#home remedy for skin tight

[hustleholic]

Natural Home Remedies for Everyday Illness 

Natural home remedies are a great way to improve your health and well-being. They are cheap, accessible, and work for a variety of different issues. Here are some of the benefits:

Natural remedies can be used for a variety of different issues including mental health, physical health, and emotional health.

They are usually cheaper than medical treatments, which is especially helpful if you have to pay out-of-pocket

Some natural remedies can be made at home with ingredients that you have in your kitchen cabinet

Many natural remedies don’t have side effects like prescription drugs do

Home remedies are accessible because they’re available in stores or online.

Get access to your Home Doctor here

[whateveriwant]

might I request how tf 141 tries to turn you on maybe? Sorry kind of a weird request you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to ;-;

Not a weird request at all, anon! Hope you enjoy! 18+ only, GN!Reader

Price

Three words: full body massage

That man loves to get his hands on you, and it doesn’t even have to be sexual in nature, honestly. Any opportunity to touch you, to caress you, to help ease the tension from your body, he’ll gladly take it (and if afterwards you’ll let him ease himself into you, well, that’s just an added bonus 😉)

He might use special rollers or electric massagers sometimes, but mostly he just sticks to those big, strong hands of his

He'll start by slicking up his palms with some oil, warming it up before he applies it to your skin

Beginning with your shoulders, he’ll slowly work his way down your body, paying special attention to the areas you need most targeted

Aside from those tender spots, he’ll also be sure to focus on a few of your more erogenous zones, namely your thighs and your ass (he's an ass man for sure)

By the time he's finished, you're all supple and pliant before him, but there’s something else too – a sort of warm, fluttery feeling in your gut

Luckily, he knows just the remedy for that sensation. And oh! Would you look at that? You're already in his favorite position: prone

Ghost

We all know he tends to be a man of few words, and this applies to every environment he finds himself in

…At least, every environment outside the bedroom, that is

Because when he's in the mood, you best hold on tight to your pants if you don't want them flying off from how he talks to you (but, I guess, your pants coming off is his end goal anyway)

You'll just be going about your day, minding your business, when you'll get a call from him while he’s “busy” at work

He'll start off casual at first, inquiring about your day, your plans for the night, etc., but it won't take long for the conversation to steer to the real reason for his call: to describe the way he's going to fuck you when he gets home

He'll go into excruciating, toe curling detail about all the things he's going to do to you; just how good he’s going to fuck you until you forget your own name

I hope you're not in public when you take his call, otherwise you better have the poker face of a lifetime if you don't want to make a scene in front of several dozens of witnesses

Gaz

He's a big romantic at heart, so rather than just going straight for the bedroom, he'll slowly work his way up to it over the course of the evening

First, he'll treat you to a nice dinner – either by cooking it himself or by taking you to that fancy restaurant you love but think is much too expensive for every day dining

Beneath dimmed, romantic lighting, together you'll share a delicious meal, a glass or two of wine, and of course a tasty dessert to cap it all off

The conversation will be light and pleasant (nothing unbecoming whatsoever), but while he might not outright voice the plans he has for you later in the night, that look he keeps giving you from across the table speaks volumes

When you’ve finished your meal and gradually made your way back home/to the bedroom, even then he still isn't done buttering you up just yet

He'll put on some slow music, maybe light a couple candles to really set the mood, even draw you both a bath if you're feeling up to it

Once he does finally take you to bed, it'll be a seamless transition from an evening overflowing with desire and passion

Soap

‘Subtlety’ is not really a word in his vocabulary, so most of the time when he's horny, he's just turning to you and asking if you want to fuck

However, sometimes when you need a little more build up than that, he has a few tried and true methods he knows will work you up

He'll change so that he’s walking around your flat wearing a pair of gray sweatpants. Wearing only a pair of gray sweatpants, mind you

Whilst wearing said sweatpants, he'll proceed to stretch and flex around you, showing off all those muscles he knows you love, as well as highlighting a few other assets he knows drives you crazy (i.e. bulge printtttt 😍)

He'll then get really touchy with you, starting innocent at first – brushing an eyelash from your cheek, straightening the neck of your shirt – before he gets more and more brazen with his petting

And when he's real close like that, leaning right into your ear, he’ll mutter soft praises to you: telling you how beautiful you look, how good you smell, how soft your skin is where he’s touching just there

By the time he finally goes to ask if you want to have sex, he doesn't even get the words out before you're jumping him like a wild animal. All according to plan…

[martiniluvr]

18+ minors dni

warnings: sex pollen but it’s a dick grayson solo special 💫

★・・・★・・・★・・・★

he’s not sure how he made it home in one piece, but the second he’s through the front door of his apartment, dick grayson is wrestling his way out of his nightwing suit, his ears ringing as he stumbles through his room and into his bathroom. his skin feels hot, too hot, and his breathing is ragged; ivy, he thinks hazily, discarding his suit on the floor. those fucking plants—it’s that goddamn pollen.

he rids himself of his boxers, and catches a glimpse of his sweaty, flushed appearance in the mirror. dick’s pupils are so wide that his blue eyes are almost black, and his cock is painfully hard, the tip red and angry as it leaks precum down his length. he grimaces as he lurches into the shower, dousing himself in freezing cold water. when dealing with poison ivy, he’s usually far more careful than he was tonight, and now he’s paying the price; too desperate to look for the antitoxin, he has to take matters into his own hands—literally.

dick grits his teeth as he wraps his fingers around his shaft, hissing at the tenderness. relief floods his taut muscles, but he can’t help but think how much better your tight cunt would feel around him right now. the image of you bent over makes his hand pump faster as he pictures your pretty ass bouncing off his thighs, and he swears he can hear the way you’d moan at his intrusions. god, he wishes he could see your pretty pussy gripping him right now.

his knuckles are white as he strokes himself, the burning on his skin still far from subsiding despite the orgasm building in his lower belly. shit, just a little more. he groans at the thought of using the crook of his elbow to pull you flush against him by your neck, keeping you in a headlock as he fucks into you, just so he can hear you whine. fuck, there it is.

he presses his burning forehead against the tiles as his abdomen spasms, ropes of hot cum spurting out onto the wall as he swears loudly. cold water trickles down dick’s stomach as he pants, his heartbeat thrumming in his ears. he realises the ache that had subsided just a moment ago is slowly building again. puzzled, he glances down, and his eyes widen at the sight of his cock, still rock-hard and twitching in the cool bathroom air. what kind of fucking plant was that?

he didn’t want to worry you with this—after all, he was sure his home remedy would work—but he realises he has no choice as he feels his skin growing feverish again, and he can only hope you’ll understand. he groggily shuts off the water and makes his way back into his room, collapsing onto his bed as he takes his phone from the nightstand. he manages to send you a single line—need you now, come see me—before he drops his phone in the sheets, his hand finding his aching cock once more. it’s going to be a long night.

[lovegalor333]

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

sick day pt 2 (previous part)

summary: paige caught your cold, now the roles are reversed and you look after her

content warnings: none!

request by: anon, this one for u bby 💋

You were getting ready for a day of studying at the library, after being away from classes while you were sick, you had a lot of catching up to do. You packed your bag with books, your laptop and headphones of course, you wouldn’t be able to concentrate without music. You felt almost completely better, Paige had nursed you back to health with all her home remedies and lots of hugs.

A knock at your door caught you off guard, you weren’t expecting anyone. Your roommates were either at work or in class and Paige was at her morning workout.

You opened the door sceptically and was met with a very sorry looking Paige. Her eyes were hooded and her nose three shades redder than usual, she looked exhausted.

“Hi P, what are you doing here?” You ask but you have a feeling you already know the answer. Paige looked just like you did a few days ago. She was sick.

“Geno sent me home. I’m sick.” She pouted and you opened your arms for your girlfriend to fall into. Despite Paige standing almost a whole foot taller than you, you still managed to wrap her in your arms tightly and pull her into your apartment.

“I don’t want to say I told you so but I did indeed tell you so.” You say in jest, you had warned Paige not to get too close to you but she insisted on staying by your side until you felt better, she continued to hug and kiss you as if nothing was wrong and now she was paying the price.

“I just wanted to look after you.” Paige replied, her voice croaking and she winced at the feeling.

“I know baby and I love you so much, now it’s my turn to look after you.” You say, slipping her bag off her shoulder and taking her hand in yours, “Let’s get you to bed.” You rub soft circles on the back of her hand as you lead her to your bedroom.

You pick out some shorts and t-shirt Paige had left at your place since she stays over so often. “Arms up baby.” You instruct Paige, who’s now sat limp on the edge of your bed, shoulders slouched and eyes squinting. You remember how the bright light stung your eyes while were sick and you flick it off at the switch, the natural day light streaming through the window lighting the room instead.

Paige lifts her arms and you slip her training shirt off her head, it finding a new home on your floor and she’s left in just her sports bra and sweats. “On or off?” You ask pointing at her bra, not knowing if she’d feel more comfortable with it off. “Off please.” She mutters, lifting her arms again for you to remove the bra and you do, your hands grazing along her skin in the process and you feel how hot she is. “You have a temperature my love, we gotta get that down.” You tell her, helping her slip her arms into the t-shirt you provided.

You swap Paiges sweats for pyjama shorts and you think about the delicacy and intimacy of you undressing your girlfriend so she’s completely exposed just to dress her again in something more comfortable and you love that you have these simple, domestic moments with Paige. You have amazing sex too and that’s great but you’re grateful you can not only find pleasure in each other but comfort as well.

You gently untie Paiges signature braids after she complains of a headache and you run your fingers through her hair massaging her scalp as you go. She hmms in response to your soothing touch and you continue for a while longer hoping to release any tension the tight braids had caused.

Your sheets were freshly washed and smelled of comforting lavender and you opened them, guiding Paige to rest against your pillows. She sneezes a few times, her head bopping down as she does and you know she’s sick and not feeling good but you can’t help but find her mannerisms so cute.

“OK, I’m getting water, medicine and I picked up a little something especially for this situation. Any requests from the kitchen, my pretty patient?” You ask Paige stroking her face gently and her eyes flutter closed at your gesture, “Maybe some goldfish?” She asks looking up at you, eyes heavy with sickness and adoration for you, even when she was ill, Paige still looked at you with so much love, you were grateful you had some so special that looked after you when you needed it and that you could look after when she needed it. “Of course.” You press a kiss to her forehead and drag your blanket over and around her shoulders as you notice her shivering slightly.

You gather everything you need and take it back to Paige, her head is rested back and she looks as though she’s sleeping but she perks up at the sound of you entering the room again.

You provide Paige the pills you know will make her feel better the same way she did for you, holding a bottle of water to her lips for her the swallow the tablets.

“Before the Goldfish, drink this.” You say producing a small bottle filled with a ginger shot from your pocket and Paige immediately shakes her head, “No. Yuck. I’m not drinking that.” She refuses, clamping her lips shut.

“Oh come on P, it’ll help you.” You insist, unscrewing the cap.

“A hug would help me too.” She whispers, lifting up the duvet for you to join her in bed. “And I’ll give you all the hugs, all day and all night.” She smiles weakly, “…Once you drink this.” You say bringing the bottle to her lips and her small smile quickly drops.

“No. Not doing it.” She says voice hoarse and rough and you just know it hurts when she speaks.

“Paige, your voice sounds like rocks dragging on concrete. Please just take the ginger shot.” You plead, perching on the edge of the bed.

“I think you mean my voice sounds sexy.” She husks and you laugh at her attempt to divert the attention away from her refusal to drink the health shot in your hand.

“How about a compromise?” You offer and she raises her brows waiting for you continue. Deep down, you knew Paige was just a girl who liked girls, you especially, so you take her hand by her wrist and guide it under your shirt, placing it firmly against your left breast and Paiges eyes widen in shock. You offer her the shot once again and she takes it in one swift gulp, grimacing at the bitter taste. “I’ll take six more.” She grins, giving your tit a slight squeeze in her grasp.

“Alrighttt miss, enough of that.” You say removing her hand, “We’re trying to get that fever down, remember?”

Eventually you climb into bed next to Paige, changed back into pyjamas, studying at the library could wait, you had a sick girlfriend that needed some serious TLC and you were going to give it to her.

