#he needs to click and jingle when he walks

[wraithsoutlaws]

my dream mod is actually getting dagger's spurs in game

[sturnsdarling]

She's the coolest person I know.

fratboy!matt tries to play it cool about him and smartand'mean'!reader spending alot of time together, but fratboy!chris and Nate aren't convinced

vibe check: chris and nate being idiots, nate not knowing what an emo is lol, fratboy!matts version of fluff

1k words

A/N: this concept was born from and is my take on the wonderful, amazing and ridiculously talented @sturnioz fratboy!matt and fratboy!chrisxshy!reader au. THANKYOU SO MUCH FOR ALL OF THE LOVE ON MY TOUGH GIRL FIC OMFG. this is a lil blurb I cooked up as a finishing touch to my contribution to cas' au. also I just love this pairing so much it makes me unwell

love and cigs, merc

Matt quietly shuffled into the front door of his frat house, tucking his car keys in his pocket with as little jingle as possible in hopes of sneaking past Chris and Nate on the sofa. He clicked the door shut and the boys’ ears perked up. 

“Fuck” Matt whispered. 

“Matty boy! You’re back! Where the fuck have you been” Nate craned his neck round, a canon joint hanging from his mouth. 

“He’s been at y/ns house” Chris answered for Matt, turning to smirk at the boy as he shifted his weight between his feet by the entrance of the living room. 

“Y/n? Isn’t that the emo chick that’s best friends with your girl?” Nate asked, pointing to Chris. 

“She’s not emo dickhead, she’s just a bit… grungy” Matt piped up at your defence immediately, knowing Nate meant it as an insult.

“and s!r/n is not my girl” Chris responded to Nate’s accusation 

“She’s totally fuckin emo dude she wears fishnets and walks around lookin’ like she’s gonna kill someone” Nate snickered, “and, she’s definitely your girl” he looked back to Chris who was rolling his eyes. 

“You’re with her like everyday, kid” Matt folded his arms over his chest, taking this perfect opportunity to get the subject off of himself. 

“And you get all gushy over her like she’s some little pretty flower whenever she’s around” Nate laughed, looking to Matt who was nodding his head and joining in the laughter.

“Okay, both of you shut the fuck up, yeah? When did this become about me? Matt's the one sneaking in after spending the last three days with his little pet emo” Chris scoffed, leaning forward to ash his joint in the glass tray before taking a long drag. 

“She’s not fuckin—“ Matt gritted his teeth, “she’s not my pet you freak, we’re just hangin’ out” He shrugged. 

“That’s not what it sounded like the other night” Nate raised his brows at Matt, a childlike laugh erupting from his mouth as he blew weed smoke into the air. 

“UH! FUCK! MATT! YOU’RE SO BIG! UH” Chris moaned, making fake orgasm faces as he shifted his weight so it looked like he was getting fucked. Nate curled over in laughter, slapping his knee with his free hand. 

Arms folded over his chest and eyes firmly rolled to the back of his head in annoyance, Matt felt a vibrating in his pocket, ‘Arabella' by the Arctic Monkeys blared from his phone as he pulled it from his pocket. 

“Both a’you shut the fuck up before I break your fuckin’ jaws” Matt said before quickly answering the phone, your voice like honey on the other end. 

“Hi Matthew” you said, sweetly

“Hey angel, what’s up?” He said, turning away from the boys. 

The sound of the sofa shifting against the floor grabbed his attention back to them, he was met with the sight of Chris pretending to fuck the side of the couch, slapping the leather arm as if it’s an ass and Nate, pretending to give a blowjob to the end of his dying joint.

“You uh, you left your english lit book here, thought you’d wanna know in case you think you lost it or somethin”

“Oh, shit, did I?” Matt asked, leaning down and taking his shoe off, throwing it full force at his idiot brother and best friend making obscene gestures and noises only a few feet away from him, “I’ll come get it now, sweetheart, m’gonna need it” Matt said, his words focused on you but his gaze firmly on the boys as they curled over in laughter, dodging Matts flying trainer. 

“Okay, text me when you’re here, I’ll buzz you in” You responded. 

“Alright angel, I won’t be long” He said, ending the phone and shoving it into his pocket. 

“BYE Y/N” Nate screamed across the living room, giggling and rolling into Chris like a child 

“Are you two finished?” Matt said, kicking off his other shoe and humming it at them, they ducked out the way and their laughter continued, not yet tired of the bit they were doing. 

“You just got home from hers and you’re going back? Kids pussy whipped” Chris said, shaking his head. 

“Y’know what Chris, I think our boy likes her” Nate said, raising his eyebrows a couple times. 

“oh you definitely fuckin’ do! you actually like this girl” Chris responded, turning to Matt who’s cheeks had flushed a bright red 

“So what if I do? Is that a problem?” Matt said, near enough squaring up to the boys. 

“Nah man, it’s cool, she’s cool” Nate shrugged, sensing they may have struck a nerve. 

“Yeah she is fuckin’ cool, she’s cool as fuck actually, probably the smartest person I’ve ever met, on top of being unbelievably fuckin' hot and she’s easy to be around, unlike you two shit talkin' idiots” Matt sounded off, throwing an arm up in frustration. 

“Kids in love” Chris scoffed, cocking his head towards Matt as he looked at Nate 

“For real, he’s obsessed” Nate chuckled, “fuck baby keep doing that, you’re so sexy oh my fucking god” Nate mocked Matt, laying back on the sofa and holding his hands over his crotch, pretending to be holding a girls head there as she sucks him off. 

Chris laughed and smacked Nate’s hands away from his dick, slapping his palm and dapping him up in agreement. 

Matt rolled his eyes and tensed his jaw, shaking his head as he turned to walk towards the front door. 

“When I get back m’gonna kick the shit out’a both of you” Matt said, pushing his feet into his sliders and opening the door in a huff, slamming it behind him, making the whole front room shake. 

“Whatever you say, angel!” Chris said, mimicking Matts nickname for you. 

Matt strode down the path towards his car in a huff, almost ripping his car door off its hinges as he slammed down into the passenger seat, taking a deep and fast breath. After a few short seconds of sitting with closed eyes to ground himself, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and called you.

"how the fuck did you get here so fast?" your voice a soothing balm to his anger on the other end of the phone.

He chuckled, "I haven't even left my driveway yet, angel, just wanted to call you and let you know i'm staying at yours again tonight" he said, putting his keys into the ignition and starting his car.

"okay, s'fine. any particular reason or?" You drew out your final word

"jus' rather be with you than at mine" Matt said, shrugging.

"Awh, Matthew, you're so cringe" your cadence was insulting but Matt could feel your cheesy smile through the phone.

"watch your mouth, tough girl, or i'll fill it" his threatening tone sent a jolt up your spine

"Is that a promise?" you asked, seductively, a quick change in demeanour that Matt adored.

"you're a deviant, y'know that right?" Matt shook his head as he smiled at your response, it was like he built you in a lab.

"Just shut up and get here, I miss you, idiot" you hung up the phone before he could respond, not wanting to face the teasing that would inevitably follow admitting you miss him after barely an hour of being apart.

Matt opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by the sound of you hanging up, a grin crawled its way onto his face and he couldn't help but relish in the way you made him feel. He meant what he said to his brother and Nate, you really were the coolest person he knew.

[mintmatcha]

OMG MINT please continue bc kiri saying again … was he picking up the pieces before w reader ??

cw: Reader is a high school in this part, reader is said to not be conventionally attractive.

Kirishima remembers the first time Sero ever saw you.

He's fumbling with his key ring in the most obvious way he can, letting it swing and jingle around his fingers.

"My parent's won't be back until late tonight, so we can do whatever." Kirishima isn't one to brag, but there's still something cool about being a latchkey kid. He doesn't have Bakugo's big house or all of Denki's gaming systems, but he's got the coolest hang out spot because he has all the privacy they could ever need.

"You bozos should actually study this time-" Bakugo says, slinging his backpack across his shoulders.

Denki groans. "You're so lame-"

"Your grades are lame!"

Kirishima unlocks the door to the apartment when another door across the hall opens. He doesn't turn at first, thinking it's just Mr. Yagami leaving for the night shift-

"Eijiro-"

Kirishima turns at the sound of your voice. Catty corner from him, you're halfway out of your apartment door, still dressed in your wrinkled school uniform. The smile you flash him is timid, mostly covered up the doorframe.

"Hold on, guys."

He walks over to you with a little wave and you produce a familiar set of containers, perfectly cleaned and polished, just like always.

"Tell your mom thank you," you mumble, adjusting your glasses as you speak. Kirishima thinks it's weird that you're being so quiet today, but then your eyes flicker to the group behind him. School's hard for you, he thinks, the other kids aren't very nice to you most of the time. At least, that's what his mom says when you aren't around.

"It was really good, thank you."

"Yeah, don't mention it," Kirishima points back to his gaggle of boys. "These are my friends from school, by the way. Bakugo, Denki, and the tall one's Sero. They're all really cool."

Your face goes weird when he says Sero's name. Not sour or stressed or something he knows, just... funny. Like you've swallowed a lemon whole.

"I'm the only cool one here," Bakugo says.

"Aw, don't listen to this big grump-" Sero throws an arm around Bakugo. "We're pretty okay."

"Hi." With a little wave, you duck back inside your place and let the door close. Kirishima starts to go back to his friends, but for Sero to stop him.

"So, who was that?" Sero asks, a bit too interested for Kirishima's liking. Bakugo bumps his shoulder into the dark haired boy, then shoves his full body weight. Even when Sero stumbles, he keeps looking.

"She's cool, just super shy. My mom gives her food sometimes." He shakes the Tupperware for effect. "She lives by herself because her school's around here."

"Ask her to hang out with us," Sero says.

Denki groans again. "Why would we want some weirdo girl-?"

Sero's already slunk across the hall. Bakugo and Denki share a look and roll their eyes; last summer's growth spurt didn't only give Sero a couple extra inches of height-- it gave him too much confidence and too strong of an interest in girls. Denki could kind of relate, minus the confidence. Thankfully, Bakugo didn't seem to care about women at all.

(Kirishima was thankful for that.)

The blondes both go inside the apartment when Kirishina opens the door, but Sero has already knocked and peeled you out of your shell.

"Hey, we were just thinking-"

That funny look comes over you again- a strained, sloppy smile, own that-

It clicks in Kirishima's head the second Sero leans against the doorframe, one arm extended above his head. You think he's cute.

You think he's very cute.

Sero seems to know it, too.

"I- uh- I-" You're fumbling each word. "I have cram school-"

"Aww-" He runs a hand through his hair with a cool little smile. "What a bummer."

Kirishima's stomach twists at bit, mostly on instinct. He doesn't have strong feelings towards you or anything, but he suddenly feels a surge of protectiveness, like an older sibling watching the younger get whisked away.

You're not even cute, Kirishima thinks, not in the ways that Sero usually goes for. He usually goes for girls without glasses or braces, the types that win beauty pageants and don't have stutters-

Flirting with you just seems... cruel in comparison. It's a game he knows he can win.

[biteyoubiteme]

busy signal

fem!reader x huening kai x choi yeonjun

synopsis: yeonjuns away on a trip and sends you a suggestive photo leaving you needing the help of your other boyfriend kai to take care of you.

warnings: 🔞!! established relationship, throuple/poly, no mxm, phone sex, breeding kink if you squint, size kink if you squint, praise, nipple play, fingering, multiple orgasms (f!rec), oral (f!rec), unprotected sex, creampie, use of the name baby, love, and the word slutty is used once.

wc: 4.7k oops

an: this is my first post on tumblr and first time writing anything with k-pop idols. feedback is appreciated :)) [m.list]

in the middle of class your phone gave a deafening jingle in the silent room. for the better part of the day your phone had not gone off meaning you didn’t know the ringer was waiting to interrupt your lesson. waiting for the perfect time to make you flustered as you tried to dig it out of your over-cramped bag to shut it off. 

by the time you grab it, the class is watching as your cheeks turn pink stitching it to silent. the professor clears their throat to catch everyone’s attention again as you look at the message that embarrassed you. 

thinking of you <333

the photo attached is enough to make your blush burn your ears. Yeonjun had an away game this week in Chicago. Kai and you were unable to make it because of your class schedules, and every time he went away with the hockey team he made sure to fill your phone with lude photos and audios. in his words to “make sure you don’t forget about me.”

so now you were not only embarrassed for the outburst but feeling needy all at once. Yeonjun was leaning back shirtless on his hotel bed fisting his hard cock through the thin material of his underwear. 

you clicked your phone off as fast as you could hoping no one saw the photo and if they did it had been too quick to know exactly what it was. but you knew instantly because it was one of Yeonjuns favorite poses and he knew it was one of your favorites. 

You still had thirty minutes in class left and a bike ride home where you were sure to call Yeonjun to chew him out knowing he has your schedule memorized. for now you slumped in your seat pushing your thighs together to relieve yourself, if only slightly because as class went on the only thing you could think about was Yeonjun and his teasing. 

when you do call Yeonjun he chuckles over the line “I’m sorry the time difference has me all messed up,” 

“I was so embarrassed,” your tone is on the edge of a whine and you can practically hear Yeonjun smile. 

“Did I make you all hot and bothered in theoretical physics?” 

“junnie,” you drag the name out and he chuckles again.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you can hear one of his teammates calling for him, “I’ll call you tonight maybe I can walk you through your little problem,” 

“I don’t have a problem,” but it’s a lie and he knows it. your bike ride having made it all the more obvious how needy you really are, the seat pushing the seam of your jeans right against your clit uncomfortably. 

“liar,” he sings, “if you can’t wait until tonight you do have Kai waiting at the apartment.  he could fix your problem,”

“I don’t have a problem for anyone to fix,” you say, making it to your apartment and locking your bike up. “and kai is busy you shouldn’t be making me his to handle when you did this to me,” 

“So you admit it,” grin in his voice. 

“Yeonjun-“ 

“yes yes I know no teasing you cross country but hey you have two boyfriends for a reason. now I have to go, I love you!” he hung up before you could reply. 

kai, Yeonjun, and you have been a trouple since high school and friends for far longer. it was not unusual in your relationship for Yeonjun to pass you off to Kai seeing as both of you tended to be a bit shy around each other when it came to sex unless it was the right circumstances i.e being drunk or just being extra clingy. kai and you are always cuddling and close. you love it when he touches you but Yeonjun is usually there to guide the two of you together, that one extra push to set the two of you in motion. you mostly think this is because the three of you started this way in the first place making it the norm. 

you push open the door to your shared apartment kicking off your shoes and handing your keys on the hook. Kai's penguin keychain is already in its place showing he’s home. The only light coming from the office down the short hallway, the curtains closed against the setting sun. Padding your way over to the office you see Kai with his rumpled brown hair typing on his keyboard. He had a long paper due by midnight and had been working on it the past week, even last night he had only made it to bed around two in the morning. 

you toss your school bag next to your empty desk on the opposite side of Kai’s before leaning over his seat to wrap your arms around him in a hello. “working hard huening?” you ask, pressing the side of your face into his hair. He tilts his chin in a way signaling to peck his check all without him taking his eyes away from the screen. 

“nearly done,” 

“Have you been staring at the screen all day?” you ask, taking in his squinted eyes and dark circles. “Did you eat anything since I left this morning?” 

“some jelly I found in the fridge,” he nods. 

“You can’t survive only on jelly,” you press on more kisses to his cheek before pulling away, “I’ll order takeaway for dinner but for now I’m going to try and nap,” he nods away, never leaving the essay the entire time. you are halfway out the door when he speaks up, “Did you talk to Hyung? Did his game go well?” and you’re brought back to the photo on your phone. kai would have been able to see how red you had gotten if he had looked your way. you weren't wearing a bra under your sweatshirt, your tank top being sufficient enough but your nipples are hard and uncomfortable against the martial. 

“His game was good, he um, interrupted my class with his messages,” your voice was weak but unnoticed by Kai. 

“oh good,” and you rush to your room to pull off your clothes. first the jeans digging into you then your sweatshirt. but as you lay down in your empty bed you can’t find anything to calm your racing mind. you grab your phone from the nightstand trying to scroll aimlessly but you keep thinking about the photo. 

tossing and turning you end up on your stomach too hot to be under the covers even in only your panties and tank top. you open the text chain with Yeonjun and it’s the first thing you see. the sly little “thinking of you” message eating you alive. it was so unfair that he was so easily satisfied when away from you but you couldn’t get off by yourself and not that you hadn’t tried many times before. your hands weren’t the right feel, too short fingers, too soft, too much to think about. but you needed to get off now, looking at him with the veins in his hands showing off. you were uncomfortably wet and aching. you hadn’t even noticed the small whines you were letting out as you rolled over to your back pulling your knees up to rub your thighs together. 

you wanted to call Yeonjun and beg him to walk you through an orgasm, wanted to beg Kai to take over with his mouth even if he was exhausted. but you dug your grave earlier and wouldn’t hear the end of it from Yeonjun if you fessed up to being so turned on by the photo. 

This conundrum leads you to the file you had saved with all the previous photos Yeonjun had sent for this very purpose. there was no forgetting him now and not ever when he made you feel this way hundreds of miles away. 

you hadn’t even noticed how late it was getting, how the room was dark and you were still stuck lying in bed looking for a release you couldn’t give yourself. and not for the lack of trying you just couldn’t make it to the end. Every missed orgasm made you tear up your soft whines suddenly pulling Kai’s attention from the other room. 

The office has an adjoining wall and he was too focused on his paper to see what time it was or to see that the only light now was from his screen. He hit submit flicking off the monitor to hear your soft whimper. 

he remembered you saying you would be taking a nap and then ordering food. but now seeing the time you had slept for way longer than you usually napped for after class and he would know because it was one of his favorite after-class activities to nap right along with you. 

he picked himself up from his desk making his way into the dark hallway following your desperate whines. When he made it to the dark bedroom the three of you shared he flipped the switch that only lit the far corners lamp. and There you were with your hand in your pale pink panties eyes screwed shut, skin hot and flushed. you gave a weak sob before tugging your hand back still unaware of Kai in the doorway. 

Kai was frozen, face turning all different shades of pink. He was tired before but now he was awake, the swell of his cock clearly seen through his gray sweatpants. He has always reacted easily to the sight of you and he was fast to try and push those feelings away. He was needy and always believed himself to be too needy and he wanted to keep you from that. Let Yeonjun take over sexually and let Kai take over emotionally. 

but now here you are teary and writhing in the bed. your phone is next to your head and without warning it rings startling both you and Kai, who you finally notice. 

 both of you are still as the ringtone sings alone in the silence. “answer it,” Kai’s voice is thick in his throat and you lean up on your elbows to grab the phone, shutting your knees to try and hide the wet spot on your panties as if he hadn't already seen it. 

“I almost didn't think you would pick up,” is the first thing Yeonjun says, the sound of his crinkling sheets on the other line telling you he was tucking in for the night. 

“I was…” another tear sliding down your cheek, eyes locked on huening who gives nothing away. “busy,” the phone pressed to your ear. 

“busy? working out the problem I gave you?” he says it as a joke but you’re already too needy to take it well. your voice shakes ready to burst into tears, “You’re the worst you already know I can’t do it myself,” you blink up to the ceiling trying to hold back any more tears from slipping and to avoid Kai’s gaze. 

“Where is kai? I left you in perfectly capable hands,” 

“he was busy and I didn’t want to bother him,”

“But where is he now, you said was, so he must be done. His deadline was a few minutes ago,” you peek over to huening, his arms crossed still standing in the door watching you, eyes trying to see right through your legs. “He's here,” you whisper shyly. 

“put me on speaker,” 

“junnie,”

“put me on speaker,” no room for argument. you follow instructions balancing the phone on your knees so you can rest your elbow back down on the mattress. “I leave for three days and you guys can’t live without me?” 

“Hyung-“

“huening we’ve been over this before if she needs to be taken care of she gets taken care of,” 

“I’m not a house plant,” you quip, “ and I don’t need to be forced onto any-“ 

“you’re never forcing me,” Kai cuts in, “if you had asked I could have…” but he shakes his head not knowing how to continue.

“use your words,” Yeonjun pushed after Kai trails off, “You both get nowhere without asking, again we've been over this. kai you know what you're doing and she likes it, loves it, hell we both know she likes your fingers over mine,” 

“junnie,” your blush is all down your chest now made to look worse by your white tank, your nipples are straining against the fabric. you don’t know why you always felt so shy around Kai, maybe it was because he was so much bigger than you even if you were a little older. he stood over you, took up space in the doorframe, and completely wrapped himself around you when you hugged, that added with the fact he too was shy only worsened the effect you had on each other. even after knowing each other for most of your lives. 

Kai had already made it to the bed sitting right on the edge close enough to hear the phone better. “Pick yourself up, use your words, and ask for what you want. if I can’t even see you and I know exactly what it is you want then it should be easy for the two of you to grasp,” 

“But what if…” Kai starts and you know he wants to bring up the one time he didn’t make you finish. It was years ago in high school when the three of us were still new to sex. Yeonjun was there to make you cum but it made Kai scared ever since and it only worsened his fear of repeating that night when Yeonjun wasn’t here to make up for him. 

“huening that was like six years ago and I’ve seen you make her cum so hard she couldn’t form words before. Do you need me to walk you through it?” 

Kai placed a hand around your ankle at the question sending a bolt to your core. your knee jerking in response sending the phone flying from your knee and onto your stomach still face up. “could you?”

“What's she wearing?” 

