at the conference all those months ago. Suddenly the sweet wine tasted as bitter as the bile taht had rose up your throat at the sight of your slaughter friends.

[garagepaperback]

absolutely love your fic recs omg! do you have any recs for authors who are currently still active? i'll read anything but i'm a big fan of stories that take their time and have a slow slow slow burn.

aww thank you for the ask! here are some of my top-tier favorites from ~active~ authors, varying degrees of slow burn:

probationary action - @toomuchplor

this fic is like being in a carnival funhouse where the walls are writhing, panting, dumb-hot, rigorously perfect smut and then slowly, slowly, you recognize all the mirrors and the warped floor are actually soft, glancing sentiment and crisp prose and then you make it back outside to a big, real, aching world. in the parking lot you will have also important thoughts about the punitive justice system.

Harry breathes out a sigh, dropping his face into the open palms of his hands. “Thank Merlin for you, Neville,” Harry says, looking up again. “You really are the best of all of us.” “I’m not,” says Neville, “but I do want to see you happy, Harry.” Harry reaches out and squeezes Neville’s shoulder fondly. “It must be very interesting, dating Malfoy,” says Neville, standing up. “He uses a lot of sex spells, doesn’t he.”

la, who am i to love you? - @epitomereally

a masterpiece! i'm actually getting sun-soaked dazed eyes just thinking about it. perfect, heat-scoured (the riddled-with-light skies! the la fires! the radiant blooming gardens! the fucking pool!) lush location, one of the most interesting takes, and still true-to-the-marrow depictions of harry, draco, pansy, luna - the list is endless. also so hot, and so dear. even the traffic feels dreamy.

“Maybe you could list the pros and cons of moving to LA for me, Harry,” Dr Goldstein prods. Uncomfortably, all Harry can think is Draco, Draco, Draco.

the july tree - @oknowkiss

:,) this is so sweet, fun, hot and adoring from another masterful prose-maker. everything that is glanced at feels so naturally done, the vividness creeps in before you're liable to fully realize you're in fact reading and not truly looking. explorative and understanding. 10/10, wonderful, a hundred gold stars.

His neck was in shambles from where it had been bent over to one side. He tried to move but there was a heavy weight on his shoulder. He looked down and saw Potter had fallen asleep on him. Potter’s hand had slipped between Draco’s legs, just above his knees, and then the train came to a stop and Potter woke up as well, lifting his head, his glasses slightly crooked. Draco wanted to go back an hour and keep himself awake, so that he could feel Potter on him, warm and heavy and unguarded. Instead he’d had only a few seconds before Potter sat up straight, stretching his arms overhead. He smiled at Draco before standing, resting his hand on top of Draco’s head as he walked by. It was lovely, and intimate, but all Draco could think of was the hour he’d slept through, an hour of time spent with Potter he wouldn’t ever get back, his brain repeating over and over, I missed it.

cut from the sky - @mallstars

so much of what i'm desperate to say about this fic is [redacted] for spoiler reasons! such a raw romance wound around an incredible, engaging, heart-stuttering plot. i'm jutting my lip out and there's a vacant ache in my ribs where my heart's supposed to be over this one. lovely, queer, splendid, just perfect. god.

"Please," Harry heard himself say, though he didn't quite know what he was asking. Draco kissed his forehead. "Of course," he replied. "What would you like?" Harry shivered, watching the runnels of water against Draco's flushed cheek. "Please," Harry said again, dropping his head against Draco's leather-clad shoulder, thinking of his hotel room, of stumbling into Draco's store tomorrow, calling him Malfoy and pretending his days didn't revolve entirely around him, "Please don't leave. Please don't leave just yet."

gallows-bird - @jtimu

i want to describe this one with eight knife emoji's and nothing more. four chapters in and every single one individually has ruined my day. it's wonderful, dreary, just enough gray that you'll wonder if the glint you thought you saw was hope or just a trick of the light. highly recommend, misery loves company, come on through.

There hadn’t ever been anyone to soothe Harry’s hurts. To fuss over his skinned knees or brush his hair back from his temples with tender thumbs, too coo softly over a scrape. Comfort was something he’d learned secondhand, dear and hard-bought, and so sat there with his fingers twisted together, knuckles like knotgrass, and tried to wrench the words out. He wanted to touch, instinct told him that much, but he lacked the framework for how and where, and so he didn’t, and they sat there together in a thorny silence.

from love, obviously - @starsworth

counting even though bizarrestars is writing mostly (lovely! gender-explorative! wonderful! wolfstar and also black familial fic currently) not drarry because just god damn. an essential read for me. weirdo, phenomenal draco and the best teddy in the game, easily. hilarious but in that way where your breath snags after laughing really hard and the moment sort of echoes.

"You were kissing," Teddy says. "I saw it."  Harry's eyes sink shut for a moment, and he drags a hand through his hair, which Draco may have accidentally made a mess of, then he blows out a deep breath and opens his eyes. "That's—well, that did happen, yes. That was…something we did."  Teddy's eyes narrow. "I thought you were mortal enemies."  "Mortal enemies kiss…sometimes," Harry says weakly, clearly out of his depth here. He grimaces almost immediately after he says this, then seems to remember he's the adult out of the two of them and coughs, standing up taller. "Nevermind that, you'll understand when you're older."

close behind - @oflights

oh my whole fucking heart. destroyed! adrift! she died how she lived. reading this feels like listening to music, something sleek and melodic, and when i actually consider the masterfully-rendered level of complexity in the plot, it feels like trying to peer into the belly of an actively-playing grand piano. certainly does not hurt to be an enormous fan of eternal sunshine of the spotless mind, orpheus and eurydice myth, and general suffering <3

“It’ll be all right,” Draco said again, and Harry swallowed the rest of his words. He couldn’t let them out here, in their bed, in their home; not yet. And his body didn’t know how to say what he wanted it to, not with Draco this close. Harry didn’t know how to tell Draco that they wouldn’t be all right, not in any language. Not yet.

[luminetti]

Dressed to Kill

༘⋆ Summary: In which, you, a professional cosplayer, mistake Bakugou’s hero outfit for a really good Halloween costume. ༘⋆ Pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader ༘⋆Warnings: n/a, reader is just the biggest dumbass (lovingly) also, i cannot stress this enough. they are NOT CHILDREN in this. they’re both at least the age of college seniors  ༘⋆Notes: huge thanks to one of my biggest inspirations for writing in general: @andypantsx3 ! this fic is lightly inspired by—and lowkey a lovechild of—her pieces, baby are you playing tricks and unconventional, so if you somehow haven’t read those yet, i strongly recommend doing so!  also now that i actually have more than one piece of writing, id love for some writer/fandom moots! im very new to tumblr and would love friends :’)  ao3 release

Halloween was by far your favorite holiday. 

As a child, you were always drawn to Halloween, not just for the candy, but for the extravagant costumes and house decorations. Nearly every year, you stayed up late with your father, hand-sewing various details onto your costume. Finally, for your eighteenth birthday, you were gifted your very own sewing machine which officially kickstarted your interest in cosplay.

Throughout your first couple years of college, you worked on your Twitter account, posting quick mirror selfies of your various cosplay projects. Only during senior year did you finally feel comfortable enough to go out in public for your first official photoshoot.

‘Comfortable’ was a bit of a stretch. Very seldom does one feel truly comfortable when posing in front of a grandiose fountain in the middle of a public garden, fully clad in foam armor. What made it significantly worse was when the aforementioned armor looked more like a metal bikini than an actual chest plate worn into battle.

Poor character design choices aside, you loved Halloween for that very reason. With everyone dressed up–or down, for some–there was no reason to feel self-conscious during your monthly photoshoots. Sure, there was the occasional snide remark, but the number of supportive comments from passersby was enough to quiet your uncertainty.

This year you had stayed up late for the past month putting the final touches on your purple staff, even attempting an LED system that allowed parts of it to glow. It had taken two weeks to get the prototype of the dress situated since you weren’t used to sewing such a large amount of detail into your fabrics. Unfortunately, this also meant it took significantly longer to finish the outfit than expected, leaving almost no time to do your wig. But, in true cosplayer fashion, you managed to whip something together with an older purple wig, just in time for tonight.

You did, however, only realize the character also had a sword occasionally, but there was no way you were going to make that in time so the staff would have to suffice.

The night had already been proving to be one of the best so far. Starting around eight in the evening, you and some of your closest friends had gotten together for a costume party, a series of shitty horror movies, and a plethora of even shittier cheap cocktails. Despite not being much of a drinker yourself, you always participated in the annual spooky-themed cocktail charcuterie. This year you weren’t holding back. Your pride and joy charcuterie consisted of nine drinks including, but not limited to ghost-themed Aperol Spiritz–nicknamed Spirit Spiritz, Bloody Marys, and your personal favorite, Bonejitos. They even had little skeleton dudes sitting on the rim of the glass.

Unfortunately, your friends weren’t very amused by your festive drinks, even going as far to say your ingenious Bonejitos were a stretch. So, clearly they didn’t see the vision. Eventually, the party events died down as the guests began to go home, allowing the night to evolve into just drinking.

“Did you get a photo of your costume yet?” Himari, your friend from freshman year, questioned.

You shook your head, absently watching as the rest of your friends downed your masterly made Bonejitos. Liars, all of them. “‘A stretch’ my ass,” you scoffed.

Himari dug around in her bag, retrieving her camera. “Halloween photoshoot? Your fit is cute and I’m getting bored here.”

You did like the idea of photography-major level photos with none of the price involved. “I love you, Mari.”

She stuffed your spear under her arm and with that, the two of you stepped out into the cold and crisp autumn air, the breeze running over your bare shoulders and thighs. You shivered lightly, pulling up your thigh-highs and hugging the excess fabric close to your body.

Himari glanced at you in concern. “Does the Raiden Shogun not wear a jacket?”

“Unfortunately, she doesn’t.” You chuckled, rubbing your arms. “You can’t be sexy and wear a jacket,” you joked.

She hummed in sympathy, looking around for a good place to set up. The park was a particularly popular spot during Halloween, specifically known for its comforting lighting and ambience.

 “What about there?” Himari pointed to a small gazebo surrounded by violets, lit up by a string of fairy lights. There were a couple groups nearby, but otherwise it was pretty much empty.

You nodded, excited. “Good eye as always, Mari.”

She handed over your spear and offered an arm,helping you step up onto the platform and underneath the gazebo. While she adjusted the lights to her liking, you took a moment to adjust your skirt and sleeves.

“Do you think it’s too short?” you asked, tugging on the cloth. Thankfully the character wore a pair of shorts underneath, but the dress was barely miniskirt length.

Himari looked over briefly before turning back to the lights. “No, not really. Why? Are you uncomfortable?”

Before you could answer, a group of college-aged girls passed by the gazebo, clearly a bit drunk. As they left, one of the girls that was hanging onto her friend’s arm looked over. “Don’t be, girlie! You look hot as fuck!” she shouted out, words slightly slurred.

You flustered, blabbering out a quick thanks in surprise. There’s nothing like a friendly drunk girl to get your confidence up.

From behind the camera, Himari gave you a thumbs up. “Give me one of these.” She mimed leaning against the wooden banister. “Yeah like that, but with your leg more out.”

The shutter clicked several times as you did your best to recreate her gestures.

Himari proceeded to guide you through a series of poses, occasionally having you incorporate your staff or the gazebo. Eventually you got used to the flashing camera and allowed yourself to melt into the character, embodying her essence as best as you could.

Time flew and before you knew it, Himari was calling you down from the gazebo to look over the photos. You hovered over her shoulder as she flipped through each one, pausing at her favorites.

“I’ll import these onto my laptop and send them back edited sometime this week,” she told you, removing her glasses and wiping them off with her sleeve.

You nodded. “Thanks for doing this, you really didn’t have to.” You rummaged through your bag, hoping to find at least a little money for her efforts. Feeling a couple bills between your fingers, you held them out to her.

Himari’s eyes squinted and you realized she was staring over your shoulder. “I think that guy in costume was looking at you,” she said, still cleaning off the lenses.