You ran a damp cloth over her forehead, praying for her fever to subside.

Paige snuggles into you as your turn on the TV starting the next episode of her favourite show, Greys Anatomy. Your hand falls to her back where you trace circles with your finger tips, “That feels really good. Don’t stop.” She mumbles into you, sniffling slightly. “I won’t baby. I’ll stay right here, like this.” You reassure her, “Get some rest, you need it.”

After some time, you feel Paiges breaths even out, she’d fallen asleep, head in your lap, arm rested on your legs and you keep your promise and continue tracing circles on her back. You’d do it all night if she asked, you’d do anything for the blonde girl that would do anything for you.

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

[g0dlyunsub]

can u do Spencer x fem reader where he's away on a case and she is super sick but doesn't tell him bc she doesn't want him to worry and he ends up coming home early and surprises her but she is still soo sick and he feels so bad that she felt like she couldn't tell him and takes care of her and is just so sweet with her!

yess! i loved writing this one so much 😳

doctor's orders.

you fall sick and decide not to disturb spencer during his working hours. when he returns home, he demands that he takes care of you, and you realize how adept he is at fondling the soreness out of you.

pairing :: spencer x fem!reader

contents :: slightly suggestive :3 lots of fluff, spencer calls reader a good girl once

word count :: 2.5k

author’s note :: spencer would literally be so gentle when taking care of you, it actually makes me sick to the core just thinking about how his nimble fingers would brush back your hair when it sticks to your sweaty forehead arghhh

accompanying song :: sugar by unusual demont

you struggle to keep your balance as you attempt to walk from the couch to the fridge. everything’s a warped blur, and you flail your arms helplessly to catch yourself from leaning too far to one side. but your head’s pounding relentlessly while a faint high-pitched ringing echoes through your ears; a burning sensation’s spreading through your back like a wildfire and your throat’s clenching with a throbbing pain every time you swallow. soon you’re on the ground, your hands fully taking in the coldness of the bare floor. you take labored breaths as you try to compose yourself, mentally counting backwards from ten as you try to lift yourself up but to no avail.

you haven’t felt this sick in a while, and you curse your own body for the painful reminder. you wince as you rest your head on your arm briefly, finally gathering some strength to push yourself off the floor. a bead of sweat trickles down your forehead, and you sigh weakly as you try to stabilize yourself.

the muscle pain, fatigue, congestion, sore throat, and fever – they’re a handful, and you know the symptoms would eventually subside with some home remedies and time, but it barely helps when you can only move by half-crawling and resting your hand on the wall every other step. 

and you don’t want to bother spencer about it. he left you early in the morning, but not without fixing you a cup of tea and some scrambled eggs. you were still in bed, blissfully unaware of the symptoms marinating as you slept. and while he’s always told you to text or call him even if it was for a minor inconvenience, you feel bad for taking his time away from something that would easily overtake priority on anyone else’s list – murders, kidnappings, and hostage situations, just to name a few. yet you feel like you’re really testing the waters this time, clearly overestimating your ability to deal with your troubles when you’re clearing the contents of your stomach in the bathroom.

you drag yourself to the kitchen to pour a glass of cold water and gulp it down with tylenol from spencer’s medicine cabinet. it quickly quenches your thirst, and you carelessly drop the glass on the table with a loud thud. you groan as you place a hand on your forehead to feel your temperature. it’s scorching hot, and combined with the sweat, you feel as if your body will give out any moment.

you wipe your hands on your sides and whisper a soft oh. right. you had attempted to surprise your boyfriend with a pretty outfit, wearing a dress with thick lines of lace and mesh sleeves. but the silky layers were insulating all the heat in you, stinging your delicate skin and suffocating you slowly. you can barely lift your arms to take it off, so you give up and lie on the couch. bringing your knees to your chest, you curl up and try to think of anything but your pain.

spencer opens the door with a large grin plastered on his face, eager to greet you back with a tight embrace. he’s carrying a small basket with cookies and heart-shaped packing peanuts scattered all around them, a purchase he scoured for hours at the local plaza after asking garcia what she thinks you would enjoy. 

“y/n? guess what!” he walks into the living room with an energetic step, only to stop when he spots you groggily waking up on the couch, your face deeply red and hot puffs of air leaving your mouth in the form of short pants. 

spencer drops everything to the ground and runs over to you, the heart-shaped foams rolling everywhere on the ground and ricocheting off the front skirt of the furniture. 

“y/n – what happened?” your boyfriend squeezes his arms into the thin space underneath your body, repositioning you so your neck can lie on the padded cushions of the armrest. you whine in pain as you turn to face him, your half-closed eyelids twitching as you try to keep them open. 

“hurts,” you wince, and your voice comes out as a hoarse whisper. you’re miserable that this is the state that you’re in, pain jolting through every inch of your body, leaving you a writhing mess in your man’s unwavering hands.

“shh, let me take care of you,” spencer murmurs with a gentle tone, one that’s higher-pitched and soothes you instantly like a massage. he stuffs a cushion under the nape of your neck and props each of your legs up on the other sidearm before wiping your forehead sweat with the back of his hand. his slightly musky and sudsy smell makes you lean into his touch, an intoxicating distraction from the torment of your numbing pain.

“did you dress up like this all for me?” he asks you, his fingers softly brushing back your hair as he examines your outfit. you let out an indecipherable string of words, discomfort flooding into the back of your throat as you attempt to speak.

spencer stands and heads to the medicine cabinet, where he pulls out a thermometer and makes quick strides back to the couch.

“open,” he demands lightly, and you slightly part your lips as he brings the thermometer to your tongue. you slowly close your mouth, feeling the cool tip turn warm under your muscle as you wait for the beep to ring.

when it does, spencer checks your temperature with a concentrated expression, which soon morphs into marked concern. you blink at him slowly, all the while his hands rake through your hair in a rhythmic motion. 

he stands once again, disappearing into his room before coming back shortly with one of his t-shirts and a pair of your shorts hanging loosely from his arm. 

“you need to change, y/n. as beautiful as you look with this dress, it’s interfering with your body’s ability to thermoregulate.” 

you weakly sigh in response, slowly reaching for his shirt as you inhale his familiar scent. you hug his shirt for a little while longer, and spencer has to remind you to change with a soft tap of your hand.

with the help of your boyfriend’s arms, you sit up slowly and start to shrug the sleeves off of your shoulders, to which spencer instantly looks away. he clears his throat as you slip out of your dress and pull up your navy shorts, and he diverts his attention by deciding to pick up the fallen foams instead. after you hastily throw the shirt over your head, you sink back onto the couch and feel an instant sensation of relief as the heat radiating from your body meets the cool air.

spencer’s face is a deep red this time when he looks back to see that the edge of his shirt’s folded in on itself, thereby exposing your stomach in plain view. he hesitantly reaches for the hem and drags it down to cover you, and his hand hovers over your waist for a brief second. 

“i’ll be back,” he briefly states before moving back into the kitchen, where he pours a cold glass of water for himself. he takes off his cardigan and rolls up the sleeves of his shirt, before reaching his hands into the sink and splashing his face with water. he has no idea how you manage to capture his attention so effortlessly, leave him desperate for air as if he’s the one that’s sick. he bites the inside of his cheek as the image of your flushed face and exposed torso gnaws at his thoughts.

the things you do to him.

he returns to you with an electrolyte drink in his hand, which he uncaps and brings to the bottom of your lips. you take slow gulps as he lays his hand at the base of your neck and helps you to lean back for easier access. once you’re done, he wipes the wet corner of your lips before screwing the cap back on again. 

“you didn’t take your acetaminophen, um, tylenol, with dayquil did you?” he asks as he sets the drink on an adjacent table and turns back to face you. you shake your head no and his shoulders relax as he comes down on his knees next to you.

“good girl,” he hums, and you worry your face is even redder than before -- if that’s even possible. your heart races when he utters those words, and you shift your gaze to the ceiling in unanticipated nervousness. you thank yourself for falling sick when you feel your cheeks turn a shade of pomegranate red, and it feels like your skin is singed from your own emotional response.

“are you hurting anywhere else?” he asks you, and you briefly close your eyes as you try to register a way to explain your pain to him. when your eyelids open, spencer’s tender gaze meets your tear-soaked orbs. 

“everywhere,” you gasp. as soon as you speak, you feel an acidic taste bubble up your esophagus, causing you to gag. 

“spence, i- i’m gonna vomit-” you barely manage to let out as you rush to the bathroom, bending over to throw up.

spencer’s right hand gathers your hair and lightly bundles them up in a makeshift ponytail, while his left picks up the stray strands of hair that manage to escape his large grip. you stretch your arm so your sweaty palm presses against the wall, and you grip tightly when illusory stars dizzy your vision.

when you finish, he helps you to slowly get up, one hand on your waist and the other holding your arm as he guides you back to the couch.

you soon feel the tears start to fall, leaving wet speckles on your boyfriend’s arm. he brushes them away as he cups your face, reassuring you with words of comfort.

“it’s okay, you can take all the time you need,” he whispers, worriedly pursing his lips as he surveys your rosy cheeks, tear-stained eyes, and irritated nose. 

when you lay back, a layer of sweat presses against your back and his gauzy shirt sticks to your skin like hot glue. spencer's gentle hand rubs up and down your shoulder, before it drags halfway down the trail of your arm.

even more softly, your boyfriend suggests, “do you want to try some acupuncture? while we wait for your body to clear the infection, we can try to reduce your symptoms through natural techniques. there are various acupoints for exogenous fever, and it might help to apply some pressure there.” 

you nod slowly. at this point, you’re willing to try anything to relieve even the smallest ounce of pain. spencer takes the opportunity to lift you in a sitting position once again, turning you to sit facing away from him. 

he then lifts a thumb and approaches your back, finding the indentation just below the bump of the middle of your spine. when he lightly applies pressure, a whimper leaves your lips and you lightly grip the sides of the couch. he wordlessly repeats this three more times before moving up to the nape of your neck, where he applies pressure in a circular motion. a defeated groan escapes your throat as you’re weighed down with his intolerable tenderness. you try to withhold yourself, to lump your sounds in your lungs like they’re a clot, but it’s a feeble attempt, one that encourages spencer to keep going. but he knows. despite how unfiltered and raw your cries are, they are not desire, not in that sense.

“acupuncture… it’s an excellent way to promote blood circulation as it stimulates flow through the body. targeting certain acupoints could help to reduce congestion, as well as relieve headaches and neck pains that are often associated with fever," he muses as he moves further down your spine again, lightly applying force in areas that soon subside from burning pain into relief. 

spencer feels that there's a sense of logic to the way you move underneath his touch; the way your chest heaves euphorically in and out, the way you gulp for air between the rubs, and the way you shudder quietly. all of it fascinates him.

“but,” your boyfriend breaks his short-lived silence, “that’s not what i want to talk about right now." spencer lightly grunts as he shifts his weight by kneeling on one knee, placing his hand on your forehead to check your temperature again.

“i want you to explain why you didn’t text or call me.” his tone is a cautionary one, and it makes you slightly nervous.

“I didn’t want to disturb you. and… i wanted to surprise you,” you truthfully reply, avoiding his gaze.

he lightly chuckles before playfully poking your cheek.

“forget about the surprise. any time you’re sick like this, i need you to tell me. okay?” he taps each of his fingers across your arm and your hand lightly twitches with the gentle contact.

when you don’t respond, he raises a brow at you.

“that’s an order, y/n.” 

you dispiritedly return a yes before he nods in approval. 

“you look beautiful regardless of what you wear, y/n.” he makes sure not to come too close to you when he speaks, aware his warm breath could make it uncomfortable for you.

“you don’t have to lie, i look terrible right now.” you try to look away, but his gaze follows you as you move.

“what are you saying?" he frowns. "you’re so strikingly beautiful, it hurts when i have to see you in pain. i hate seeing you sick like this because you smile less. and i love seeing you smile,” he speaks dreamily, his lovestruck eyes glazing over yours like the two of you are interchanging blessings.