Kai drags his hand up your calf and you clamp your knees together. “hardly anything,” his voice is throaty, his pupils blown. “the blush pink panties and a spaghetti strap tank,” 

Yeonjun hums over the phone approvingly. “Summer always makes her dress so slutty,” he groans, “not fair I don’t get to see,” 

“facetime?” Kai asks leaning over to place a feather-light kiss on your knee. 

“you guys won’t be able to hold the phone the way I want to see,” he shuffles again in bed. “is she wet?” 

you whimper at the question keeping your knees pinned together but Kai already knows the answer, “soaked even though she’s trying to hide it,”

“am not,” and Kai raises his brows but doesn’t push it, only lays another stomach-fluttering kiss on your knee. 

“always wants to deny deny deny,” and Kai chuckles,” Pull her legs open I’m sure you will have to hold her thighs down,” 

Kai follows his instructions, butterflying your legs to either side, hands eating up your thighs. Kai pulls himself onto the bed fully laying down to be level with your clothes core. you can feel his breath through the wet fabric and you try to wiggle away. 

Kai squeezes the meat of your thigh again in warning. “take your time before taking her panties off,” 

kai blows cool air onto your clothed wet center making you buck your hips so sensitive from the strain of the day. Kai keeps you pinned before leaning in to rub his nose over the sodden fabric, the tip brushing your clit sending a chill up your spine. He gives a little smile at your reaction, your teeth digging into your lip. 

“I want to hear you baby,” Yeonjun took the words right from his mouth. Kai needs to hear your moans now with your tears drying on your cheeks, your desperate whines turning into desperate pleas. 

Kai gives the smallest kiss to your clit and you try to chase the sensation. “Kai,” your pout is unheard as he lifts a finger to pull back your panties to reveal you to him. 

and no matter how many times he’s faced your pussy it will forever be his favorite sight. your puffy lips begging to be sucked, clit swollen, and you never fail to be drenched and glistening. He licks his lips, you had mentioned him needing to eat and now he’s faced with his favorite meal. 

“slow huening you always give her what she wants so fast let her wait,”

“junnie please, I’ve been waiting all day,” you try to roll your hips to meet Kai’s face but he pulls away keeping his finger hooked in your panties. it’s hard to completely move with his chest on your feet but it doesn’t stop you from trying when he latches onto your thigh leaving a trail of kisses and bites. 

“Please,” you breathe and the chorus of both of them moaning makes your stomach flutter, they always make the prettiest noises. 

Kai quits his teasing and gives you one last clit kiss before suddenly licking a path from your entrance to your clit where he latches on and gives a harsh suck. the sensation makes your knees jerk up and you reach a hand out to tangle in his hair, tugging hard. “oh fuck,” are the only coherent words Yeonjun can make out over the phone. 

in Chicago, he’s spread out on his bed phone in one hand and his cock in the other. gripping the base to relieve some pressure but not jerking off just yet. 

kai works your clit just the way you like and you can feel your impending orgasm building with how close you’ve been all night. kai let’s go of your thigh with one hand before gathering up your slick and prodding your entrance. your back arches giving him better access and you moan as he slips a finger in and then another. 

“She's close,” Yeonjun breathes. He and Kai both know the change in your whimpering. 

kai nips at your clit and you cry out as he presses the sweet gummy spot inside you that makes you see stars. you cum hard enough to have tears leaking again, your hand pulling Kai down harder on your clit before it’s too much and you have to let him go. 

kai pulls away but not before licking you clean leaving you twitching. your pussy was swollen and he couldn’t wait to feel you strangling his cock the second he got it in you. 

“See I told you that you didn’t have to worry,” Yeonjuns light laugh from the phone is followed by a weak moan. “legs up, fold her in half,” 

Kai doesn't follow his orders first, picking up the phone and placing it on your chest. you were already spilling out of your tank so he took the opportunity to tug the straps down and reveal your tits to him. Kai bites his lip before leaning down to give you soft pecks all along your chest. “I didn’t even kiss you first I'm so sorry baby,” he mutters into your neck kissing up your jaw and to your mouth. 

before you can say anything in return his mouth is in yours and you can taste yourself on his tongue. Now with him hovering over you your legs are free to wrap around him. tugging his sweatpants-covered cock closer to your entrance. He moans into your mouth before his large hand takes hold of your breast tweaking your nipple. “huening,” you moan, throwing your head back when he ruts into you. He leans down to latch his lips around your untouched breast, nipping you as he rolls his hips forward again. 

the phone is close to Kai’s mouth and Yeonjuns breathing is labored on the other end. “I can’t wait any longer,” Yeonjun spits into his palm giving himself one loose tug, “I want to hear her cum again,” 

Kai nods even if he can’t be seen over the phone and he pulls away from you tugging off his shirt by the back collar and throwing it behind him. he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his sweats, a wet spot where he has been rubbing against you, tugging them down to let his cock slap his stomach. The release makes him moan, knowing just like Yeonjun he couldn’t wait and he needed to hear you moaning again. he wastes no time in tugging your ruined panties down your legs before placing his hands in the pit of your knees and bending you in half like Yeonjun suggested. your ankles are on Kai’s shoulders and he has the perfect view. 

your hair all over the pillows, eyes half-lidded, you had taken over with tugging on your nipples, your tank top now a makeshift belt around your center, phone stuck to your chest from the sheen of sweat you now had. 

you watched Kai drag a hand over his cock, hard and red waiting for you. He almost buckled at the feeling, his free hand wrapping around your thigh to pull you open. “Look at you,” he whispers, taking the tip and dragging it through your wet folds. the sound is loud and Yeonjun chuckles “She sounds ready,” 

but Kai’s not moving to slide into you he’s now back to teasing, running the head of his cock back and forth from your entrance to your clit without enough pressure. you roll your hips whining, “Hyuka please,” he shudders at the nickname before notching the mushroom tip of his cock inside you. it always amazed you how he could fit all of himself in you when before you had always believed you would never be able to take all of him. but he proves you wrong again as he pushes in inch by inch both of you moaning loud enough for Yeonjun to buckle all the way in Chicago. “fuck fuck fuck you sound so good,” he’s trying to go slow with the rhythm he tugs but he can’t keep himself in check the way you do for him. 

kai bottoms out leaning forward and bending you properly in half before burying his nose into your neck to try and catch his breath. 

you can feel him so deep you can’t think straight. his arms hugging your legs to him as he places an open palm over your ribs, the heat of his skin on yours letting you sink into the mattress. kai kisses the swell of your collarbone before pulling out an inch and pushing back in. You whimper at the sensation, weaving your fingers in his dark hair and pulling the strands. both of your boys loved their hair to be played with during sex or just resting next to each other. 

kai pushes himself up placing his free hand next to your head for leverage, holding you still by your side with the other. he pulls out almost all the way and you try to chase him making him giggle, “Patience love I’ll give you more,” he slowly inches in and you hum arching into him. “look at you, how did I get so lucky? hum?” the praise makes you preen and Yeonjun approves, “so willing for us,” he grunts the soft sound of his hand slapping heard. 

kai picks up the pace to match the sound, he's knocking the cradle of your legs, heavy balls matching the beat on your skin. ”deeper,” it’s a throaty ask from your lips but Kai hears you and sinks his hips, elbow bending slightly as his other hand tugs on your tank top using it like a handle. and he goes deeper and you swear you can feel him in your throat, your moan not even sounding like you anymore. kai is now pounding into you finding the heady rhythm Yeonjun set with ease, fucking into you so well that the phone slips from your chest into the crook of your neck pressing the speaker into your ear. Yeonjuns moans are louder making your toes curl your second orgasm building heavy in your stomach. “I want it hyuka please cum in me,” 

Kai’s movements falter at your plea, his arm holding him up buckling from his stutter. “Beg,” Yeonjun mutters knowing exactly what Kai needs, if anything Yeonjun thinks huening has a thing for hearing you beg and whimper and that’s why he holds out so long when it comes to you after you both have overcome your shyness. but jun knows that when you both get to this point in the night Kai needs you to beg for him. 

“Please I can take it,” Kai’s head falls to your ear, his moans in one and Yeonjuns in the other, “please I’ve been good,” 

“no she hasn’t,” Yeonjun groans, “she was looking at dirty pictures in class,” 

Kai almost can’t take the accusation, the trembling in his arm traveling down his spine, he wants to cum, knows it’s going to happen at any moment but he wants you there with him. “p-pictures?” He can hardly get any words out. 

“I wasn’t,” you shake your head before crying out as Kai delivers a powerful thrust. 

“she was and I don’t think she should cum now since she’s denying it,” 

“Yeonjun please,” you have tears threatening to spill. your hand in Kai’s hair pushing him closer to your throat your other one scratching at the back of his neck, “please hyuka I wasn’t, please I want to cum please please pl-“Kai takes his thumb and shoves it into your mouth to quiet you, your tank top now forgotten as you suck his finger. “promise to take it all,” he’s breathless hot air fanning over your skin. 

“I want it please hyuka,” you whine when he takes his thumb back to wedge between the two of you to press on your clit. you jolt at the contact and somehow he sinks deeper between your legs, both of you trying to chase the feeling again. 

you can feel him twitch inside you, the sign he’s about to cum. “junnie?” 

“I’m right there baby,” his breathy moans growing louder by the second. 

Kai presses down on your clit stilling inside you as he cums. his moans pressed into your ear. The heat of him as he gives weak strokes to ride out his high triggers your orgasm right after your head falls back into the pillows, legs shaking as your pussy flutters around Kai. Yeonjun follows right after, his curses stained. 

the room is silent as Kai finally lets his arm go, letting his full weight lay on you. your legs are numb as you feel Kai's light kisses behind your ear. “you did so well,” your happy sigh is enough to make Kai grin against your skin. 

“I made a mess,” Yeonjun mutters, “I wish I had my girl to come lick me clean,” 

“junnie,” the image making you pulse around Kai’s softening cock, it wouldn't be the first time Yeonjun had made you follow the trail he left up his stomach. 

kai finally rises back up letting your legs fall as he pulls out. the steady leak of your combined cum warm and staining the sheets. 

you’re completely limp in the bed as huening moves to grab a wet rag to wipe you up. “I can’t wait to see you tomorrow night,” Yeonjuns smile heard over the line. 

“I can’t believe you told Kai I was looking at dirty pictures,” your hand falls over your eyes as you feel huening spread your legs, the warm rag soothing to your heated flesh. 

“you did look at my dirty photo”, 

“It was like a flash bang i wasn’t expecting it while in class,” 

“So you were looking at dirty pictures in class,” Kai laughs, kissing your inner thigh before guiding your legs into a new pair of clean panties. He had already put on new briefs himself before tugging off the soiled comforter to toss in the wash later. He was always so meticulous in picking up after sex where Yeonjun could easily have snuggled in dirty sheets and all. 

“not really,” you sit up to tug your tank top back into place pulling your phone along with you. “just hurry back already, and let’s not bring it up again,”

Kai pulls the spare blanket from the closet before pulling himself under with you. “yeah hyung hurry back the bed feels empty with only the two of us in it,” 

[deliciousangelfestival]

You're The One - 3

Summary: A daughter uncovers the wild, untold story of how her parents’ marriage began—and it’s way better than any romance movie she’s ever watched.

Character: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Genre: Romance, Comedy

Words Count : 1,654

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , -

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

Bucky stopped the car abruptly in front of an outdoor gear shop, cutting the engine with a purposeful click. He turned to you, his intense blue eyes meeting your confused expression. “We’re stopping here.”

“What are you doing?” you asked, shifting uncomfortably in your seat, your hands smoothing the delicate fabric of your wedding dress.

“You need to change your clothes,” he said, his voice calm but firm.

You crossed your arms defiantly, leaning back into the car seat. “No.”

He exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose as if summoning patience. “Do you really want to go skydiving in that dress?”

You looked down at the intricate gown you wore—a masterpiece of lace and silk, designed by a famous designer and stitched by twenty skilled hands. It was beautiful, the one thing about this doomed wedding you truly appreciated. “This dress is stunning.”

“It is,” Bucky agreed, stepping out of the car with a smooth, deliberate motion. He shut the door with a firm thud and walked around to your side. His leather boots crunched against the gravel as he moved. “But it doesn’t say anything about you.”

Your brow furrowed as he opened your door. He leaned down slightly, his posture commanding but his tone gentle. “The dress owns you, not the other way around.” He extended his hand.

You hesitated, your fingers brushing against his hand before accepting his help. His grip was warm and steady as he helped you out of the car.

Together, you walked into the shop. The heavy door creaked as it swung open, and a bell jingled above. Heads turned immediately. Customers and employees froze mid-motion, their eyes widening at the sight of you in your elaborate wedding gown.

You felt the weight of their stares, instinctively clutching the skirt of your dress. Your cheeks flushed, but Bucky walked confidently ahead, completely unbothered. His broad shoulders cut through the crowd as he scanned the racks with a laser focus.

“Here.” He plucked a practical outfit from the racks and handed it to you with a decisive motion. “Put this on.”

You held the outfit at arm’s length, giving it a skeptical once-over. “Who’s paying for this?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “I didn’t bring my wallet—or anything, for that matter.”

“Me,” he said simply, adding a pair of sturdy shoes to your pile without even checking the price tag.

Your brows shot up in disbelief. “Since when are you so generous? The Bucky I know pinches pennies.”

His lips curved into a small smirk, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “I’m rich,” he said, pointing to himself.

“You?” You folded your arms, tilting your head at him, clearly unconvinced.

“Yes, me,” he replied, leaning closer until his face was inches from yours. His voice dropped to a low murmur. “Now go change. We’re on a tight schedule.”

He stepped back and gestured toward the fitting rooms. You sighed dramatically but did as he asked. Inside the small, dimly lit room, you carefully slipped out of the wedding dress, taking your time to fold it neatly. Despite everything, you still hoped to return it. The new outfit fit perfectly, even the shoes, though you wondered how he’d known your size so precisely.

When you stepped out, Bucky was waiting, leaning casually against a rack of jackets. His eyes lit up as he saw you, and he gave you a playful double thumbs-up. “Much better,” he said, his voice warm.

You hugged the wedding dress to your chest. “What should I do with this? I want to return it.”

“Give it to me,” he said, stepping forward. His gloved hand brushed yours as he took the dress. “I’ll have someone deliver it to the church. Trust me.”

You hesitated, your fingers lingering on the fabric before letting it go. “Okay,” you said, though doubt flickered in your eyes.

“Now go pick out a jacket,” he said, his tone lighter as he nudged you gently toward another section of the store.

As you walked away, Bucky’s smile faded. He pulled out his phone and murmured something low and quick. Minutes later, a man appeared, dressed in an unassuming black jacket. Bucky handed him the wedding dress without a word. The man gave a curt nod and disappeared as quickly as he had arrived.

“Take it to goodwill. Now,” Bucky muttered, his eyes darting to where you were browsing jackets. “Don’t let her see you.”

“Sir…” A timid voice interrupted him. A young part-time employee stood nearby, her wide eyes darting nervously between him and the now-absent wedding dress. “Why… why was she wearing a wedding dress?”

Bucky turned his head slightly, his expression unreadable. A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Life’s complicated,” he said, his tone leaving no room for further questions.

“I’m ready,” you said, returning with a jacket in hand. He turned to you, his smirk softening into something warmer as he helped you slip it on.

“Perfect,” he said. With a hand lightly resting on your lower back, he guided you toward the exit.

As the two of you left, the employees gathered near the counter, their voices hushed but urgent.

“Why was she wearing a wedding dress?” one whispered.

“I don’t know, but they didn’t seem like strangers,” another replied.

Then the television behind the counter blared a breaking news alert. “Bride-to-be of the Jordan heir kidnapped on her wedding day!” Your photo flashed across the screen. Gasps filled the room.

“Oh my God, it’s her!” a cashier exclaimed. “And that guy—he’s her kidnapper?”

“They seemed… close, though?”

“Should we call the news?"

Unbeknownst to you, the breaking news of your disappearance was plastered across headlines. But you and Bucky were completely oblivious as you headed to the skydiving site, the tension between you giving way to cautious curiosity.

In the car, you stole a glance at him. His hands gripped the steering wheel casually, his jaw set with a quiet determination. Finally, you broke the silence. “Where have you been all this time, Bucky?”

He didn’t look at you right away. Instead, his lips quirked into a small, almost mischievous smile. “Around.”

“Around?” You raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “That’s not an answer.”

“I’ve been... working.” His voice was deliberately vague, but the slight tilt of his head as he glanced at you hinted at something more. “Made some money.”

You frowned. “Made some money how?”

“Does it matter?” he asked, brushing off your question with a shrug. “I’m here now, aren’t I?”

Before you could press further, the car pulled to a stop at the skydiving facility. The sight of the towering hangar and parachutes on display made your stomach flip. Your hands clenched into fists at your sides as you stepped out, staring at the planes in the distance.

“This was on your bucket list, wasn’t it?” Bucky said, walking up beside you. His voice was teasing, but his eyes held a knowing gleam.

“Yeah, but…” You glanced nervously at the sky. “That doesn’t mean I’m ready.”

“You’ll be fine,” he said, clapping a hand on your shoulder. His touch was warm and steady, grounding you despite the nerves swirling in your stomach.

Inside the hangar, you were fitted with a jumpsuit and harness, your nervousness growing with each passing moment. Bucky, already suited up, looked completely at ease, his confidence almost irritating.

On the plane, the hum of the engine filled the cabin. You sat next to Bucky, your fingers fidgeting with the straps of your harness. The plane vibrated slightly as it ascended, and your anxiety reached a peak.

“Wait…” You looked over at him, realizing something. “Why am I being tied to you?”

Bucky smirked, securing the straps that connected the two of you. “Because I’m already a certified instructor.”

“What?” Your eyes widened. “Since when?”

“Now.” He grinned just as the plane door opened, and without another word, he jumped, pulling you along with him.

“KYA!!” You screamed as the wind roared in your ears. Your stomach dropped as the world below turned into a blur of blue and green.

“Relax!” Bucky’s voice cut through the wind, calm and steady. “This is skydiving, Y/N!”

You squeezed your eyes shut, clutching at the straps holding you to him. “This is terrifying!” you yelled back, your voice shaky.

“Open your eyes!” he said, his tone softening. “Look around.”

Tentatively, you did. The endless expanse of sky stretched in every direction, the sun casting a golden glow over the clouds. It was breathtaking. The fear ebbed away, replaced by a quiet awe. The wind carried you like a whisper, and for a moment, it felt like freedom.

“It’s beautiful,” you murmured, your voice barely audible over the wind.

Bucky smiled, though you couldn’t see it. “Told you.”

Moments later, he deployed the parachute. The sudden jolt made you gasp, but then everything slowed. You floated gently toward the earth, the view below growing clearer with every passing second.

When your feet finally touched the ground, you stumbled a bit, your legs still shaky. Bucky steadied you, his hands firm on your arms.

“That was cool, wasn’t it?” he asked, his grin boyish and triumphant.

You glared at him, your chest heaving. Then, without warning, you shoved him hard. “You jerk! You scared me to death!”

Bucky chuckled, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “What? You survived, didn’t you?”

“You didn’t even warn me!” You jabbed a finger into his chest, which he didn’t even flinch at.

“Hey, I did tell you I was certified,” he said, still grinning.

“Certified idiot, maybe!” you shot back, crossing your arms.

He laughed at that, leaning closer. “But you had fun, admit it.”

“Fun isn’t the word I’d use!” you said, but the corners of your lips betrayed a small smile.

“You’re welcome,” he said smugly, clearly enjoying himself.

Before you could respond, a sharp voice cut through the air. “Y/N!”

Both of you froze mid-banter, turning toward the source of the voice. Your eyes widened as you saw a familiar figure storming toward you.

“Clark?” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Clark didn’t stop. His face was a storm of fury, his fists clenched at his sides. Without hesitation, he swung, landing a punch squarely on Bucky’s jaw.

Bucky staggered back but caught himself quickly, his head snapping toward Clark with a cold, steely glare. His tongue darted out to swipe at the corner of his mouth, checking for blood.

“Nice to meet you too,” Bucky said, his voice low and sardonic.

🔔💍🔔💍

Present Day

“Oh my God! He hit you?” Jade exclaimed, her eyes wide as she leaned forward in disbelief.

“Yeah.” Bucky shrugged nonchalantly, rubbing his jaw as if recalling the punch. A faint smirk tugged at his lips. “I let him have that one.”

Jade tilted her head, her expression skeptical. “Then what happened? Did Mom follow him?”

Bucky leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. His gaze grew distant for a moment, as though replaying the memory. Finally, he met Jade’s eyes, his smirk widening.

“Well… that’s the end part of the story,” he said, his tone teasing, leaving her hanging on the edge of her seat.

Jade groaned, throwing her hands in the air. “Seriously, Dad?”

Author's Note:

What kind of wedding dress do you think she wore? Everyone reading this might picture something different. Share your ideas with Pinterest photos! 😊

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[grandlinedreams]

|| i regret nothing I need Cooper Howard viscerally both pre and post Ghoulification

|| notes: semi Canon compliant, spoiler-ish for end of s1, semi-shifting pov, Lucy is adorable but baby girl you will be chewed up and spat out pls grow more spine, Dogmeat has never done anything wrong ever, godbless Cooper having a southern accent bc that's my accent, yeah, gonna do a sequel to this and a prequel on Coop and reader's first meeting, ok bye

|| warnings: weapons supplier!reader, couple of allusions to cannibalism, reader is not specifically gendered, NSFW ㅡ fingering/touching

“Where are we going?”