You turned to see a tall man across the park, large grenade shaped gauntlets resting on both his arms. He quickly looked away once he saw your head turn. Looking closer, you realized he was dressed in a dark black sleeveless jumpsuit with orange and green straps along his body.

He was clearly a Dynamight cosplayer. And by the looks of it, a really talented one at that.

You were almost convinced that he had real hero equipment on. His armor pieces were strikingly accurate, and you made a mental note to look for more realistic prop materials.

“He probably spent a lot of time on that,” you mused to Himari, who had already gone back to inspecting the photos.

“You should go ask him about it.” she suggested, collecting the rest of her things and zipping her bag. “I’ve gotta catch an Uber soon.”

Maybe it was the lingering confidence gifted by the girl from earlier, but you managed to muster up enough self-assurance to wave goodbye to Himari and stride right up to the cosplayer.

As you got closer, you realized just how much work must have gone into all the details. The gauntlets–a very convincing metal–had several dents and scratches, giving it a worn down look, as if it had been used frequently.

His hair looked far too real to be a wig, likely just being his natural hair with lots of product in it. The most impressive detail by far was his physique. Had he trained specifically for this? The closer you got the more you noticed. If you were lucky, maybe he’d give you the name of his supplier.

“I love your outfit!” You smiled cheerily at him.

He turned to look at you, slightly taken aback. “Thanks?” he replied, folding his arms as he looked you over, eyes lingering on your cosplay.

You felt a twinge of anxiety as he inspected your outfit. He probably just didn’t recognize the character, you convinced yourself.

“I’m a cosplayer too,” you clarified, gesturing to your dress. “But clearly not as dedicated as you.”

You watched as his chest puffed lightly at the compliment, though he titled his head, a bit puzzled.

Clearing your throat awkwardly, you tried a different method. “How long did it take to make?”

He blinked at you and shrugged. “Dunno. Maybe a couple of months? I just told them what I wanted.”

Oh, you got it now. He’s just a model. It wasn’t uncommon for people to collaborate on cosplays, especially ones where one person either commissions or buys a cosplay from an artist, and then models it themself. Either way, he was still one of the best you’ve seen.

You nodded in understanding. “Do you have social media? I’d love to see what else you’ve done.” Pulling out your phone, you loaded up your Twitter, preparing to enter his tag.

“Dynamight Official. All one word,” he replied hesitantly, looking you up and down as if he was scanning for signs of sickness.

You chuckled faintly. He was really dedicated to his role. “Well, what's your name? I follow a lot of cosplayers already. Maybe I’ve seen you?” You pulled up your profile and turned the screen around to show him in case he recognized your tag.

His arms unfolded and his face slowly morphed from confused to exceptionally amused. “Bakugou Katsuki. I am Dynamight.”

Waving him off absently, you nodded as you scrolled through your followed accounts. You swear you’ve seen him online before. “Sorry, I’m not really good at roleplay. But you’re pretty convincing.”

He leaned against the cold metal lamppost, watching you sift through various Twitter accounts. You sneaked a glance to check his facial features again, but he was already staring straight back at you.

In such close capacity, his striking crimson eyes stood out to you. Even his contacts were high quality… Fighting back the warmth that threatened your cheeks and ears, you averted your gaze downwards.

Your eyes flicked to his waist. You hadn’t noticed it before, but a thick black bomber jacket was tied tightly around his torso, unlike the real hero’s costume. Well, you stand corrected. You certainly can be sexy with a jacket.

Speaking of jackets, you had been so caught up in conversation you hadn’t realized how cold it had gotten. The soft breeze from earlier had picked up into chilly wind, rustling the fabric of your dress as it blew by.

Bakufaux–haha–seemed to notice your interest in his jacket, untying it and tossing it over your shoulders. “Bit cold for you, Princess?” he drawled. “D’nno how you’ve managed in that outfit.” He gestured to your short dress and tall socks.

You couldn’t help but notice how his gaze lingered on you for a half second longer than normal. Not that you would’ve said anything. Thanks to his jacket, you were enveloped with warm and musky scents of charcoal and sandalwood. Though, being honest with yourself, you’ve been distracted ever since you walked over.

You snapped out of your trance when he pushed himself off the lamppost and leaned over you. It could’ve been twenty degrees out and you’d still swear you were overheating.

“Ever considered cosplaying in my costume?” He asked, watching your darkening cheeks closely.

Maybe it was the shit eating grin he wore proudly on his face, or the sneaking suspicion in your gut, but you had an inkling of a feeling he knew something you didn’t. In a surge of confidence and curiosity, or perhaps just pure adrenaline, you took a step forward.

“And if I have?”

Something snapped behind his eyes and you could’ve sworn his gaze dropped to your lips. He might’ve actually kissed you if you weren’t interrupted by the sound of glass shattering and the screams of customers inside a late night coffee shop.

You felt your heart rate increase as he swore under his breath, whatever smug expression he previously had was replaced by something far more intense and serious.

‘“I’m not leaving you out here alone, stay close to me,” he urged, taking one last look at you before turning and running towards the sound.

It took you a second to realize you were running behind him as fast as possible.

As the two of you neared the coffee shop, you noticed numerous shards of glass laid out on the concrete. On a second glance, you noticed some of the smaller shards were beginning to melt, turning the ground slightly slick.

You halted to a stop, almost crashing into your new friend. You felt a warm hand snake around your waist, lifting your body off the ground and onto a nearby bench.

“Don’t touch the ground, and stay right here,” he told you sternly, before turning and rushing straight into the cafe.

You watched, frozen in astonishment, only able to hear the horrific sounds of glass and… explosions? Occasionally you caught a glimpse of blonde hair, dropping off a poor customer caught in the crossfire, before dashing straight back inside. In what felt like seconds, he had already retrieved nearly every patron from the cafe, all while the villain was still inside.

Quickening footsteps approached from behind your place on the bench. You barely had a chance to comprehend the noises when a flash of red zipped past you, making a beeline straight for the cafe. Only after several trips in and out of the building did you finally recognize the eccentric costume of Pro-Hero Red Riot as he gathered the remainder of the victims outside.

Through the ringing in your ears you could only vaguely make out shouting between Red Riot and someone else still inside the building. It was all intelligible until he turned to you and the victims. The last words you heard was look away, or at least you assumed.

You weren’t interested in waiting around to find out so you shut your eyes tight and turned away from the scene as best as you could.

At first nothing happened. But after a beat, you felt your eyes burn behind your eyelids as a blistering wave of heat surrounded you. You think you screamed, but you weren’t entirely sure. Every muscle in your body tensed as the bench shook underneath you, threatening to break.

But as quickly as it came, it passed. You couldn’t tell how long you had been trapped in that position, clutching your knees to your chest with your eyes sealed shut. A warm hand shook you out of position, jostling your eyes open.

When your eyes finally adjusted, blocking your vision of the cafe was none other than a tall silhouette, and familiar red eyes.

“Hey, stay with me, Princess. You hurt?”

You felt calloused hands hastily press against your body, examining you for injury. He took a hold of your ankle, easing you into extending. “Anything?”

Shaking your head, you gripped onto him as he lifted you from the bench to your feet, steadying you with strong arms.

“Happy Halloween,” you managed to mutter meekly into his chest.

You felt him shudder beneath your head as he laughed, surprisingly heartily.

“Certainly one you’ll remember.” His low voice resonated in your brain, calming whatever nerves were remaining. “Let’s get you home, m’kay?”

You let him navigate you back to your apartment surprisingly deftly given your shaky directions, until finally you found yourself thanking him at your doorstep and shutting the door behind you.

Now that you were home and given a chance to breathe, you weren’t sure what was real. Everything mixed together in a blur and you couldn’t tell if it was all a dream or not.

As you groggily slumped against your bed, you felt something soft bundle against your back. Sitting up, you reached behind your back to feel the cool fabric of the black jacket you had been holding tightly against yourself. Embroidered on the sleeve were a pair of initials you hadn’t noticed before.

B.K.

With a strange pounding in your chest, you pulled out your phone.

Sure enough, you had one new notification.

@DynamightOfficial followed you back

The device buzzed in your hand with a second notification. A direct message request alongside an image. Swiping to your messages, you opened the text from your new follower.

Front and center was a quick photo of Bakugou’s hero costume, laid out neatly on his bed. Directly underneath the image were two small text bubbles.

u take commissions?

ive got something in mind for ya

[minkieater]

one dream, one city, two boys, endless possibilities ✮

ONE ➺ the city masterlist | next as a junior at NYU, you just landed your dream internship. you didn't think a shot at your career would come with secrets, mistakes, and drama... at what age do you really start to grow up?

it's that time - my series is here!! my babies!! my friends!! hope everyone enjoys, all of our friends from luck, carousel, and three fates are here!

w. alcohol consumption, relationship issues, a bunch of fucked up college kids doing fucked up college kid shit MDNI 18+ wc. ~12k

♩— the city, the 1975  “yeah, you wanna find love then you know where the city is.”

after five long hours of drowning in some sort of painful claustrophobia you finally peeled your headphones off your ears, immediately taking a hand up to your ear to soothe your cartilage piercings that still haven’t healed after years of having them. 

past eleven, it was far later than when you should’ve left. you told yourself you’d only spend an hour in the studio tonight, but that thought was long gone after the first hour of being in the leather chair, especially after the first frustrating ten listens of your most recent project. with a tch you rip your hard drive out of the system and pack up, with all intentions of heading out to catch the train back to your apartment across manhattan.

11:21 pm wooyo: come out of your cave and come to prince wooyo: its friday

you yawn, rubbing your eyes vigorously — you need to invest in a pair of blue light glasses. pulling your bag over your shoulder, you respond with a quick ‘be there in 20’.

as you turn to pull the door open, someone else opens it from the other side, “oh shit, my bad.”

a small sound of shock left your lips, feet nearly leaving the ground in panic. your eyes cross the possible perpetrator, the man is massive and his voice is deep. you froze for a moment, arm still held out in front of you to open the door, stuck somewhere between fight or flight. you snap it back to join your other hand in holding the strap that hugged your shoulder. 

“i didn’t mean to scare you,” he chuckles, ring-clad fingers jutting out in apology, “i didn’t think anyone else would be here this late.” you almost shudder at the deep rasp to his voice, eyes shifting to his oversized hoodie, baseball cap tucked under the hood, paired with baggy jeans that overflowed his seemingly new sneakers. 

“i was just leaving anyway,” you try to sound nonchalant but your voice gives you away, sounding quiet, small and embarrassed. your whole face feels hot as you maneuver around him and out the door, basically running down the dimly lit hallway. 

as you stepped out of the double doors of your school’s recording studios, you gave yourself a moment, head dropping backward. staring into the starless sky, you take a deep, controlled breath. you let the air fill your lungs, let it slow your heart rate, panic gradually leaving you with every exhale. when you needed an escape, a moment to yourself, something to ground you when your mind felt too much to handle, you could always count on staring up at new york city’s perpetually void sky. 

you shouldn’t find comfort in decades of pollution masking the stars, something you missed so much from home, maybe the thing you missed most. but that could be the comfort in it, something so different, still feeling so new after living in the city for two years. change is what you craved, what you needed, it’s why you chose to go to NYU in the first place. coming from a small town in the midwest, you knew early that your dream of being a music producer couldn’t happen there. you’ve known that since you were fifteen, when you made the plan to move to the city of dreams in the first place. 

but yet in times like these, when you need a moment of staring up at the sky, you miss the stars staring back down at you. 

you shake your head and get to walking — the walk would be more like 25 rather than 20, but knowing wooyoung, he wouldn’t see your text for another 15 anyhow. you pulled your bag a bit tighter on your shoulders and kept the headphones off for your walk, giving your ears a much needed break. 

“there she is!” wooyoung’s voice is booming, louder than the heavy music the bar is playing, and yunho waves over to you from beside him. he hands you a beer as you sit with the two, hoping to take the edge off the last five hours, but all you can think of is the project you left unfinished. 