“okay, doctor reid,” you say half-sarcastically, but you smile when his thumb grazes your cheek. spencer grins in response and buries his face into your neck, his soft hair tickling against your cheek. you burst out laughing, but your sudden movements cause your face to contort into pain as you cough.

spencer pulls back almost instantly, laying a hand on your shoulder and telling you to breathe. when you both recollect your breaths, he gets up and stretches his arms.

“tell me when you’re feeling ready for a bath, i’ll set it up for you.”

he stands beside you, watching as your chest rises up and down with your timed breaths. you smile contently before lightly pinching the side of his trousers.

“but i want to keep this shirt,” you say coyly, admiring the softness of the fabric as you trace the edges of the embroidered fbi logo.

you look up to see spencer blush as he scratches the back of his neck. 

“i’ll have a new change of my clothes for you.”

he then stoops to take away your now lukewarm cup of water before disappearing into the kitchen.

the things you do to him.

[gi4hao]

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ ˎˊ- comforting you after a bad day (vocal unit)

— pure fluff (mentions of food)

— CLICK HERE FOR THE HHU VERSION

— joshua

• all it takes is one text about how much your day sucks. one text and joshua comes to pick you up from work himself

• and you’re so surprised to find him waiting in front of the building (with a small bouquet of flowers in hand) that you instantly tear up

• “day’s finally over, beautiful. let it all out”, he tells you as you hug him tight. and no he won’t let you apologize for being so emotional (he never does)

• once you’re back home, he gets to properly cuddle your bad mood away, which obviously makes you feel better in a matter of seconds

• there’s something about the way he strokes your cheek and interlaces his fingers with yours that makes you completely relax to his touch

• he just wants you to feel safe with him; safe from every single worry that this day has brought you. and you absolutely do, knowing that at the end of the day, he’ll always be there for you to rely on

— jeonghan

• lots and lots of communication: if you’re facing a problem, he’ll take some time to figure out a solution with you

• but also lots and lots of affection because he knows that’s what you crave

• i feel like he would offer to take you to your favorite restaurant, so that you can enjoy your favorite food without worrying about cooking or cleaning the dishes

• he’s also big on compliments. no matter what you do or say, jeonghan will have something nice to say to you. and he always makes sure not to only compliment your looks, because that’s not what makes him so smitten about you

• i also think he’d be the type to run you a nice bath when you get home, which may or may not include a shoulder rub because he knows (too well) that stress is never easy on your back

— seungkwan

• your problems are his problems.

• “she said what?!! ugh, i can not stand her, you’re such an angel for putting up with her bullshit everyday”

• so yes, he’ll be angry with you if you’re angry. but it’s a whole other story if you’re feeling sad (cue cuddles)

• he’d do this thing where he leaves so many tiny kisses on your temples that his lips practically never break contact with your skin

• would definitely hum a slow song to help you relax, and hearing the vibrations of his voice in his chest greatly contributes to the relief of any tension

• i think at some point he’d offer to tell you about his day, not to make the conversation about him but because he wants you to try and think about something else

• he’d pull out his phone while still keeping you close to him to show you the pictures he’s taken during the day; but you’d end up scrolling back to some old pictures of the two of you, which is probably the best remedy to any kind of sadness

— dk

• definitely an entertainer. making you feel better is a good start, but making you smile and laugh is the real goal here

• that being said, he’ll never dismiss your feelings. this man will dry your tears and kiss your salty cheeks before even attempting to take your mind off of what’s bothering you

• but once you start to feel better, he’ll make it its priority to entertain you for the rest of the evening

• so yes, he’ll blast your favorite songs in the kitchen and invite you to dance with him, in a way that’s way too formal for you to take him seriously

• he’ll grab your hand and spin you around until you’re so dizzy he needs to wrap his arms around your waist to keep you from falling (how convenient right?)

• and just the sound of him giggling as he kisses the tip of your nose is enough to make you forget every upsetting thing about your day

— woozi

• jihoon usually comes homes pretty late. and sure, he might not be able to immediately come home after you tell him about your awful day, but he’ll definitely tell you to join him in his studio

• there’s something inherently comforting about being in his studio. everything’s calm, organized and just so woozi-like, it’s automatically working its magic on you

• “wanna keep me company?” he asks with a smile, and you know this is just him asking if you want to sit on his lap while he works (and YES YOU DO)

• he’ll probably do some basic things on his to-do list while you’re here, that way he can focus on you too, listening to whatever it is you have to say and leaving a couple of kisses on your shoulders and cheeks if he feels you tensing up again

• i feel like he’d come up with some sort of date activity that you guys could do together on the weekend, like a day trip to the beach or dinner at a fancy restaurant

• you know he prefers to stay in during the weekends but as long as you’re with him, he’s home <3

[4pfsukuna]

Bed Peace

Debrief: Touch deprived and exhausted Terry always finds solace in your bed. Fluff

‘Curled up with my head on your chest is the best remedy for the pain and the stress’

The first thing you notice when your eyes open is that you aren't home alone. You don't move though, instead just listening to the sounds fluttering through your apartment before noticing it's the early hours of the morning right before the sun rises and the sky is that wicked purple color.

The morning breeze flutters through the room making the curtains rustle,  goosebumps raise slightly on your skin, the brown silk sheets not helping to keep you warm. You settle for closing your eyes letting your head sink further into the plush pillows, scarf somewhere on the floor.

It's when the bed dips slightly and you feel a pressure on your lower abdomen that you finally relax. Being on edge for weeks not knowing if he was okay or where he even was. It's when your hands come down to the nape of his neck playing with the hair there that he sighs heavily, finally wrapping his arms around your waist, fingers curling into you as if you're going to float away if he doesn't.

As if this is just a dream that he's going to wake up from and be back in training.

As if this a dream and he’ll go back to the nightmare his reality turned into.

“I'm here” you promised, squeezing his arm watching the large man visibly sigh, one arm falling to hang off the bed as he begins to doze off the fatigue of the past few days finally catching up to him. Fatigue from constantly running, moving, planning, executing… PACING.

Running your fingers down his spine, the nape of his neck, ears, sideburns and even his hair for what feels like minutes but is actually hours and in your own way this was your version of how he curled his fingers around you to really make sure he's there. Not that he minds between falling asleep and basking in your soft touch does he notice how touch starved he actually is. 

The next time he wakes up is only 2 hours later the sunlight dancing through the spaces in your blackout curtains flashing through his eyelids. The heat of the morning sun warming up the parts of his skin you weren't still rubbing, caressing and it eases him again though he hates he can't stay asleep past the sunrise.

“Sorry i forgot to close the curtains” you whisper, reaching for it not expecting his hand to grab yours placing it back on his neck his own way of saying he didn't mind… as long as you kept touching him.

And when he doesnt feel your hands moving on him he lifts his head green eyes looking unreal in the morning sun, fucking perfect. Flawless skin, pretty and thick lips… who was talking about who?

“Just say you wanted to see my eyes in the sun” he teases watching as you smile a small giggle erupting past your lips before he pulls the curtain closed this time laying on your chest. He's quick, wrapping and arm around you, his hand sliding up your shirt fully locking you in place and you aren't even sure who's holding who any more as you tangle your legs in his and that's when he really sighs.

It's like you were holding him down, keeping him grounded.

“Missed you” he murmurs into your neck inhaling your scent of strawberry vanilla unfamiliar since he was so used to your coconut scent. He keeps inhaling, holding you tight each time he does.

“Stop it” you giggle pushing him not that it does anything from how tight he's wrapped himself around you.

“You smell good” his morning voice rasp and it takes everything in you not to shudder. It's probably for the better if you couldn't see his eyes right now. And it's silent for a while. you almost think he dozed back off until—

“Really missed you” 

“You're safe with me, it's just us. You and me” you promise and it's your turn to squeeze him tight. 

“You can stay right here. Just lay right here. Everything is okay right here” you soothe running your hands down his cheeks over his broad shoulder feeling the gauze pad and then his spine— another gauze pad.

The sadness fills your heart for him and the way that THIS is the only thing he wants. The only thing he needs.

“You can stay right here” you squeeze tighter, pulling a soft groan from him as he nuzzles further into your chest.

“Just lay right here” your hand runs over his head caressing and stroking with your thumb his eyes closing and just focusing on your words and the feeling of your body against his.

“Everything is okay right here” you promise, leaving a kiss on his forehead running your hands over his hot skin once more before the two of you slowly doze off locked in another unable to move.

[freedomfireflies]

How Many?*

Summary: An extra for One for the Money*

The one where Mr. Styles has had a rough day, and fucking you hard and slow is his only remedy.

(Inspired by this softdom!harry prompt!!)

Word Count: 1.8k

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞You are so much more important!*

“Shit, honey. I know. I know, Peach. Stay still for me, yeah?”

You nod quickly, lip between your teeth as your nails scratch down Harry’s back. 

You’re still getting used to his size. Always needing an extra minute or two to catch your breath, which he dutifully gives you. 

Normally, he eggs you on. Mocks your inability to take him. How your tight, little hole is just too tiny for him to fit through. How he’d ruin you before he even got halfway in.

But today is different. Today, he kisses your cheeks, your nose, your lips. Helping the seconds go by as he whispers, “Doing so good, my love. Feel so fucking good for me.”

You try to relax your mind, your body, your muscles. Wanting to feel him as deep as he can go more than anything in the world. Almost wishing he’d just drive himself to the hilt and wreck you if that’s what it takes.

He nuzzles into your neck, breathing you in. His heart is racing against your own and you feel your stomach flip.

It’s rare he lets you see the bad days. It’s rare he has them at all. But instead of hiding them from you—instead of hiding from you—he’d come home and taken you into his arms. 

He held you, and kissed you, and touched you. Gently brushed at your clit before mindlessly stroking through your folds. It was clear what he needed.

You.

And he has you. For now. For always. His body and yours connecting as one until his hips are pressing down into you. His cock now sheathed completely inside your cunt as you exhale a deep, strained, and pleasured breath.

You grab onto his ass and help roll his hips. Whimpering as the sensation in your stomach begins to build again. Soft and slow.

“S’a good girl,” he murmurs, and it’s so very heavy. Yet filled with relief. As if you’re the antidote he needed. As if you’re his remedy.

“Sir,” you whisper, nipping at his earlobe as he grabs onto your leg and hooks it around his hip. You follow suit, tossing your other one around him as well until your ankles can cross near his spine. Aiding in his slow but pointed thrusts.

“I know,” he says again, swallowing a groan as he rocks into you. “Fucking missed this. Missed this pretty pussy today.”

You make another noise as he suddenly nudges his nose against yours. Calling your attention to him.

“Missed you,” he adds gently before kissing you until there’s no air in your lungs.

And you can’t deny the leap in your heart from the thought. The idea that he thinks about you even when you’re not around.

His fingers dance between your bodies until they find your clit. Again, he presses and rubs in cruel but beautiful ways. Making stars scatter behind your eyelids as you gasp and arch from the bed.

“How many times should I make you cum today, hm?” he asks, glancing down at your overused and sensitive nerves. “Already came for me once. Or was it twice?”

Your head buries into the mattress as you struggle against the overstimulation, feeling ruined beyond repair.

“Peach,” he warns, pinching you tight and forcing a gasp to rip from your throat. “I asked you a question.”

“…twice,” you just barely manage to pant, skin incredibly warm. “Made me cum twice, Sir.”

“And how many times should I make you cum now?” he asks again, kissing the side of your nose sweetly. “Three? Four?”

The feeling between your thighs is expanding. Exploding. Making your nails curl into his skin until you’re sure you’ve drawn blood.

“I’ve always been rather fond of the number five,” he muses before suddenly pressing his thumb into your clit and watching as yet another orgasm tears you apart from the inside out.

You know he wants to be proud of the way he’s teased you but feeling you cum around his cock is always his favorite part. And you can see that euphoric haze dance across his face as he sucks in a sharp breath and releases your clit so he can slide his thumb into your mouth.

You suck it with purpose. With appreciation. Whimpering from the taste and the warmth of his hand. Letting your tongue explore the digit before settling him between your lips contently.

He balances his weight on his forearm to keep you satisfied. Continuing his gentle thrusts as you come down from the rush. “You okay, honey?”