Not for the first time today, or even the last week, Cooper questions why he's letting the Vaultie (“Lucy,” she informs him primly, “my name is Lucy.”) tag along. The dog, at least, is a good, reliable companion. Dogmeat trots dutifully at his side, her tail wagging as he stops to glare at Lucy.

“Supplies, Vaultie,” he tells her, relishes the flicker of annoyance in her eyes. “Need supplies or we'll both be knee deep in shit.” He pauses. “More than we already are.” 

She mumbles something he doesn't care to catch as he resumes walking, rolling his eyes as he adjusts his hat. He knows he could stand to be a little more sympathetic with the bombshell she's still dealing with, but he can't bring himself to ㅡ not when his daughter might still be alive out there, somewhere. (And his ex-wife, who he's pointedly trying to not think about too much.) 

Lucy is blessedly quiet for a good while, all the way until they get closer to where they're going. Cooper doesn't need that piece of shit vault-tec device on her arm to know where he is, but Lucy says it anyways.

“It's a town,” she mumbles at the cluster of ramshackle buildings, surrounded by the clustering of trees so much like Filly ㅡ but isn't. “Is thisㅡ”

“Yes,” he answers, “now shut it and walk.”

Lucy huffs. “I don't know if you've realized neither of us have means to pay for anything,” she protests, “but the general rule ofㅡ” 

“Vaultie.” If looks could kill, she'd be six feet under. He's never had much patience, but she’s already reached the bottom of it and keeps digging. “Shut the fuck up about your goddamn rules. If you haven't noticed, nobody up here gives a damn about playing by what's wrong and what's right.” He gives her a meaningful look. “Now if you don't want me to leave your ass to whatever comes along next, you'll be quiet and let me handle it.” 

Lucy's mouth shuts with an audible click, and Cooper turns on his heel to resume walking, Dogmeat at his heels. 

Like Filly, the center of buildings bustle with the day to day of so many others, the cacophony of animal sounds along with chatter ㅡ Cooper spares Lucy a brief glance to watch her struggle to keep up and scoffs to himself, shaking his head as he continues.

He knows where he's going, a little shop shoved between two others, narrow but deeper than the other two, because he's been here before. Several times, actually. Which accounts for the familiarity with which he strolls over the threshold and leaves Lucy and Dogmeat to follow. 

There's the jingle of what might be a bell over Lucy's head when she follows, blinking at the interior. Neat and tidy, or at least as much as can pass for such things on the surface ㅡ rows of weapons and other assorted things on shelves and stands. 

Lucy watches The Ghoul rap his fist on the counter. “I know you're here,” he calls, “you never leave this damn place!”

She expects whoever it is to come scuttling out with the tone of voice he uses and being as accustomed to his rougher attitude, and she listens to the clatter of something further in the shop.

“If that's your greeting nowadays,” comes the answer, “you can fuck off.” 

To Lucy’s surprise, The Ghoul husks a laugh instead of offering another threat. Footsteps approach, and Lucy blinks at the person who rounds the corner. 

“You,” you accuse, finger almost into his chest, “thought I told you I was done dealing with you if you couldn't work on your manners.” 

Lucy stares, and watches as you turn towards her and raise an eyebrow, eyeing her with unrestrained curiosity, then at Dogmeat. “A vaultie and a dog,” you say, then glance back at The Ghoul. “So, taking in strays, huh?”

The Ghoul grimaces. “Guess so.” He clears his throat. “Need supplies again, sweetheart.”

“Figured as much,” you say, arms folding across your chest. Lucy decides she likes you, because you're standing up to him ㅡ and he's letting you. “Take it you have no way of paying, again.”

Lucy wants to tell The Ghoul I told you so, because he can shit on all her little rules all he likes but the surface still deals in keeping the scales balanced. You have to eat too, so it's fair that you're expecting payment in the nonexistent caps they have. The Ghoul, on the other hand, tries a different route. 

“Oh come on now sugar,” The Ghoul wheedles, tone almost what could be considered as sweet. Playing at a gentleman for the way he leans against the cobbled together counter, even goes as far as to take his hat off and place it down. “Don't be like that.”

“Don't you sugar me,” you counter with an attitude that honestly startles Lucy for both the lack of genuine bite or answering hostility from The Ghoul. This isn't the first time you've met, she realizes, and is also quietly a little horrified to register that this almost sounds like flirting. “You're a pain in the ass, you know that?”

The Ghoul almost grins. “At least I'm consistent. Besides, you know you miss me when I'm gone.” 

You snort, pressing your lips together to hide a smile. Lucy feels a tiny bit uncomfortable with the atmosphere, like she's watching something she shouldn't be privy to. 

“Yeah, yeah,” you answer, bustling around to shove several fabric wrapped packs into his chest and giving him a meaningful look. “You owe me.” 

It's definitely flirting now, Lucy notes as The Ghoul's face lights up in a way that's still entirely human, tracking your movements with something far softer than anything she's ever seen from him. 

The turn towards her and head jerk to her and Dogmeat is as clear as dismissal as she's ever seen, to make herself scarce ㅡ so she does, but not before she catches the peripheral glimpse of the way you let him reach for you, almost melting into him for the way he moves to undoubtedly murmur something. 

That something is not the sweet words of a long time lover, but it's probably about as close as you're going to get with things the way they are.

 

“Anyone causin’ you trouble lately?” 

You roll your eyes. “Besides you?” He gives you a look, and you shake your head. “No, and even if there was, you know I can handle myself.” You turn to throw him a teasing look over your shoulder. “Don't tell me you're getting soft on me, old man.” 

It's Cooper's turn to snort, even as he moves to follow you. There's a sort of peace to watching you sort through boxes of shell casings and bottles of powder, letting his gaze drift over your body. 

When you turn, he doesn't even bother to hide the way he's watching you, and you arch an eyebrow. “What?”

“Nothin’,” he returns. “Can't I admire you?”

You roll your eyes. “I'm too expensive for you, Cooper.” It's a playful taunt, one that incites a little flare of something in his eyes as he approaches, the jingle of his spurs as he comes to loom over you, cages you in against the shelves of “inventory”. 

“Really now,” he drawls, leans in, eyes predatory dark. A lifetime ago, you might have been scared. But the wastelands made no qualms about beating fear out of people just as quick as it snuffed out life all together. “Here I was thinkin’ I might get a discount.” He reaches, thumbs at your bottom lip with his gloved digit. “What's the askin’ price, sweetheart?” 

This close, he smells like the wastelands and sunbaked leather, with a little bit of blood ㅡ but you don't mind. Never have, not sure you ever will. Not when it comes to him, anyways.

He's a dangerous man. A man with a reputation that's well-earned, spoken in hushed whispers and anything but nice. But you let him slot a leg between yours, lean in, press his lips to your hair. You smell like gunpowder and hot metal, grease stained fingertips and more than a couple bruises and scars for your efforts. 

Sometimes Cooper contends with the idea he might need you just as much as he needs that chem that keeps him sane. Admits it here and there, quietly to himself when he wanders in, squashes it down that he makes the trips sometimes just to make sure you're still alive. Not like he'd know if you were, till he sees you. Not sure what he'd do if he someday came up and found you gone. No note, no goodbye ㅡ quick and quiet, the cruelty of the wastelands.  

“Didn't answer my question, darlin’.” He mumbles, lips to your cheeks now. Soft skin, kept carefully with rationed doses of radaway and a healthy heap of keeping your cute little self out of business that doesn't involve you. “Come on, I asked you real nicely.” 

You hook your fingers in the loops of his belt, pull him closer. He can feel the jump of your heartbeat under his lips, now at your jawline. A soft, shaky inhale. Selfishly, he wants to keep you. Steal you away, greedy to keep you for himself. Hates the idea of whatever scum that rolls in that you have to deal with on your own. You can handle yourself, he knows that. 

Doesn't stop that little piece of him that's still truly Cooper Howard from worrying. But he knows better than to think he can protect you, because he can't. So he does what he can.

Your skin is soft under his teeth, forgiving to the nip of them, the blooming blossom of pink that reminds him of strawberries. The noise you make is just as sweet, and he wonders if you'd taste like that, too. 

“I'm waiting,” he prompts between little nips, mouth curving against your flesh when you grip at him tighter. There's a lot he could do to you, and not a lot you wouldn't let him. “Don't tell me this big ol’ cat’s got your tongue, little songbird.” 

Your lips part, and he expects either a sparky response or a soft plea for what this is tilting towards, partaking of something far softer than anything he's used to nowadays ㅡ  but you’ve always had a taste for throwing him for a loop, and you do it now. 

“Take me with you.” 

That snaps him out of his little hazy, touch-greedy daze, enough that he pulls away to look at you properly. “Repeat that?”

“You heard me.” You tug at the loops of his belt, eyes steely, expression firm. “Take me with you. Tired of this shitty little outpost. Figure it's time to move before I get myself into trouble I can't get out of.”

Cooper laughs. “Think you're runnin’ straight into that fire by askin’ what you're askin’, sweet thing.” A warning and a plea, mixed mish-mash in his words. Part of him wants you to stay here. Concrete, much as it can be, where he knows where you are. Other part says it'd be easier to watch your back if he saw it all the time. 

“That's not an answer, Cooper.” 

He snorts, softens at the edges again, a little sadder as he reaches to stroke your jawline, leans to bump his forehead to yours ㅡ radiation warm against radaway cold. “Wanna make sure you know what you're asking for, darlin’. I ain't your babysitter. Got my own shit to do.”

“I know.” There's that fire in your voice, the kind he loves and hates at the same time. “Wasn't asking for you to babysit me.” 

He swallows roughly. Lets his hands drift up your sides, tug at the tuck of your shirt, underneath to drag sun-worn leather against the soft skin of your abdomen. Relishes the way you shiver, leaning into his touch. “Can't promise nothin’, you know that.” 

Your smile promises the same kind of heartbreak his own words do, the kind rooted in the reality that the world doesn't deal in any absolute but death, and sure as shit won't give happy endings. Not anymore. “I know.” 

Cooper can't think of what to say to that, at least anything he's ready to, so he kisses you. Your lips are too soft against his, the warmth of your mouth reigniting that greedy, needy, human thing inside him. He pulls, digs his fingers into your soft, pliant skin, and he takes.

Takes what you willingly give him, hand over hand with nothing but that pretty little smile of yours. He muffles your gasp as he wedges his leg a little firmer, coaxes the part of your legs with a rough husk of, “just like that, dollface,” and delights too much in the sound of you moaning for him.

Hushed, quiet enough that there's no reason for Dogmeat or Lucy to come back yet (he doesn't know what they're up to nor does he really fuckin’ care at the moment), he lets himself indulge in the pleasure of your body against his. The sweet little sounds, half-gasped as he mouths at your neck, hitched to something almost like music as his hands wander. 

Pauses long enough to bite at the tip of his glove and tug, one then two, the bare, radiation scarred wander of his fingers over your body. It's selfish, the way he covets every little twitch and jump of your muscles, the choked gasp as he guides you into rocking against his leg. 

“You're so sweet for me, sugar,” he coos, syrupy as he picks you apart meticulously, piece by piece. Fingers still far too good at what they do when he replaces his leg with the press of them against you, remnants of a past life for how well he gets you to whimper his name. “Like ambrosia.” 

His fingers stroke, deceptively gentle, working over your slick, too-hot, achy skin until you’re panting and gripping at him, pleading for a relief only he can give you. And that’s exactly how he wants you, where all you can see and think of is him. 

The expression you make when he finally lets you come might truly be the most beautiful thing he’s seen in a very long time. Headier than the Jet, dizzying and making him swear as he jerks his clothed hips against yours, breath sharp in his chest. 

“Gonna be the death of me, I swear.” He bites at your neck, digs a little harder, scrapes his canines into your sweet, yielding flesh. He could devour you, take bite after sweet, sweet bite and actually test that theory about the strawberries. Crack the cage of your rib, feast on that beating yolk of heart that thumps so hard in your chest. 

“Gonna let me do it, sweet thing?” He rumbles against your ear. “Let me have it all?” 

Your eyes flash, lips pretty and swollen as they part to answer ㅡ and the bark of that damn mutt ruins it all. At least it's a warning for you both, because he's stepping back and letting you fix yourself with surprising speed as Lucy and Dogmeat return, an expectant look on the fuckin’ vaultie's face. 

“Well? Got what you need?"

Cooper snorts, tracks you instead of answering as you press your hand to his for a second, gone around the corner. Lucy frowns when you return, pistol strapped at your hip and a bandolier slung over your shoulder like his, broad pack strapped to your back. Like you planned for this.

And you did, he notes, but it hadn't been contingent on his agreement. Idly, he notes he never did answer you, not really. But he just hums, then turns towards Lucy, who looks between the two of you, confused. 

“Yeah,” he finally answers, “got what I need.”

[lxvsiick]

THE STARS ARE ALL ASLEEP | HAN TAESAN X READER

PAIRING: idol! han taesan x non!idol! fem! reader

SUMMARY: The loss and regret Taesan feels, trying to hold on to the memories of Y/n despite the pain

GENRE: angst, breakup, taesan is kinda an ass, imagine, short story

WORDCOUNT: 5.9k

A/N: ngl, did i procrastinate during my lecture to write this? yes . . . i wrote this after listening to 星星都睡了 by PPlin x Zhen Li -- I'm basically giving you guys song reccs to listen to -- the song is really good!... enjoy the story!

★🎸🎧⋆｡ °⋆

I can take care of myself, you don’t need to keep worrying about me.

I don’t smile anymore.

The clock on the wall ticked away the late hours of the evening as Y/n sat curled up on the couch, her legs tucked beneath her, staring blankly at the TV. She wasn’t really watching, her mind too preoccupied with the events of the day. Work had been a disaster. Her boss had been harsher than usual, throwing out unreasonable demands and critiques that left her feeling drained and upset.

She sighed, glancing at her phone. No messages from Taesan. It wasn’t unusual—he was busy, always on the go with rehearsals, interviews, and performances. Being a famous idol meant long hours and even longer nights. Still, they shared this apartment, and she always tried to stay awake to talk to him when he came home.

Her heart lifted slightly when she heard the soft jingle of keys at the door. The lock clicked, and Taesan stepped inside, his hood pulled low over his face, slumping with exhaustion as he kicked off his shoes. He barely glanced in her direction as he made his way into the living room.

She straightened up on the couch, hoping for just a moment of his attention. “Hey, you’re home,” she greeted softly, forcing a small smile. “How was your day?”

“Long,” he muttered, not meeting her eyes as he walked past, heading straight for the kitchen to grab a drink. His tone was flat, his movements sluggish.

Y/n watched him, her heart sinking. “I had the worst day today,” she said, trying again to start a conversation. “My boss was being such a—”

“Not now,” he interrupted, his voice edged with weariness as he leaned against the counter, rubbing his temples. “I’m tired. I don’t want to talk.”

She froze, the words hanging in the air between them, heavier than she expected. She had been waiting all day to tell him about what happened, hoping he would listen, hoping she could find some comfort in his presence. But his dismissal felt like a slap to the face.

Her throat tightened as she swallowed her emotions. “Oh,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Okay.”

The silence stretched out uncomfortably as Taesan took a sip of his drink, still not looking at her. She tried to keep her disappointment from showing, but it was too late. The lump in her throat made it hard to speak, and the weight of the day, combined with his coldness, felt suffocating.

She stood up quietly, wrapping her arms around herself as if to shield against the sudden chill between them. “I’ll... leave you alone, then,” she murmured, backing away toward the bedroom. She didn’t wait for his response. He didn’t offer one.

As she turned, her steps slow and deliberate, her heart ached. This wasn’t how she imagined the night going. She had wanted to vent, to share her frustrations with the one person who mattered most to her. But now, she felt more alone than she had all day.

When she closed the bedroom door behind her, the click sounded louder than usual in the quiet apartment. She sat on the edge of the bed, staring at her hands, wondering if he even noticed how much she needed him right now.

Back in the living room, Taesan let out a deep sigh, closing his eyes as the weight of the day pressed down on him. He hadn’t meant to be so cold, but he was just too tired. Too tired to think, to listen, to be anything but worn out.

But in the silence that followed, something gnawed at him—a faint sense of guilt that he couldn’t quite shake, knowing she had wanted to talk, knowing she had needed him.

And he hadn’t been there.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

I don’t want to think about you all the time.

We tried our hardest to hurt everything between us, and now it’s impossible to repair.

The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm, orange glow over the city streets. Y/n sat on the bench at the bus stop, nervously checking her phone for what felt like the hundredth time. Her heart was filled with a mixture of excitement and impatience—today was supposed to be special. Their anniversary.

Taesan had promised to take her on a date after his interview, a rare moment in their hectic lives where they could celebrate together. She’d dressed up, her heart racing with anticipation, hoping for some time alone with him. But now, as the minutes dragged on, she couldn’t help but feel the growing sense of unease.

She scrolled through her phone again, the unanswered messages staring back at her: "Hey, interview over yet?" "Are you still coming?" "Let me know if you're running late."

No response. No calls. Nothing.

She sighed, biting her lip and glancing down the empty street. The buses came and went, passengers getting on and off, but there was still no sign of him. Her excitement slowly deflated into something more like dread.

A cold breeze picked up, and she pulled her jacket tighter around her. She couldn’t shake the feeling of being stood up, but that couldn’t be true, right? He wouldn’t just forget their anniversary. He wouldn’t break his promise to her.

In an attempt to distract herself, she opened her social media, scrolling absentmindedly through the feed. That’s when she saw it—a post from a fan page featuring Taesan and his group at some event. There he was, smiling and laughing with his bandmates, dressed in an outfit far too formal for just an interview.

Her heart sank. The caption beneath the photo read, "Surprise appearance at the event! BOYNEXTDOOR looking dashing as always."

She stared at the screen, the image of him so happy, so carefree. She felt a knot twist in her chest, anger and sadness mixing together. He wasn’t just late—he had gone somewhere else entirely, without even telling her. He had time for an event but not for their anniversary.

Her fingers hovered over the phone, wanting to call him again, but she knew it wouldn’t change anything. He wasn’t coming.

With a heavy sigh, she stood up, her heart feeling heavier than her feet as she trudged back toward their apartment. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, but she ignored it, knowing it wasn’t from him.

The walk back felt longer than usual, her mind replaying the excitement she’d felt that morning—how she’d looked forward to tonight, how she’d thought this anniversary would be a rare moment where they could be like any other couple. But instead, she was left alone, walking home in the dim light, her hands stuffed in her pockets to keep warm.

Finally, she reached the front door of their apartment building. Pausing for a moment, she glanced back at the empty street, a small part of her still hoping to see him running toward her, apologizing for being late. But the street remained empty, quiet, just like the unanswered messages on her phone.

With a deep breath, she entered the building and climbed the stairs to their apartment. As she unlocked the door and stepped inside, the stillness of the apartment felt colder than the air outside. No flowers, no candles, no sign that today was any different from any other day.

She sank onto the couch, staring blankly at the wall, the weight of disappointment settling in her chest like a stone. All she wanted was to be with him, to feel like she mattered, like they mattered. But tonight, she felt more alone than ever.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

You never cared about trying to get my forgiveness.

Don’t let us be covered in scars.

The apartment was quiet, save for the soft hum of the city outside. Y/n sat on the couch, her knees pulled to her chest, hugging a small black cat stuffed animal that Taesan had won for her on one of their early dates. Her eyes were red-rimmed, tears brimming but not falling. She stared blankly at her phone, an article open on the screen, the words blurring in front of her.

The jingle of keys at the door signaled his arrival. The door creaked open, and Taesan stepped in, exhaustion heavy in his posture. He looked worn from the day, his hair disheveled, still in his stage clothes. He let out a deep sigh as he kicked off his shoes, glancing toward her, not immediately noticing the tension in the air.

"Hey," he mumbled, running a hand through his hair. "I'm home."

Y/n didn’t respond, her gaze locked on him, her lips pressed into a thin line as she clutched the stuffed animal tighter. Her chest ached with the weight of everything unsaid.

He finally noticed her silence, his eyes narrowing in concern. "What’s wrong?" he asked, his voice more annoyed than gentle. He was too tired for this—whatever this was.

She didn’t speak at first, just held out her phone toward him, the screen illuminating her tear-filled eyes. He frowned, walking over to take it from her hand. When he looked at the screen, his expression immediately shifted.

It was a news article—another baseless rumor. His name splashed across the headline alongside another female idol, the two of them speculated to be in a relationship. There were photos from a backstage event, carefully cropped and captioned to imply intimacy where none existed.

He groaned, already dreading the conversation. "You’ve got to be kidding me," he muttered under his breath, tossing the phone onto the coffee table.

"Is this why you’re never around anymore?" Y/n finally spoke, her voice small but laced with hurt. Her eyes, shining with unshed tears, held a mixture of frustration, sadness, and fear. "Because of her?"

His jaw clenched, frustration quickly overtaking his fatigue. "What? No. It’s just a rumor," he snapped, throwing his hands up. "You really believe that crap? I told you not to pay attention to those things."

"But you’re never here anymore!" Her voice cracked as she stood up, still hugging the stuffed cat to her chest. "You’re always too busy, too tired, or too... distant. And then I see this and—" She broke off, shaking her head, tears spilling over now. "How am I supposed to feel? Am I supposed to just ignore it when you’re gone all the time?"

"I’m working!" he fired back, the anger rising in his chest. "I’m busting my ass for this career, for us—but you’re here, worried about some stupid tabloid story? Where’s the trust?"