“…you’re working on your senior thesis already?” wooyoung’s eyebrows are raised, gaping at yunho, “the semester’s barely started!” 

“do you know how long it’ll take me to research?” yunho responds, bringing his bottle up to his lips, “i’m studying how the internet has changed the music industry, i need to start now.”

“you both are so dedicated,” wooyoung’s words spill out in a whine as his hands cover his face, “i still don’t even know if i really want to major in film.” 

“you have plenty of time to figure your shit out, woo,” you smile, patting his shoulder. you swear wooyoung has been the same carefree, partying college boy since he walked into his dorm on the first day. like yunho, he’s been dragging you out of your books and your projects to live a little since you met freshman year.

“what had you trapped all night?” yunho turns his attention to you. the bar stool is uncomfortable under you, making you shift your legs up to the higher bar, “another project?” 

you huff out a sigh, “for my EMP class.” 

“ah, EMP,” yunho nods and flips his phone face up, checking his notifications, “oh shit, joong and mingi are stopping by.”

you raise an eyebrow and wooyoung smiles, “damn, i haven’t seen them since that one night at jeongin’s!” 

“who are these people again?” you question, fingers mindlessly peeling at the label on your beer bottle, watching the tattoos littering your fingers stretch under the movement. 

“they’ve only been on the roof a few times i think, they know chan,” wooyoung nods like you should know this already. you typically did know almost everyone who came to your boyfriend’s infamous rooftop parties, but it makes sense for one or two people to slip past you every now and then. they usually end up being friends of your boyfriend’s three roommates, chan, felix, and seungmin.

“they’re both in the same major as you. i would’ve thought that you’ve had classes together, but they’re older than you, i guess,” yunho shrugs.

“you’re older than me,” you counter with a look to prove it, bringing your beer to your lips.

the three of you met in your freshman year, taking the same film scoring sound design class, where somehow your degrees overlapped. where you went to study music technology, wooyoung, a junior like you, studied film production, and yunho, a senior, studied music history. 

minutes later wooyoung is waving over two guys you’ve never seen before, a tall one and another shorter one. your eyes squint in focus before they nearly burst out of your head in shock. realization hits you and your body burns in embarrassment, your heart becoming alarmingly loud in your chest. 

they stop at the bar and you quickly explain your situation with the tall one to your friends. wooyoung’s head leans back as a fit of laughter consumes him and yunho’s signature smile that only appears at someone else’s expense comes into view.

“that’s right,” yunho nods in remembrance, “you both are always cooped up in that damn studio, you sure you’ve never met him before?” 

you quickly shake your head as you notice them approaching, pushing your discomfort to the back of your head, trying to seem like you haven’t noticed their arrival.

“god, this place never changes,” the smaller one is shaking his head as the two of them stand around the table, setting his drink down on the stained wood.

“that’s it’s charm,” yunho responds as he raises his hand, “how you been joong?” 

they all take turns dapping each other up as you sit quietly, observing, until the two pairs of eyes turn to you. the taller one introduces himself as mingi, the smaller one hongjoong. 

“hey, didn’t i just see you?” mingi’s eyebrows furrow as if his eyes were tricking him, “you go to NYU right?” his finger points to you, one of his eyebrows lifting in question. wooyoung and yunho immediately turn to you, amusement written all over their faces.

you could feel the heat from the tips of your ears as you nod, “ki, i’m a junior, music tech major.” 

“no way! we’re tech majors too,” he smiles, pulling his beer to his lips and turning back to yunho, “yun, how’s the thesis been?” 

the rest of the night was spent with you mainly being quiet, observing and listening to them converse. you’d only asked a few questions, added input when you felt necessary, and laughed when the situation called for it. your discomfort from earlier eased to some degree by the end of the night, but you felt like the majority of your time at prince was spent on auto-pilot.

mingi and hongjoong shared little about themselves, but you picked up on a few things throughout the night. they’re both seniors at NYU, studying music technology like you. they’ve also been interning for the same record label since the end of their junior year, both hoping to land a permanent position at the label before the end of their senior year. 

yunho and mingi have been friends since they were young, both attending the same high school and moving to new york city just after they graduated. hongjoong is born and raised in new york, you could tell as much from his accent, but met mingi his freshman year in one of their classes and they’ve been close since. 

where mingi was more quiet and reserved, hongjoong was talkative, easily dominating the conversation. he was loud about it, too. with eyeliner, a shaggy mullet and multiple ear piercings, hongjoong seemed anything but sweet off first glance. but the second he smiled paired with the sweet, melodious laugh that left his lips, you knew his appearance had nothing to do with his personality. something you should know by now in the creative department of NYU.

by the end of the night your social battery was below zero. your goodbyes to your new and old friends were quick, exhausted from your hours spent in the studio and the beers did nothing but tire you more. by the time you were back in your apartment, another 20 minute walk from prince, you’d hoped and prayed your roommate was sound asleep. you couldn’t bear another word out of your mouth.

in the shower you were playing the night back in your head like a movie, and you swore the weight of uneasiness didn’t fully leave you until you were settled in bed. trying to distract yourself by turning on the tv, your mind drifts once more, but instead of your project it was your new acquaintances, your seniors, two people you could learn so much from… it didn’t take long for your brain to empty itself and sleep to consume you.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“are you coming this friday?” your boyfriend asks, and you can hear the impatience in his voice, no doubt he’s feeling neglected after your busy week. 

“i don’t think so, i still have so much to do on this fucking song. it’s missing something still and i can’t figure it out,” you huff, running a hand through your hair. 

“that’s okay, i understand, what about tonight? you gonna be there late?” 

“i think so, i’m sorry, i’m so stressed i think i’m just gonna go home and crash.” 

“please, baby? every night this week you’ve been there and you’re always too tired to come over after,” he’s whining over the phone now, and your eye literally twitches as he speaks.

“jeongin, i need to get this done, i don’t know what else to tell you,” you snap as your fingers come up to the bridge of your nose, placing your elbow on the desk, “you have a key to my place, use it.” 

“is riley home? i don’t want to just show up unannounced, what if san’s there?”

you sigh, “we’ve been together for two years innie, and she’s known you longer than i have. i’m sure she’ll be happy to see you even if san is there. i’m almost done, i’ll be home soon, okay?” you lean back in the chair, eyes closing, bringing your free hand to rub at your mascara-less eyes. 

“okay! i’ll pick us up something to eat, what do you want?” your eyebrows furrow in frustration and you open your eyes to look down at the monitor again. all you can see is unfinished work, and your stress level goes through the roof. 

you take the phone off your ear and let a breath of frustration out before answering, “whatever you want. i’ll see you soon, love you,” you waited for him to say it back before you hung up the phone. you set it face down on the desk, bringing your headphones back over your ears, planning to finish up some last tweaks before you went back home for the night. 

the first day of your freshman year you walked into your cramped dorm room and were met with the human embodiment of new york. she was the perfect introduction to the city, the smallest yet loudest bundle of sunshine you’d ever encountered, a born and raised city girl. riley was a few inches over five feet, kind pale eyes and long dark waves framing her pretty face. lucky for you, she came with a built in friend group. 

jeongin, felix, chan, and seungmin, four guys who had moved to the city right after they graduated high school. the four of them had met riley randomly at a rock concert over the summer,  enamored by the fact that she’s a local and also majoring in theatre at NYU in the fall. they were quick to friendship, riley and the four boys, until you were introduced. 

from the first conversation you had with the four, your friendship fell right into place. it felt like you had known them your whole life. all four of them were funny, kind, accepting, and the best of all, gorgeous. the first time you saw jeongin you could attest that love at first sight is a real phenomenon. it didn’t take long after you guys had met for you to start dating, he was something out of your dreams. kind, respectful, funny, doting, he checked off every box on your 18 year old list. 

for being together nearly two years, at this point he is a true extension of you. you lived at his place half the time, you were always out in the city together, in the middle of washington square park on picnic dates, your relationship was movie-esque. everyone who knew you, knew jeongin, and vice versa. 

you didn’t hear anyone come in, and you sure as hell didn’t expect anyone to interrupt your focus as you felt a small tap on your shoulder. ripping your headphones off isn’t an understatement as you shriek, terror and surprise rushing through you like electricity. 

he can’t help but engulf himself in a fit of laughter while your eyebrows disappear into your hairline, your mouth agape as you clutch your thrashing heart over your hoodie. 

“mingi! jesus christ, are you gonna scare the shit out of me every time you’re here?” you bark out, breath heavy and unstable, irritation clear in your voice.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i knocked but you didn’t hear. didn’t know how else to interrupt,” he counters, still smiling, waving his hands in apology.

“did you not see the red light for in use outside the door?” you ignore the amused smile across his face, still clutching your heart as if it’d burst out of your chest if you didn’t. 

“i did, i took a peek to see if you’d be in here again,” he shrugs, “it’s late and you’re in the same room as the other day, i was curious.”

your expression softens, and you ignore the sweat that was quick to form in your palms. “oh,” you mutter, so quiet it was almost inaudible, “well here i am.” 

a small smile sits on his face as he moves closer, peering over your shoulder to look at the monitor, “what’s this?”

“a project for my EMP class, did you take it?” you shift your focus to your monitor again, joining him in overlooking your project.

he nods and turns to pull up another chair from beside the desk, “last year, what professor?” 

you curse your cheeks as they heat up on their own, “lee.” 

he makes a disappointed face, his lips thinning into a line, “that’s unfortunate.” he nods his chin to the monitor, “let me hear what you’ve got.” 

“it’s not even close to being finished,” you argue, the familiar heat at the tips of your ears joining your cheeks in competition of which can expose your embarrassment first. 

he shakes his head, “don’t care.” not even entertaining your argument, he reaches for the headphones that are placed around your neck. 

you clutch onto them quickly and he halts his movement, looking up at you, startled at your reflex. “damn, give me a second,” you say with a quick laugh, pulling the headphones from around your neck and handing them to him.

you press play and his head nods to the beat as he listens, his eyebrows furrowed again, this time in focus. you take a moment to really take in his appearance — full lips, short, black and blonde ruffled up hair, a perfectly straight nose… you pull your bottom lip between your teeth. 

he takes the headphones off as the song finishes, snapping you back to reality. “it still needs some tweaks but it’s good, you’re probably at a B minus right now.”

your jaw drops, “tweaks? a B minus?”

he laughs, “i thought you said it wasn’t even close to being done yet? here, let me help,” he places a headphone up to his ear opposite of the side you’re sitting on, pressing buttons on the keyboard. “i like the synths, very atmospheric, but you’re missing depth,” he sucks a breath in through his teeth, “a deeper bass line, it needs to be more intense.” 

he plays with your song for some time, listening and nodding his head to the beat. you stare at him in his element with damn near stars in your eyes— your eyebrows are raised, mouth hung slightly open, you’re nothing short of in awe at this essentially random man, your senior who interns at a record label, helping you with your project. 

he makes a finishing nod as he hands your headphones back to you, ushering you to listen. his small tweaks changed your song entirely, no shot you weren’t getting an A now.

“lee is big on emotion, layering and harmonies and all that,” he says as you pull the headphone off your ear. 

you start, “mingi, i-“

he leans back, arms folded behind his head with a cocky smile, “i know, i know, you can’t thank me enough, i’m really good at what i do, thank you very much,” he’s joking when he cuts you off, but it’s so true it’s nauseating. he did in 20 minutes what would’ve taken you 2 days, the raw talent exuding off of him only makes you more curious.

you can appreciate the love he has for his craft, the craft you share. he seems to love it enough that he can pick apart your creation and put it back together better than you did in the first place. it makes you want to pick his brain, find out why he’s here, why he loves music, what he grew up listening to. 

“i was actually going to say undo everything you just did because it sounds like dog shit,” you deadpan, wiping the cocky smile right off his face, making the corners of your mouth lift up in amusement.