You hum quietly, head nodding as you keep his finger snug in your mouth.

He seems pleased. “Gonna give me another one?”

Posed like a question but you know you have little choice. He wants five orgasms from you, and he won’t stop until he either gets them or you safeword. 

So you motion your agreement once again and release his thumb. “Yes, Sir.”

He grins. “Good fucking girl.”

With that, he kisses you, and delivers another sharp thrust. 

He finds a familiar rhythm, uncurling your leg from his hip so he can press it into the bed. Needing a deeper angle before he’s slipping an arm beneath your back and lifting you altogether. 

You cry out his name, grateful the cameras aren’t rolling so you can use his real name. The one that melts from your tongue like butter on pancakes. Warm, and soft, and so deliciously sweet as you say it again just to hear it.

You feel a shiver roll down his spine at the sound. At the feel of you around his twitching cock. 

“Harry,” you breathe just to see his lashes flutter. “Harry, please…please.”

In any other moment, he’d chastise you for the use of his name during a scene. Cameras or not. But today he needs it. Today he craves it.

You feel his muscles quiver under the weight of your adoration for him. He’s too far gone in his idea of you to think straight, and the dominant man you’ve come to know dissipates into the lover you cum for.

He returns to your clit as tears return to your eyes. You’ve always been sensitive. Perhaps too sensitive, especially right now as he works on your fourth.

“Please…please,” you gasp, writhing beneath his hold until he has to use his weight to keep you still. Pressing your body into the mattress until you have no other choice but to take the continued pleasure. “Sir, please—”

“Does it ache, honey?” he coos gently, glancing down at the way your body reacts to his touch and overstimulation. The sensitive nub much more swollen than it was before. “Sting?”

You nod fervently, lip tugged between your teeth until the taste of metal fills your mouth. “Can’t…can’t…can’t—”

“You can,” he murmurs. Firm yet oddly comforting. “You can, Peach. Daddy needs you to cum again. S’gonna help him feel better. And you wanna help him, don’t you? Help him feel better?”

He knows how to play you. Knows how to encourage the response he wants, and your skin is on fire as you squirm beneath his hand. 

“Yes,” you pant before glancing up at him through tear-stained lashes. “Yes, Daddy. Want you to feel better.”

And you do. To the point that you’d endure hours of torture and overstimulation if it made him happy. 

So you allow him to pinch, and pull, and rub until you’re beginning to sob. And you don’t mind because you know he’s watching and monitoring each reaction. Making sure that he never gives you more than you can handle.

But then you feel that strange and somewhat rare blooming in your chest. The kind that makes your eyes roll back into your head as you grab onto his shoulders and gasp.

You don’t have time to warn him. Don’t even have time to understand what’s about to happen.

But he does.

He’s seen this look on your face before and this is exactly what he’d wanted. More than anything, and the smirk the spreads across his face when he feels the rush of liquid over his cock is incredibly smug. 

“There you go,” he coos, glancing down to watch the way you squirt for him. The way you soak his thighs, and hands, and stomach. The way you drench yourself and douse the bedding beneath in your arousal for him. “Just like that, honey, keep going. You’re okay.”

You’re whimpering so hard, your throat is sore. But he loves it. Indulges in each needy whine and groan as you melt under the weight of his strong frame.

You’re still sobbing, cheeks wet and warm. Hair matted to your forehead and skin sticky.

It’s the most beautiful look in the whole world, and he can’t help the rush of pride and appreciation he feels as he gazes down at you.

He slows his thrusts to allow you just a moment of reprieve, hand coming up to stroke down your face lovingly.

“Shh,” he whispers as you hiccup. Thumb tenderly brushing at your tears. “You’re okay, Peach. Did so good for me.”

You try to reply but your chest is heaving with more cries. “S’too much…too much, Sir—”

“I know,” he hums, cupping your jaw and dipping down to kiss the tip of your nose. “I know, baby. M’really pushing you, but you’re doing so well. Almost done, yeah? Just need you to cum for me one more time. Want you to cum with me.”

You begin to shake your head, the idea almost too much, and you catch the worry in his expression. 

“Do you need to stop?” he asks now with an air of seriousness. “What’s your color, my love?”

You pause to catch your breath, allowing yourself enough room to decide. “It’s…it’s green.”

“Green,” he repeats but he’s unconvinced. Brows furrowing as he studies you. “Are you sure?”

You sniffle a bit before nodding slowly. “Yes, Sir. It’s green. Just needed a second.”

“You can have all the seconds you want,” he tells you, pressing his lips to yours caringly. “If you need to call yellow or red—”

“I don’t,” you insist, suddenly overcome by the fear he might stop. And you know he will. “I don’t, Daddy, promise. Was just a lot.”

“I know,” he says again, beginning to smile. “Know squirting takes a lot out of you, hm?”

You nod again and nuzzle into his palm. “Yes. But I’m okay now. Really.”

He regards you carefully, searching for any signs of deceit. “I need you to be sure, Peach. You’ll hurt Daddy if you lie to him.”

“M’not,” you whimper, turning to kiss his hand as if to solidify your promise. “M’really not. Wanna feel you cum with me, Sir. Need it. Need it, Sir, please—”

Your begging has always had this innate ability to turn his brain to mush. And it seems that hasn’t changed as a certain expression passes over his face and his thrusts begin to pick up once again.

“Yeah?” he murmurs, sliding his hand down to your throat. Squeezing it gently, yet enough to make you feel secure. 

You sigh contently as you dance your hands down his spine, taking hold of his beautiful ass to help him along. 

He smirks.

“Then let’s get that number five.”

Next Part:

~ Yellow* (Extra)

~ Full One for the Money Masterlist

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

Credit for the incredible and perfectly peachy dividers to @firefly-graphics!!

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @kathb59 @iamjustaholeforyousir @buckyssbestgirl @harrystylesfan2686 @cherryluvhobi @narry-heart @daphnesutton @uniquesexything @amateurduck @ilovec0lbybr0ck @winterrays @milfrrynation @definegirlfriendsx @allthelovehes @amiets2 @nega-omega @sucker-4-angst @hsgucci94 @gills-lounge @kennedy-brooke @avasversion @stylesfever @saturnheartz

[crimsonbubble]

Triple Bliss

cw. nsfw, afab!reader, poly hohong, dry humping, voyeur joong, semi clothed sex, implied oral, brief use of 'pup' *not proofread, just pure horny

[I'm not gonna say how I got here]

Stress gets to everyone. And everyone has their own way to relieve it. Some workout, some cook or bake, some draw or paint, some just need a nice meal.

But Yunho, wholeheartedly believes that sex is the best remedy for stress. So when Yunho came home with tense shoulders and a clenched jaw, it was game over. He dragged you up the stairs with him, taking note of the sound of the shower running.

He hastily pulled you into him, his grip tight on your hips. He pressed your back into the bed, desperately rutting his hips against yours. He moaned shamelessly into your mouth, letting you swallow down every sound that he made. His hips stuttered against yours, pressing his cock against the soaked cotton of your panties.

He parts from your lips, seeing the lewd string of saliva that connected your lips. Yunho kissed down your neck, nipping at your skin as his hands fumbled with your clothes. He hooked his thumbs into your shorts, tugging them down your legs. He throws them carelessly on the floor, keeping his focus on you.

With your legs wrapped around his waist, it was hard to tug his sweatpants down but the insistent push of his cock against your cunt made your legs weak. Yunho couldn't care less about taking your underwear off, so he just tugged the fabric to the side revealing your slick pussy for his perverse viewing.

Yunho smacked your pulsing clit with his tip, slipping his cock through your wet folds. Your back arched into him as he pushed in, your nails digging when he bottomed out. Yunho pressed chaste kisses along your collarbone and neck, as he slowly rocked his hips.

Your thighs twitched and tightened around his waist, your hands intertwining with his as his pace picked up. Yunho pressed his face into the crook of your neck as his thrusts became harsher. Yunhos hand left yours to hook your legs over his arms. He pressed further into you to shift your legs closer to your chest.

The new position made you feel him even deeper, unable to do anything but lay there are take it. You threw your head back as your first orgasm of the night ran through you. Yunho has no intentions of stopping just yet, his hands holding your waist as you tried squirming.

The shower had long since turned off, but you two are too entranced by one another to notice Hongjoong leaning against the doorway to the bathroom. It was only when Hongjoong walked over to you and turned your head to him that both of you finally realized he was here.

Joong quicker a brow at you as your eyes trailed down his half-naked body. There were still water droplets cascading down his skin from his wet hair. The tent under his towel was hard to miss, considering it was practically eye level with you. Yunho groaned at the way you suddenly clenched, eyeing the way you looked at Hongjoong.

Yunho tugged at the towel, watching your eyes widen comically. "You'll do better with your mouth, than with your eyes. Go on, don't keep him waiting, pup."

[lyvhie]

love your fics so far, maybe you could make some haechan fluff? like, just reader telling that she loves him 🥺

sweetener | ldh

boyfriend!haechan x gn!reader

summary: you just want to show your boyfriend how important he is to you.

a/n: hiii, anon! i'm sorry it took so long, i did not forget about you!!! i hope you like it <3. guys, let's just pretend i'm not late to haechan's bday? thank you vm thank you.

cw: fluff, a huge use of "i love you" bcs... i love him i guess i'm sorry guys, a little tiny bit suggestive at the end, pet names (& lmk if i missed smth!).

you were utterly exhausted, overwhelmed by your job's demanding nature. all you longed for was the warmth and security of your boyfriend's embrace, the comfort of his presence.

a weary sigh escaped your lips as you fished the key from your pocket, unlocking the door to his apartment. "hyuck, i'm home," you murmured, tossing your bag carelessly onto the couch before heading to the bedroom in search of him.

he was there, already clad in the softest clothes he owned and lounging on the bed, engrossed in some amusing videos he had stumbled upon. yet, hearing your voice call out his name, he quickly switched off the screen and sat upright, eagerly anticipating your arrival.

"hey baby, there you are," he greeted, a warm smile spreading across his face as he opened his arms, ready to envelop you in a comforting embrace. you forced a weary smile, your exhaustion palpable. without a moment's hesitation, you gently flung yourself into his arms, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

"hi, love," you whispered softly, the vibration of your voice echoing against his skin as you cuddled close.

he let out a hearty laugh, amused by how quickly you came to hug him. he then tightened his hold around you as he effortlessly toppled back onto the bed, his hands gliding gently up and down your frame as he whispered softly into your hair.

"rough day?" he softly inquired, his touch a soothing balm against the weariness that clung to you.

"that would be an euphemism," you sighed, your breath fanning against his neck. "my boss has been a pain in the ass," you continued, nuzzling closer to him. "and being apart from you just adds to the misery," you murmur, your voice tinged with a hint of longing. "seriously, what could possibly be worse than that?”

he playfully tilted his head to the side, his arms cinching snugly around your form, pulling your body tight against his own. then, he released a theatrical sigh, his voice laced with mock distress.

"oh, how shall i ever recover from learning the depths of your yearning for me throughout the day?” he cupped your face on his hands. “what possible remedy could exist for such a woeful separation?"

you let out a lighthearted scoff and rolled your eyes at his words, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "instead of making jokes, you should be helping me recuperate from the long hours we spent apart," you responded with a cheeky glint in your eyes.

he chuckled softly, his affectionate teasing evident as he responded, "oh, how foolish of me to deny such a request from my needy love,” he then leaned in, planting a tender kiss on your lips, making your heart flutter. the kiss lingered for a sweet moment, leaving you blissfully content. "did that do the trick for now?”

you stood there, silently watching him with an adoring smile, as if beholding the most precious treasure in the world. "what?" he asked, his eyebrows raised in slight confusion. "why are you looking at me as if i were a puppy in a box in the middle of the street, and you desperately wished to take me home?”

you couldn't help but burst into melodic laughter, shaking your head gently as you cradled his face in your hands, your eyes drinking in every detail of him.