"Trust?" she repeated, incredulous. "How can I trust you when you don’t even talk to me anymore? When you don’t make time for me at all? Do you even care about this relationship?"

Her words cut deep, but his frustration was too overwhelming to process the hurt beneath them. "Of course I care! But you’re suffocating me with all these doubts. Every time I come home, it’s something like this. You worry too much."

"I worry because I care!" Her voice broke, raw with emotion. "Because I love you, and I feel like I’m losing you—like you’re slipping away and I can’t do anything about it."

The silence that followed was deafening. They stood there, staring at each other, both breathing heavily from the intensity of the argument.

Taesan rubbed his temples, his voice lowering but still tense. "This is ridiculous. It’s just a rumor. I’m tired, and I don’t want to do this right now."

"You never want to do this," she whispered, her voice barely audible. She wiped her tears with the back of her hand, her chest heaving as she tried to control the sobs threatening to spill over. "Fine."

With a quiet, bitter laugh, she turned and walked toward their bedroom. "I’m done with this conversation. Go sleep at your dorm or wherever it is you’d rather be."

His eyes followed her as she disappeared down the hallway, her door closing softly behind her, though the emotional slam still reverberated through him.

He stood there for a long moment, his anger simmering down into guilt, exhaustion pulling at him from all sides. He didn’t want to fight, but it always seemed to end up this way. They always ended up like this—torn apart by his career, by misunderstandings, by everything he didn’t have time to fix.

With a heavy sigh, Taesan grabbed his jacket and keys, heading back toward the door. The silence of the apartment felt unbearable now.

As he stepped out into the cold night air, he shoved his hands into his pockets and walked toward his group’s dorm, his mind filled with everything left unsaid, wondering how they had come to this.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

When the stars in the sky all sleep, I feel so dark, my body feels inexplicably cold

The night air was heavy, thick with a silence that seemed to press down on everything. The small park near their apartment was a place once filled with memories—their late-night walks, quiet conversations, stolen moments—but now it felt distant, like something from another lifetime.

Taesan stood at the edge of the path, hands shoved deep into his pockets, his breath visible in the cool air. He hadn’t been back here in weeks, not since he’d started staying at his group’s dorm. It felt strange now, almost foreign.

His eyes shifted as he saw Y/n approaching slowly from the other side of the park. His heart clenched at the sight of her, though he couldn’t quite place why. She looked…different. Her face was pale, her eyes hollow, the dark bags beneath them evident even in the dim light. The spark, the warmth he always loved in her eyes, was gone. She looked like someone who had been carrying the weight of the world for too long.

She stopped a few steps away from him, the space between them feeling like a chasm.

“What did you want to talk about?” he asked, his voice quiet but carrying an edge of tension. He already had a sinking feeling in his chest, but he wasn’t ready to confront it.

Y/n looked at him for a long moment, her lips parting as if to speak, but no words came out at first. She shifted her weight, wrapping her arms around herself like she was trying to hold herself together.

"I’m tired," she finally said, her voice flat, void of emotion. "I’m tired of waiting for you. Of waiting for us to feel like it used to." Her eyes met his, and the emptiness in them hit him like a punch to the gut. "I can’t keep doing this."

His heart stuttered in his chest, but he didn’t say anything. He just stared at her, trying to process her words, hoping this wasn’t what he thought it was.

“I’m done,” she continued, her voice firmer this time, as if she had rehearsed these words over and over in her head before finally saying them. “I don’t want to have to keep waiting on you, waiting for something to change. I feel like I’m always waiting.”

The silence between them was unbearable now, but he couldn’t find the right words to say. His throat felt tight, like any response he tried to form would only come out broken.

She wasn’t crying—there were no tears. She wasn’t angry. Just…done. It made it worse somehow. He would’ve preferred her to scream at him, to be angry, to throw something, but this quiet resignation was shattering him in a way he hadn’t expected.

“You’re not the same,” she whispered, her voice barely audible but sharp enough to cut through the air between them. "I don’t recognize you anymore. And I know you’re tired too. Tired of me, of this... You don’t need to say it. I can see it every time you walk out the door and don’t come back until late or not at all."

He wanted to protest, to tell her she was wrong, that things could be different, but the words wouldn’t come. Maybe because a part of him knew she was right. He hadn’t been present—not really. His career had consumed him, and in the process, he had let her slip away. He let them slip away.

She let out a shaky breath, her eyes momentarily glancing down at the ground before meeting his gaze again. "I loved you," she said softly. "I still do, but I can’t keep holding onto something that’s already gone."

His chest tightened painfully, and he took a small step forward, as if to reach for her, but stopped himself. He didn’t know how to fix this. He didn’t even know if he could.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, though it was unclear if she was apologizing to him or to herself.

And then, she turned around, her figure illuminated only by the faint glow of the park’s streetlights. She didn’t run. She didn’t storm off. She just walked away, her back to him, her shoulders slightly hunched as if the weight of everything was too much to bear.

He stood there, frozen in place, his heart breaking with every step she took. His mouth opened, but no words came out. He could only watch as she walked further and further away, her silhouette fading into the distance until she was nothing more than a distant memory in the night.

The cold settled into his bones, but he didn’t move. He couldn’t. He felt numb, like everything inside him had shattered and there was nothing left but the aching emptiness where she used to be. The night stretched on, and the only sound that filled the silence was the faint rustling of leaves in the wind, as the world around him continued on, unaware that his had just fallen apart.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

I don’t need the hottest and best car.

I don’t need to be the best pop star.

I want to express myself, but I messed up.

What’s there to lose! My heart’s already half empty.

The studio’s lights were harsh, reflecting off the mirrors that lined the walls. The steady beat of the music thumped through the room, filling the space with energy, but Taesan’s movements felt sluggish, disconnected from the rhythm. He was usually so precise, so in sync with the choreography, but today he couldn’t seem to get it right.

"Again," the instructor called out, clapping their hands sharply, frustration seeping into their voice. "You’re off, Taesan. Focus."

He nodded, wiping the sweat from his brow, though it felt like the sweat wasn’t the problem—it was the weight pressing on his chest. They started the routine again, but halfway through, his steps faltered. His foot missed the mark, his body off-beat. He felt his group members glance at him in concern, but he kept his head down, trying to push through.

"Stop!" the instructor barked, cutting the music abruptly. "Take five. Taesan, get it together."

He didn’t respond, just stood there, panting, his hands on his knees. The others slowly moved to the sides of the room to grab water or stretch. Taesan didn’t move. His mind was spinning, but not about the dance. His thoughts kept drifting to her—Y/n. The look on her face when she walked away, the sound of her voice when she said she was done, the quiet resignation in her eyes. It haunted him.

It was all he could think about.

He pressed his palms against his eyes, trying to clear his head, but it was no use. The more he tried to shake it off, the more the memories flooded back. The last argument, the tension that had been building for months, how he had shrugged her off when she needed him most.

“Hey, man. You good?” Jaehyun asked, cautiously approaching him with a bottle of water in hand.

Taesan shook his head slightly, forcing a deep breath. “I’m fine,” he muttered, though the tightness in his voice said otherwise.

“You’re not,” Leehan said bluntly, walking over with the rest of the group. "You’ve been off all day. What’s going on?"

He opened his mouth to respond with something dismissive, something to brush them off like he always did when things got too personal, but this time, he couldn’t. His chest ached too much. The guilt, the regret—it was all bubbling up inside him, and he couldn’t keep it down any longer.

“I—” His voice cracked, and he quickly looked away, swallowing hard. He hated this. Hated feeling this vulnerable, especially in front of them.

His group members exchanged glances, clearly worried.

“I miss her,” he finally whispered, barely audible.

“What?” Riwoo leaned in closer, frowning.

“I miss her,” he repeated, louder this time, though his voice wavered. “I miss Y/n… so much.”

The room fell into a heavy silence, the usual energy drained as his words settled in.

“I screwed up,” he said, his hands trembling slightly as he raked them through his hair. “I didn’t realize what I had until she was gone. And now—” He paused, his throat tightening, the memories of their breakup flashing in his mind. “Now it’s too late. I hurt her, I wasn’t there when she needed me, and she left. I don’t blame her.”

His eyes burned, but he refused to let the tears fall. Not here. Not in front of them.

“I regret everything,” he admitted, his voice strained, raw. “Everything that led to us falling apart. I pushed her away, I was so wrapped up in my own life that I didn’t see how much I was losing her.” His hand clenched into a fist. "I thought I could balance everything, but… I couldn’t. I failed her.”

His group members stood in stunned silence. Taesan was always the one who kept things together, the one who didn’t let his emotions get the better of him. Seeing him like this, so vulnerable, so broken, was a shock.

“I don’t know how to fix it,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper now. “I don’t think I can. She’s done with me, and I can’t blame her. I’ve been a terrible boyfriend… and a terrible person.”

Sungho stepped closer, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, man, don’t say that.”

“It’s the truth,” he said bitterly, looking down at the floor. “I still love her. I never stopped. But she’s gone, and it’s all my fault.”

“You’re human, Taesan hyung,” Woonhak said, his tone gentle. “People make mistakes.”

“Not like this,” Taesan muttered, shaking his head. “She waited for me. She was patient, and I took her for granted. I should’ve been there for her.”

His group members shared worried glances, unsure of what to say. They had never seen him like this—so lost, so regretful.

“It’s not too late,” Jaehyun offered hesitantly. “You can still reach out to her, talk to her—”

“She’s done with me,” Taesan interrupted, his voice flat. “She said she’s tired of waiting, and I can’t blame her. I would’ve left me too.”

He slumped down onto the floor, leaning against the mirrored wall, his head in his hands. The silence stretched on for what felt like forever, the only sound being the faint hum of the air conditioning in the studio.

His group members sat down around him, unsure of how to help, but unwilling to leave him alone. They could see how much pain he was in, and it hurt to see their usually composed, confident friend in pieces like this.

“I’m sorry,” Taesan whispered again, more to himself than anyone else. "I’m so sorry, Y/n."

And for the first time in a long time, he let the tears fall.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

Through the whole night, you’re no longer in my sight.

Maybe everyone feels the same, but time goes by too fast.

The air backstage was charged with excitement, a low hum of activity as the staff rushed around making final preparations. Taesan sat quietly in a corner, his hands resting on his lap, staring at the floor as the muffled cheers of the crowd reached his ears. The energy of the arena was palpable, but inside, he felt a familiar weight pressing down on his chest.

It had been a few months since the breakup. Since the day she’d said she was done. He hadn’t realized how hard it would hit him—how much he’d miss her. Even now, the thought of her still tugged at his heart, the hurt still raw even though time had passed.

"Taesan, you good?" Sungho asked, breaking through his thoughts as they finished a huddle nearby.

He glanced up, forcing a small smile. "Yeah, I’m fine."

They’d asked him that a lot lately, and every time he said the same thing. He had to be fine. He had no other choice. Being an idol meant putting on a perfect face, no matter what was going on behind the scenes. It was all part of the job, and he owed it to his fans to give them everything he had. But the truth was, no matter how much time passed, she never really left his mind.

A staff member approached, headset in place, clipboard in hand. "Five minutes until showtime."

His group gave a collective nod, standing up to stretch and prepare. Taesan rose to his feet, brushing off his outfit, and took a deep breath. He could feel the adrenaline starting to build, the anticipation of the stage waiting for him. This was his world now—his stage, his music, his fans. He had to focus on that.

But as his mind drifted back to her—her smile, the sound of her laugh, the way she used to wait up for him—his chest tightened again. The ache that hadn’t fully healed throbbed beneath the surface, a constant reminder of what he’d lost.

"Focus," he whispered to himself, closing his eyes for a moment. He couldn’t let this affect him now. Not here. Not when the world was watching.

The fans were already screaming, chanting their names, and he knew the second he stepped onto that stage, he had to be the idol they all adored—the one who smiled for them, who gave them his all, no matter what was happening in his personal life.

A deep breath. He opened his eyes as the staff gave the signal.

“It’s time,” one of his group members said, nudging him gently. "Let’s go."

He nodded, shaking off the last traces of his wandering thoughts. Putting on his best smile—the smile that had charmed millions—he stepped in line with his group as they prepared to walk onto the stage.

The music swelled through the speakers, and the moment the curtains parted, a wave of sound crashed over them. The roar of the crowd, the flashing lights, the sea of fans waving lightsticks—it was everything he’d worked for, everything he loved.

He couldn’t let them down.

As they walked out, the fans’ cheers grew louder, the energy electric. He felt it surge through him, pushing the heaviness of his emotions to the back of his mind. The stage was where he belonged, and for now, that had to be enough.

But even as he smiled, danced, and sang, giving his all to the performance, a part of him still carried her with him—her memory, her absence. He knew he had to move on, but it wasn’t that simple. She had been a part of him for so long, and the love he had for her didn’t just disappear. He was still learning how to live with that ache.

As the music thumped in his ears and the fans sang along to every word, he forced himself to be present, to let the performance carry him. But every now and then, between the beats, he could feel her shadow lingering in the back of his mind.

And when the concert was over, and the adrenaline faded, he knew she’d be there waiting in the back of his mind—just as she always had been.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

Finally, the wounds have scabbed over, but am I still thinking about it?

The room was dimly lit by the slivers of moonlight that slipped through the half-drawn blinds. The quiet hum of the air conditioner was the only sound breaking the silence of the night. Taesan lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling with a contemplative expression. The shadows cast by the moonlight danced across the walls, but his focus remained on the blank expanse above him.

He was in his shared dorm room with Woonhak, who was already fast asleep, snoring softly. Taesan had been lying awake for hours, his mind racing through thoughts he couldn’t seem to quiet.

It had been five months since the breakup. He had made significant progress—he wasn’t as heartbroken as he once was, and his days were filled with the busyness of his idol life. But despite all that, thoughts of Y/n still occupied a corner of his mind.

He wondered about her often. What was she doing now? Was she happier without him? Was she moving on with her life, creating new memories, and finding joy in things that didn’t include him? The questions lingered, and even though he tried to push them away, they always seemed to return.

He remembered their last conversation, the look in her eyes when she had ended things. It wasn’t anger or resentment but a calm, resolute sadness. He had always wished he could go back and fix things, do better, be the person she deserved.

Turning his head slightly, he glanced over at the small bedside clock—it was well past midnight. He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he shifted uncomfortably. The ache of missing her wasn’t as sharp as it once was, but it was still there, a gentle, persistent throb that reminded him of the love they had shared.

He recalled the little moments they had—walking in the park, sharing secrets, the way she used to laugh at his jokes, the sparkle in her eyes when she listened to his songs. Those memories were bittersweet now, tinged with the sadness of knowing that those times were in the past.

He wondered if she ever thought about him. Did she ever look back and remember the good times? Did she ever miss him, even just a little? The curiosity gnawed at him, but he didn’t have any answers. He had made the decision to give her space, to let her heal and move on, but it didn’t make the longing any easier.

He closed his eyes, imagining what it would be like to see her again, to talk to her, to hear her voice. He hoped that wherever she was, she was happy. He hoped she had found the peace and joy that they both deserved.

As he lay there, the weight of his thoughts became a little heavier. He had learned to live with the separation, to accept it as part of his journey, but that didn’t mean it was easy. The nights like these were the hardest—when the world was quiet, and the only thing he had was the memory of what once was.

Eventually, he forced himself to turn away from the ceiling, pulling the covers closer as he tried to settle into a more comfortable position. It was a futile attempt to silence his racing mind, but he knew that some things would take time to fully resolve.

For now, he would focus on his work, on the present, and try to hold onto the hope that things would get better. And maybe, just maybe, someday he would get the closure he needed. Until then, he would carry on, living his life while cherishing the memories of what they once had.

He finally drifted off to sleep, the thoughts of her slowly fading into the background, though never completely out of reach.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

I realize I can live without you, but I once decided to grow old with you.

How much loneliness and struggle remain pierced in my heart.

The crisp autumn air was cool against his skin as Taesan and his group members strolled down the street. Their faces were concealed behind masks and sunglasses, a necessary precaution to avoid being recognized. Despite their disguises, the atmosphere was relaxed, and they enjoyed the rare chance to go out incognito.

They chatted casually, their conversation punctuated by laughter as they approached a quaint café they had heard good things about. The cozy little place had a warm glow that contrasted with the chilly evening air.

As they reached the entrance, Taesan was the last to go inside. Just as he was about to cross the threshold, the door swung open and someone bumped into him.

Startled, he looked down, his heart skipping a beat when he saw who it was.

It was her. Y/n.

She looked different—brighter, happier. Her hair was shorter, framing her face in a way that seemed to enhance her natural beauty. And her eyes—those eyes that used to be so full of sadness—were now sparkling with a joy he hadn’t seen in a long time.

They locked eyes for a split second, and he felt a pang of something he couldn’t quite place—hope, regret, longing. He stood frozen, caught between the urge to speak and the overwhelming surge of emotions.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed, her voice warm and apologetic as she quickly stepped back. She didn’t seem to recognize him, her focus more on the minor collision than on the person she bumped into.

“No problem,” he managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper.

She flashed him a quick, polite smile before turning and walking away, her figure gradually diminishing as she moved down the street.

Taesan stood there, watching her retreat, his heart pounding. The moment felt surreal—seeing her like this, so changed, so content. It was as if the universe had given him one more chance to make things right, and he wasn’t sure if he should let it slip away.

“Hey, what’s taking you so long?” Riwoo called out from inside the café. “Let’s go!”

Still reeling from the encounter, Taesan snapped back to reality. He turned towards the café, where his friends waited, but something inside him urged him to follow her—to find out if this new version of her was truly as happy as she seemed.

Without a word, he pulled his mask and glasses off and turned on his heel, rushing out of the café. His group members called after him, confusion evident in their voices, but he ignored them, his focus entirely on the woman who had just walked away.

He sprinted down the street, glancing around, his heart racing as he searched for any sign of her. The sight of her figure, walking away with a spring in her step, seemed to guide him forward, pushing him to bridge the gap that had grown between them.

Every step felt heavy with anticipation, each breath a mix of excitement and anxiety. He didn’t know what he’d say or what he hoped to find, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was a chance he couldn’t let slip by.

Finally, he spotted her again, standing on the corner, waiting for a bus. With a deep breath, he approached, trying to steady his racing heart.

“Y/n!” he called out, trying to keep his voice calm and steady.

She turned, a look of surprise crossing her face as she recognized the urgency in his voice. Her eyes widened as they met his, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. Everything around them seemed to disappear and it was only them there. Y/n’s look of surprise turns into a smile, her sparkling eyes meeting him.

“Hi.”

★🎸🎧⋆｡ °⋆

PART TWO VER.1 -- VER.2 | MASTERLIST

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, lxvsiick, 2024

[cherry-burst]

Zayne x MC “Rest Easy” 

Love and Deepspace

Fluff/Smut | Hurt/Comfort | BJ | 4.8k Words

Zayne carefully clutched his side as he walked up to his front door. The motion sensor lights popped on, illuminating the path for him. Digging the keys out of his pocket, he let out a sharp hiss. The sound of the keys jingling might as well have been a cowbell, given how quiet he was trying to be. He carefully unlocked his door, the mechanisms in the lock slipping and clicking into place. A quick glance at his watch showed it was already 3 AM. 

As he entered, he quietly closed and locked the door behind him. The house was still. The large windows allowed the moon and starlight to spill through the gauzy curtains onto the floor illuminating just enough for him to navigate without needing to turn on any lights. He slipped off his shoes at the front door and shrugged off his jacket. He hissed again, holding the coat rack for support. After a moment, he pushed his glasses back up his nose and walked quietly toward the bedroom. 

He noticed a book on the armrest of his couch face down so the surface of the couch would work as a bookmark. A small glass of water was left on the coffee table next to an empty mug with strawberries decorating the rim. A smile touched his lips as he glanced around. 

It was the small things in his home that were different since his girlfriend had moved in. Seeing things littered here and there, not messy, but lived in, was one of his favorite things. His home finally felt alive and cozy. The kitchen was always full of staples, every surface was free of dust, and the bed was always warm when he lay next to her. She was the lifeblood of his home now. 

He still wasn’t home as often as he’d like, constantly picking up shifts at the hospital thanks to an uptick in wanderer activity. Not much had changed since she moved in, but he did intentionally take days off now just to spend more time with her. He always tried to come home at a reasonable hour, but tonight had many unexpected twists that not even a psychic could have predicted. 

Zayne made his way to his bedroom and quietly entered. The curtains were pinned open washing his girlfriend, who was sound asleep in the middle of the bed, with a gleam of light. His chest warmed at the sight, making a mental note to tease her as a bed hog in the morning as he quietly changed into comfortable sleepwear. 

Peeling the comforter up, Zayne calculated if he could fit in the small sliver of space she’d left him. He placed his glasses on the side table along with his phone as he tried to asses the space he had. With a sigh, he decided to give it a shot and lying beside her anyway, slowly made his way into bed. He made sure to keep his torso, which he was carefully holding, straight, and not bend toward his side. 

He debated on whether to wake her up or not, thinking up an apology as to why he was home so late. In the end, he needed to nudge her to get her to move just a few inches to the side anyway so his larger frame could fit comfortably on the mattress. She roused with a soft sigh.

“Zayne?” Her groggy voice was interrupted by a yawn. 

“Hey,” Zayne whispered back. “Sorry, I’m late… Something came up at the hospital and, …could you please move over just a bit? I can’t fit on my side when you’re hogging the entire center.”  