“that hurt my feelings,” he pouts, crossing his arms over his chest instead.

you giggle, “can’t let you get too cocky.”

he chuckles, patting his thighs before he stands, “you still have to work on your use of effects, create more of a sense of urgency in the bridge. i’d say now you’re at an A minus though, couple more tweaks and you’re golden.” 

you nod, sitting up a bit straighter, “thank you, that was actually a huge help. i’ve been at this for almost a week now.” 

he heads toward the door and your brain is scrambling trying to figure out a way to get him to stay, or at least come back again soon. 

“you coming to chan’s this friday?” he beats you to it as he opens the door, peeking at you over his shoulder. 

you snap your head up at that, “uh, yeah, i’ll be there.”

the corners of his mouth turn up in a wide smile, “sweet, ill see you there then.” 

“thanks again!” heat rises to your cheeks as soon as the door shuts —  your palm slaps your forehead. at least jeongin will be happy that you’re coming friday. 

shit, jeongin! you already forgot about dinner. you quickly stood and yanked your hard drive out, quickly packing up your backpack to run to the subway station. you felt lighter right now than you had in a week, a newfound optimism taking over. 

you felt closer to finishing your project instead of being in the middle of it, you’re on more of a friendly basis with someone whom you share your craft, plus he’s more talented and experienced than you in it … it’s unknown territory for you since you didn’t have many friends in your major. 

your leg bounced the entire train ride home with a silly smile on your face, high off the adrenaline rush from the breakthrough. the train was surprisingly not packed, only a couple of people sharing the same car as you. it’s not usual for any subway car to be somewhat unoccupied, let alone peaceful in new york city. 

the adrenaline died down a fair amount in your walk from the station to your apartment, replaced with the comfort of your boyfriend and best friend waiting for you upstairs. 

the scent of oregano and fresh bread met you in the staircase, meaning pizza was waiting for you in the kitchen. as you made your way inside your apartment you found riley, san and jeongin standing around the counter in the midst of conversation. you set your backpack down on the table to signal your arrival and the three turn their attention to you. 

“you’re finally home! what’s got you cheesing so hard?” riley asks, handing you a plate as you turn the corner to grab a piece of pizza. 

jeongin kisses your cheek twice as you open the box, “feeling better about the song?” 

“yeah, i had a major breakthrough, actually,” that same silly smile is still plastered across your face as you pull a piece out onto your plate. 

riley’s eyes thin, shooting you a questioning look as she takes a bite of her slice. she’s always been able to see through you, read between the lines, hear what you weren’t saying, see the mask you wore when you were hiding your feelings like it was physically there.

“then the pizza is celebratory, i just so happened to get your favorite kind from your favorite place,” jeongin smiles, bumping his hip with yours as you take a huge bite of the thankfully still hot pizza. pepperoni has always been your favorite, but the first time you had any pizza in new york your life changed for the better. everything in new york is better than it is at home.

you thank him the best you can with your mouth full, then give him a close lipped smile, hiding the food in your mouth. 

“we were just talking about the roof on friday,” riley starts, leaning against san’s sturdy build that impressed you every time you saw it, “you feel like going?” 

you pause for a moment remembering your promise to mingi, “i actually can now that i’m pretty much done with the song.”

“yes!” jeongin’s fists shoot for the sky, wide smile on his face, “it’s supposed to be a big one, chan got the whole soccer club to come.”

“just the club? not the violets?” san perked up, eyebrows raised in question.

“the violets are probably all busy, soccer season and football season already started,” riley waves her hand, “the clubs aren’t that serious.” 

“i think they’d be offended if they heard you say their season isn’t serious, baby,” san’s gaze turned downward to riley, a sparkle in his eyes that was too bright for two people just sleeping with each other. you made a mental note to unpack that, just as you had to discuss the night you had. 

“maybe if they didn’t get hammered on a random rooftop mid-season i'd be more likely to consider them serious,” riley’s hands lifted to her shoulders, eyebrows lifted in an oh well expression. 

“touché,” san responded through a yawn, voice sounding breathy and relaxed. riley immediately yawned after him, a somnolent sound paired with stretching her arms. 

riley and san shared a mirrored look, seeming to read each other’s minds without verbally saying a thing. 

“we’re gonna head to bed, goodnight,” riley announces and turns for the hallway without a second glance, san bids you a small wave goodnight behind her. 

you and jeongin both call goodnight after them and he turns to you, moving a stray hair off of your face, “i’ve missed you.” 

“missed you too,” you sigh, “‘m sorry i snapped at you earlier,” you set your plate down and lean into his front, laying your head on his shoulder with your eyes closed. exhaustion hits you as soon as your eyelids shut, you could fall asleep on his shoulder if you needed to. his hands immediately find purchase on your hips, giving them a squeeze.

“don’t apologize baby, you’ve been so stressed and working so hard,” he kissed the side of your head, pulling up a hand to scratch at your scalp, “gonna be the best producer in all of new york.” you groan in appreciation. you should’ve had him here days ago. that’s always been his thing — the magic touch. 

where riley could see through you, practically hear your thoughts and feelings exactly for what they were, jeongin could feel them. with a hand in your hair or kiss to the cheek, he could feel what you were feeling. it was your favorite thing about him, his ability to know what you needed and help you through it without you having to ask. 

“you tired?” he asks, and you lift your head to look at him, then shook your head quickly. he smiles at your sleepy eyes, and like always, he knew what you wanted. he brought his hands to your hips again to twist your back against the counter, kissing you softly at first. he slipped his tongue into your mouth, exploring until you brought your hands to his hair and tugged, silently begging for more. he swiftly slid the pizza box across the counter and picked you up by the backs of your thighs, placing you on the countertop without breaking the kiss. 

“mm, maybe i am tired, we should head to bed,” you say between kisses, arms placed around his neck. 

he groans into his words, “yeah, lots of sleeping, we should do that,” you’re both smiling into the kiss, and you squeal as his hands scoop under your ass, picking you up to bring you to your room. sleep could come later, right now you just wanted him.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

friday comes faster than you thought it would. your classes breezed by, your song finally finished and turned in, and you were impatiently waiting for tonight. normally you aren’t as excited for the rooftop parties your boyfriend and his roommates threw, they were a dime a dozen, but the anticipation for tonight has been at the front of your mind all week. 

“you dressed up? i thought we were dressing cozy like we always do!” riley stands at your doorway, hands at her sides with her eyebrows furrowed. she had on ripped jeans, an oversized hoodie, and a pair of white sneakers. her hair was tied up in a bun, glasses sitting on her nose. 

you looked down at your bodysuit, jeans and sandals, and then looked back up to her, “this is somewhat cozy!”

“i’m putting on a different shirt and doing my hair,” she states and leaves your room in a hurry, and you look in the mirror at your side. you did your hair and makeup, something you only do once in a while for jeongin’s parties. you’d usually be in a different version of riley’s exact outfit. 

“i guess i did dress up,” you mumble to yourself and shrug, your small smile returning on your lips. you were in a good mood, actually having enough energy to put effort into getting ready, so your appearance reflected that. 

you made your way to the kitchen to pour a couple shots for you and your roommate, getting the pregame started. music blasted throughout your apartment, thanks to the surround sound stereo system you installed with the help of riley and jeongin. 

more so you got frustrated trying to install them yourself and made jeongin do most of it while riley watched anxiously.

you took the first shot back quick, needing to start easing your nerves before heading out for the night. jeongin’s parties were famously never small, with the help of his three roommates they were friends with half of NYU’s campus. from the arts department to the finance bros, they knew everyone, and everyone knew them. even the wealthiest students that attended NYU knew at least one out of the four. living in a huge apartment in soho, thanks to seungmin’s father paying half their rent each month, they had the luxury of their own private rooftop.

some of your best memories of the past two years have been on that rooftop… huge parties, small get-togethers, nights between you and jeongin only. you would prefer that to a random frat party any day. even in the winter time, with tents and heaters, you’d still be on that rooftop until all hours of the night. but as you’ve grown older, classes have become harder, your workload more intense, nights on that rooftop have become less of a common occurrence. you think that’s why your stomach is bubbling up with tension, you don’t have the comfort of knowing you were there just the other day. it’s been long enough to where you feel like just someone showing up rather than the host’s girlfriend of two years walking around the rooftop like she owns it.

“okay, i’m ready now — oh no, you poured shots?” riley pouts, setting her hands down on the counter.  now she wore a black bodysuit, her dark hair in soft curls around her face. you know by now that her resolve is weak despite her complaints, so you slide the two shot glasses toward her. 

“to riley getting laid tonight!” you yell as you lift up your shot glass, and she lets out a quick laugh before clicking her glass with yours and shooting it back. 

“why tonight? i’ve been fucking san for months,” she says, her face scrunching up in disgust from the taste of the vodka. 

“by chan, ri,” you announce in a tone that this information was obvious, smiling like a maniac at your roommate. this makes her eyes roll, heat rising to her cheeks. “come on, it’s been years of mutual pining between the two of you, i don’t understand why it’s not happening when it’s clearly meant to!” 

“please,” she waves a hand and picks up her phone, “he literally has a girlfriend, ki. we keep having the same conversation, it’ll happen when it’s meant to.” 

you tap your second shot glass on the table to alert her to take her second shot as well. she grabs onto the top of the glass and pauses for a second, “maybe i really should stop sleeping with san.” 

“to riley discontinuing her meaningless sex relationship and pursuing true love!” you raise your shot glass again and she clinks hers with yours, an emotion you can’t read in her eyes before she takes it back. 

“meaningless sex is crazy,” she lets out a breath of air after the shot, “you know it’s more than that, we just talked about this.” 

you grab your phone off the charger and slip it into your purse, “i also know you’re in love with chan, we just talked about that, too. no more meaningless sex, but instead sex with love behind it.”

she’s smiling as she lifts up her phone again, “and what about you, huh? you’re about to see your new boyfriend at your actual boyfriend’s party.” 

your eyes snap up, jaw immediately dropping with a gasp. you filled her in on what happened in the studio the other night, she hasn't let you rest for a minute because of it. “don’t even joke like that, it’s not like that and you know it.” 

“just like it’s not just meaningless sex with san and i,” she sings, “i’m kidding, but i can’t help but connect the dots and i do feel like maybe you’re a little excited to see him again,” she puts her fingers up in a pinch, squinting an eye. 

you respond with your lips pursed, your eyes lowered to slits. 

“in a completely platonic and innocent way!” her hands go up in defense instead. 

“am i excited for the chance to talk to someone older than me with more experience in my major, who’s really talented and can hopefully give me tips to get me further in my career? yes, of course i am,” you run a hand through your hair with a huff of air, “it just so happens that he’s a man.” 

“who’s six feet tall and probably sexy.”

“riley!”

“i’m sorry! let’s go, uber’s here.”

the rooftop is just how you left it. a mass of bodies standing, talking, drinking, maybe even dancing to the song playing through the speakers. fairy lights still hang over the roof, intertwined in a way that looks intentional, but you still aren’t sure if it is. the bar is in the same place, they got a dj, nothing has changed at all and it helps to put you at ease. along with the vodka you drank before you left. 

“no way! riley and kiki!?” you hear him before you see him, a slightly taller sunshine maneuvering his way towards you and your smaller sunshine. 

“lixie!” riley exclaims, throwing her arms around his neck in a hug as he approaches you, “i’ve missed you! how’s the foot?”

“honestly better now, just waiting on clearance from the doctor before i can start performing again,” he smiles as he sticks his leg out, lifting his pant leg and twisting his ankle around to show you it’s mobility. the smile on his face is infectious, it immediately makes you smile, too. 

“there she is,” you feel hands around your waist and a pair of plump lips pressed to your cheek, “you look so fucking beautiful and i haven’t even seen your face yet.” 

you turn around and press your lips to jeongin’s, smiling into it, “i felt like dressing up.” 

“and i feel like taking it off of you,” he whispers into your ear, making a hand go over your mouth as you choke out a giggle. his messy curls lay wispy across his forehead, the familiar copper flips peeking out from the nape of his neck. he was in a big t-shirt, baggy jeans and sneakers, your favorite look on him after just plain sweats. 