"i'm just thinking about how much i love you," you murmured softly, your thumbs tenderly caressing his cheeks. "seriously, i love you so much, babe," your eyes glowed with sincerity, a love-filled gaze that seemed to radiate from within. "you make me so happy, make me feel like the luckiest person alive to have you by my side. it's..." your voice trailed off, searching for the right words, but struggle to find them. instead, your thumb continued to gently caress his cheeks as you sighed, "surreal."

he was surprised by how romantic you were suddenly getting for no reason, but he was happy to see that you felt so strongly about him. he wrapped his arms around you and rolled so that he was on top of you, his face inches from yours.

“well, you make me so happy too,” he kissed the tip of your nose. “you make me so goddamn happy, you have no idea… i’m so madly in love with you, it’s honestly insane to me,” his laughter, a joyous sound, filled the air.

you followed him closely, your smile filled with tender affection, your eyes practically turning into hearts. "me too," you echoed softly. "i am madly, uncontrollably in love with you," a sweet giggle escaped your lips as you added, "you're absolutely amazing, my love. i adore every single thing about you. i love you with all my heart.”

he smiled down at your words, loving the way you were looking at him and the absolute sincerity in your voice. his heart was basically melting right then and there, he couldn’t get sick of hearing that you loved him, he needed it to fuel his days.

“baby... you’re not being fair you know, i’m supposed to be the one making you feel like that, not the other way around…” he laughed softly and kissed you once more, trying to get you to stop with all of the compliments

"no, it really isn't fair," you agreed, chuckling softly. "i feel like i don't express my love for you enough, and i should be telling you how much you mean to me every single day,” you sighed softly and gently squished his cheeks, looking into his eyes as you continued, "you're truly amazing, and that's putting it lightly. god, i love you so much it's ridiculous!”

“okay, okay, i get it!” he began peppering kisses over every inch of your face, saying in between each one, "you love me," he moved on to your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, and the corners of your mouth, adding, "you really, really love me,” then, he kissed your lips once more, pausing and grinning before continuing, "i'm incredible. you're in love with me,” another kiss. "you're obsessed with me." another kiss. "you want to marry me.”

he chuckled softly as he finished with a playful grin, leaning in and pressing one final kiss on your lips before you could say something back, this one lingering for a few moments. his lips moved against yours, prolonging the touch before he eventually pulled away, a soft smile still on his face.

this time, it was his turn to bury his face in the crook of your neck, his voice soft and muffled as he mumbled against your skin, "are you okay, love? why are you suddenly so affectionate?"

he had grown used to your sweet, comforting nature, yet he could never quite shake his surprise at how attuned you were to his emotional needs. you always seemed to know exactly when he needed a few kind words to ease whatever worries or concerns he was grappling with.

you let out a lighthearted giggle, gently stroking his hair with your fingers. "of course i’m okay," you reassured him. "i just felt like telling you how important you are to me!" your voice softened even more as you continued, "because i love you so much, and you absolutely deserve to hear it as often as possible!”

“god, you are such a cheeseball,” he teased, smiling and nuzzling his face in your neck as you scratched his hair, absolutely relishing your love and attention to him. "i'm the one who's incredibly lucky to have you by my side, even when i'm not being the best partner i could be. thank you for staying, thank you for believing in me.”

his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he nestled against you. "i don't deserve you," he murmured into your skin. "you’ve stood by me through everything, and i’m thankful every single day for having you in my life. i don’t know where i’d be without you, honestly. you make my life so much better by just existing, you know that?”

you pulled him away from your neck and pinched his cheeks. he playfully winced, his voice laced with feigned agony. “alright, alright, i get it!" he chuckled, placing his hands over yours to stop your actions. "and here i thought i was being poetic!"

you laughed and rolled your eyes. "i'm serious, though," you said, trying to keep a straight face despite the smile that threatened to overtake it. “you're everything i could ever want and more. you make me feel loved and cherished every single day, and i wouldn't trade our time together for anything. you're perfect, and i don't want to hear another word about you feeling undeserving. you're mine, and i wouldn't have it any other way.”

he looked at you in silence for a few seconds, a sly smile forming on his lips. then, he spoke up, his voice dropping to a sultry tone. "you know how sexy you sounded right now?" his eyebrows raised, and he continued, a playful glint in his eyes. "honestly, i’m tempted to throw away all our plans for the night and skip straight to the bedroom instead.”

with a light-hearted chuckle, you playfully pushed him away, making him roll onto his back in the bed.

"we're already in the bedroom, you dummy," you teased, still laughing as you climbed off the bed. "and no," you continued, sticking out your tongue playfully, "we're going to stick to our agreement. i'm going to take a shower, and then we'll watch dramas together. no exceptions.”

he whined in protest, making a dramatic show of complying. "fine, fine," he grumbled, rising to his feet and following you into the bathroom. he wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.

with a playful smirk, you raised your eyebrows as his lips found your neck. "umm, excuse me, sir," you questioned, a hint of jest in your voice. "what are you up to now?" you inquired, enjoying the feeling of his soft pecks on your skin.

he pressed against your neck, nuzzling softly. "since we're both being so affectionate today," he began, his voice dripping with charm, "why not show you how much i love you? and no worries, i won't be skipping our night of cuddles, dramas, and snacks. instead, we'll simply... take a shower together. nothing more, i promise. just want to keep the closeness going.”

you knew very well that when it came to showers with donghyuck, there was always more to look forward to than just washing up. but who were you to complain, really? and besides, there was no way you could deny the growing heat in your chest or the way your heart skipped a beat at the mere thought of his touch.

you paused for a moment, pretending to consider his suggestion before replying with a playfully stern tone. "alright," you agreed with a mock-serious expression. "but let me make this clear: one wrong move, and i’m kicking you out of this shower. you heard me?” the smirk on your face betrayed your actual feelings, and both of you knew that your threat was an empty one.

he chuckled softly at your warning, his hands roaming over your body with a teasing touch. "oh, really?" he responded with feigned disappointment. "and here i was thinking you'd enjoy some extra attention," he sighed exaggeratedly, acting as if he were conceding. "but i suppose i'll have to behave myself then," he agreed, his voice dripping with playful compliance. either way, he wasn't worried. he knew you couldn’t resist him.

[fatuismooches]

HIII!! First of all I wanted to say that i love your blog and your writing! it brings me so much comfort :(( ANYWAY I WANTED TO REQUEST SOME CUDDLING HEADCANONS AND MAYBE A SMALL SCENARIO WITH DOTTORE?? fluff!! yknow just sleepy cuddles <3

It wasn't often that you woke up to your husband in the same bed as you. Of course, at this point, you were used to Dottore's absence, but nothing could quite fill the void that you felt when you rose from a cold bed. And although you did bother the other segments for affection to your heart's content, even they found themselves many times too busy to entertain sleeping in with you. Still, you were just happy to be with them and cherish the soft moments that happened whenever they did.

However, a habit of yours that had developed whenever you were feeling the lack of attention, was slipping into your husband's (or a segment's) room and snuggling on his (not very comfortable) bed. If you were being honest, Dottore's bed, much to your dismay, didn't really smell like him very much, for a simple reason - he rarely ever lays on it. An easy remedy to this, however, was just to steal one of his shirts. The scent was very... Dottore-like, something that oddly brought comfort to you.

On this particular day, you easily made your way into his office - empty, unfortunately, but not too surprising. He was probably in that lab of his as usual. Regardless, as you entered into the connecting (very bland) bedroom, you immediately made yourself at home on his bed. In fact, it was exactly how you left it a few days ago, messy and tussled, meaning that Dottore certainly hadn't slept on it again. Perhaps he didn't even enter his own room for that long. Your urgent words for him to rest only got through his thick skull once in a blue moon. Regardless, you pulled the blankets up and curled into them, eager to preserve the warmth, and too tired to fluff the pillows a bit more before you fell asleep.

When you woke up, the first thing you noticed was that you were a lot more warmer than usual. And then, when you tried stretching to pull off a bit of the blanket, your body's movement was strangely constricted by something else. Plus, it felt like it was a lot earlier than when you usually get up. Your sleepy mind had just barely begun processing the situation when a sudden voice abruptly woke you up a lot more.

"Go back to sleep." The voice was a bit deeper and gruff than usual, but undoubtedly, it could only belong to one person, which made your heart start racing with excitement.

"Dottore!" You immediately began wiggling in his arms, trying to turn around and see him, sleepiness still holding your body hostage, not to mention how tight his arms were. "Let me see you," you complained.

"Stop moving around," he grumbled some more. "Now is not the time I wish to entertain you." And yet he languidly began to nip at the nape of your neck. But that reminded you - for him to be in bed was already a rare occurrence, and from his voice, it sounded like he was genuinely sleeping. This was... excellent news, so you probably shouldn't push your luck.

"Fine," you complied, relaxing your body once more. A wave of sleepiness hit you despite your energy from a few moments ago, but you ignored it. "What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here?" Dottore parroted, as his sharp teeth continued to dig into your skin. "I come back to my room and find my bed occupied by someone who wasn't invited. The question should be, what are you doing here?" You could only sheepishly laugh as you remembered everything.

"Well... you should know your room is mine too, you know! Besides, to make it even, you're welcome in my room anytime too!~" Dottore clicked his tongue, but it was obvious to you he didn't mind your intrusion in the slightest.

"Regardless, go back to sleep. You are tired." Despite your attempts to stifle your yawns and hide your drooping eyes, your husband had noticed it all too well.

"Don't wanna," you quickly protested. Before he could open his mouth again (and perhaps teasingly threaten to help you sleep) you spoke again.

"If I go to sleep again now, when I wake up, you won't be here anymore, will you?" You didn't need to see his expression or wait for a response to know the answer to that.

"So let me do as I please, Zandik. Let me be with you." Let you bask in this moment, fully conscious of what is going on, being able to feel and process his skin against yours and more, for you would hate to be unable to remember this gentle encounter.

"... Do what you wish, but don't bother me when you're too tired to do anything." His seemingly annoyed statement was betrayed by his arms tightening around you.

"I will." Your response ended the line of conversation, a comfortable silence now taking over. Needless to say, you wallowed in his strong back pressed against yours, his callused hands against your own, a long lock of blue hair tickling your neck. You made sure to take note of even the most minuscule details before it was time for life to resume.

What existed at this moment was merely two human beings, so similar yet so different, with their troubles and masks discarded to savor the presence of each other.

[drabblesandimagines]

Pinned

Leon Kennedy x reader, established relationship, fluffy

“Leon,” you huff. It feels all the air had been knocked out of you from when he tackled you down to the mat for the umpteenth time. He has your hips trapped flush to the ground with his thighs, your arms spread out above your head as he pins each wrist in place.

“What?” He grins, not having the good grace to even pretend to be out of breath.

“You’re meant to be teaching me how to get out of this.” You try and buck your hips to get some sort of leverage, but he squeezes his thighs together to stop you – the man never misses leg day.

“Yes, but to teach you how to get out, you need to know how it feels to be trapped first, right?”

He’s inches away from your face and all he can think about is how easy it would be to kiss you right now. Your face is flushed, chest heaving up and down as you try and catch your breath. He’d be a liar if he didn’t admit to enjoying having you in this position. Something about you squirming under him – his poor, helpless sweetheart.

“I think you’ve demonstrated the pinning part of the exercise well enough.” None of the self-defense tricks you’d learnt years ago seem to be dislodging him – your opponent far stronger than the average attacker, perhaps.

“Edwards wouldn’t have given you the full experience.”

You stop trying to push him off and look up at him, a knowing smile on your lips. You’d mentioned over dinner the night before you were going to be late home this evening - that Edwards, the man who sits opposite your desk in the office, had offered to go over some techniques with you after you admitted you were feeling a little rusty. Leon had looked offended at the idea, insisting the two of you would hit the gym instead after the day was done. “You’re jealous.”

“And whatever would I be jealous of, sweetpea?” He looks annoyingly smug.

“I don’t know – possibly the idea of another man straddling me.”

“Nah, I know it’s only me that could get you this flustered.”

“Frustrated, you mean.” You renew your efforts of escaping his grasp, trying to buck your hips again to get to throw him off balance but he proves once again unmovable. “Ugh!”