“You’re home” She smiled, her tired mind taking a few extra seconds to register what he said. “Oh! Sure.” 

Wiggling to her side of the bed, she gave Zayne plenty of room. He settled next to her with ease now that he had the space. She stretched her arms up, her back and shoulders popping as she yawned fiercely. Her nightshirt rode up to expose a sliver of her tummy and Zayne, without much thought, reached up and placed his hand on the exposed skin. She was warm against his palm. 

“I’m home, especially now that I’m here with you.” He allowed himself a small smile, the scent of her on his sheets already easing the noise in his mind. 

She hummed in agreement. “I missed you. I got worried and called the hospital, but they said you were staying late with a patient.” 

Zayne nodded, a part of him sending a thanks to that employee who hadn’t told her exactly what had happened tonight. That would have made his girlfriend worry too much. She would have worried for nothing, though. He was in good hands having already been at the hospital. 

He traced his fingers over her stomach, rubbing small circles. She sighed and then he sighed, feeling the drama of the night lift off his shoulders. 

“Go back to sleep,” Zayne whispered.

She groaned, “But you just got here… I want to hear about your day.” 

He hadn't had a chance to text or call her all day thanks to the outpouring of patients the hospital received. It was hard for him to even take a sip of water or stuff a granola bar in his mouth before another code was beeping over the speakers urgently calling for him.

He yawned, sleep already welcoming him into his warm embrace. “Sleep. Doctor’s orders.” 

His girlfriend scoffed, “Are you ever going to stop using that excuse? You told me that eating a third cupcake yesterday was doctor's orders as well.” 

“Well, it did make you happy, and happiness leads to wellness.” He closed his eyes, his voice groggy.

She took a deep breath and rolled over to face him. Zayne’s hand naturally slid to her back and pulled her closer without a second thought. 

She cupped his face, a kiss landing on the tip of his nose. Then she froze. “Your head?!” She gasped, her fingers grazing the edge of the butterfly grip just above his brow. “What happened?” The gash was about an inch long peaking out of the bandage. 

“Uh,” Zayne’s tired mind forgot the excuse he’d already carefully crafted on his way home and instead, he fumbled his words. “It’s nothing. Just a scratch.” 

“Zayne…” Her voice was more alert now. “They usually don't take time to seal up wounds that are ‘just a scratch’.”

She began to slide her hand down his arm and chest. Zayne winced when her hand grazed the side of his torso. His sharp intake of breath made her stop in her tracks.

“Zayne!” She said his name again, this time louder. 

He opened his eyes and stared at her half-lidded. “I had to get a couple of stitches. It’s not a big deal… just be gentle with that spot please.” 

His tone was strained as she pushed up his shirt to see. He let her, of course. But gauze covered a large expanse of his side making it hard for her to assess his injury. 

She conceded and let his shirt fall back down. “Why did you get stitches? What happened?” She cupped his cheeks with her hands. Zayne savored the sensations letting his eyes fall shut once again. 

He rooted around his brain for a good way to explain the situation that didn’t make it sound as bad as it actually was. He wondered if he could request that they talk about it in the morning, but he knew his girlfriend well, she worried about him and would need answers immediately. 

“I was… shhmmm” Zayne slurred purposefully. Okay, fine… there was no dancing around it, it was bad. 

“You were what?” She used her hands on his cheek to angle his face towards hers. 

“...” 

“Sorry, I didn’t catch that.” She said in a more stern voice. 

“I was stabbed.” He finally spoke.

“What!?” Her sudden exclamation made him jolt, causing him to gasp in pain again.

“By a patient,” He added, breathing through the ache. “They were on some sort of drug that caused them to become violent. He woke up while I was examining him and pulled a knife on me. It happened so fast…” He spoke, hardly believing it himself. 

The man had been unconscious when he got to the hospital and when he awoke, he sliced at Zayne and his nurse, successfully stabbing him once before his evol intervened, holding the crazed man back while Zayne and the nurse made their escape. Luckily, he was already at a hospital and had one of the other doctors patch him up before he left. 

She pulled up his shirt again, her fingers sliding over the edge of the gauze with newfound concern. The dressing just kept going up and up along his torso. “It’s huge…” Her voice wavering. 

“I know… It will be fine. I was given a few days off to recover.”

“You know!?” She asked. “Zayne, it’s turning purple around your ribs…” She ghosted her fingers over the discolored skin. 

“Pff!” Zayne let out a laugh wiggling away from her touch. 

“Zayne? Are you… giggling?” She looked at him in astonishment.

“Don’t do that,” He laughed again and moved her hand away from his stomach. 

“Are you drugged up?” 

For some reason that question made him giggle even more. He burst out laughing and she thought that it must have been a very potent painkiller setting in if he was this free with his emotions. 

He finally calmed down enough to answer her. “Just some minor pain medication.” 

“Minor…” She looked at him indignantly. “Don’t keep trying to downplay. How much did they give you? You’re positively loopy.”

“You just tickled me is all. Don’t- don’t do that again.” He could feel that his pupils had dilated, a side effect of the strong pain medication they’d given him. He looked up at her bathed in moonlight and sighed. She was “so beautiful.” He said out loud. 

“Oh jeez,” She smiled, shaking her head at him. “Your gauze is way larger than just a minor wound. Don’t you think?” She tried to put him back on topic. 

He nodded in agreement. 

“Zayne...” She let her head hang in defeat. 

He took this opportunity to sweep the hair off her face and press a lingering kiss to her forehead.

“I will be okay.” He reassured her, his warm breath flowing over her brow. 

“You need to get some sleep… Sleep off some of this medication that is making you loopy and allow your body to heal.” She toyed with his brown hair, moving it off his forehead to expose the butterfly bandage again. 

Zayne savored the sensation of her touch but ultimately agreed. “Let’s get some rest and spend the day together tomorrow.”

In agreement, his girlfriend pulled the covers up to engulf both of them in its warmth. She tangled her legs with his and rested her head on his chest, careful of his wound. Zayne’s hand ran up and down her back, soothing her to go to sleep. 

He didn’t feel the sharpness of the pain any longer. The medication worked to subdue the sensation but also made him extremely drowsy, or was it from working a double today? He felt a tiny peck of a kiss on his lips just before sleep overcame him. 

Several hours later, Zayne found himself trying to pull the covers up over his head to block the bright sun from shining directly into his bleary eyes. His watch indicated that it was only 7 AM, far too early to wake up on his day off. Four hours was not enough sleep after the exhausting double shift he had yesterday, plus, you know, getting stabbed. 

He tugged the covers harder and let out a pained hiss. Sharp jolts shot from his wound making him wince. He clutched his side, brows pinching together, pleading with his body to stop throbbing. His head swam with the rush of adrenaline his body flooded him with. The pain medication was no match for the deep stab wound. It was already fading from his system. 

“Are you okay?” His girlfriend roused from sleep.

“Hmm,” He nodded, but a new wave of pain made him flinch “Ah-”

“Zayne!” Worry clouded her tone. 

“I just need a moment..” He managed to speak. He really didn't want to worry her.

“Did you pull a stitch?” She moved the blanket and lifted his shirt to try and peek at the bandage. 

“No, I don’t think so. But I haven't moved in a while, so...” He inhaled sharply. He looked down at the gauze she was exposing. There were tiny droplets making their way through the bandage, but nothing to be concerned about. 

“Do you have more pain pills?” She covered her mouth to yawn. 

Zayne looked toward the bedroom door. “Yeah, there’s a prescription in my jacket pocket. It’s hanging on the coat rack in the entryway.”

“I’ll go grab them. Wait here.” She patted his arm before springing out of bed.

He saw the humor in her words, but couldn’t react beyond a pained groan. 

The throbbing was finally subsiding. He struggled a bit to reach over to the pinned curtains. Managing to grab them, he yanked until it fell closed, shrouding the room from the sun's harsh rays. Zayne relaxed back on the pillow with a long exhale. 

His girlfriend was back, pill bottle in one hand and a glass of water in the other. 

The sight of her opening the bottle to dispense a pill, worry etched into her face, made his heart soar. It was nice having someone fuss over him for once. He didn’t have to shoulder the mental load of getting better while she was around. He, of course, did the same thing for her when she was sick. It made a part of his mind light up, realizing that this was not a relationship to be taken lightly. There was something more here, something that ran deep like roots into the ground. It was something that neither of them would be able to easily untangle from even with immense effort. 

He plucked the pill from her palm and placed it on his tongue. He carefully leaned over and took a few gulps of water to down the pill. Birds began to chirp outside as the sun climbed higher. Zayne placed the ice cold water on the nightstand while his girlfriend slid back into bed with him. 

“Do you need anything else?” She asked him. 

“No. No, I’m good for now.”

“Try to go back to sleep,” She spoke softly, her hand pressing all around his face. 

“Thank you,” Zayne wondered what possessed her to always want to touch him. It was a nice feeling, to have someone show such blatant affection for you all the time. He tried his best to always reciprocate, even if they were in public he’d try to hold her hand even if social pressure made him feel anxious about it. 

She ran her fingers through his hair, and Zayne’s eyes grew heavy. He got comfortable and tried to allow sleep to overcome him once more. He listened to her slow, even breath as she settled into her usual cuddle spot by his side. He kept his eyes closed and wrapped his arm around her tightly. 

After laying there for what felt like hours, he realized he was unable to sleep. The medication was starting to do its job, rushing to where he needed it the most allowing his muscles to finally relax. It took the edge off just enough for him to take deeper and deeper breaths. But still, sleep did not come. He shifted his legs, hoping to move into a more comfortable position instead of being stalk straight on his back. 

“Are you still not asleep?” Her sleepy tone indicated that she had fallen into a light sleep within the last 30 minutes despite Zayne’s struggle with it.

“Sorry to wake you, I am just getting more comfortable.” Zayne shifted, angling himself on his good side. When the throbbing pain didn’t come, he relaxed into the position, facing her. 

“I’m worried about you…” She confessed, her sleepy eyes meeting his in the dim room. 

Zayne kissed the back of her hand then rubbed his palm along her back in reassurance. “No need to worry. I’ll be fine. I’m more worried about your sleep getting interrupted by me.” 

She shook her head to dispel his worry. “This isn’t about me. You were stabbed, for goodness sake, you are allowed to be selfish in this instance.” 

He let out a quiet chuckle and nodded. “Fine, I’ll be selfish Zayne from now on until I feel better.” 

“Good,” She squeezed his arm in agreement. 

He hummed, pressing his face closer to hers. “At least the medication is working. But…”

“But, you’re not tired…” She finished his sentence. 

He shook his head. “I am tired, but my mind feels awake right now.” It was his usual hour to get up for work, and he was used to running on only a couple hours of sleep at a time. It was hard to persuade his body to allow him a bit more rest. 

“What can I do?” She asked, lacing her fingers with his. Her hand was warm, and Zayne squeezed it in his grip.

“Nothing. Go to sleep. I will eventually fall asleep once the pain medication fully kicks in.” 

She sighed. “But it should already be kicking in and you’re no closer to falling asleep.” They lock eyes for a long moment. “I know you, Zayne.”

He nodded, of course, she knew him. No one else knew him as well as she did. It used to make him feel too exposed, but the more he got to know her better than anyone else, the more secure he felt in allowing her to know all of his most intimate details. 

“I know.” He pressed his forehead against hers. “Even if I don’t fall asleep, I won’t be getting up from this bed anytime soon.” He hoped that thought would make her feel better about allowing herself to go back to sleep. 

She was quiet for a long moment, and Zayne wondered if she had actually fallen back to sleep. That is until she spoke up. “Can I try something?” Her voice was even quieter than before.

“Try what? Like hitting me over the head with a frying pan or something. I assure you, I do not need brute force to fall asleep.” 

She let out a small laugh at his joke. “No… I mean, Can I try something?” Her tone was lower than before. “I know something that always makes you sleepy afterward.” 

He looked at her with a questioning gaze. “What is it?” 

She ran her fingers through his hair then moved him to lay down fully on his back again. Zayne lifted one brow in question but allowed her to continue since he was now getting peppered with dozens of tiny kisses across his face. 

Carefully, she maneuvered lower down to his chest. Zayne stayed still, waiting with a curious air about him. His stomach muscles flexed and tensed when she got to his torso, but the pain didn’t come. 

When she lifted his nightshirt and kissed just below his navel he piped up. “What, ah, what are you doing?” He tugged on her sleeve to bring her back up, but she didn’t relent. 

Her small fingers untied his sweatpants. “I want to distract you from your pain,” She gave him a small shy smile. “And help you fall asleep after…” Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she tugged on the hem of his pants. 

Zayne swallowed thickly, his heart kicking into gear. “You don’t have to-” Her lips trailed lower and he took in a sudden breath. 

“I want to,” She made eye contact with him while she rubbed him through his boxers. 

One hand stayed on her shoulder, holding her tight like it was the only thing anchoring him to reality. His other arm came up, covering his eyes with his forearm while she removed his growing erection from its confines. His pupils blew wide with the surge of adrenaline from her kitten licks, soft kisses, and the pain medicine combination. He was sure his pounding heart could be heard from a mile away. 

He held back the noises that bubbled up in his throat, restraining them and controlling them into barely there grunts and small gasps. Her kisses were slow and deliberate, moving in a way that made Zayne’s head spin. He buried his face into his arm even more, his hips reacting to her touch. The tips of his ears burned as heat rose on his cheeks. 

How her lips moved over him made him groan. Her tongue was warm and silky against his skin making him grow harder with each teasing lick. Zayne dared a peak, but the sight of her made the wind rush from his lungs. She was as gorgeous as ever, her eyes closed while she focused on the matter at hand. Her soft moan as she took him into her mouth sent a wave of pleasure through him. 

His moan alerted her and they locked eyes for a heated moment. She gave him a sultry stare, her lush lips wrapping around him sinfully, but Zayne had to quickly look away. It was too much, the pleasure, her touch, the way she looked, it was all overwhelming. Overwhelming yet oh-so-amazing. He bit his lip to contain the growing moan that threatened to escape, hiding under his arm once again to savor the sensations.

His heels dug into the bed when her hand aided her mouth in pleasing him. Her stroke made Zayne’s hips rock gently into her palm. He enjoyed himself, focusing on the feeling of her mouth sucking him in, her smooth tongue swirling around, and her hand gripping and pumping in time with her head. His chest heaved, his mind hyper-aware of her every move. 

He’d almost forgotten about the stabbing. The only reminder was the floating sensation he began to feel as the medication ran its course. It was as if he were floating on a cloud. He only knew because it wasn’t his usual sensation when he was in bed with his girlfriend. 

Her lips and tongue worked him over. Each lick felt like silk over the sensitive skin and every kiss was pillowy soft driving him absolutely wild. He wondered if the medication would even allow for him to get off like how people had performance issues when it came to drinking alcohol. However, he quickly dispelled that notion. His body was obviously responding perfectly fine to his girlfriend's ministrations. 

She sucked the ridge of his head, her tongue striking out to lick the leaking moisture that ran down the edge. Zayne’s hand flexed in reaction to this. He hadn’t realized just how hard his fingertips were digging into her shoulder until that very moment. 

“Sorry, sorry, ah-” He removed his hand and moved it to rest atop her head instead. 

She didn’t stop her work, teasing him by licking all around instead of taking him back into her mouth. Was it a small punishment for him squeezing her? He panted, his hand pressing lightly on her head to urge her for more. The slow methodical licks she gave him drove him wild. Her tongue running up and down his length sent his body ablaze. 

He knew this game well. He was well aware that no amount of begging or pleading would make her stop what she was doing until she, herself, was ready to take the next step. He kept his mouth shut, hoping she’d finally take him in her mouth again so he could rapidly find the release he knew was quickly approaching. 

Zayne peeled his eyes open and watched her lips wrap sensually around him. Her gaze met his, a playful sparkle dancing in her eye. His stomach filled with butterflies when she allowed him to sink back into her mouth until he hit the back of her throat. 

He gasped followed by a long moan while he sent a silent ‘thank you’ to whatever deity was blessing him at this moment. His girlfriend hummed purposefully, adding a layer of pleasure to his already overwhelming experience. His forehead broke out into a sheen, dampening the hair around his face. He grabbed the sheet, his hips pushing upward to chase his own release. 

He would be fooling himself if he said he didn’t think of this often. After the first time with her, it was like the floodgates opened up and, what once was a slow stride towards intimacy, was now a full-blown sprint to the bedroom every chance they got. It was always fun with her, it always felt incredible and otherworldly. Being with her in the most intimate of ways never ceased to feel surreal to him. 

Her soft lips moved further down his length, taking him deeper into the back of her throat. The tightness over the tip made him see stars. The smooth friction of her tongue and lips mixed with the added sensations from her hand gripping at the base was blissful, to say the least. Zayne’s moans were out of control. He didn’t hide them anymore as his body rocked against hers.

“I-” He spoke, a moan cutting him off. “I’m close,” He warned, his large hand tightening in her hair. Zayne made sure the action wasn’t forceful, only a gentle indication for her to please don’t stop.

She sped up, taking him in her mouth over and over until Zayne’s body arched. His legs shook while he grabbed onto the bed, his hips rocking out of sync with her actions. It didn’t matter though, he was already thrown over the edge into an eternal bliss that only she could bring him to. The pulse of pleasure coursing through him made him forget about his stab wound entirely, even forgetting about the cut on his bicep he’d yet to mention. 

His girlfriend finished drinking him down before finally releasing him. Zayne let out a huge sigh and relaxed back onto the mattress with a thud. She waited a moment before tucking him back into his clothes and kissing a path back up his torso to his face. He lay there motionless, immobile by the sheer nirvana he’d just experienced. She kissed his cheeks, nose, and forehead while he caught his breath. 

They finally shared a kiss. It was a long passionate moment where Zayne wrapped his arms around her body and held her close. She pulled back after a long moment, then planted several small kisses on his lips like they were a ‘P.S’ after a long heartfelt letter. 

It was as if he were made of lead. His arms wrapped around her as his girlfriend found a good snuggle spot right next to him. He closed his eyes, planting several more kisses on her forehead before they shared another kiss on the lips. 

Zayne could hardly believe how out of shape he felt. The stab wound really took a toll on his body made even more exasperated by what his girlfriend had just done. He hugged her tight to his chest, nuzzling his face into her neck. His breathing was beginning to even out as his heart rate started to drop. 

The room was silent, a stark contrast to just moments ago when Zayne’s noises filled the room. The kick of the air conditioning filled the silence with a bit of white noise. 

“Do you think you can sleep now?” She whispered, her hand cupping his cheek. 

He didn’t even try to open his heavy eyelids as he nodded. “Oh, yes.” He nuzzled her harder. “I think I will be able to rest easy now. Thank you,” He signed contently. “I owe you,” 

She giggled. “You don’t owe me. We’re even,” 

“Oh? Is that so,” He teased, 

“Mhm,” She affirmed. 

“In that case, I will say that I want to owe you.” He took in a deep inhale, her scent fluttering all around him. 

She let out the smallest of chuckles. “If that’s what you want, I won't stop you.” 

He hummed in agreement. “It’s what I want.” It's all he can think about now. If it wasn’t for the medication mixed with the rush of endorphins, he’d already have his face planted exactly where he wanted it between her thighs. 

“But first, sleep Zayne.” She urged him. 

“I love you,” He said, planting a small kiss on her shoulder where his face was buried. 

She gave him a squeeze. “I love you too, Zayney.”

He huffed a laugh, a smile quirking up his lips. 

It wasn’t long before Zayne passed out asleep. His girlfriend rubbed his back until she heard his breathing pattern change. She then followed soon behind, sleeping soundly snuggled up against his side. 

[joelmillerisapunk]

Bfd/dbf catches u showering and/or masterbating please 🤲

you got me thinkin' nonsense

Dbf!Joel Miller x F!reader

Masterlist

Wordcount: 2,478

Summary: Joel's asked to watch you and your parents' house while they're away, and boy, does he take watching you seriously.

Warnings: 18+, f!oral receiving, unprotected p in v, reader has pullable hair, implied age gap (make it your own) use of darlin, sweetheart, baby, a bit of Joel convincing you.

Notes: my first request! Thank you, thank you, sweet nonnie 🥰 I hope you enjoy. I love a good dbf catching you doing anything. Also about to hit a milestone with followers and I'm hoping to do a lil fun thing for it 🥰 thank you to everyone for being so amazing and kind and lovely and welcoming. My short time here has been so so warm 💚 tysm @saradika-graphics for the dividers

It had been a long day for Joel Miller. He just finished a grueling shift at the fire station and was looking forward to some much-needed rest and relaxation. But his plans were quickly dashed when he received a call from his best buddy, your dad.

"Hey, Joel. I hate to ask, but I need a favor," Al says, his voice sounds strained.

Joel sits up in his chair, immediately alert. "What's goin’ on?"

"Jen and I are taking a trip to the Bahamas for a week, and we were wondering if you could check up on the house and our daughter while we're gone.”

Joel sighs, running a hand through his greying hair. "Sure. But you know she’s not a little girl anymore, right? She's a grown woman now."

Your dad chuckles. "I know, I know. But she's still my little girl, and I just want to make sure she's okay while we're gone."

Joel smiles, feeling a surge of affection for his friend. "No problem. I'll keep an eye on her."

A week later Joel finds himself standing outside of his best friend Al's house, the keys jingling in his hand. He takes a deep breath and inserts the key into the lock, turning it until he hears the satisfying click of the door opening. Joel walks into the house, taking in the familiar sights and smells. He feels a pang of nostalgia as he looks around the living room, remembering all the times he and Al hung out here, watching football and drinking beer.