“at least get me a drink first,” you licked your lips, tasting the cheap beer from when you kissed him. it was usually like this between you two, flirting like you had just started dating yesterday, the off days where you were stressed and short tempered were few and far between. 

“you’re coming with me, i want you to meet some people,” he grabs your hand and starts for the crowd of people. you give riley and felix a wave behind you, jeongin not giving you any time for small talk as he starts pulling you towards the bar.

you passed faces you recognized, giving small waves and ‘hey!’s as you followed behind him. you’ll get to socializing with everyone you know later. 

at the back end of the rooftop was a stand up bar, one seungmin’s dad gifted to them without a doubt. everyone had the option to bring their own alcohol, which a lot of people did, but seungmin loved the classy feeling of having an almost full bar at his parties. it was mainly his name that was passed around for the legendary parties, so he had to live up to expectations. 

“hey jinnie,” you smile as you approach the bar, completely ignoring the line that was formed in front of it. still hand in hand with jeongin, no one batted an eye. it’s one thing to have a bar at a college party, but to have a bartender comfortable serving alcohol without showing ID? impossible to find. hyunjin, on the other hand, has never minded for a moment — he actually offered. with compensation, of course. 

“hey keeks! haven’t seen you in a hot minute, how’ve you been?” his smile is wide when he notices you, still shaking the drink he was currently making. 

“busy as hell, what about you? how’s the portfolio?” you unlace your hand with jeongin’s and lean on the side of the bar, trying not to let his actions sway your easily distracted mind. 

“i’ve been really good! super busy too, still working on it,” he hands the finished drink to the girl standing at the bar, and she hands him a 20 while batting her eyelashes. he winks back and then turns to you, “you want a beer or a cocktail?” 

“cocktail please, something tequila. i’m in the mood to chat,” you smile and it makes him laugh, already pulling the casamigos from the rack. 

“whatever you say, princess,” this has always been the relationship between you and hyunjin since before you and jeongin had started dating. the shameless flirting, the easy conversation, the nicknames, you’ve thanked god jeongin isn’t the jealous type plenty of times. your drink is handed to you in moments, jeongin passing his friend a bill you couldn’t see. you thanked hyunjin for the drink and jeongin for tipping him, and your boyfriend pulled you by the wrist once more.

“where are we going?” you ask, keeping your drink level as you make your way through the crowd. you try to manage a sip, your face scrunching up from the sour taste. tequila and sour mix was an odd one of your favorites, but the first sip is always the worst before it gets better. 

“i just met a couple of chan’s friends, i was talking with them right before you got here, they’re cool. they’re in the same major as you,” he yells over the loud music now that you’re back in the crowd, and you nod despite him not being able to see you.

you make your way over to the smoking corner, one of the cozier areas that you friend group seemed to naturally go towards every time you were here. the music was still loud but it seemed somewhat quieter in the corner, maybe because it was next to the edge of the rooftop and there was nothing but the city around and beneath, you could hear traffic and the business of new york, making it seem less deafening. there were couches, cushioned chairs, tiki torches, it made the space the most inviting spot on the rooftop.

“hey keeks!” chan stood up to hug you, wrapping his huge arms around your back, “feels like i haven’t seen you in ages, you haven’t been by the loft. what’s up?” 

“i know, i’ve been busy as shit,” you chuckle as he lets go, sitting back down, “how about you?”

“the same, really. but hey, nothing new is nothing bad, right?” his hands go up, his eyebrows raised in amusement. you glance down to the couch, han was sitting with one leg over minho’s, fully relaxed into the cushions. you gave them a smile in greeting, they were close friends of the four roommates, close friends of yours. you give chan a nod and the rest a wave before jeongin grabs your hand again. 

“ki, this is who i wanted you to meet!” you turned away from chan, and before your boyfriend were two people you had definitely met before, “mingi and hongjoong.”

“oh shit, hey guys,” your cheeks immediately heat up as you give them a small wave, mouth twisting to a tight lipped smile. 

“i thought your name sounded familiar!” hongjoong’s finger points, his eyebrows perked up in surprise. his mullet was messy, his piercings shining under the moonlight. he had on an oversized distressed sweater, a long pair of denim shorts, paired with some old boots. does he just permanently look like a rockstar?

“sick, you know each other already?” jeongin asks, a bright smile on his face. 

“yeah, we met last week at prince when i was out with wooyo and yunho,” you nod, playing with the straw in your drink. 

“how’d the song come out, ki? you add in what i told you to?” mingi asks, and you gave him a one over. he wore a tight black tee paired with white and black jeans, a black baseball cap and plenty of jewelry. 

you nod, “got an A plus, thank you very much!” you sip your drink, pretending you didn’t feel the sweat forming in your palms, telling yourself it’s just the condensation from your glass. 

jeongin looks at you with an eyebrow raised, clearly missing a key point from the conversation, “the night i had the breakthrough, mingi listened to my song and told me what i needed to fix. he’s why i finished it so quickly.” 

“ah,” is all he said with a slow nod, and you couldn’t fight the uncomfortable feeling creeping up your spine. 

“even if i didn’t, you still would’ve gotten a good grade, you didn’t need my help,” he shakes his hand at you, “i’ve actually been talking to joong about it, next time you’re in the studio you have to let us come by and listen to it.” 

“seriously? i mean- yeah, but why?” your eyebrows furrow and you shift your weight to one leg. 

“it’s been stuck in my head, i was thinking it’d be even better with vocals over it,” he shrugs, taking a swig of his beer. 

“i catch him humming to it all the time. during class, at work, at the bar,” hongjoong laughs before he sniffs, running the back of his hand over his nostrils, “i feel like i need to hear it so i can get it out of my head.” 

you laugh along with him, “you can definitely come by, i’ll probably be in there tomorrow working on my own stuff. same studio,” you tip your chin up at mingi and he nods back in understanding. 

jeongin’s hand makes its way to your waist, “i’m gonna go find felix and ri, i’ll be back.” you nod and give him a quick kiss, and he goes right back into the crowd. 

“i didn’t know you and jeongin were together,” mingi starts, his eyes that were following jeongin disappear into the crowd come back to meet yours.

“almost two years now,” you say with a smile, then take another sip of your drink. the words feel sour coming out of your mouth, like you didn’t want to tell him that. 

“two yea- aren’t you a junior?” hongjoong interrupted, pointing your way again, looking nothing short of flabbergasted.

“we met our freshman year, been together since,” you confirmed with an uncomfortable chuckle, taking another sip of your drink. you hated that you selfishly wanted to change the subject. 

“cute,” mingi mutters before his beer touches his lips again, eyes boring holes into yours. 

“ki!” you hear over your shoulder, making you whip around to yunho approaching you from behind, his girlfriend close behind him. you’d never been more grateful for anything in your life. 

“hey guys,” you smile and hug them both quickly, giving yunho a moment to greet everyone in the corner before he takes the spot next to you. 

“what’d i miss? i just saw felix and riley back there,” his hands are in his pockets, a soft close-mouthed smile sitting on his face.

“nothing at all, we were waiting for you to get the party started,” you scrunch your nose at your own joke and yunho replies with a belly laugh, shaking his head.

“yun, can we get drinks?” ivy asked, tugging on yunho’s sleeve. blonde and blue eyed, small girl, she was always dressed so pretty. always in a dress or a skirt, you don’t know if you’ve ever seen her in a pair of pants, not even when you all went out for a night of bowling in brooklyn.

they’d been together for longer than yourself and jeongin, the four of you often went out on double dates when you first became friends with yunho. their relationships mirrored your own, a match made in heaven, two people born to be with each other.

“you guys are empty too?,” mingi asks, asking the three of you but keeping his gaze focused on your empty glass, gaining your attention. “let’s go get another.” 

he starts for the crowd with you following close behind until it starts to get dense, people naturally clinging closer to one another the closer they got to the dj. changbin always insists he runs the music at these parties, there’s nothing he loves more than riling up a crowd with the remixes he and han make. he also couldn’t complain about the girls that hang around the booth. mingi turns his head around and notices you lagging behind, offering a hand so you don't get lost in the crowd. 

you took it, and the first thing you noticed was how small your hand is in comparison to his. it fit so nicely in his palm, fingers wrapped around the top of his hand. you blame the tequila for the heat that spread into your chest. 

as you neared the line for the bar you chose to not use your friendship with hyunjin to get you up to the front, opting to take your time at the back of the line instead. you noticed yunho and ivy didn’t make it to the line behind you and you couldn’t help but be happy about it.

“so,” he starts and a pause follows, making you both giggle, “i assume you’re at all of these parties, right?” 

his question makes you tilt your head, “i’m 95% sure that question was a slightly different version of ‘you come here often?’”

he turns around in embarrassment, a hand covering his mouth, pretending he didn’t know who you were. he turns back around, a silly smile sitting on those pretty lips of his and you swear there’s a pink hue to his cheeks, “it might’ve been.” 

“then to that, i’ll say i used to come a lot more, but with school getting so crazy i haven’t been as much,” you shrug and he nods, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. 

you make small talk as the line moves closer and you swear there’s tension between the two of you. it could be the buzz you’re nursing because the small talk flows, but it feels like there’s something that both of you want to say and neither of you are saying it. 

“you’re cheating on me with someone else now too?” hyunjin pouts as you finally approach the bar.

“i’m sorry baby, i didn’t mean to break it to you like this,” you reach for his hand over the bar and he pulls it away, looking at you with disappointment. 

“is it because he’s taller than me? i swear 2 or 3 inches isn’t that much,” he says with a fake sadness, already pulling the casamigos from the rack. 

“jinnie baby, 2 or 3 inches is a lot where it counts,” you put your hand over your heart, “i hope you can forgive me.” 

“i’ll think about it, princess,” he puts your drink on the bar, looking up to mingi who is confused yet amused, “miller right?” 

mingi nods and hyunjin cracks a can, mingi slipping him a bill during the transaction. they both do that guy nod at each other in thanks and hyunjin looks at you with fake sadness again, making you giggle. 

“what the hell?” is all mingi says as you walk back towards the crowd, both walking a lot slower. 

“that’s hyunjin, one of my friends. we always play like that,” you shrug, “what, you thought he was serious?” 

“at first, well for a second there yeah,” he admits, making you laugh, “i don’t know what to expect with you. here i thought i met a really pretty girl who shares the same interests as me, has the same humor as me, then i find out she’s been in a two year long relationship. i guess i don’t really know that much about you.” 

you stop in your tracks and look up to him in surprise, eyes wide and lips parted. you blink a couple times, scrambling to find something to say.

“you think i’m pretty?” you ask, a serious look on your face before your lips twitch upward. he nudges your shoulder with a shut up making you giggle. 

“what do you want to know?” you ask, and you’re both standing still, nursing your drinks. 

“i want to know a lot of things, but unfortunately i think our time is up,” his eyes look past you and you turn around, jeongin approaching.

“hey guys,” he kisses your cheek and tilts his head up to nod at mingi, “i caught riley and chan flirting!” 

you gasp, “no shot, san is here.” 

he nods again, success written all over his face, “i think san was in our corner while they were talking.” 

you dapped up your boyfriend, “i consider that a step forward, i’ll stay here if she takes him home tonight.” 

“you’re staying here anyway,” he looks at you like you should know that already then leans closer to your ear, “i didn’t forget about what i said earlier.” 

you shush him, your cheeks burning, from what he said or the fact that he said it with the other man standing behind you, you weren’t sure.  

“i’m gonna head back over to where we were,” mingi says from behind you, and you turn around to give him a smile and a nod. jeongin gives him a cheesy thumbs up and you can’t help but want to pull his hand back down to his side, second-hand embarrassment forcing heat to rise to your cheeks again. you’d usually find that funny, maybe even a bit endearing.