“Oh, you’re not flustered. Hm.” Leon replies in a teasing tone. “Well, let’s see how I can remedy that…”

You’re about to ask what he means when he starts his assault of pressing his lips along your jaw line in quick succession, once again stealing your breath. You swear you can feel the arrogance in his kisses, but that self-confidence had been part of what had attracted to you to him all those months ago, before he revealed a sweeter, softer side behind closed doors – something he claimed that you brought out in him, reminding him of a time when he wasn’t a government weapon.

You catch your breath, flexing your fingers in a test to see if his iron grip had loosened any, though the tense muscle of his bicep suggests otherwise. He stops, chuckling into your cheek. “Baby, you know I’m good at multitasking.”  

And then he moves down to your neck, nipping and sucking at your skin in alternate kisses, apparently on a mission to cover every single inch.

“Though enjoyable,” your voice is tight as his lips find your throat, “I don’t understand how this is helping me learn.”

“Oh, no, this isn’t part of the lesson." He mumbles. "I was just getting bored.”

You bristle, you want to let out of a grunt of annoyance, but all that comes out of your mouth is more of a whimper and that won’t do at all. Leon S Kennedy is not going to win this, you’ll never live it down otherwise. With renewed vigor, you jerk down your elbows towards your shoulders and follow the momentum to try and buck your hips once more, forcing him to break his grip on your wrists. You enter into a roll then, raising up your knee, pressing it into his chest to keep him at a distance and then yanking his arm forward with enough pull to bring him along with you, your other hand pressing into his shoulder until he is now straddled between your legs. You grab his other wrist and smile in triumph.

“You were getting bored?”

“Knew you just needed a bit of motivation.” He grins up at you, not even fighting the grip you have him in. You knew that he could easily break free if he so desired – there’s only ever going to be one of you who will win in an arm wrestle, after all – but he’s gracious in letting you have your moment. “I’m an excellent teacher, sweetheart.”

“An excellent tease.” You correct, keeping your gaze focused on his face. It would be far too easy for your eyes to drift down to the compression shirt he was wearing to train in.

“Sure you’re not getting bored now?” He lifts up his neck in an invitation, biting his lip as he looks at you.

You sigh, catching sight of the clock on the gym wall. “Nice try, Kennedy. Come on,” you let go of his wrists and climb off of him. “But there’s a class starting in under ten minutes and I don’t really fancy sharing your moans with them.”

He jumps up to his feet – unnecessarily so – before he presses a kiss to your temple, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you close as he does so.

“Now who’s jealous?”

-- Self-indulgent nonsense cos I'm feeling poorly - bleh. Comments, likes and reblogs make my whole day x

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi

[2-dsimp]

Can I request Yandere siren venti angst (like with a reader whose trying to hunt down mermaids and sirens for their scales ) for the Mytherials event, if you have time

A Sirens scales———————————

Yandere siren! Venti x hunter reader

————————————～—————～——————～———————～

【Cw: yandere tendencies, imprisonment, delulu venti, toxic relationship, slight angst】

————————————～—————～——————～———————～

“Oh honey it’s a virtue of mine to value freedom, but where do you think you’re going?”

Venti cooed, his lax feature’s sharpening into a grimacing smile as he noticed his darling chipping at the chain which encased their ankle.

“ The only way to the surface is to swim through this lagoon and I don’t think you have the lung capacity for that”

His head was peeking out from the watery surface of the underground lagoon. And he swam fluidly towards the spot where he held you captive surrounded by a shimmery circle of his blue iridescent scales.

“We had a deal… And this wasn’t part of it. I didn’t sign up to be your damn cave decoration”

You spat, a look of scorn apparent as you couldn’t help but berate yourself for being so dumb as to break monster hunter rule 101: To never trust the words of a siren, lest they drag your soul to depths of hell. But you were desperate for the money since you had a sick friend to take care of.

“Awe sweetheart don’t demean yourself like that. You’re no decoration but my lovely mate after all”

The siren purred as he emerged fully from the body of water to cast a wet hand against your cheek. Admiring you in your entirety, his touch that was gentle soon became all consuming after hearing your adamant rejection.

“What’re you talking about? I never agreed to become your mate. Just let me go home.”

You retorted as you continued to make work of the chain. While actively shying away from his slimy touch. The stark scent of sea salt made you nauseous.

“Don’t say that. You are my mate sweetie. Weren’t you the one to say that you wanted my scales to begin with?”

Venti tried to rationalize with a small chuckle as he started to apply pressure when he cupped both your cheeks. Sharp nails dug into your damp skin while he directed your gaze to his crazed ones.

“So why are you trying so hard to deny it?”

He asked, his voice was hollow as he stared deeply into your eyes with wide blown slits. You had to have known what accepting his scales would entail. So why couldn’t you understand that you guys were meant to be? He gave you his scales did he not? So why, were you trying so hard to constantly reject his advances.

You didn’t need to go back to the surface. Not after all the struggles you’ve told him about with your stay up there. What kind of lover would he be if he were to allow his precious human to be exposed to the dangers beyond his reach.

“Oh I know what’s holding you back! It’s that friend of yours isn’t? What’s his name, Ah it’s şçæřämœćħè right?”

Venti begrudgingly sounded out his name in clear distaste and didn’t know whether to laugh or sneer from how you immediately perked up at the mere mention of another man’s name. He couldn’t help but feel an envious bout of jealousy boiling deep within his gut. Well at least he knew what his priority should be, if the only thing tethering you to the surface was your friend then perhaps he could remedy that.

“Well rest assured your pretty little head darling! I’ll make sure to take extra care of him so sit tight I’ll have to make some trips”

In the end sure he did twist his words a little when he struck a deal with you, who seemed to be down on their luck. Promising you his scales in exchange for your prized company. Since he’s always been enamored watching your daily pathetic attempts at capturing a siren.

But he did uphold his end of the bargain did he not? He made sure to pluck out his scales and pile them around you enshrouding you in their glimmering shine. So it’s only fair that you start acting like a proper mate for him since he’ll be expecting a cave full of his guppies in the future.

[nauticallyhypnotical]

can i request sebastian teaching a shy f!farmer how to touch herself after learning that he's her first serious boyfriend (with a bit of a praise kink sprinkled in?)

Even though you and Sebastian had been dating for a few weeks, the two of you hadn’t really had a whole lot of time to yourselves as a couple. You were going to remedy that—tonight, you had made special reservations for a new sushi restaurant in Zuzu City. After that, you were going to take him on a romantic moonlit walk through your favorite park, and then bring him back home to your farm. You were quite nervous, as you were still a virgin and wanted to impress Sebastian. You neglected to mention to him on the ride into the city how long you spent getting ready, mulling over various outfit choices in front of your wardrobe and rhetorically asking your dog, Clover, for advice on what to wear. Eventually, you settled on a skin-tight purple dress adorned with little gold stars, the sleeves drooping loosely down your arms. 

You’d wanted him to think you were pretty. Needed it, more than you needed the air you breathe. Your heart just about burst out of your chest when he picked you up from the farm, his chocolate brown eyes lighting up when he saw you, his voice gravely and low as he says, “hey, sweetheart, aren’t you just perfect?” 

Embracing him on his motorcycle as you rode the highway into the city made your skin feel as though it were on fire, or frozen solid, or maybe both at the same time. You felt electric as you clung to him, arms wrapped tightly around his chest. Even with a helmet on, the smell of his cologne wafted into your nose, and you inhaled deeply. He smelled like the embodiment of autumn, with notes of apples and cinnamon, and it drove you crazy with desire. You almost laughed at yourself, the fact that you waited so long to have him and now that you did, you were too scared to do anything about it.  

Sebastian noticed your apprehension during dinner after about the third time of you blushing and looking away the second you two made eye contact. He looked at you endearingly with a smile on his face as you acted as shy as when you first met him, and he reached a hand across the table and encompassed it around yours. You nearly jumped out of your skin from the unexpected contact, and you timidly raise your eyes to meet his.  

“What’s got you so worked up, doll?” he asked, his husky voice sending a shiver down your spine. You pondered for a moment on what to say. 

“I just...I just wanted this night to be nice, but I can’t seem to get my nerves under control...” the vulnerability was making your heart pound, and your whole face felt like it was on fire.  

“You’re my first boyfriend, I'm basically just winging it over here because I don’t know what to do,” you looked away at that, unsure of what Sebastian must think now that he knows how inexperienced you are. Instead of pulling away, he just rubbed circles on your hand with his thumb. 

“Who said this wasn’t nice?” he finally said after a moment of silence. You met his gaze. 

“I’m eating my favorite food with the world’s most beautiful girl; how could this not be a nice night?” He let go of your hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.  

“And if I'm your first boyfriend,” he murmured, a rosy blush dusting across his cheeks as he stares longingly into your eyes, “I have to make this a night you won’t forget.”  

After paying for your meal, Sebastian took your hand and the two of you walked down the still bustling streets of Zuzu, the city that apparently doesn’t sleep. You took the opportunity away from your shared friends, as much as you loved them, to really talk with Sebastian about things you really couldn’t say in your tiny little village. You talked about why you really left your old life behind to start over in a town so small no one really knows about it, and he opened up to you about his troubled family life. By the end of the conversation, your dislike for Demetrius grew stronger. 

As the cool crisp air chilled further and conversation slowed naturally, you began to really focus on the sounds of the city. You were intrigued to hear the faint thumping of music coming from what should be an abandoned Joja Co warehouse. Outside the door, a big man was standing by, arms crossed over his broad chest as he watched any passersby.  

“Wanna check it out?” Sebastian asked you, matching your curiosity. You nodded, and he led you over to the door. You assumed the big man was eyeing you down as you approached, if his eyes weren’t obscured by black sunglasses. You wondered how he even saw anything, wearing sunglasses at night. 

“Password?” the man said gruffly. Sebastian made a point of briefly checking his surroundings before leaning in and whispering “midnight serenade”. The bouncer rapped on the door twice before stepping to the side, allowing whoever was on the other side to open it for them.  

“How did you-?” you asked. Sebastian just shrugged and gave you a mischievous grin. 

“Lucky guess,” he said. Inside the warehouse, they were immediately enveloped in a world of dimly lit ambiance and pulsating music. There was a surprising number of people, some of which were very engaged with the party lifestyle. Sebastian led you to a corner of the warehouse that was less crowded and invited you to dance with him. You had two left feet, but that didn’t stop you from accepting his proposal. The two of you laughed as you allowed the pulse of the music to fill your veins, fueling your movements. For the first time in a long time, you felt uninhibited, and you wondered how long the feeling would last.  

Yoba, it seemed, had other plans.  

The party was rushed by the ZPD, or Zuzu Police Department. Apparently, Joja Co did not appreciate occupants in its unused warehouse, even if they had no plans to do anything with it.  

With hearts pounding and adrenaline rushing through your veins, you find yourselves swept up in the chaos, frantically weaving your way through the crowd as you try to evade the authorities. You swiftly exit the warehouse through a side door and race through dimly lit alleyways to get as far away from there as possible. 

You’re still laughing when you finally reach Sebastian’s motorcycle, still parked in front of the sushi restaurant, now long closed.  

When you finally reach your farm, you ask him if he wants to spend the night, and it makes your heart flutter when he doesn’t hesitate to say yes.  

You get inside, and you both collapse on your sofa, tired from the day’s events. You instruct Sebastian to pick out a movie to play on your old box television while you toss some wood into the fireplace and get it lit, quickly returning to cozy up to his side.  

As the movie plays, and the fire crackles in the background, he lets his fingers trace idly along your arms, causing goosebumps to rise to the surface of your flesh. You nuzzle into him, and a gasp escapes your lips as his hand roams upwards, caressing your neck and threading through your hair. You can barely concentrate on the movie as Sebastian lightly scratches your head, and you grasp at his shirt when those slender fingers of his wrap around a lock of your hair and gently tug. He pulls your head back and exposes your open mouth to him, and with the movie now forgotten in the back, his tongue is sliding against your own. He brings his other hand up to cup your face, and a heat blooms deep within you. You maneuver your body until you’re straddling his hips, and with his hands now free he uses them to slide up your dress until they rest on your hips, his thumbs massaging in slow circles.  

The moment you pull away from him to catch your breath, Sebastian looks at you with lust in his half-lidded eyes.  