But there's no sight of you. so he makes his way down the hall, peeking into each room until he comes to your door.

But you're not in your room.

He frowns, wondering where you are. It's not like you to wander off without telling anyone. Even as a grown adult, you still always made sure someone knew your whereabouts. He checks his phone, but there are no messages or missed calls. As he turns back to the hall, he hears the faint sound of a voice coming from what sounds like the bathroom. So he decides to check just in case.

As he approaches, he hears the sound of water running and the faint sound of moaning. He pauses, his heart racing as he realises what's happening behind the closed door. He knows he shouldn't, but he can't help it. Without thinking, he reaches out and turns the doorknob, pushing the door open just a crack. He can see you through the foggy glass, your naked body glistening with water.

His eyes widen as he takes in the sight before him. You're standing under the pulsing stream of water, your hand between your legs as you bring yourself to climax. He knows he shouldn't be watching this, but he can't bring himself to look away. He feels a surge of desire course through his veins as he watches you pleasure yourself.

You tilt your head back, letting the water run down your neck and body, and he can't help but stare. His eyes are drawn to the way your hips move as you touch yourself. The way you're grasping the walls to get some leverage. He feels his own body responding, his cock growing painfully hard in his pants.

He reaches down and unzips his jeans, pulling out his thick, ready erection, filling his hand. He starts to stroke himself, his eyes never leaving your body. He can feel his balls tighten as he watches you get closer and closer to your own orgasm.

But just as you're about to come, your eyes widen in shock as you catch sight of Joel standing in the doorway, his jeans unzipped and his thick, hard cock in his hand. You gasp, your body freezing in surprise as you realize that he's been watching you.

"Joel, what the fuck are you doing here?" you demand, trying to cover yourself with your hands.

But Joel doesn't seem to hear you. His eyes are fixed on your body, his hand moving a little faster as he strokes himself.

"Don't stop on my account, sweetheart," he says, his voice low and husky. "You look so fuckin' hot, touchin' yourself like that."

You feel a surge of anger and embarrassment, but there's something else there too – something that makes your heart race and your body tingle. You've always had a bit of a crush on Joel, and now here he is, watching you pleasure yourself.

"Fuck you," you say, trying to sound angry. But your voice comes out breathless and shaky, betraying your arousal.

Joel chuckles, stepping into the bathroom and closing the door behind him. "Oh, I fully intend to fuck you, sweetheart," he says, his eyes blazing with desire. Joel advances towards you, his cock still in his hand. You back away, your heart pounding in your chest. You know you should be angry, but all you can feel is a deep, primal desire.

"Joel, this is wrong," you say, but your voice is weak and uncertain.

Joel reaches out and strokes your cheek, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "Sometimes, wrong can feel so right," he murmurs.

But you don't budge.

Joel's eyes soften as he looks at you. "Hey, hey," he says softly. "I'm not here to cause any trouble. Your dad asked me to check up on you while they're gone, that's all. I didn't mean to intrude." He pauses for a moment, then continues. "But I can't deny what I saw just now. You looked so beautiful, so alive. I'm not saying this is how things have to be, but I want you to know that I'm here for you, in whatever way you need me."

You can feel your heart racing as you look at Joel, your body trembling with a mixture of embarrassment, anger, and desire. You know that what he's suggesting is wrong, that it could ruin your relationship with your dad. But there's something about the way he's looking at you, that makes you want to throw caution to the wind.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "Joel, I don't w -”

He takes a step back before you finish, putting his hands up like you're playing cops and robbers. You can see the disappointment in his eyes as he puts himself back into his jeans and turns to leave. But just as he reaches for the doorknob, you hear yourself say something unexpected.

"Wait," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "I - I do want this, Joel, please. I just, I really don't know -"

Joel's expression darkens as he turns back around and walks up to you. He reaches out to grab a handful of your hair, pulling your head back so that you're looking up at him. "You don't have to know, sweetheart," he growls. "You just have to feel." He leans down to kiss you, his lips crushing against yours as his tongue demands entry into your mouth. You moan softly, your body melting against his as you kiss him back, your hands reaching up to clutch at his shoulders.

When the kiss breaks, you see Joel smile, his eyes burning with desire. "Let's not waste any more time." He takes your hand, pulling you toward the bathtub. "Get on the edge, darlin’," he orders, his voice rough with desire.

You do as he says, your heart pounding in your chest as you watch him move around the bathtub, positioning himself between your legs. He looks at you, his eyes blazing with desire as he reaches out and touches you, his fingers sliding easily between your wet folds.

"You're so wet," he murmurs, his voice thick with lust. "You want this as much as I do dont’cha?” Joel's fingers explore your body, teasing and tantalizing you as he strokes your slick folds. You moan softly, your hips bucking up to meet his touch as he brings you closer and closer to the edge. "Please, Joel," you gasp, your voice desperate with need. "Need more."

Joel smirks, his eyes glinting with mischief. "More, huh? Well, let's see if we can't take care of that for ya, baby." He leans down, his mouth replacing his fingers as he starts to lick and suck at your clit. You cry out, your hands reaching down to clutch at his head as he devours you with an intensity that takes your breath away.

"Fuck, Joel," you gasp, your body trembling with pleasure. "Don't stop, please, don't stop."

Joel chuckles, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine. "I have no intention of stopping, sweetheart," he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. "I'm going to make you come harder than you ever have before."

True to his word, Joel doesn't stop, his tongue works magic on your clit as his fingers plunge deep inside you, curling up to hit the sweetest spot. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your body tensing up as you approach your climax.

"Joel, I'm gonna come," you gasp.

Joel doesn't respond, his mouth and fingers continuing their relentless assault on your body. You can feel yourself spiraling out of control, your climax building up inside of you like a tidal wave.

"Joel, I'm coming!" You scream, your body convulsing with pleasure as you shatter into a thousand pieces. You grip onto Joel as hard as you can but doesn't let up, his tongue continues to lap at your clit as you ride out your orgasm, your body trembling with aftershocks.

When it's over, Joel pulls back, a satisfied smile on his face as he looks up at you. "See? Told you I'd make you come harder than you ever have."

You can't help but smile back, your body still tingling with pleasure. "You definitely did," you admit, your voice soft and dreamy.

Joel stands up, his cock hard and ready again beneath his jeans. "Good, I'm not done with you yet." He takes your hand leading you to your bed, instructing you to sit on the edge while he undresses. He steps closer, his body pressing against yours, you can feel his cock pressing against you too.

Joel's lips find yours, his tongue plunging deep into your mouth as he kisses you with a passion that takes your breath away again. You can feel the heat of his body against yours, and the sensation of his hard cock pressing against you sends a shiver down your spine.

"I want you, Joel," you gasp, your voice hoarse with desire as you break the kiss.

Joel smirks, "Then take me, sweetheart," he growls, his voice rough with lust.

You don't need any more encouragement. You reach down, grabbing his cock and guiding it to your entrance. Joel doesn't wait, his hips thrusting forward as he impales you on his thick, hard length. You cry out as Joel starts to thrust in and out of you, his hips moving with a rhythm that drives you wild. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to another climax, your body tensing up as you get close.

"Fuck, Joel," you gasp. "Harder, please."

Joel doesn't disappoint. His thrusts become more and more intense as he brings you closer. "Come for me, sweetheart," he growls, his voice rough with desire. "Come all over my cock, come on darlin I gotcha."

You can't help but obey, your climax building up inside you as Joel's thrusts become more and more intense. "Joel, m'gonna come again." You get out as your body convulses with pleasure as you shatter into a thousand pieces once again. Joel follows you over the edge, his cock twitching inside you as he comes with a low growl. When it's over, Joel pulls back, his cock slipping out of you with a wet sound. He looks down at you, his eyes softening as he takes in your dreamy state and disheveled hair.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" he asks, his voice gentle.

You can't help but smile up at him, your heart still racing with pleasure. "I'm more than okay," you admit, your voice soft and dreamy.

Joel chuckles, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. "I'm glad," he murmurs. "Because I have to admit, I've been wanting to do that for a long time."

You can feel your heart racing as you look up at him, your body trembling with a mixture of embarrassment and desire. "You have?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel nods, "I've always had a thing for you, sweetheart. But I never wanted to ruin your relationship with your dad or my friendship with your dad."

You can understand where he's coming from, but you can't deny the way you feel. You've always had a crush on Joel, and now that you've experienced the passion that burns between you, there's no going back.

"I want this, Joel," you say, your voice firm and determined. "I want you."

Joel's expression softens, and he reaches out to stroke your cheek, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "Are you sure, sweetheart?" he asks, his voice gentle. "I don't want you to do anything you're not ready for."

You nod, your heart racing with excitement and desire. "I'm sure, Joel," you say, your voice firm and determined. "I want you." You stroke his patchy beard, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you.

Joel's eyes light up, and he presses a gentle kiss to your lips. "I want to spend the rest of the week exploring every inch of your beautiful body."

And he does, taking you to heights of pleasure you never thought possible. By the time your dad and his wife come back from their trip, you and Joel have become inseparable, and you find yourself at his place more than not.

After a week of passion and exploration, you and Joel have grown even closer. You find yourself falling for him hard. You never thought you could feel this way about your dad's best friend, but here you are, head over heels for the man.

But you know that this is a secret that can never come out. You and Joel have talked about it at length, and you both know that the consequences would be disastrous. You're both aware of the potential fallout, and you're both committed to keeping your relationship a secret.

It's not easy to keep your relationship a secret from the world. But every time you're together, every time Joel touches you, every time he whispers sweet nothings in your ear, you know that it's all worth it.

You know that this was never meant to be, forged in the most unlikely of circumstances. But you also know that this is real and true and strong. And you're willing to do whatever it takes to protect it.

So you continue to see each other in secret, stealing moments of passion whenever you can. It's not perfect, but it's something. And for now, that's enough.

[shotmrmiller]

singlemom!reader au~

Pathetic!Simon purposefully gets sick. He's seen the way you coddle your baby, and he wants a sliver of that attention.

(i will not go into detail on what he does, but be aware that temperature doesn't make you sick, bacteria and viruses do. good luck.)

Once sick, he covers his face with a black surgical mask and waits around the time you come home to step out, hoping to catch you in the lift.

Bingo.

"Oh my god, forgive me for saying so, but you look like death." He'd huff out a chuckle if he didn't also feel like it.

He can feel his throat itch, a tight pressure in his chest, and a wet cough claws out of his throat. Simon tips his head and moves to go around you but you're swiftly grasping his hand, dragging him back down the hallway.

"Absolutely not, you are not walking around like a living dead while this ill."

He's dizzied off of your touch, the small hand in his larger one slamming his pathetic, little heart against his ribs.

"Even your hand is hot to the touch! You, sir," a jingle of house keys as they're inserted into the lock, "are getting some much-needed rest. The baby is with her grandmother today, so it'll be just us."

He can't be blamed for the way his cock stirs at the thought of being alone with you. This is better than what he'd expected, truthfully speaking. Simon had just wanted your sympathy, maybe even a cup of homemade soup but this?

"Come, shoes off." He toes off his new balances as he watches you take off your coat, hanging both on the rack.

You flick your eyes to him and that look you give him makes his cock twitch. Your brows are furrowed, a worried look reflected in your pretty eyes, the corners of your beautiful lips pulled down.

Pity. His loins are on fire. You pity him, and he loves it.

"Simon, I think we should lie you down." Your fingers grab his own, leading him toward your bedroom.

Everything happens in a blur, maybe he's gone and gotten a little too sick, but it's all worth it when you tuck. him. in.

Unfolding the covers that lay on the foot of the bed, you gently pull it until it sits just under his chin.

"Right, you get some sleep and I'll make you some chicken soup. I've luckily got all the ingredients in the fridge already."

Would it be too much to ask for a kiss on the forehead?

The door softly clicks shut and he unloops the masks from around his ears and breathes in.

Your blanket smells like you— a heady, musky vanilla with an underlying twang of lavender.

His head spins, it's so rich in your scent, his painfully hard cock straining against the zipper of his trousers. His imagination runs wild as he fists it and presses it right under his nose, inhaling noisily.

Do you sleep shirtless under this blanket? Does it have the privilege of feeling your bare, soft skin?

He's always known that he's a bit insane, especially with his borderline criminal behavior, but what he does next, he really hopes you don't blame him for.

Simon pulls down his trousers just a bit and fists his cock from over the blanket— the touch as close as he's ever going to get from you.

He's been aroused since you laid eyes on him on the lift, the almost disappointed face you gave him was almost too much. Simon loves it, any attention is worse than none, but his spine tingles when you, and only you, look at him like he's a pitiful cur.

A stray dog that limps around, scrounging for food around the streets, tugging at the heart strings of others.

Sublime.

He curls into himself as he nears his peak, the material of your blanket sodden with his pre-cum, a souvenir of his time here.

And then your footsteps are outside of your door, your knuckles rapping on it.

"You need anything from me, Simon?"

Oh, love. Give him everything.

He choked out his negative, which you luckily mistook as him having a small coughing fit but in reality, your dulcet voice sent him careening over the edge at neck-break speed— gooey, viscous cum spurting into your blanket.

Simon's teeth audibly grind, keeping back any noises that want to claw out of his sore throat.

Drawing in a big gulp of air, his body loosens, sinking into the mattress as his eyelids begin to feel heavy.

Now, he can sleep.

He sincerely hopes this blanket is your favorite.

[heich0e]

I need to know what happens with Atsushi🥹

atsushi is waiting for you patiently when you slip back into your bedroom—perched at the edge of your bed, his legs and socked-feet stretched out in front of him, his jacket folded nearly over one arm atop his lap.

your face feels hot, and your heart is racing, but not for any of the nice reasons that they were before the lamp on your bedside table brought the extent of atsumu's heinous interference to light (literally.)

you can't help but feel painfully embarrassed by the situation. guilty that you hadn't just been able to brush it off more casually to save face. terrified that this thing you were so excited about just a few hours earlier is all going to end before it's even had the chance to start.

atsushi looks over at you as you shut your door, and once the latch catches and clicks shut, you tuck your hands behind you demurely as you lean back against it. it's quiet for a moment upon your return, and you struggle to meet his gaze.

"i'm sorry about that," you finally say, dropping your chin and risking a remorseful glance at him through your lashes.

atsushi laughs a little, mostly breath, as he ruffles his dark hair. "you don't need to apologize."

"i do," you insist, pushing yourself off gently from the door and approaching him slowly. "you practically walked into a crime scene here."

he peers up at you from his seat on your bed, close enough to him now that he has to lift his chin to meet your gaze. it's unfair how handsome atsushi is. unfair how precisely your type he is. unfair how badly atsumu has ruined this for you—as evidenced by the dozens of his eyes that peer at you from around your bedroom.

atsushi smiles. sincere and reassuring. "it wasn't that bad."

"it was," you press again in refutation, inching closer and closer until your knees hit the mattress. atsushi wordlessly sets his coat aside and grasps your hips, and you swing one leg over his lap to perch yourself upon it. you feel you have little left to lose at this point—what with your dignity just as shredded as the tattered poster left half-hanging over your bed—and your hands slip up atsushi's chest until you reach to circle your arms around his neck. you're close like this. can feel how warm he is. can almost taste his lips again, to the point it makes you feel a bit insane. your eyes flicker pointedly down to where his folded coat has been set aside near the foot of your mattress, and then slowly make their way back to meet his. "are you leaving?"

"ah," atsushi's breath hitches a little, stumbling slightly over his words. his adam's apple bobs when he swallows. "i wasn't sure if... i wasn't sure you'd want me to stay."

"i do," you whisper as you dip down, using your arms around his neck to pull him closer and kiss him again—just as sweet and palpably exciting as your kisses earlier had been.

his hands at your waist tighten their grip, his lips parting eagerly against your own to deepen it. you drop your weight down a bit more firmly into his lap, lowering yourself properly onto him instead of holding yourself up slightly on your knees, and his hands slip to the small of your back and then begin to trail even further down.

he pulls away after a moment, both of your breaths laboured.

"what about your roommate?" he asks, though it seems to physicallly pain him. his cheeks are flushed such a sweet shade of pink it nearly makes you scream.

and for the first time since you'd arrived back to your home, something finally goes your way. somewhere outside your bedroom door, you hear the jingle of keys—followed shortly by the distinct sound of your front door opening and closing as atsumu exits the apartment, more than likely leaving for the night.

you turn back to atsushi and smile slyly, leaning in until your lips are hovering over his own. "i don't think you have to worry about him."

[redfoxwritesstuff]

A Misdemeanor Of The Heart: Chapter 1 (Alastor x Reader)

Rated Adult for adult themes, triggering content and sexual content. I wouldn't say this is dead dove but it's dead dove adjacent. Series Trigger Warnings: Adultery, stalking, Sexual assault, Rape, smut of undetermined sorts, Domestic Violence, Time period accurate views on women and domestic violence and skin color, Alastor is a serial Killer, there's murder, there's angst, there's dark content.

Summary: Fading away in an abusive marriage, each day passes just the same as the last. Painful monotony eats at you until a pair of warm brown eyes sparks the idea that you could have something more. When a business deal between men sparks a torrid affair, how long can you keep things going before the fire either leaves you a burnt out shell or burns up everything around you?

And what becomes of the radio host who thought he was above the fickle fires of the heart when the match he strikes burns his hand instead? Can he possess what rightfully belongs to another man without leaving everything he has fought for in ashes?

Please be mindful. This story is dark and triggering at times. I've written portions to elicit an emotional reaction. As you should always do with dark content, even if you're not at risk of being triggered, please step back and take a breather when needed. The story will always be here when you get back. I am so tickled by the excitement this story has generated ahead of its release. We're looking at tentatively between 20 and 30 chapters (A note from future Kit: Ha! That was a cute prediction... I'm drafting chapter 37 rn and looking at 50...(Another note for future-er Kit...we're writing chapter 51 rn... we're not passing 60) posted once a week on Fridays.

Masterlist AO3 KoFi

Audio by Nyx Productions, Part 1, part 2

To the world, you appeared nothing more than a simple woman with a placid smile, gliding through town. The rhythmic click of your sensible black heels echoed against the sidewalk. To a trained eye, your gait could be categorized as slightly staggered, stiff, and just a little uneven, but to an untrained eye? There was nothing to see, but a modestly dressed woman, impeccably put together though just slightly out of fashion, performing the role of the ideal well-to-do wife with the precision of a clockwork automation. 

You could have taken a bus, but you would rather walk, or at least that was your story, but it wasn’t totally true. You tried to focus on the positive, a lesson your parents had instilled in you from an early age. If you couldn’t focus on the positive little bits of your life, what else was there?

It was nice to get out of the prison of your home. That is what you’d tell anyone that asked, though you wouldn’t call it a prison to anyone but yourself. They would smile and nod, like was polite and they’d make small talk about how mundane the life of a homemaker was and assure her that as soon as little ones landed her days would be filled with excitement and joy. 

What wouldn’t be said was how you wished she could brave the bus because your simple heels hurt your feet or how the idea of falling pregnant terrified you. You couldn’t, wouldn’t really, brave the bus because it would jostle you and you’d surely bump into someone or something. This time of day, the bus would be crowded and people would bump into you.

Today you couldn’t have that. 

Today you needed to protect yourself.

Stepping into the tailor shop you thanked the man on his way out, holding the door open for you on his way. With a sigh, you let the relief of an errand half done wash over you as you stepped up to the counter. Behind you, the bell above to door jingled, announcing another new arrival to the small shop.

Glancing over your shoulder, you hardly registered the tall man with tan skin and fluffy brown hair as he held the door open for his short blonde companion. An odd pair, you thought before turning back to the counter, showing the woman where the sleeve on your dress was torn, seam along the shoulder ripped and explaining your fabricated story of how it happened. 

She smiled at you with pity. This was injury to clothing she knew well though she would never be so bold as to talk about it. You were not the only woman in town to frequent the tailors with ripped shoulder seams or dark rust colored stains. These were the secrets she kept, a professional curtesy that was expected from her but always unsaid. Did the people of the city even realize the things she knew?

“It’ll be ready in a few days, Mrs. Latimer.” The shopkeeper was quick to take the dress from you, doing the work of holding it up and examining the rip. 

It was a small mercy, to not have to raise your arm much at all. The woman folded the dress neatly away and slipping it below the counter before motioning you aside while she wrote out your ticket. She was a master at multitasking, finishing your ticket as she greeted the newcomers who seemed less eager to step up to the counter than the shopkeeper was to serve them.

“What about that one?” the blonde woman whispered to her companion as you thanked the shop keeper as she handed you your ticket. The newcomers lingered, taking their time making their way to the counter. 

“Mimzy, we are here to pick up your dress,” the man’s rich voice sounded familiar but you couldn’t place it. Glancing at him, you tried to place where you could know him from but came up blank. That was just as well, Laurence didn’t let you really socialize much outside of your day to day tasks.

The blonde, Mimzy you had gathered her name was, wiggled her fingers to you in a wave as she caught you looking their way before directing her attention back to the man she was with. 

“Yes, yes. And you need the lining of your coat restitched,” She made a show of rolling her eyes, performing for an audience of only a handful, “You’re no fun sometimes.” 

“A dreadfully dull time, that’s me,” the man laughed lightly.

“I’m just saying,” Mimzy continued as you stepped toward the door, “You’re a good man. A decent man. You should find someone, is all. You don’t gotta settle down but you don’t gotta be alone all the time either.” 