“we should go too,” you murmur, this time you grabbed his wrist to follow mingi through the crowd. 

when you get back, all the seats are taken except for the spots san and minho left open, they had gone to get more drinks just as you got there. mingi and hongjoong still choose to stand, deep in conversation with yunho. you and jeongin sit apart, opposite sides of the area, and you try your hardest to listen to the conversation everyone was already in the midst of. you kept replaying the past half hour in your head while everyone around you was engulfed in discussion, burning the conversation with mingi into your memory so your buzzed brain didn’t forget it. as curious as you were about him he seemed to be the same towards you, which only made you more restless about getting to know him better. you caught yourself staring at him a few times throughout the night until he inevitably caught you, shooting a sly smirk your way. 

your eyes shoot to jeongin who was already looking at you, he’d noticed you’ve been lost in your thoughts for awhile now. he stood abruptly, straightening out his shirt.

“i’m tired,” he says nonchalantly, still looking to you. you couldn’t read him, did he catch that? the looks? is he actually tired? everyone looks up at him, surprised at his sudden revelation, “i’m gonna head to bed.”

“it’s only midnight, innie,” chan looks up from his lock screen, no doubt checking the time, “why so early?”

he shrugs, “i’m tired.” 

he waves goodnight to everyone and you sit stuck in your chair, unsure of where his head is at. do you follow him? do you stay here with everyone and enjoy the rest of the party? you hadn’t even said hi to the soccer club yet. 

as he starts to walk away, he doesn’t look back at you nor does he kiss you goodnight, and you have your answer. you stood up, swinging your purse over your shoulder and chug the rest of your drink. you needed the rest of the watered down tequila to ease your nerves, especially with not knowing where his head is. he may not be the jealous type, but he’s not stupid, either. 

“you’re going in, too?” riley asks, eyebrows furrowed with a pout on her lips.

“following my boyfriend into an empty house? absolutely,” you say jokingly, trying to play it off as something you two had planned. 

but as she always does, she lifts a brow, sensing your uneasiness despite your words. her eyes quickly darted to mingi and back to you so fast it was almost unnoticeable, and your lips tightened. she nods. 

“we on for wednesday?” yunho asks as you turn away, giving you a quick hug goodbye. 

“depends on my assignments for the week,” you say, scratching the back of your neck. 

“wooyoung will be pissed if you don’t,” he sings teasingly and you roll your eyes, turning your attention to mingi and hongjoong.

“good to see you guys again,” you smile, waving to them both. 

“we’ll see you tomorrow?” hongjoong asks, eyebrows raised. 

“i think so,” you nod, purposefully not confirming, then turn on your heel to walk through the crowd once more. 

you greet about twenty more people along the way, getting stuck in a few conversations before you finally stand before the door to the staircase. you take in a deep breath, not knowing what’s waiting for you on the other side. 

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

you nodded your head along to the beat, fingers tapping against the desk, mimicking every sound in the current project you had displayed across the monitor. you paused it, tweaking a harmony’s pitch, then pressed play again. 

you sighed as you sat back, taking off your headphones in the middle of the song, and stared up at the ceiling of the studio. you hadn’t seen him since friday, and he’s been occupying half of your mind since. it’s so wrong, you shouldn’t wish he’d walk through the door behind you, but you do. 

you couldn’t stop thinking about his necklaces, his rings, the hat he wore and the short waves peeking out of it, his nose, his lips… the list can go on and on. it’s so fucking wrong. your boyfriend was at his apartment, waiting for you to be done so you could join him. you spent the remainder of the weekend with him, half because you wanted to and half because you needed to. you needed mingi out of your head, and the only way to do that was to fill it with jeongin. 

you stare back at the screen, and your eyes squint. you can’t help but wonder what he’d think of the song, what input he’d have to improve it. you rubbed your eyes and groaned.

a knock at the door has your eyes wide and a gasp leaving your throat, your neck snapping behind you to catch who’s entering your studio space. the man of the hour waltzes inside so casually, as if he didn’t owe you rent for living in your mind the past 96 hours. 

“look who it is,” your smile is wide, bright eyes looking up at him as he makes his way in. 

“at least i didn’t scare you this time,” he’s already smiling too, excitement leaking out of both of you, “i finally caught you, you didn’t show on saturday.”

you take your headphones off, placing them on the desk, “my bad, i didn’t feel good all weekend. this is the first time i’ve been here in a few days,” a lie.

“all better now i hope?” he stands with the back of his legs against the desk, staring down at you, so aloof you can't read him. 

“for the most part,” you lean back in your chair, playing with your own rings, “i was hoping i’d see you, actually. i’m working on something else that i want your opinion on.” 

“hoping you’d see me? that doesn’t sound good,” that smirk you couldn’t stop thinking about finds its way to his face again, “don’t get yourself in trouble now.” 

you roll your eyes, “did your ears stop working or are you so narcissistic that that’s all you heard?” 

he chuckles to himself, pulling the chair that he sat in last time back over to the desk, “go for it.” 

you unplug your headphones this time, letting the song play out loud. you both nod your head, and you couldn’t help feeling vulnerable as your own personal project plays through the small studio. he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, and you couldn’t read his expression. it seemed like focus, but you couldn’t pinpoint any pleasure or dislike. 

he pauses the song, looking dead at you, and you feel two feet tall in the leather chair, “have you applied anywhere for an internship?” 

you blink twice, not expecting the sudden question, “i was planning to look into it later this year.” 

“you need to start looking, you’re good at this shit,” he takes a breath, pressing play to finish the song. your whole body is hot, there’s no way you could pay attention to the rest of the song now. despite the discomfort from the sudden compliment, a surge of confidence rushes through you, twisting the vulnerability into a feeling of pride. 

you realized you haven't even heard anything he’s produced yet, and wonder why his opinion means so much to you. is it just because he’s older? more experienced? because he’s already working with a record label?

“i really fucking like this, ki. we need to get joong in here,” his voice rips you out of your thoughts, realizing he’s already looking at you, “do you mind if i text him to stop by?” 

you quickly shook your head, “not at all, no, tell him to come by,” you tuck your hair behind your ears, “thank you, but there’s nothing you want to add? no constructive criticism?” 

“well it’s not like this is for a class, right?” he asks and you quickly shake your head again, “the art you create is a reflection of you, it represents who you are. your talent, your passion, your personality. i can’t give criticism on something so personal.” 

you both blink at each other before he cracks a small smile, “that was corny, wasn’t it?” 

“no! it wasn’t corny at all, i just wasn’t expecting something so… poetic?” you untuck your hair, nervously fidgeting now, “i guess there’s a lot i don’t know about you either.” 

“well what do you want to know?” he asks, mimicking your words from the last time you two spoke. 

“everything,” you took a breath, “i want to know everything.” 

the next few hours were spent with the two of you talking about every thought that popped into both of your brains. each story you told reminded him of a similar one he had, which reminded you of a similar story you had, and the cycle went on and on.

he told you about his childhood, moving to another country with yunho in tow and nothing else to his name. yunho’s version you’ve already heard, but hearing the second telling of the story left a different impact. mingi talked about yunho with stars in his eyes, he spoke of him so highly, yunho is someone he held close to his heart. 

he talked about coming to new york, his dream of becoming a successful music producer, the dream you both shared. you reveled in your shared dream for a bit, how you wanted to succeed, what genres you preferred, tips and tricks of the trade. he showed you a couple songs on his phone, and you were right to hold your opinion of him so high, his style is unlike anything you’ve ever heard. 

he grew up listening to a plethora of genres, his favorite being rock, he went to as many concerts as he could for as many different genres as he could, and spent plenty of nights by himself writing music. he’s a rapper as well as a producer, most of his music has his vocals and rap lines over it, all written by himself. his knowledge and experience shows through his music, his art, it’s motivating more than anything. it gives you a clearer goal, an objective for your own future. 

“what the fuck is fix on?”

“my tag, like an ad-lib.” 

“like karate kid? wax on, wax off.” 

that made him laugh, and laugh loud, “it’s for like, determination, i guess. like to be fixed on a goal or a target.” 

“i like it, mister miyagi.”

mingi and hongjoong got close when they met their freshman year, and became inseparable. they share the same values, have the same dream, and are both extremely talented individuals. when put together, they’re truly special. he showed you one or two tracks hongjoong had a hand in and it blew you away. their style was so unique, a mixture of genres that bled into one sound, but it worked. it worked so fucking well. you knew in your heart they were going to run the industry one day, and you’d be their number one competitor.

you got into your childhood, you shared the feeling of moving somewhere new with nothing to your name. his was a lot greater, you’d just hopped a couple states over. but the two of you could relate to one another, on a deeper level than either of you thought you would. there are too many things that the two of you shared… it scared you and excited you. 

somewhere in those hours you moved from the leather chairs to the couch, you sat facing him with your knees bent up right beside his torso. your shoes had come off, his hoodie that smelled so deliciously like him had swallowed you over your jumpsuit. his arm stretched across the couch behind you, touching your shoulder every now and then, reminding you of that uncomfortable feeling which kept itself seated at the pit of your stomach. 

“we have more in common than i initially thought, i think,” you leaned your head to the side, facing him still, the top of your head hitting the back of the couch. 

“i had a feeling we would get along. you’re too bright eyed to be a local, too talented to be boring,” he answered, his arm stretched behind your head bent up to pat your head. 

“did hongjoong ever answer you?” you asked, realizing he never showed up. you played with the sleeves of his hoodie mindlessly, looking up at him.

“can i be honest?” a rhetorical question, his eyes looking down at your sleeves, “i never texted him.” 

both of you giggled like little kids, his chest rising and lowering with each laugh. this comfort, this ease you both clearly feel, you didn’t want it to stop. it was so easy to talk to him, your conversation had a constant flow from the time he walked into the room. 

you let out a tsk, “you’re gatekeeping me, song mingi, and that’s no fun.” 

“if anyone‘s gatekeeping you, it’s jeongin,” his snap is quick, like he was waiting to bring up jeongin. your jaw drops before a laugh erupts from your throat. 

you sit up and smack his shoulder playfully, “you’re fucked up!” 

he shrugs, “it’s true.” he isn’t laughing, there’s no smile on his face. he’s dead serious. you should get up, you should leave, you should at least tell him not to say things like that. but you don’t.

your laughter dies and you’re both staring at each other, a stillness overtaking the room. it’s deafening, the close proximity in which you’re sitting now feels incriminating. your sock covered foot touching his thigh feels like it’s on fire. 

“mingi,” your voice is so low it’s almost a whisper, that pit feeling in your stomach you pushed down only growing.

“tell me there’s nothing between us, that there isn’t this thing that would’ve started last week if you didn’t have him,” his face is blank, you couldn’t read him. every feature is perfectly in place as he looks at you, no dishonesty in his eyes — just veracity. 

“why?” is all you ask, voice small. you didn’t dare move an inch, you didn’t break contact, fear breaking out across your skin. fear for what, you couldn’t place. 

“i want to kiss you, i know i shouldn’t, but i’m starting to not give a fuck anymore. i need you to tell me no,” his voice is also low, raspy but still laced with confidence. he sits forward a bit, head turning to face you more. your eyes drift from his own to his lips, those lips you’d been seeing in your dreams. bottom lip red from how often he pulls it between his teeth, both wet from how many times he’s licked them to soothe them over. they were inviting, you wondered what they tasted like, what they’d feel like pressed against your own. 