“How far do you want to take this, tonight?” he asks you, his voice low and full of desire. You blush and shy away from his gaze, now noticing the abundantly clear hardness forming underneath you. You bite your lip and slowly roll your hips against his, relishing in the way Sebastian inhales sharply at your motion.  

“Well,” you begin to say, “I’ve never done this sort of stuff before...Maybe you can show me what to do?” Sebastian groans when he hears you say that, and he buries his head in the crook of your neck, licking and sucking on a spot that made you feel ticklish. He grips you harder as you writhe around on his lap, arching your back so your chest presses against his. He detaches himself from your neck just long enough to pull your dress up and over your head, and he takes a moment to admire your beauty. You felt self-conscious under his gaze, so you instinctively moved to cover your chest with your arms, but his grip on your wrist halts your movements.  

“Don’t hide yourself from me, princess,” he commands, his authoritative tone making you drop your arms. You allow him to unclasp your bra, spilling your breasts out. He grabs them with both hands and begins to massage them while pinching your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. You’re moaning at his touch, and he watches you with amazement. 

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” he asks, leaning forward to place a kiss on your chest. He grinds his erection into you with his words.  

“You’re so, so perfect, baby,” he says between kisses. You squirm delightfully with his praise, needing it more than life. You realize that all you want to do is make Sebastian proud as you bring your hands up to card your fingers through his soft, dark hair. He looks up at you with a soft look before taking your lips in his own, releasing your nipples to grab your thighs and reposition you with your back on the couch. His fingers hook under the waistline of your panties, and he fervently removes them.  

Sebastian pulls away from you to stare at your fully exposed body, your face flushed and chest heaving as you pant for air. Your legs are spread with him in between them, one dangling off the couch, and he takes one of his fingers and drags it slowly along your slit. 

“Shit,” he hisses, bringing it up to his mouth to taste. “You’re so fucking wet for me.” 

“Is that good?” you ask shyly, and he chuckles. 

“Oh, sweet girl, yes. You’re so good for me,” he coos. His words of affirmation are so important to you, your hips twitch upwards in response. You spread your legs wider, allowing him to get a better look. 

“I want you to stick a finger inside, can you do that for me?” he instructs. You nod, sliding your hands down your body and using your left hand, you spread your lower lips wide. With your right middle finger, you tease at your entrance and push inwards, gasping lightly as you curl upwards.  

“I want to hear you, baby girl,” Sebastian says. You begin to whine as you pump your finger in and out of you at a slow pace; he doesn’t take his eyes off you for a second as he unbuckles his belt and unzips his trousers, pulling them off his body leaving him in only a t-shirt and boxers. He finally releases his hardened cock from its pitched tent, its tip dribbling a small amount of precum. He wraps his hand around his member and begins to masturbate, nearly choking on his words as he manages to sputter out, “p-put another finger in.”  

You do as you’re told, slipping in your ring finger, while using the digits on your left hand to rub your clit in circles. You feel pressure building up inside you, like a thread waiting to snap, the heat in your body feeling as though you were set aflame. You’re rubbing on a spot inside that has you seeing stars and feeling high. You chase that feeling, hoping Sebastian knows how hard you’re trying for him, and soon that thread finally snaps with your climax as you cry out your performance.  

“Good girl,” he says with a predatory tone, and when you pull your fingers out of your twitching vagina, he’s lining himself up at your entrance. He grabs your wrist and makes sure you’re paying attention as he cleans your release off your appendages. He’s pushing into you as he licks you at the same time, the lewdness of it all causing your already flushed cheeks to deepen in color; you felt hot, everywhere, and the overstimulation of your senses was causing your peak to rapidly build back up. Sebastian clutches one of your breasts with his free hand like you might slip away if he doesn’t keep hold of you. 

“Can you cum again for me, sweetheart?” he asks once he releases your fingers with a wet pop! You whimper as you shake your head. 

“I-I don’t know if I can, Seb,” you manage. Sebastian flashes one of his crooked, toothy grins that made you fall for him.  

“Aw, course you can, sweetheart. I'll get you there,” he purrs, and he cradles your head while leaning down to slip his tongue in between your parted lips. He’s massaging the muscle against your own in tune with his thrusts, and the hand playing with your boob now grips onto your fleshy hip. You’ve never felt closer to Sebastian, but still, it’s not enough. You need him deeper; you need him to never leave your side again. 

This time, your orgasm crashes down like a wave, an ecstasy like you’ve never felt flooding your whole body. You tremble and shake against him as all you can do is whimper into his mouth. He swallows up every last sound, his own moans better than any song he and Sam could produce. It doesn’t take long for him to follow, and he pulls out to finish on your chest. He rests for a moment, catching his breath. 

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he finally says. 

“I’ll grab a towel, get you cleaned up,” he’d been to your house countless times with Sam and Abigail, so he was quite familiar with the layout already. It didn’t take long for him to return with a rag, but it was enough time for you to doze off. Sebastian looked down at you fondly, and cleaned you up slowly, admiring his handiwork. When he was satisfied, he grabbed a blanket from your bedroom and crawled into the sofa behind you, draping an arm over your waist and holding you through the night. 

[nana-au]

𝐈 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄...

 𝜗𝜚 Satoru Gojo Prince AU ♡ part five

 𝜗𝜚 Summary: satoru spends his days distracted until the new chef comes up with a possible remedy to his worries. story summary based off of this drabble

𝜗𝜚 Warnings: mentions of weight loss due to depression

 𝜗𝜚 wc: 2,765

𝜗𝜚 an: this part will immediately be followed up with a strictly nsfw part. it is skippable and does little to the story building. it is just intended to add some yearning and build up to the prince's emotions. thank you all for your patience!

┊p1┊p2┊p3┊p4┊p5┊𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠... p6┊

“It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it, Prince Gojo?” the Princess hums, following by his side. The sun beats down on the couple as they walk around the small pond of a local park, sweat and humidity clinging to their skin. The Princess fans herself, looking up at the Prince as his head stays forward, focused on the view in front of him. His eyebrows are furrowed in thought, barely noticing the people passing by who are enthusiastically greeting the two. “Are you feeling well?” she asks him, with no response. He’s distracted - acting as if he has something better on his mind than her small talk. She puffs out her cheeks, the skin turning red as she greets the passing crowds for the both of them. Her fan picks up speed, batting her eyelashes while awkwardly looking around before deciding to clear her throat unusually loud. It’s then Satoru looks down at her, eyebrows still furrowed and lips in a pout. “Is there something on your mind, Prince Gojo?” she asks him respectfully, all though exasperated by the effort. 

“It’s quite hot,” he tells her. His white strands stick to his forehead; the pale skin of his face appearing dewy in the sunlight, slick with his perspiration. He looks uncomfortable, the long finger of his right hand digs into the collar of his shirt tight to his neck, tugging it away from his throat. 

“Well, maybe we should get you home,” she suggests and he nods, clumsily clasping their hands together as he leads her to their carriage. 

𝜗𝜚

The ride to the palace lasted a lifetime for the Prince, and if it wasn’t for the Princess wishing Satoru a good rest of his day, he would have forgotten to see her off. He kisses her gloved hand, thanking her for accompanying him on his stroll before walking off, taking the steps to the palace two at a time. Her brows furrow, confused as she watches the Prince hurriedly ascend the stairs before getting in her own carriage to take the long trip home. 

Satoru marches through the halls of the palace, his racing thoughts unsatisfied by the scene he witnessed earlier that morning. Upon discovering your daily schedule (something that took Satoru only a few days), he thought very little of his disruption to the kitchen staff - too distracted by the opportunity of getting to see you. He knew it was wrong, and it never did anything to benefit his terrible mood, but like clockwork Satoru paid you a visit twice a day. Once in the morning and once at night. Typically you did nothing noteworthy; you spent most of your time labeling fresh herbs or peeling pounds of potatoes all while avoiding eye contact with him. But some days you did something different. Like this morning - when he found you side by side with that blond man he was growing to loathe, watching as he julienned carrots with award-worthy technique and precision while Satoru stood awkwardly - only able to watch. His day was set up to be poor from the start. 

So while he couldn’t maintain a simple conversation with the Princess on his date, he knew he also wouldn’t be able to maintain focus on any of his responsibilities. Not until he went back in the kitchens to get a look at you undisturbed. It was unrealistic for you to be working because Satoru took note this was usually your scheduled lunch time but he knew it would be pointless to continue his day without checking - just to be certain.

He all but groaned when his visit didn’t grant him the image he desired; instead coming face to face with the man he was hoping to avoid. “Good afternoon, Prince Gojo,” Nanami bowed, putting down the knife he was sharpening to greet the Prince. Satoru didn’t bother to entertain his polite greeting, choosing to turn around to make his way to his study. “Are you looking for her?” the man asks, stopping Satoru in his tracks. He turns around, meeting Nanami’s eyes for the first time. He doesn’t so much as shift under his gaze, something Satoru wasn’t used to as he studied his face. His eyes were warm, looking at Satoru with an emotion he couldn’t quite place. From Nanami’s point of view, the lanky Prince looked disheveled. His under eyes were purple and his hair was sticking up in every direction. He knew the reason the Prince insisted his personal servant was too useless to simply procure him a glass of water wasn’t because Peter was incompetent; but because Satoru needed an excuse to see you. He had heard far too much from you to be blind to the Prince’s tactics, and if you weren’t going to do something about it, he was sure going to try himself. Satoru begins to wordlessly back up, almost as if he doesn’t trust where the conversation was headed - choosing to avoid it all together when Nanami interrupted him one last time. “I could give her your message,” the Prince’s eyes narrowed, “Perhaps a note?” Nanami counts on the Prince having years of experience in reading between the lines to understand what he was implying - but if Satoru realizes it he keeps it to himself, leaving the kitchens wordlessly to return to his study. 

𝜗𝜚

It’s dinner time when the Prince reconsiders the chef’s suggestion. The Queen requested Satoru’s presence in their dining room, citing the reason to be because of some much needed family time. Satoru couldn’t bother to stop his eyes from rolling back into his head. The Prince eats his full course meal in silence while his parents torture him with small talk: discussing the weather, the flowers in bloom outside, and the construction of a new fountain the Gojo’s did not need. Satoru slurped his soup and fiddled with the napkin in his lap while he beared the awkward tension that was eating as a family. His fingers ran along the smooth fabric of the blue napkin, feeling around the cloth material underneath his fingertips when he suddenly felt something foreign. It was the rough material of paper, his fingers clasped around it, tugging at it while assuming it was a tag of some sort. What he didn’t expect was for the paper to come loose, slipping right out with just one jerk of his hand. Satoru looks down, realizing it is a note and not a sewn in designer tag. He makes sure to keep it in his lap, squinting to read the small letters, ‘She needs to talk to you about that night. Without others being privy’.

“Satoru, is something wrong?” his mother asks upon noticing her son was preoccupied with his lap. 

He shakes his head, “No. Just spilled some soup,” he tells her, lips in a tight line. His under eyes are darker than before, but his hair is just as messy and his pale skin is still ghostly white. If she notices the wild look in his eyes, she ignores it, giving him an odd look before speaking.

“Well, that’s what the napkins are for,” she snaps her fingers, “Another napkin for the Prince, please,” she requests and the servants are quick to remove Satoru’s napkin from his lap. He clasps the note in his fists, making sure to conceal it before thanking the man who replaces the cloth.