You cringed, struggling to push open the heavy door, trying to not listen in on the pair’s clearly private conversation. You had been too eager when you pushed on it and your shoulder didn’t hold up to the stress well, pain flaring. It was easy enough to forget how painful your shoulder was in the moment. 

It wasn’t so bad, as long as you didn’t overdo it. Pushing open the heavy door yourself was clearly enough to count as overdoing it today. 

“Here, allow me.” The man pushed open the door for you, holding it open with a palm high along the edge of the door, giving you plenty of space to exit. 

You ducked under his arm with a mumbled word of thanks. It didn’t matter, he didn’t seem to really be listening for it anyway as he directed his attention back to his companion as he let the door begin to fall closed as soon as you were out of striking range of it.

“And why should I-” the rest of his words were lost behind the closing door. 

Alastor sat in the empty lounge, sipping his rye as Mimzy talked on and on while she changed. The dress surely would fit her just how she wanted, it was custom fitted but that didn’t stop her from putting on this whole production every time they got back from the seamstress. 

He knew the song and dance well enough, having known the woman for the past few years. She would change. He would complement. She would complain. He would reassure. She would blush and call him a flirt. He would move on with his day. 

“Oh!” Mimzy interrupted herself, earning a raised eyebrow from Alastor. “I forgot to tell you.”

“Tell me what, my dear?” 

She popped her head out from between the curtains, “I think I found myself a new juice supplier. You’re off the hook.”

“You think?” Alastor downed the rest of his drink in one smoothe gulp.

“Ya- Laurence’ll be able to take over soon and you’ll be off the hook again. I know you ain’t eager for that amount of risk. Told you it was only temporary.” 

Alastor hummed in acknowledgement as Mimzy went on and on about Laurence. He was tall, not as tall as Alastor, she assured him, but still tall and handsome. He tuned out her ramblings, mind instead turning back to the woman Mimzy had pointed out at the tailor shop. Such a timid little thing, fashion just outdated enough to stand out. 

Mimzy smacked his shoulder with a bar towel, leaning across the counter to look him in his eyes as she demanded his attention, “Yes?”

“You’re distracted,” she stated simply. 

“Just thinking about tomorrow’s broadcast.” Alastor answered simply, running his finger over the rim of the empty glass. “That’s all.” 

“Mhm,” she narrowed her eyes at him as he leaned back from her. “You sure you ain’t thinking about a pretty face?” 

“Haven’t seen any prettier faces than yours today.” 

Mimzy laughed loudly and teased, “Flirt! But I know it ain’t my face that’s got you distracted. Was it the doll at the shop? She was cute!” 

“She’s got a man,” Alastor countered. 

“And how the hell would you know from not speaking to her at all?” 

Alastor shrugged, “Just got a feeling about her.” 

He could tell Mimzy that she had that hollow look in her eyes that a woman got when she had a partner that got a bit too rough with her. Hell, he could point out the way she couldn’t manage to open the door to the shop, her shoulder weak from strained muscles. Did the man that called her his toss her around by the arm last night? Yank her a little too roughly?

He wouldn’t though because it didn’t matter. It wasn’t worth having Mimzy ask questions about his past or worse, assume the reason he had no partner of his own was due to any reason beyond him not desiring to be weighed down. 

“I bet a charming lad like yourself could sweep her out from under whatever man she’s caught up with anyway. Want another?” Mimzy pointed at the empty glass as melting ice settled in the bottom. 

“I’m good, Darling- It’s early yet.” 

Your feet were killing you as you made your way home. Still, you couldn’t help but take your time. If you were out, you were not home cleaning, cooking or waiting for your husband to return. While you were out, you could pretend to be your own person and it was alright, you had to keep up appearances as long as it was the right appearance. 

Lingering in front of the newsstand, you let your eyes run over the papers and magazines each with bold words on the covers, fighting for the eye’s attention. 

The headlines were polar opposites in many cases. Some celebrated the progress and change made in the 24 months since women had been granted the right to the vote. Others bemoaned the change and the influence women could now have on the world around them, pointing at any little thing as a sign of the doom this would spell for society as a whole. 

The idea made you laugh. Two years and while you did your best to learn, you hadn’t even come close to a polling center. Your husband wouldn’t allow it. Whatever change there may have been for better or for worse, you had no part of it. 

You knew which of the papers your loving husband would pick up and celebrate. It wasn’t the same ones you would but that didn’t matter. Women may have had the right to vote but you knew you were little more than an accessory in the world you lived in. 

Moving on with your walk home, you tried to force yourself to relax your shoulders and back. The pain was starting in from tensed muscles, telling you that while you hadn’t been watching your posture well enough, you had curled in on yourself. 

A deep breath in through your nose and out through your parted lips, slowly as you pulled your head up and your shoulders back, trying to ignore the way the muscles screamed in protest. You forced your spine straight and winced at the pain in your shoulder as you worked your fingers into the tense muscle, trying to convince it to relax. 

It would pain you for a few more days yet and if you were lucky, that would be it. You just needed to be good until it had a chance to heal. 

“Good Day, Mrs. Latimer.” A man you should have known tipped his hat at you in greeting, startling you out of the thoughts you hadn’t realized absorbed you as you walked slowly down the sidewalk. 

He was closer than you had expected when he snatched your attention, causing you to gasp and flinch back, shoulder twinging in pain. You didn’t like people in your space, at least not without warning. All it would take was someone saying you were getting too close to a man to your husband and hell would rain down on you regardless of the truth of it. 

Your shoulder banged into the light post behind you. You didn’t know it was there, having lost track of your surrounding as you walked in the haze of thoughts. A gasped yelp slipped from your lips before you could stop it.

Appearances. You had to keep up appearances. Swallow the pain, don’t let anyone know. Don’t let anyone see. 

“You alright?” The man asked as he steadied you, large hand gripping the outside of your shoulder only making the pain flair more. 

Shrugging out from under his grip, you painted on a false smile as you willed the tears in your eyes back. 

“I’m fine,” You looked away as you saw pity cross the man’s face. How much did he see? Surely not more than what was normal, what was acceptable?

“You be careful ma’am,” the man nodded wisely to you. “Didn’t you hear? There’s a serial killer running around. Probably not good for a lady to be out alone till they catch the bastard- pardon my language.” 

“Oh my,” you tried to play the unsteadiness on your feet as being from the terrifying news. Would be believe it? Did be believe it? “I’ll be sure to be mindful, thank you.” 

You didn’t need his pity but what you needed even less of was him seeing any real reason to pity you. Forcing your hand from your shoulder, you tried to ignore the pain, to will it away. 

There was nothing to see here. Just Mrs. Latimer making her way home from the tailor shop. There were no bruises. No torn dresses. Nothing wrong. 

Life was perfectly normal, a storybook where you were married into a family of means with your family having so very little to offer. 

Tag List: @xalygatorx, @catticora, @alastor-simp, @alastorthirsty, @nyx91, @lilith-jae, @goyablogsstuff, @kaylopolis, @sirens-and-moonflowers, @charlottemorningstarsdarling, @diffidentphantom, @rainydaysmut, @honestlyshamelesskid, @yui-onnero, @lunarmango

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Next?Masterlist

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[clawsdevour]

caught on cam

wc: 1.6k content warning: post-time skip, established relationship, kuroo x reader, smut, fingering, recorded sex, not proofread

note: this is like somewhat a continued story after the homemade film imagine!!! ALSO THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR 300 FOLLOWERS IT MEANS A LOT TO ME THAT YOU GUYS REALLY LIKE MY WRITING, ESP WHEN YGS REQUEST YOUR OWN STORYLINES AND PLOTS FOR ME TO WRITE FOR YOU!!! TT_TT <333

𓍯ぃ ˑ  ִ

At the front door, you’re stumbling behind Kuroo as he’s trying to hastily pick the house keys from the bundle on his carabiner. The jingles from his keys rattled as he unlocked the door, turning the wrong way in the grooves of the handle while he’s letting out a few grunts of frustration till he was able to open the door.

“Door’s open..!” Kuroo exclaims, looking back at you with his hand out to put a grip on the side of your waist. You're slyly smiling as you walk in ahead of him, feeling a warm presence linger down below, slowly moving down towards your hip, and beyond lower. You both paused for a moment, closing the door with a discrete bang and a click as he locked the top and bottom knob.

“Did you forget why we came home early?” You’re staring into Kuroo’s hypnotizing hazel eyes with this seductive look plastered on your face as he’s gazing back at yours, sluggishly shuffling off his jacket.

“Now.. What made you think I forgot?” Kuroo’s smirking cunningly as he steps closer to you, eventually cornering you against the hallway wall. Inches away from his face, you planted a quick kiss on his cheek to toy with him while letting out a giggle. 

“You’re such a tease.” His hot breath tickles your ear when he whispers, lowering his head toward your collarbone keeping eye contact with yours. You felt a warm embrace press in between your legs. His fingers snuck up on you and started feeling up your panties as he slowly kissed you going from head down to your chest, leaving his subtle marks in only places he knows. 

You’re letting out sweet whimpers into his ears while his sloppy wet kisses attack you, pressed against the wall you wrap your arms around him to pull him even closer. His arms reach for your ass, signifying he wants to carry you somewhere else. Hopping into his arms, his grip on your ass was tight. It was like he had his hands feeling up mounds of raw dough that spilled out of his hands as he strolled into the living room. 

Slowly, he placed you down on your back on the couch laying your head down last. He’s standing on his knees hovering above you, Kuroo’s watching you while he’s tugging down at his tie to loosen his collar and dress shirt. Watching him start to undress, you pull up your shirt leaving him to see your exposed nipples that were now perky due to the chilly air while you see his length grow in size pressed against his restraining pants.

“You’re so cute, you know that? Ha.. I need a photo, or maybe a video.. to remember how fucking adorable you look right now.” Kuroo murmurs under his breath as he reaches for his back pocket to whip out his phone. Opening the camera app, he switched to the video mode and started recording with your permission. 

Playing with your tits with one hand, and the other with his phone capturing his soft fondles and flicks. Kuroo’s teasing your nipples as you let out faint whimpers feeling all the sensitive sensations created by his hand. His finger traces down your stomach, sending tingles that sparked down making you slightly arch your back against the plush couch. His hand reaches down towards the inside of your legs, tracing your inner thighs to soothe them. Looking at the screen to get the right angle as he flips your skirt up to reveal your slightly damp panties. His fingers press onto your clit, rubbing it in slow circles as you feel the friction in between the fabric and his fingers against your stimulated organ.

“Wet already, hmm? Do you want my fingers baby? Tell me or I won’t give you them..” switching his attention from the screen to your flushed pink face, waiting for you to utter out your response.

“Fingers.. I want your fingers in me, Kuroo” He’s snickering at your words and how needy you looked when you said them. His hand reaches for the sides of your underwear to pull them down, tugging on both sides to reveal your bare cunt to the camera. Getting your panties off he flings it off to the side before going back to your glistening juices. You’re covering your face in embarrassment when he gets his phone closer to your pussy, parting open your flaps to show the camera your full intimate area that leaked your sticky essences. His finger coldly brushes against your slit, collecting your slick as he hums in satisfaction.

“Are you excited that you’re being filmed, hmm? You’re pussy’s calling for me y’know?” Snickering, he’s circling your clit over and over sending shockwaves up your spine.

“So fucking beautiful down here, you should stop covering your face. M’trying to film all of you.”

Slipping a long slender finger into you, you let out a moan and listen to his words, essentially taking your hands off your face to stare back at the lense and your boyfriend. Kuroo’s watching his phone as if watching ordinary porn, he’s getting painfully hard. It was almost unbearable and he felt  like he could cum in his pants at just the sight. Adding in another finger, he’s also speeding up the pace while curling his fingers into your sweet spot. Your back arches even further on the couch, he’s recording every second, every angle, every sound, and every time he’s taking out and putting back in his fingers while watching you shake in pleasure. When you had your orgasm it was like you felt electricity race throughout your body as your vision blurred.

“Shit.. was it that good? Do you even need my dick inside you?” Taking his fingers out to reveal the slick all over his fingers, he pans the scene down to your breathless face that’s trying to regain its sanity. The footage shows his fingers being put into your mouth to get cleaned off before he unbelts his tight pants that held his increasing erection in check.

 Back to your senses with a more steady breathing pace, you’re spreading your legs wider for him as he closes in between the gap. He was able to get his pants unbuttoned and his belt off. Taking out his cock, the screen shows his dick bounce out to reveal his great size to which he stroked up and down making you salivate at the sight.

“Kuroo.. put it in,” holding your legs back for him, hips staring back at the ceiling with your messy pussy ready to plummeted by his cock. He’s lining himself up at your entrance, sliding in smoothly as he lets out a groan of relief while watching your stomach protrude with his size in you. 

“You feel like heaven.. feel s’good baby,” pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead before resuming filming your little sex tape. Gradually his hips clicked with you as he put his thumb on top of your clit to stimulate you further. While he’s going at it, you’re shifting your gaze from Kuroo and to the camera as your tits move in sync with each of his poundings. Each squelch made you wetter the more he thrusted, the phone in front of you made you feel like a real big slut for Kuroo as you moaned out his name multiple times, capturing the whole moment.

You’re squirming so bad on the couch from pleasure, trying to close your legs but always being denied by his hand that prohibited you. His tip kept bullying his way into your sweet spot so many times, you were just about to have your second climax. Zooming in on your wet pussy, to tits, to your lewd face slightly covered with your messy hair. Kuroo knows you’re eventually about to cum and immediately pulls out, leaving you in pants with whines in between.

“W-What’d you do that for.. Kuroo??” You’re out of breath and dazed in confusion. 

“Don’t worry about it, just making you feel extra good..” you mumble out a tired m’kay. Kuroo’s placing his phone down for a second, his hands rolling your limbless body onto your front. Your tits pressing down into the couch as he puts a pillow under your abdomen to help you stay stable so he can carry on with fucking you, this time with your ass up towards the ceiling. 

Sliding back into your warmth, except he’s able to reach deeper in this position, you can’t help but groan when his big cock makes his return back into you. Phone back in his hand while he videos your big ass taking his powerful and hard thrusts, making you moan like crazy while you try to grip onto the couch. Your ass against his pelvis jiggles with each time he plunges back into your gummy walls that don’t want to let go. 

“All mine right here.. haha. So beautiful. All mine..” Kuroo’s pussy drunk deep around your sticky walls, fondling the flesh of your ass when he adds a stinging strike on your cheek that turns a light red. You flinch in pleasure, tightening your grip on his cock that leaked of your essence.

“F-Fuck..! Think I’m gonna cum, can I do it inside baby?” Planting kisses on your back up to your shoulder. You’re lazily nodding while looking back at him in exhaustion, mouth open with whimpers spewing out his name. Kuroo’s warm seed shoots into your messed up pussy, pausing a bit before he takes his throbbing cock out for the camera to see your dripping cunt that held his genetic DNA.

He’s slowly exiting out of your warmth, immediately feeling a bit hollow as you try to hold it in you. He’s focusing the camera onto your pussy as his white fluids start to trickle out and slowly land onto your inner thighs while you start to give up on keeping it all in.

“T’so fucking hot.. I can't believe I got it all on cam this time. Maybe later we could watch and recreate it.. what do you think?”

masterlist here

[leaentries]

claim | nico hischier

summary: when a girl’s night gone wrong ends with nico’s girl getting a tattoo, he realizes how much he loves claiming her.

warnings: a bit of possessive nico, grinding, marking, fingering, slight breeding kink, unprotected sex, creampie, swearing

wc: 2k+

a/n: posting this at 3am, so enjoy, cause i definitely did.

p.s: nico is so daddy that it hurts

This was probably stupid. No, scratch that. You knew it was stupid. As it pans out, a bottle of pink whitney and truth or dare during girl's night, never ends well. 

But, as you lay in the chair with that familiar buzzing next to your ear, you contemplated your life choices and how you ended up here in the first place. Cursing your best friend, you hiss as the tattoo gun hits the area behind your ear. 

“Holy shit!” You groan in pain, “You absolutely suck, Bry.” 

She giggles, tossing her raven hair behind her, “Listen, in my defense, you were the one who said we needed to up the anty during girl’s night.” 

If it weren't for the surging pain spreading through your upper body, you’d probably slap her. Bryan was never one to back out of a little competition, which is one of the reasons you guys clicked so well. Only this time, your normal competitiveness was biting you in the ass.

“I can’t believe I’m actually doing this. What’s Nico gonna say? He’s probably gonna think I’m nuts and break up with me.” 

Bryan scoffed, “Oh please, Nico doesn’t know how to breathe without you by his side. He’s not gonna break up with you.” She glanced over your head as the artist pulled away. “Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if he proposes the second he sees it.” 

After the artist finished cleaning you up, he handed you a mirror so you could see. Gleaming back at you, in all its glory, was a dainty “13” written in black ink. It was small enough to be covered with your hair but big enough to be seen when your hair was up. 

Bryan smirked at you through the small mirror, “Nico is one lucky man, babe.”

❥. 

Nerves pulsed through your body as the time ticked down. Nico was gonna be home any minute from his team meeting. He sent you a quick text while you were still at the tattoo place, letting you know he’d be home late. You let out a deep breath, staring at your new marking in the bathroom mirror. You played with your hair, indecisive on how you wanted to wear it when Nico arrived. 

Eventually, you decided to keep it down, opting to let Nico discover your body's new addition on his own. You settled yourself in the kitchen, perching yourself on the chair closest to the door. You had made dinner earlier since you knew it was very unlikely that Nico had remembered to eat. Just as you began to take out your phone to check where Nico was, you heard keys jingling against the door. 

Your heart rate picked up with each passing second. Worry plagued your mind in fear he wouldn’t approve of the tattoo.

The door creaked open, as a tired-looking Nico walked in. His eyes immediately found yours and a loving smile took home over his features. 

“Hi, schatzi.” He strode over to you, bending to press a sweet kiss on your head, “Did you have a good girl's night?” 

You nodded, standing so you could wrap your arms around his torso. Leaning up with a pout, Nico chuckled. He planted a quick peck on your lips, drawing a whine from you. 

“Neeks, stop teasing.” 

He sent you a dimpled smile, before kissing your cheek and walking to where you had set out his dinner. Nico was quick to pour himself a glass of wine, turning to bring you one as well. He sat down next to you, taking a sip. You tucked your hair behind your ear, temporarily forgetting about the special ink. 

Your eyes snapped to Nico as he choked on his wine, “Jeez, Nico. You okay?” 

Once he got over his coughing fit, he shook his head no. His eyes darkened as he moved the glass away from the edge. “What was that behind your ear?” 

You smiled sheepishly, looking away from him. 

“Y/n, baby. Look at me,” You let your gaze meet his, “Pull your hair up.” 

The demand was soft, but enough to spread a pleasurable heat through your body. Grabbing the hairband that lives on your wrist, you quickly put your hair back, the ink now on full display for Nico’s hungry eyes. 

“Fuck, schatzi,” Nico mumbled as he inspected the tattoo. Seeing his number permanently on your skin was enough to have his cock straining against the confinements of his sweats. His mind went hazy as he stared at you. 

“Do you like it?” Hearing the hesitation in your voice, he tilted your face towards him. 

It was then you noticed his appearance. Chest heavy with lustful gasps, eyes almost black as he took in your body. Nico was turned on. You confirmed your theory as your eyes wandered down to his painful-looking erection. 

You swallowed thickly. 

“Like it? Christ, baby. I fucking love it.” Nico never realized how much he could love seeing something that represented him on you. Of course, his heart soared every time you wore his jersey and he got to see his name sprawled across your back. But this? This was different. It was more than just a representation, it was a claim.

A claim to the rest of the world that you were his. And boy did his dick like the sound of that. Nico bit his lip as thoughts of claiming you further filled his mind. Unable to control himself any longer, he leaned over pulling your jaw to crash your lips together. A moan escaped your throat at the intensity of the kiss. 

Nico’s hands moved to your thighs, helping you to sit on the table. He settled in between your legs, pulling your aching core to press against his throbbing cock. His lips trailed down your neck, sucking marks into any bit of skin his mouth could touch.

“Gonna mark ya up, baby,” He licked a stripe from the base of your neck all the way to where your tattoo lay, “Gotta make sure everyone knows you’re mine.” 

His hands gripped your thighs harshly, angling his hips upwards to create more friction. You moaned as his bulge dragged deliciously along your clothed clit. Nico continued his assault on your neck, bringing one hand to ghost over where your perked nipples showed through your top. 

He brought his head out of your neck, panting, “Need to feel you, schatzi. Need it so bad.” You eagerly agreed, helping to strip off the little clothing that you wore. Once Nico had removed your panties, his fingers quickly traced circles on your mound. You tilted your head back, the much-needed stimulation spreading ecstasy through your veins. 

“Fuck, Neeks. Feels so good.” You whimpered into the air. 

His desperate gaze drowned in your body. Nico dipped in one finger, before slowly dragging it back out. 

“So wet, f’me,” He brought his finger to his lips, sucking off your juices, “Who makes you this wet, baby?” 

“You, only you, Nico.” You whined. Nico wasted no time before plunging two fingers in your weeping hole, setting a brutal pace. A scream nearly left your mouth as searing pleasure took over your senses. 

“Shit!” Your nails dug into his biceps in an attempt to ground yourself. Nico caught your lips, swallowing the moans and whimpers that escaped. The sweet drag of his fingers had your velvet walls clenching rapidly. You knew you weren’t gonna last much longer, having been worked through already with Nico’s grinding. 