“ki, if you don’t answer i’m going to assume it’s a yes. say no,” he repeats, whispering the last part, and you look back up to his eyes. every ounce of your body that was feeling fear a moment ago is replaced with need, a demand so great that it’s pulsing through you, a desperation you haven’t felt in a long time. there was no other thought in your brain other than what he felt like. you needed to know, fuck the consequences. 

with a speed you’ve only experienced with one other person, his lips are pressed to yours. you couldn’t think, you couldn’t process, you couldn’t think of anything other than him and how much you wanted him.

his lips tasted so entirely like him, wet and messy and sweet. his hands confidently wrapped around your head like they were made for this purpose, his lips fitting so perfectly between your own you can’t imagine anyone else’s being there again. it was fascinating, one kiss changing everything you knew about yourself. 

you had one boyfriend back at home. you started dating when you were seventeen, a junior in high school, he was your first everything. you were so wrapped around his finger you thought you’d be married by twenty. you could see it: the two of you living in new york city together, in a big penthouse, a fat diamond on your finger. he was lanky, a tall boy with pretty white teeth and shaggy brown hair, he was everything you thought you wanted in a partner. he was funny, quiet but he knew when to use his voice, he was insistent on what was best for you and your future. 

then the time came for you to graduate, and around that time you were a fucking mess. as much as you needed to leave home to go to a big city with big opportunities, of course, leaving everyone you’ve ever known destroyed you. the day you graduated high school you broke it off with him. you told him it was because you were leaving and there was no way a long distance relationship would work, but you knew if you truly loved him you would've made it work. you knew when you came to the city of dreams you’d meet someone who swept you off your feet. 

as mingi scooped you off your spot on the couch and onto his lap, you knew you were right. you’ve always been loyal to jeongin, you’d barely ever looked in anyone else’s direction. you were fully convinced jeongin was the one you’d be in that penthouse with, and he’d be the one to get on one knee and put that diamond around your finger. 

jeongin has never once treated you this way, and god does it feel good. you’d never once felt this level of greed, this level of desperation. like you’re the last sip of water in a desert and mingi hasn’t had a drop in days. your thighs wrapped around mingi’s hips and his hands found your waist, tongues in a battle to see who wanted the other more. you were both out of breath, the kiss never once breaking, and your brain was on a carousel. all you could think was how good this feels, how good he feels and that you wanted more on repeat. until the one person’s face who should not be in your head right now popped in to remind you what the fuck you were doing. 

you broke away, wide eyed, with a hushed fuck.

a muttered fuck fuck fuck left your lips as you got off his lap, quickly backing up two steps away from him.

“i’m sorry,” he blurts out, pulling his shirt over what you were just happily grinding yourself against, “ki, i’m so sorry.”

“shut up,” you snap, with your hands out in front of you, eyes shut, “let me think.”

this is okay, you can get away with this. no one needs to know what just happened. it was once, you needed to get it out of your system. you’ll never do it again. it’s okay. no one can know, though. not a single person in the world can find out what just happened, you and mingi both need to take it to the grave. as long as no one finds out, you’ll be safe. you and jeongin will be happy. it’ll work out. this is okay. it’s okay.

“you tell no one,” you say shakily, your voice low, “not yunho, not hongjoong, not any of your other friends. no one.”

he hurriedly nods, “i won’t tell a soul, please don’t freak out. i’m sorry ki.”

you gathered your backpack, throwing your headphones and all the other shit you had sprawled across the desk into it. you threw it over your shoulders, heading for the door.

“ki?” he calls from the couch, and you pause, turning your head to look at him.

“my hoodie.”

[moremaybank]

'TIL DEATH DO US PART — r.c

pairing rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary the night before your wedding, rafe reminds you that you'll always belong to him

warnings 18+, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, cheating, breeding kink (ish), creampie, language

author's note heyyy new layouttt. also i accidentally deleted the request for this bc i'm an actual idiot. don't hate me pls

rafe masterlist

Your rehearsal dinner looks like something out of a movie. A soft, warm light is cast around the room, reflecting off the chandelier hanging from the centre of the ceiling beautifully. The hall is jam-packed with almost every kook on the island, who are all dressed to the nines and engaging in small talk. 

You spot your fiancé Jackson across the way, catching up with some of his old friends from college. He throws his head back in laughter, assumably in response to a joke, and you smile at how happy he looks. 

A year ago, you never would’ve imagined that you’d find yourself engaged to Jackson. Truthfully, you only ever saw yourself marrying a certain Cameron boy. But things change. You still aren't sure for better or worse, but they have nonetheless. 

Deciding that you need another drink after thinking about he who shall not be named, you navigate through the crowd in pursuit of the bar. 

“A shot of tequila, please.” 

The bartender nods, grabbing a shot glass off one of the shelves and topping it up. You bid him a thank you and quickly down the contents of the small glass. You shut your eyes at the slight burn, feeling the warmth make its way down your system. You let it wash away the memories of him. Even after all this time, you can still feel his hands on you and his soul intertwined with yours, as if he left an imprint on you forever. 

He branded you, and you’ll never forget it, not even when you’re married to Jackson. 

You know it’s horrible. It’s awful. Jackson is an incredible guy. He’s everything Rafe isn’t, everything Rafe could never be, and you can see yourself being happy with him for the rest of your life. But even so, deep down, you still yearn for the imperfection and flawed love that came with being Rafe’s. 

You request another shot, knocking it back faster than your brain can process. The guilt is eating you alive, and you’re desperate to kill it. You shouldn’t be thinking about him. Not here, not now, and certainly not with your poor, unknowing fiancé across the room.

“Rough night?”

A chill runs down your spine, and goosebumps prick at your skin. It’s as if your senses have just come alive at the mere sound of his voice. 

You prepare yourself, shutting your eyes and taking a deep breath before turning around to face him.

There he is, standing in all his devilishly handsome glory. His eyes are as icy and blue as ever, his sharp features already making you weak in the knees. His body is clad in a perfectly tailored Armani suit, with dress shoes to match. 

It’s shameful to admit, but he looks gorgeous. Then again, when does he not?

“What the hell are you doing here?” 

He inches closer to you, his dress shoes lightly clacking against the marble tiles of the floor. “Relax, princess. I just came here to give you your wedding gift, seeing as I’m not invited to the actual wedding.”

“You weren’t invited here, either. If Jackson sees you—”

“—Let him see me. I don’t care.”

Same old Rafe Cameron, you think, cocky as ever.

“You can’t be here, Rafe. I’m not going to let you ruin this for me.” 

Your hands find his arms, and you spin him around before shoving him and making a beeline for the doors. You locate the nearest restroom and push him inside, locking the door behind the two of you.

“I gotta say, I’m not feeling very welcome here,” Rafe notes. 

“That’s because you aren’t. You know Jackson has always felt insecure about our past. It’s not fair of you to come here and try to stir the pot the night before our wedding. You have to go, Rafe.”

Rafe’s eyes trail down your form. The dress you’re wearing outlines your curves perfectly. Your arms are crossed against your chest, further accentuating your cleavage. Thanks to the heels strapped around your ankles, your legs look longer, and you’re glowing more than ever.

“You look stunning,” he notes, rubbing his fingers against his lips as he drinks you in. 

“Why are you here? Seriously.” 

“C’mon, baby. You didn’t think I’d let you marry that fucker without getting one last taste of what’s mine, did you?” 

A sinister-like smirk plasters itself on his face when he notices your stern expression falter, and he knows his words are having the desired effect on you. 

“Don’t go there, Rafe,” you say, walking over to the sink and creating more distance between you. You brace your hands on the counter, taking a deep breath and purposely avoiding Rafe’s heated gaze in the mirror's reflection. 

“Why? ‘Cause you’ll jump at the chance?” He asks, stepping closer to you. “I can see it in your eyes, princess. You miss me.”

You scoff, “Actually, I don’t."

“You do. You miss my hands on you,” he whispers. His large hands find your hips. He glides them upward and toward your tits. He cups them over your dress, squeezing them and then revelling in the small, tortured moan you let out. 

His lips brush against the shell of your ear, “You miss my lips on you.” 

Then, his hands slide down to your hips again, pulling your ass against the hard cock in the confinement of his slacks. “And you miss my cock inside of you, fucking you ‘til you’re babbling.”

You can feel yourself growing wet as he rubs against you, and you’re tempted to lean into his touch and give in. But then you think about how wrong this is. Yes, you’re harbouring feelings for your ex, but you’ve never acted on them and never planned to. And so, coming to your senses, you brush him off and turn to face him.

“Go home, Rafe. You…you have to go home.” 

You're barely able to maintain eye contact with him, and you're sure he'll either call your bluff or straight-up ignore your wishes.

“I’m not going anywhere."

Straight-up ignoring, it is.

“Stop it.”

“No,” he simply states. “You’re mine whether you like it or not, don’t you get that? You can’t walk away from this. From me.”

Rafe’s tongue darts out to moisten his lips as he stares down at you, awaiting your next move. He senses your uncertainty. He knows you need him just as much as he needs you, and he can see how hard you’re trying to fight it. 

He’s always loved your fiery persistence.

His gaze intensifies on yours, and before you can speak, his hand slips under the slit of your dress, cupping your wet core through your barely-there panties. The familiar feeling of his cool rings against you makes you shiver, just like old times.

“Look at that. Your pussy’s giving you away, baby. Even she knows you can’t resist me.” 

“Bite me,” you grit out, trying your best not to give him a reaction when his fingers tease your clit. 

“I will. Just remember you asked for it.” His head dips down, and he scrapes his teeth against your jawline, partially making good on his promise.

“You’re impossible. I can’t even look you in the eye right now.”

“Then turn the fuck around,” he says, both hands grabbing you before he spins you around to face the mirror. He hikes your dress up over your hips and tugs your panties to the side. You hear the clinking of his buckle as he undoes his belt, along with the unfastening of his zipper, and before you know it, his cock slams into you without warning. You inhale sharply at the sudden intrusion, and Rafe does nothing to hide the smug look on his face. 

Without allowing you to adjust, he starts to snap his hips against yours quickly and harshly, as if he’s punishing you for even daring to look in another man’s direction. 

“Rafe, fuck,” you whine, your sanity now long gone. Your mouth is wide open as you take his harsh thrusts. He uses this opportunity to fuck the idea into your brain: you will never be rid of him.

“Look how much you missed me. It’s written all over your face. Not to mention, all over my cock,” he grates, referring to the arousal you've coated him in. He goes harder, impaling you balls deep. “So fucking needy. Does he even fuck you right? Get you off? Or are you thinking of me when he tries?”

“Shut the fuck up and make me cum, Rafe.”

“I don’t think you’re in the position to make demands, sweetheart. Not when you’re about to marry a pathetic nobody that can’t make you scream like I can.”

You hate how his words still cut deep, mainly because he’s right. But you don’t want to give him the satisfaction, not when he’s already getting what he wants from you. 

You shut your eyes, trying to ignore him, but Rafe quickly shuts that down. He lands a harsh slap on your ass before gripping your throat. “Nuh-uh. You’re gonna watch me while I fuck you. You need to know that your pussy belongs to me. All your cum and all your orgasms belong to me. Not him. Not anyone else. Me.” 

You stare into his eyes in the mirror’s reflection after opening them back up, biting your lip as you try to keep yourself quiet. 

“There she is. There’s my girl,” he rasps. His hand leaves your throat, slithering down to your clit and rubbing rough circles into it. He feels your knees buckle when he does so, and he doesn’t miss the breathy moan that escapes your lips. “Fuck, I missed those sounds, princess.”

Rafe’s cock jams into a particularly deep spot inside of you, and before you can stop yourself, you yelp loudly. His jaw clenches, and the hand on your clit abandons it to cover your mouth and muffle your noises. 

“Make one more noise, and everyone in the goddamn party will know what a greedy fucking whore you are. One dick just isn’t enough to satisfy my girl, huh?” 

The secrecy and excitement blossoming from your current affair both send you into a spiral. You whimper against the palm of his hand, and you bite down on the skin to silence yourself. He’s reaching immaculate places and making you see stars, and you think that this must be what heaven feels like. You’re not quite sure what to make of the fact that Rafe is bringing paradise to you instead of your loving and faithful fiancé, but all you can focus on is how electrified you feel. 

“Play with your clit. Soak my fucking cock, baby.”

You do, flicking it relentlessly as Rafe fucks you over the edge. You cry into his hand, your breath shaky as your body jerks. The warmth spreads throughout your body, leaving a dewy glow on your skin. 

Rafe releases his hand from your mouth and returns it to your hip to get his own. He pulls you back into him repeatedly, his cock jamming into you and weakening your legs. 