You pulled away, dropping your head onto his shoulder, “M’ not gonna last, Neeks” 

“I know, schatzi. Cum on my fingers, baby. Make a mess.” 

His words were enough to coax your first orgasm, blinding white covering your vision as your body convulsed into Nico’s. His fingers didn’t let up until he worked you completely through your high. You whimpered as overstimulation began to set in.

“Too much,” You cried. 

Nico slowly came to a stop, pulling his fingers out and bringing them to his mouth for a second time. “Mmm.” He hummed at the taste, “Always so sweet f’me, beautiful.” 

Despite having just orgasmed, the sight of his tongue swirling around his fingers, sucking off your arousal had your pussy clenching around nothing. Nico looked down to where his fingers just were, slightly pulling open your cunt with his thumb. 

“Such a pretty pussy, all mine.” He seemed to be muttering more to himself than you, relishing in your body and how you were his. 

Nico looked back to your eyes, helping you off the table and taking you back to the shared bedroom. He plopped you on the bed, shedding his remaining clothes, before crawling to hover above you. 

“Wanna be my good girl?” You nodded, “Open those pretty legs for me.”

You obeyed, welcoming his thick muscled body onto yours. His cock stood proud against his abdomen, the tip red and already leaking precum. You brought a hand to wrap around the top, swiping your thumb along his slit, a line of precum connecting to your digit as you pulled away. 

A deep whine left his throat, “Fuck, schatzi. Too sensitive for that right now, wanna cum inside.” 

“Please, Neeks. Need you in me, please.” Your mind was reduced to nothing but the thought of his cock drilling you into the mattress. 

“Yeah? Want me to fill ya up? Fuck, you’d look so pretty all swollen with my babies.” Nico dragged his cock between your slick folds, “No one would have to ask who you belong to.” 

You whimpered, “Quit stalling Neeks, need you to fuck me.” You brought your hands to wrap around his back. 

Nico brought his hand down to guide his cock to your entrance, easing in slowly. You both let out a moan as he bottomed out. He sat for a moment, letting you adjust to his size, the stretch always taking you by surprise.

You bucked your hips slightly, signaling that he could move. 

“Give me just a second, saw your tattoo again and almost busted.” Even though he wasn’t trying, his crude words sent fire to your core causing your pussy to convulse around his still dick. 

After a few moments, Nico slowly brought his cock out till just the tip remained. He plunged back in, doing the same motion a few more times. His deep thrusts racked your entire body with tingles. He started to speed up, but still keeping deep inside your cunt. 

“Nico!” You cried as he prodded at your g-spot. 

“That’s right, baby,” He grunted out, “Scream my name, let everyone know who makes you feel this good” 

His thrusts began to quicken as your muscles started to spasm around him. With each glide of his cock, pleasure soared through your body, reaching all the way to your toes. You were completely consumed by Nico. 

He buried his head in your neck, tilting slightly to press a gentle kiss against his number. A sweet gesture that didn’t go unnoticed by you. Hands gripping at his back, you dragged your nails down the course muscle, leaving angry red trails that he was surely gonna get hell for in the locker room. Nico began to get sloppy as you both neared the peak. His uneven thrusts, paired with the hand that found its way to your clit had you reeling. 

“That’s it, schatzi. I know you got one more in ya, cum f’me baby.” 

Your back arched into him, eyes shutting tightly as the coil in your stomach snapped. Your pussy clamped tightly around Nico, sending him over the edge. He continued to pump his cock in and out, painting the deepest parts of your cunt with hot ropes of cum. Your mouth hung in a silent moan, voice gone from the previous activities. 

When you regained your senses, you noticed Nico’s weight had collapsed on top of you, his chest heaving. You brought a hand up to lazily stoke his hair, “If this is what I get every time I get a tattoo, then I’m gonna be covered.” 

He smiled, placing a kiss on your tattoo, “Only if they’re about me.” 

[bobawitch]

Sweater Weather | M.S.

summary: reader makes a crochet sweater for her boyfriend matt. she later sees him wearing it in their next podcast

pairing: matt x fem!reader

a/n: tbh i dont love this fic but i hope yall like it. a nick fic and a chris fic as well as a new chapter of lets trip are on their way so be on the lookout.

wc: 878

cw: fluff, that should be it

Matt had been your boyfriend for almost 2 years by now. You had been in plenty of videos and even a few podcasts and for the most part the fans really loved you. That had been a huge concern for you and Matt, so when the fans had an uproar of support and love you found yourself feeling much more comfortable.

On that specific day you had been crocheting while watching some of the triplets videos along with some of Larray’s. You had wanted to make Matt a sweater ever since you started crocheting but you had kept this little project a secret. Your phone began to ring and you looked down to see a facetime from Matt. Immediately you grabbed your phone and picked up, smiling at Matt’s face. “Hey baby” You smiled and waved at Matt through the phone, setting it up so he could only see your face. “Hi love, how’s your day been?” You continued to crochet the last few rows of the sweater, smiling down at your work. “Good, we just got done filming for Friday. How has yours been?”  You shrugged and began folding the sweater. It wasn’t the best work but it looked good enough that you didn’t feel the need to remake it. It was blue and white and black, it was fluffy and had some skulls and hearts on it. “Good, I’ve been working on a little something for you actually.” Matt’s eyes grew wide and he made a small o with his mouth before smiling.” “Can I see??” You grinned and shook your head. “No but you can come over and I’ll give it to you.” Matt fake pouted before you heard some rustling. Soon after you hear a few keys jingling. “I’ll be over in 10.” You nodded, biting your thumb nail with a smile. “Ok, see you soon.” The call hung up shortly after and you turned off the TV before properly folding up the sweater and putting it in an old present bag. 

After a few more minutes you hear your front door open and you walk around the corner to find Matt. You immediately give him a hug, burying your face in his chest. “Hey love, you miss me?” Matt chuckled through his question since you hugged him so harshly. You mumbled and nodded, smiling and looking up at him. “Yeah.” He smiled down at you before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You wanna see your gift?” Matt eagerly nodded before letting you go. You grabbed his hand before leading him into your living room. You grabbed the little bag and handed it to him, smiling and watching him open the gift. He pulled the pale blue sweater from the bag and a big smile crossed his lips as he examined it. “Oh my god, did you make this?” You nodded with a sheepish grin across your face. “Oh my god, Y/N! I love it!” Your cheeks became warm and you moved to hug Matt who enveloped you quickly. He hugged you tight around the waist and picked you up, spinning you in a circle before kissing you. You kissed back, your hands finding their way in his messy hair. Soon you pulled away and smiled at the boy. Your forehead rested against his as you both caught your breath. "Are you gonna wear it all the time?" You asked, knowing your question came from a teasing place. Matt grinned wide, finally setting you down and allowing his hands to rest lazily on your hips. "Of course I am. I'm tempted to never take it off, baby." Your cheeks tinted pink at his reply, mainly because you knew he was dead serious. Your own lips curled into a smile as you wrapped your arms around his waist in a tight hug.

About 5 days later you got the notification that Matt and his brothers had posted their weekly podcast. You of course planned to watch it but as you went to click on the video you noticed what Matt was wearing in the thumbnail. It was the sweater you had made him. You smiled to yourself, biting the top of your thumb nail before pressing play on the video. You finished the video and started scrolling through the comments, a few were about Matt’s outfit which made you grin from ear to ear. As you basked in the glory of having both Matt and his fairly harsh fans like your sweater, your phone began to ring. It was a facetime from Matt. You picked up and smiled, “I liked your outfit in the podcast baby.” Matt grinned and moved the camera to show that he was still wearing it. “When did you guys film that podcast?” “Oh like, the day after you gave it to me.” You smiled, nodding in a sudden understanding. “Well I’m glad you like it.” Matt smiled, bringing his phone closer to him, as if he could hug you through the screen. “I love it baby, thank you so much for making it for me.” Your cheeks became warm as you mimicked his movements, holding the phone close to you. “I love you Matt.” You said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I love you too Y/N.” 

[flowermiist]

A warm heart - II

Click here to check out past chapters if you haven’t ♡

Pairing: John Price x Fem!Reader

Sypnosis: Some time ago, you started a cooking channel on YouTube as a way to relax, have a proper hobby and teach others your favorite recipes as you improved your own culinary skills too. Fame wasn't something you wanted, you were more than happy with your 50k subscribers... Yet you never thought you'd stumble upon one of them.

Word count: 3k

A/N: Hii!! I’m really excited for this chapter (as with every other) I’d like to apologize if this took me more time than I intended, work has been quite heavy lately but all the kind comments make me smile soo much. Enjoy!! And please don’t forget to like, reblog and let me know your thoughts about this chapter if you’d like!

After leaving your car at Harrison’s garage, you take an uber home. The mechanic told you it would take about three days to properly fix what was wrong with the engine, you didn’t give it much thought.

You sit in the back seat of the Uber and place your grocery bags on your lap, you sigh and open your purse, seeing the small note with John’s number – It was written on an old receipt the man managed to find in one of the pockets of his jeans, using a black pen you always keep in the glove compartment of your car.

You sink back into your thoughts while looking out the window. You don’t know whether to call his number or not, you sigh and keep thinking, as intense as it might sound, you know that if you call his number and he doesn’t pick up, you’ll be too embarrassed to ever attempt to call him again – You promise yourself that if he doesn’t pick up, you won’t call again.

It wasn’t like you wanted anything other than to thank him again properly for helping you back there. John was nice, yes, but he was still a stranger and you didn’t really know much about him.

You turn your head to the other window and realize you’ve reached your destiny, you pay the grumpy driver and make your way into place.

The charms hanging from the keychain jingle as you open the front door. You sigh and close the door behind you, locking it before you start walking towards the kitchen with the grocery bags in hand as well as your personal bag that has the receipt with the phone number of certain man – you make sure to place the groceries where they belong and you kneel down to the drawers of the counter where you store the bags you used, might come handy anytime.

The tripod is still on the counter where you left it. You check the battery of your camera before grabbing the ingredients for the homemade sourdough bread you’ve been preparing for your next video.

So after washing and drying your hands, you re-adjust the camera to the tripod and begin recording the process, making sure the lightning looks good enough.

When you try to start the small oven to preheat it and have it ready for the bread, it does not respond which makes you confused since last time you used it, which was over a week ago, it had been working – not anymore, apparently.

What is going on? Why is everything you own acting up? First the car now the fucking oven, great.

Not wanting to get pissed any further, you choose to use the oven of your stove which of course, was bigger and would take more time to heat up.

This was going to be a long night for sure.

John finishes putting the clean dishes away, the TV in the background with some History Channel show he was not paying attention to, but it was just the background noise he wanted.

Not particularly interested in what the telly had to offer anymore, he turns it off and does the same with the lights of the living room as well.

John Price has always had a pretty strict rule for himself and for his house, to turn off every light he wasn’t using – except for the old lamp he had in his living room next to the couch but besides from that one lamp, every other room that was not being used did not need any artificial lighting.

As he’s about to walk towards the stairs, the man remembers the laundry he had put in the dryer earlier, he had completely forgotten about it – “Fucking ’ell…” the words escape his lips as he clicks his tongue in annoyance and moves towards the uility room of his house, where the clothes should be.

After opening the small lid of the dryer, John places the clean clothes in the basket, grabs the old iron and the ironing board. He has never liked to leave things to the last minute, never liked to do things in a hurry and do them badly. John knows it’s better to iron the clean clothes now rather than leave them all wrinkly and forgotten.

Placing the ironing board in the living room, he folds out the winkly t-shirt and connects the iron, waiting for it to start producing enough heat and get this shit over with as soon as possible.

Some steam appears and he grabs the handle, making smooth movements with the iron, moving it from from the neck to the short sleeve of the green cotton t-shirt.

Looking back at it, the material is still the same, wrinkly and with obvious creases. John gathers his patience and moves the iron again, using a rough hand to stretch the fabric more and trying to press one of the buttons to make more heat yet nothing happens.

His mind drifts towards today’s events as all he can hear is the sound of the iron against the clothes – Your smile was still in the back of his mind and the thought of the big possibility of you not calling his number crosses his mind. Was he too forward? Would you call?

Without noticing, he moves the iron over his thumb and part of the back of his hand, groaning out in pain loudly as the sharp pain immediately hits him. John quickly grabs his left wrist. “God fuckin’ damnit, old fucking thing!” – Endless insults rumble through his chest, escaping through gritted teeth as the man is scrunching up his face with discomfort looking at the back of his hand where the bright red mark on his thumb throbs.

The smell of burning fabric and steam catches his attention again, looking down at the iron burning his shirt he quickly grabs it and places it vertically, taking a moment to manage the anger rising inside him, his face almost red.

John lifts up the green t-shirt, his gaze darkens as he sees the dark hole over the sleeve of the fabric. “Awesome.” He states with anger and sarcasm as he throws the t-shirt on the floor and unplugs the iron, contemplating smashing it against the wall for a single second but knowing it won’t solve anything.

Breathing through his nose while calming down, he walks to the kitchen sink, gritting his teeth in discomfort as he washes the burning part of his left hand – A first degree burn, nothing he can’t handle.

The basket with clothes ready to be ironed remains forgotten as John grabs one of the aid kits he keeps inside one of his kitchen counters. The man clearly has experience with dealing with these superficial wounds as he loosely wraps some of the bandage around it, covering the red area.

“What a muppet.” He grits through his teeth, directed to nobody but himself.

When you finally finish the video, you look at the clock, it is around 21:30 and you are tired, however; you aren’t too tired to go to bed just yet – and besides that, there’s still something you want to do before going to bed or rather someone you want to talk to.

The bread has such a good smell, freshly baked as you cut a big piece and put some cheese, tomato slices and arugula over it before biting and almost melting at the delicious flavor filling your palate.

You walk towards your bedroom and open the drawer of the nightstand right next to your bed to grab the pack of cigarettes on the second drawer. You were never a smoker but you liked the taste of nicotine on your mouth from time to time, especially after such a long day like this one.

You open all the windows to make sure the smell does not stay inside the apartment, you may like the taste and how the nicotine relaxes your mind but you still find the smell of it sticking to your clothes absolutely annoying.

Walking back to the living room, you grab our purse as the cigarette remains between your lips, the string of smoke and the smell over you now, your eyes open more when you look at the old receipt with the man’s number and smile, grabbing the cigarette from your lips and exhaling the smoke out of you.

At this point, all you are wearing is a pair of gray lacy underwear and a white tank top.

You look at the wrinkled paper and gather some courage before you dial the number and press on the green phone icon to call.

John sits on his back porch, a cigar between his index and middle finger.

His attention is immediately caught when he hears the ringing sound of his phone back in the living room, where he left it before moving to wash the dishes. Who would be calling him at this time of the night if it was not work related?

He grunts as his knees crack when he stands up and walks back inside, seeing the “unknown” contact and quietly staring at the number. Could it be?... No, he does not want to get his hopes up.

“Hello?” A hoarse, masculine voice speaks through the line with a tone full of curiosity and some clear seriousness, you immediately smile, holding the cigarette as sink down on the swing chair of your balcony.

“Hope it isn’t too late.” You say, bringing your hand closer to your mouth and position and the nail of your right thumb between your teeth when you hear a low chuckle. He recognized your voice, of course he would.

“How are you?” The man immediately asks after you stop talking – If you were able to see him, you’d see the way he scratches the beard on his cheek and goes back to his porch, a small smile between his thin lips.

“I’m good…” There’s a small silence before you speak again, keeping the phone close to your ear with your left hand. “Wanted to thank you again for everything, you know…”

John hums in acknowledgement – “No need to thank me, it was quite an honor for me to help my cooking teacher…” Is he flirting? No, that has to be a trick your mind wants to play with you for fun.

“How’s the car, eh? Hope it didn’t stop in the middle of the road.” He slightly tilts his head to the side while speaking, changing the topic rather fast.

“Well… I left it with the mechanic, won’t have it for a few days – took an uber home.”

You could have asked me to drive you home – He wants to say as he takes a puff of the thick cigar between his fingers. Of course, he would not rush into anything. He was still a stranger to you after all and the thought of possibly sounding creepy cringes him.

“Sounds like you had quite the battle then, with all those grocery bags?” His tone makes you chuckle and that gives him some relief yet he doesn’t want to think much of this call for now.

“I did, actually. Came home and filmed my next video.” You say, forgetting about the cigarette between your fingers and you move your hand away from your face.

“Mhm… Next recipe then?”

“Yes.”

“May I know ’bout it?”

“Nope.”

John chuckles quietly and it makes you smile.

“It’s a surprise...” The calmness of your voice is clear and it resonates in his ears.

“I don’t mind waiting then.” His voice is just as calm as yours.

There’s a comfortable silence through the line when the question pops out and you decide to ask it, to learn more about him.

“You said you had experience with changing tires.”

“Indeed.” John responds, giving you silence of his own for you to speak.

“Well, you got me wondering if you were actually my mechanic in disguise.” It lights up the mood a little bit when you hear a breathy smile. John grins before replying.

“I could be, you never know…”

“Where did you get the experience?”

He thinks of his answer...

“Different places ’round the world.” It’s vague and definitely not enough for you to figure him out completely and you are eager to do so.

A hum sounds through your throat, you take a drag of your cigarette and exhale. Not keeping the smoke inside for too long.

“You travel a lot?”

“Quite a lot, yes.” His voice is still calm. John is pondering whether he should say more or leave it at that, he is not the most open man when it comes to his line of work.

“Business men travel a lot.” The suggestion arises in the air when your words are spoken.

“They do, don’t they?” The sarcasm he uses answers absolutely nothing, he’s messing with you and you can clearly tell he finds it funny.

“Maybe you’re a famous lawyer traveling from one boring conference to another…” Another one of your suggestions.

John can’t help but grin a little at your response – “No, nothing like that.”

“Doctor?”

“No, not that either.”

You sigh, you won’t deny this is entertaining but you were getting nowhere so you give it one final try – “Well... They say military men travel a lot... Are you one of them?”

“Correct.” A calm voice replies and you try not to cheer loudly at finally guessing a part of this man’s life.

“So you’re in the military?” You want to make sure you’re right, even if he was clear and brief.

“I am.”

The line goes quiet before you break the silence.

“Explains a lot then.” You try to sound unimpressed as you shrug and it does get to him because now he’s curious.

“Does it?” He moves the cigar to his lips again, taking a puff and looking up at the dark sky.

The phone call hides the teasing smile painted over your lips. “Yeah, you look it.”

Before John can question your words any further, you change the topic.

“I’m pretty sure there are evil gnomes messing with my stuff.”

Your words don’t fail to impress him as he exhales smoke through his nostrils.

“You believe in that stuff?” The thick british accent and his raspy masculine voice could not be more noticeable as he tries not to sound rude while making fun of your possible beliefs.

A chuckle escapes your lips and you pretend to act offended by his selection of words “And what if I do?” A brief pause – “First my car then my oven…”

It catches his attention, John tilts his head like some curious dog and keeps the phone pressed against his ear.

“Did the secret recipe go wrong?”

“Well, almost.” You sigh and elaborate. “So I got this… smaller oven, easier to use compared to the bigger one that comes with the stove but as I tried to preheat it, it stopped responding.” “I’ll have to get a new one tomorrow.”

With a sigh, you get up from the swing and get closer to have a view of the street under your building, you take another drag of your cigarette as you place your elbows on the frame of the balcony, feeling the cold breeze embrace your exposed thighs and caress your almost naked arms, moving your hair with it.

“Could help you look for a new one.” The same husky voice sounds through the speaker of your phone. John’s eyes dart around his back yard, a man like him is never fully off guard. No matter where.

“You’ve already helped me enough… I- don’t really want to bother you.” There’s some embarrassment in the tone you use, looking up at the dark night sky while exhaling a slow – thin string of smoke out of your lips.

The man gazes at his bandaged thumb then at his fingers holding the cigar.

“Wouldn’t mind a shopping expedition, could use one m’self.”

This catches your attention, curiosity enters your mind. “Yeah?”

John won’t admit the fact that he burnt his hand with the old iron because he was distracted, he would rather lie that sound like a fool.

“Got this old iron at home, burnt my bloody hand while trying to use it, burnt my goddamn t-shirt too.” Some embarrassment makes the british man scrunch up his face, he doesn’t want to sound like a potty mouth.

He clears his throat before continuing – “Would be good to kill two birds in a stone, ya get your oven and I get my iron… Some advice could be useful too – ’bout the iron, ’course...”

A small smile escapes your lips as you reply to the man on the line - “Sounds like a good plan then...”

“Sounds like it.”

“Could drive you to the store with me if that’s alright.”

Right, you haven’t thought about how you’d get there.

“Will need one.” Of course you will, dummy, You don’t have your car with you – Says that little voice within your head, the one that tries to prevent you from saying too much.

His deep voice is heard again through the speaker of your phone. “Right, no problem.”

John replies, his tone monotone and casual about it which you’re thankful for.

“What time can I pick you up at? Got all day.”

“I get out of work at five, a friend will drop me off at home… Is six too late for you?”

“Don’t worry ’bout it, six ’s fine.” John says calmly and you smile.

“I’ll text you the address then.” You sit back on the hanging chair as the wind moves your hair and you squish the head of the cigarette against the ashtray placed on the small glass table of your balcony.

“Six it is then.” That voice rumbles through his chest and without even knowing you just put your cigarette away, he sticks the head of the cigar against the wood of his porch, leaving a small mark, putting his own cigar away almost at the same time as you.

“Good night, John.”

“Sleep tight, Y/N.”

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