“I’m going to cum right inside this pussy. Imagine if you were walking around on your wedding day with my baby in there. I think you’d fucking love that,” he grunts, getting himself worked up even further. Your walls flutter around him, thanks to his filthy mouth. He chuckles breathlessly, “That’s what I fucking thought.”

You reach behind you, grabbing his balls and massaging them in your hand. You feel his cock twitch inside you, followed by the heat of his cum shooting into your walls and painting them white. Rafe rides out his orgasm, and once he calms down, he pulls out of you. He moves your panties back into place and pulls your dress back down before tapping your butt with his index and middle finger.

“Now run back out there to your loser fiancé with my cum dripping down your thighs. Congratulations on the wedding.” 

updated rafe taglist (join here!): @pankowperfection @tinyluvs @oncasette @rafesmoon @hopesdadswife @taintedxkisses @maybankslover @goldenroutledge @penny4yourthoughts @bmo-bri @hemogloban @princessbetsy123-blog @slytherhoes @whoisdrewstarkey @dreamingwithrafe @vigilanteshitposting @twelfthmortalofcrimsonpalace @laineywilsons @sw34terw34ther @adoreyouusugar @rosie-cameron @f4ll-for-you @rafesdirtyslut @tell-me-when-ur-ready @bbycowboi @venomwh0re @cecesrings @cumbuckett @jjmaybankisbae @mvybanks

[arafilez]

LIGHTS, CAMERA, SMILE ㅤ—ㅤ ﹙★﹚

one night of spontaneity is all yeosang wants before he is back to the same routine. and you are just the right, gorgeous distraction !

PAIRING ﹕ k.ys x fem!reader ㅤㅤ✸ㅤㅤ GENRE ﹕ model au ㅤstrangers to lovers ㅤ fluffㅤ pg13 ㅤ﹢ㅤ 1.5k wc ㅤ—ㅤ WARNING ﹕ kiss, alcohol

EVENT ﹕ @pirateeznet second anniversaryㅤ⋆ㅤGRAPHICS ﹕ banner @kessavyo ㅤ﹢ㅤ moodboard @daemour

Lights! Camera! Bitch smile! Even when you wanna die.

Yeosang’s life has always been one of the most boring TV shows. Clicks of cameras, lenses shuttering, a smile that might as well be stitched by now and his body clad in designer clothes, he stands on the runway of Milan, under the glimmering lights of Italy.

A sigh leaves his lips, his porcelain-like skin crinkling the slightest as he plops down on the couch in the hotel lounge after what feels like the longest event in his entire career. But then again he knows he thinks that after every event, he drinks up his rosé wine and stumbles back to his room for the next day.

You have to suck it up, you chose this life yourself.

He is so immersed in twirling his glass on the table, smiling tipsily at the drink inside threatening to spill but never doing so, he does not notice when a figure slides down on the chair opposite to him. A short breath and clink of heels later he looks up, eyes meeting yours.

He opens his mouth to say the same sentence he has chanted like a mantra, sounding like a maniac to himself when he repeats it over and over, the usual ‘sorry no pictures or signatures allowed during my relaxation time’, you beat him to it and say, “Hi sorry if you don’t mind can I sit here? The other places aren’t really empty.”

Nervous whisper, hesitant smile and a dazzling voice.

For a moment he feels alive all over again before it dies. Probably just an excuse.

Yeosang slowly turns around in his seat ready to call out your bluff when he realises you aren’t lying. The chairs are actually filled with people chattering all around and reality slowly drips back to the slight haze he had let himself be covered in. “Sure,” his deep voice resonates between you two and you sigh in relief, putting down your bag and returning to your tablet.

His eyes fix on your features, long and droopy eyelashes, loose strands of hair along your nape, pursed lips as your hands move in a flawless manner over your tab. Yeosang has been an introvert all his life, never having the courage to even tap someone and talk to them so when his voice comes out he doesn’t even recognise it himself.

“Hi!”

“Hey!” you smile, putting down the tablet and the pen you were using on the table as you look at the man in front of you. He is quite literally flawless and looking at him you could tell either God really had favourites or he himself was a God.

“I am Kang Yeosang, nice to meet you,” his voice becomes shakier with each word, cursing himself for taking the initiative and actually talking when he probably has never started any conversation in his entire life.

“Y/n, nice to meet you too,” your grin widens as you hold out your hand and he takes it lightly. You notice the hesitance and curiosity burning in his gaze as he leaves your hand and continues staring at it.

You look at him discreetly slowly letting it sink in that the man in front of you is drop-dead gorgeous. High nose-bridge, perfect, accentuated lips, deep beautiful voice and the mark beside his eyes that feels intriguing.

Maybe it is the lighting of the lounge or the fact that you had had more than one drink for the night before you had made your way towards this enticing stranger, courage brimming in your system.

Elegance, sophistication, money. Things you could only dream of being a part of.

“So, Kang Yeosang, here for a nice little Italian trip?” the question easily slides up your lips. Maybe you just want to be a part of it for one night, one single night and maybe you could just get a taste of whatever eludes with sophistication in front of you.

He looks at you, now twirling the empty glass in his hand, and mouths, “Work.”

“So much work it requires you to be alone?” a slightly enunciating tone and Yeosang raises an eyebrow chuckling at the unasked question. What could hurt if he is actually bold and daring one night?

“Yes, unless I want to get caught in a scandal,” he notices the light change in your demeanour as soon as the sentence leaves his lips, your fingers which were lightly drumming the tablet screen now hovering unsurely, eyes widening for a millisecond before you regain your composure and hum lightly.

“I am a famous model,” he adds, finding it a bit odd how someone who is designing a suit on her tablet has never seen modelling shows. He doesn’t say it out loud, enjoying his boldness a bit too much for his liking.

One night.

One night before he goes back to the usual.

Lights! Camera! Bitch smile! In stilettos for miles.

“Well, if I had known that this is what I missed, I sure would have paid more attention to the boring walking shows,” a hint of mischief burns in your eyes as the sentence leaves your lips. Yeosang’s eyebrows raise to your flirty tone as he meets your eyes in a glance far too heated for a stranger.

You seem to be so much trouble! Gorgeous, messy, spontaneous trouble! Yet the trouble is what he likes.

“Bold for a designer to say that,” he leans across the table deliberately pulling your glass towards him and pushing it up to his lips for one sip.

One single sip and a rage of unwanted heat travels down your body.

Your eyes lock with his and travel down his defined cheekbones, down to his lips glistening in the aftertaste of the wine, your wine and down to the glass he is holding rather carelessly.

“Wanted a taste,” you hear his deep voice forming a silver lining over the deafening buzz in your ears.

“Only the drink?” you challenge, albeit bolder than you have been your whole life. The man in front of you is straight out of Greek mythology and it would be utterly stupid to let this opportunity go. Especially since he actually made a move.

“Mine’s finished,” he reasons, mischief sparkling in his eyes making you chuckle as you reply, “You can always refill.” “Where’s the fun in that?” his deep laugh travels down your spine and a range of emotions spark inside your body.

You don’t know how you end up in the fountain side from the couch. All you can remember his warm hands engulfing yours and a few whispered nothings later you are giggling by the water. The moon makes a clear reflection on the monuments and quite frankly it accentuates his features even more.

“Has anyone ever told you you are beautiful?” Yeosang’s voice reaches your ears much to his own surprise. Sober Yeosang would have never even thought about this and even though he had just had one glass, blaming it on alcohol felt so much easier. Freer.

He must have lost his mind, being so high on the night and blatantly complimenting a stranger he has met a few hours prior. One night, his mind resonates and he lets the worries easily slide to the back of his mind.

“Has anyone ever told you that the birthmark can be kissed all day long? And possibly every day!” The last part comes out as a whisper and you have no idea what you are doing. Any other time your mind would be blaring with the ‘Stranger Danger’ alert but tonight you just want one taste.

One taste of the man who eludes an amount of elegance you have never dreamed of reaching.

You let out a satisfied hum when you feel his mouth on yours, hands carelessly pressed against his chest. His fingers trail down your jaw enunciating kiss after kiss forming a cloud of haze over any rational decisions in your mind. When your fingers tangle in his hair he lets out a light groan, pressing your bodies to each other wanting to take anything the night is willing to give you two.

No camera, no reporters, nobody is watching you two but Yeosang is scared. More than he has ever been in the spotlight and he is not even in the spotlight right now.

Yeosang doesn’t know what is happening from here. He has never plunged into a risk so bad. But he knows- trouble is what he likes. So one night. One night before it dissolves into the harsh reality of tomorrow! One night before he has to hear the same “Lights! Camera! Smile.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ—ㅤ—

The smooth lining of the cloth wraps around Yeosang’s skin as he stands in the flashes of the camera on the Milan runway. He feels alive, free and happy to stand there and flaunt a cloth of his personal favourite designing line.

When he turns back and meets your eyes from the far behind of the curtain backstage, his laugh lines reappear and the camera flashes increase in intensity, shutters rapidly opening and closing.

"Lights! Camera! Smile!" The stage director calls out.

But this time the smile is real!

ARA'S NOTES ﹕ omg trying a different piece to write is so hard ngl. inspired by lyrics from "i can do it with a broken heart" by taylor swift. happy second anniversary to @pirateeznet yayyyyy and tysm to @daemour for beta-ing.

NAVI ﹕ @pirateeznet postㅤ⋆ㅤlibrary ㅤ atz shelfㅤ navi

TAGLIST ﹕ @haneagerr @weird-bookworm @aaa-sia @yeosayang @gong-fourz ㅤ⏤ㅤ fill this or comment or ask to be added.

ㅤㅤ(ㅤㅤ© arafilez on tumblrㅤㅤ)

[gallaghersgal]

idk I’m feeling sick rn and just need some kerry comfort thoughts

:((( i hope you feel better love!! here’s a mini blurb. no warnings! fluff fluff fluff, fem reader, use of “darlin” and “baby girl” 🥰🥰

a thud startles you awake, your aching body jolting at the noise. “‘ey darlin’, heeyyy,” kerry’s voice comes to you softly from across the bedroom. you hear him drop his jeans and coat, then his footsteps padding towards the bed.

“mmph—kerry?” you ask softly, your eyes remaining closed.

“shh, shh—yeah, jus’ me baby girl. didn’t mean t’ scare ya.” the bed dips as he plants one hand on the mattress, leaning down in the dark to kiss your forehead. you can sense the way his brow furrows, lips sealing to your heated skin again to confirm his worry. “y’re burnin’ up,” he mutters, and rests the backs of his fingers against your forehead.

a shiver runs through your body, “yeah, must’ve caught somethin’,” you groan, followed by a pathetic sniffle.

kerry can’t help but chuckle. his thumb brushes your cheekbone before he leans down to kiss the area. “i’ll getcha some medicine, m’kay? jus’ let me go brush m’teeth first.”

it’s a few minutes before he returns, glass of water and a little cup of cold medicine in his hands. you’ve sat yourself against the headboard, your body trembling as your immune system fights whatever is giving you hell. he’s now clad in nothing but a comfy pair of shorts, his chest a warm welcome for you to smush your face into after you’ve downed the medicine. “hate the taste ‘f that shit,” you grumble against his smooth skin.

one large hand cups your jaw and tilts your face up, patting your cheek gently before removing his hand to grab the water glass. kerry tips it to your lips so you can take a few sips to wash the sickly sweet, medicinal taste out of your mouth. “i know baby girl,” he coos, “jus’ drink f’me, atta girl.”

you whine but do as he says, taking the glass in your own hands to drink until it’s only a quarter full. water spills past the corner of your mouth as your hands tremble from the effort, your body clearly ready to reenter the peaceful, slumbering state you’d been in previously. kerry takes the glass when you’re finished and you lay down in bed, cozying up with your pillows.

“y’re gonna get sick,” you mumble as he lays down beside you, one strong arm pulling you to lay against him. his chest rumbles with a laugh—the way you’re congested you feel it more than hear it—and he kisses the crown of your head.

“we spend a helluva lot of time t’gether, i was bound t’get it anyway.” he counters. his hand rubs down your back soothingly, listening to the content sigh that escapes you.