𝜗𝜚

Satoru doesn’t let the note leave his grasp for the rest of dinner and it doesn’t see the light of day until he makes it to the desk in his study. The Prince looks down at it, obviously knowing the owner of the sliver of paper. He begins to pace, leaving the note on his workspace while he crosses the room. He nibbles on the skin around his nail, chewing the tender skin to distract from his racing thoughts while he considers what the note meant. It implied you had something more to say than what you had admitted in the stables - but someone was holding you back. His mind reeled while he considered what you could possibly be keeping inside. It was entirely irrational and made little sense - but he leaped to the worst conclusion first - believing you had made a special friend, and that they didn’t want you to have contact with him. His entire body began to shake, picturing somebody keeping you all to themselves. Keeping you from Satoru - who tried as he might - cannot fight the entitlement he feels towards you. You were his first. You would always be his - no matter what anyone tried to erase. The ugly green monster he kept buried deep flared to life in his chest. He huffed, shoulders shuddering with each heaving breath that did little to tame the creature fanning the flames of his hurt. He knew he would finally lose it all if that was the announcement you had to make. So for his sake, he had to imagine something else. Something more realistic. He continued to think about what could possibly be the reasoning. Perhaps your confession was that you were scared of the opinions people could have on you beyond the walls of the castle. That you would make an awful Princess and even though Satoru despised the idea of you feeling so self conscious; so unaware of just how special you were… it had to be the reason. Your shared kiss in the garden must have awakened your feelings - and brought on the unpleasant emotions of feeling unworthy to the throne. Scared of the possible backlash and perhaps worried about what the other servants would think of you - you kept your true feelings to yourself and lashed out at him, hurting Satoru in the process. He began to calm, rationalizing his worries with something he could stomach. For now, he chose to believe that had to be closest to reality. 

So while the tides of his anxiety lowered he made his way to his desk, tearing off a small piece of parchment paper and scrawling his message:

‘Why did you leave me?’

𝜗𝜚

Satoru stalks through the halls, rounding each corner with a purpose while he makes his way to the kitchens - desperate to get his note to you quickly, dying to read your response. To anyone he would look unhinged; hair disheveled and clothes hanging off of his lanky frame while he all but ran through the palace.  When he makes it, Nanami is there in his usual spot, sharpening his knives. Upon entering, the blond man inclines his head - silently greeting the Prince while Satoru approaches his workspace. “How do I know if I can trust you?” He all but huffs out, hands shaking in the pockets of his trousers. Being a Prince, he was used to people bending over backwards to appease his every wish but this was different. It puzzled him to try and understand why he would get involved in something that didn’t concern him. It left Satoru weary. To Nanami, the Prince looked like a man that had gone mad - and if Nanami wasn’t offering to put himself on the line he could maybe judge the trembling Prince in front of him. 

“I don’t think you have any other choice,” Nanami replied. A silent agreement began to form between the two of them - both deciding to put their faith into the other while they stood frozen. Satoru made the first move, taking the note from his pocket and sliding it across the smooth metal table. Nanami only nodded, pocketing the note in the breast pocket of his coat and picking his knife back up, diligently sharpening it against the smooth stone tool. Satoru was gone as quickly as he arrived. Nanami chose to retire for the night soon after. But not before paying you a quick visit.

𝜗𝜚

There’s a knock on your door late into the night. You sit up in bed, bookmarking the page you were reading before shuffling over to greet your unexpected guest: and unexpected Nanami was. The broad-shouldered man wastes no time slipping into your room, closing the door softly behind him and towering over you while you stumble back to give way to him. The door quietly clicks shut, leaving the two of you alone in the dim light of your bedroom. “Nanami?” you question him, voice laced with confusion upon seeing the chef at your quarters this late at night. 

“Don’t be mad at me,” is all he says, pulling the note from his chef’s coat and placing it in your delicate palm. Your eyes squint down at the sloppy writing on the torn paper, breath catching upon recognizing the handwriting. You would never be able to forget the familiar scribble of Satoru’s penmanship. You look back up at the blond, observing the look on his face that indicated he had something to do with it. 

“What is this?” you ask him, shaking your head in disapproval. “Nanami - I couldn’t possibly-” you start but he cuts you off. 

“But you want to…” he murmurs, his soft eyes meeting yours. “You could tell him the truth… without anyone finding out,” he tells you, “No one would have to know.” You shake your head again, scoffing at the acknowledgement that Nanami was willing to put his reputation on the line for you. “I know it’s been eating you alive,” he tries to reason with you. There’s no mirror in your tiny living space but if you could see what Nanami saw you would be eye to eye with the ghost of your former self. Gaunt and colorless. You looked sickly - almost like the light inside you was dimming to nothing the longer time passed without the Prince. 

You shake your head, feeling queasy at the idea of causing trouble for yet another person - all to satisfy your ridiculous craving... just to feed the hunger inside of you that yearned for the Prince in every way imaginable - against the betterment of everyone around you. “He can’t know,” you wince, almost like it hurt you to turn away the delicious offer Nanami was supplying you. 

“He’s set to be engaged,” Nanami calls out your name, trying to snap some sense into you, “At least tell him the truth before you never get another chance,” his voice is as desperate as the thoughts in your head. 

“He could never go through with it if I did this…” you trail off, scared to acknowledge the fact Satoru would drop everything for you. He would turn his back on all of his responsibilities - on his family’s wishes - on the kingdom’s best interest. You knew this - no matter how cruel you could possibly be to him. No matter how much you ignored him; he would never truly be satisfied without you; and all though he looked close with the Princess, you knew the hurt you held inside was twisting his own fragile and tentative actions into purposeful, deliberate engagements with the Princess. He craved you with every fiber of his being. That’s why you couldn’t give him hope - you knew he already had it deep down. And if you confirmed how you felt he would stop at nothing to get his way. No matter who he had to tear down to get it. No matter how many lives he’d put at risk in the process. Your mouth grew dry at the thought.

“Ultimately it’s up to you,” his shoulders dropped, knowing that it was only your decision to make, “The option is open as long as I’m here,” he promises, gently squeezing your hand to make a fist, covering Satoru’s note. “Think about it,” he says. Exiting just as quietly as he entered. 

𝜗𝜚

You tuck his note into your book and lay on your bed. Your nerves eat away at you - every inch of your body alive with anxiety. You promised yourself that the right decision was to leave it - that you needed to throw away the note and never entertain the idea ever again. But another part of you was unable to stop thinking about the opportunity of being able to communicate freely with Satoru - even if it was only one note. One note, you considered. Just one singular note to lessen your guilt and to hopefully ease Satoru’s hurt. You toss and turn in bed - picturing ways you could let Satoru know how you felt without sabotaging all those agonizing months you endured to protect your family. You head to your quaint desk, putting your quill to paper and letting not only your emotions, but your logic bring the page to life.

┊p1┊p2┊p3┊p4┊p5┊𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠... p6┊

taglist: @bubera974 𐙚 @dahliawarner 𐙚 @phoenixisdabest 𐙚 @designerpvssy 𐙚 @leaderwon 𐙚 @elilovesall 𐙚 @alicebleu 𐙚 @sleepykittycx 𐙚 @abcdbleh 𐙚 @waka-babe 𐙚 @fanficsforkicks 𐙚 @boothillglazer 𐙚 @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni 𐙚 @wrldwyde 𐙚 @michaelaftussy34 𐙚 @strawnanamilk 𐙚 @kalopsia-flaneur 𐙚 @megumisthirdog 𐙚 @hearts4aloise 𐙚 @theclassbookworm 𐙚 @saebaey 𐙚 @leabrainrot 𐙚 @leabrainrot 𐙚 @peqch-pie 𐙚 @lovedysmphoria 𐙚 @thejadeazalea 𐙚 @postmancat 𐙚 @vxrycooldude 𐙚 @sourairi 𐙚 @billiondollarworth 𐙚 @ratasticrats 𐙚 @waka-babe 𐙚 @crsdf4everr 𐙚 @kouyoumarryme 𐙚 @1sweetheart1 𐙚 @cccandynecklaces 𐙚 @freakygetou 𐙚 @kensqueent 𐙚 @cherryredribbons 𐙚

(ty for all the support! comment to be added/removed)

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #4] The Gym

warnings: a gym. no further warning. oh and jk is sexy but what’s new?

soundtrack: 20 something - sza, angostura - keshi

wc: 4.1k

bd total wc: 540k (on-going)

minors dni | AO3 | series masterlist 

Glancing down to the address that Hoseok had hastily scribbled on a piece of scrap paper, you sigh. It's a hearty one. Clears your lungs. Gets your blood pumping a little swifter. There's a weight to staying alive, and it feels like it might just crush down on your windpipe and suffocate you altogether.

Okay, so maybe you're being dramatic. Maybe this is fine. You tell yourself to 'get a grip', but you know it's useless.

It's not that you're nervous - except for the fact you completely are - you just don't like the idea of gyms. They remind you of your ex a little too much. 

More specifically, how he'd force you to go along with him, and how you'd whine and moan, but spend the entire time laughing with him. How he'd lift you instead of weights. How he'd tell you that you look 'far too hot' in a pair of leggings and sports bra, and the way you'd keep them on until you got home just for the simple pleasure of him being the one to take them off.

So, yeah. You don't like gyms. Avoid them when you can.

Partially because you don't know which one he goes to anymore, but mainly because it feels like you can't breathe whenever you see a pair of shoulders almost broad enough to be his. There tend to be a lot of jacked guys in gyms. Makes it a more common occurrence.

Still, you've been trying to remedy that. Trying to face fears. Failing, but trying at least.

You swallow back the lump in your throat. Bite the bullet. Open the door. Easy. 

The girl at the front desk is potentially the most drop-dead gorgeous woman you've ever seen. Blonde, petite, a smile that could end wars. She's laughing with another member of staff - a trainer, you think - before he goes into a backroom.

You're a little unsure of yourself still, but she's glowing in such a way that it feels like maybe this could be okay. Nothing to fear. Plus who would even bother looking at a man's shoulders when someone who looks like she does is around? Far more captivating. Endlessly more appealing.

Her smile focuses on you as you walk towards her, brows lifted, eyes wide and open as if to say 'hiya! welcome!'. Her voice is just as chirpy as you imagine when she greets you.

"I don't think I recognise you," she says, questioning herself before she makes an introduction. "My name's Jiyeong, I'm a trainer here. Are looking to sign up for a membership?"

You shake your head and laugh a little awkwardly. You're not really dressed for the gym - a pair of sweats and a slouchy Carhartt tee. It's not sports gear appropriate for a place like this. Everyone's in skin-tight lycra, and they all look great wearing it. Makes you think that maybe you should try and get over this fear for good. Become one of those people.

"No, actually," you grimace a little awkward, voice sweet. You know you're gonna be asking for a favour, so try and fail to keep it short. Instead, you ramble a little. "I'm meeting someone here, but I don't have my phone - he's got it actually. Dumb accident. Long story actually, completely my fault - anyways, I was wondering if you'd be able to buzz me through so I could just grab it quickly? I'll be five seconds, in and out. Please."

It's at this point the corners of her mouth drop a little. Her lips press together. She's still smiling, but it doesn't reach her eyes anymore. "Hmm?"

"His name is Jeongguk," you begin to explain further - but then she smiles again and cuts you off.

"Oh, I don't think I know a Jeongguk?" She pouts a little. "Anyways, I'm really sorry but I can't let you through without a membership. Company policy. I really wish it wasn't the case, but they track the entry process."

You don't want to put her out. You've worked in customer service for long enough to know not to push company protocol. It's not worth getting fired over just to make a customer's life a tiny bit easier - and so you nod. 

"Of course, totally understand," you say as you glance over to the gate that allows access into the workout area. It needs a passcode. Can't even make a dash for it - although you're half tempted to when you see a couple come through the gate without a care in the world. It takes an absolute age to shut. "Do you guys do day memberships here? I literally just need to get in and out, but I'll pay for a day pass if I need to."

Something about Jiyeong is really throwing you off. She's smiling, and she looks like butter wouldn't melt, but there's a sourness to it all. There's no butter. Just curdled milk.

She winces apologetically. Shrugs. Brings her shoulders to her ears in a way you would have found sweet maybe five minutes ago. Shakes her head. 

"They're referral only. You'll need someone with a preexisting membership with you. But!" She chirps up. "We have a month pass you can purchase instead."

For all of your common sense faux pas, and the bad decisions that have led you here, you're not actually stupid. No gym in their right mind would actively try and sabotage their own earnings. She's spewing bullshit, but is somehow managing to make it smell like roses.

"A month?" You question, trying not to let your frustration show.

"Mhhm," she nods.

Her beauty seems to fade with every smile. Ironic, really. Her friendly demeanour is what had made her so attractive, and now it's shattering the illusion.

In any other circumstance, you'd say fuck it, and head home - but Jeongguk has your phone. 

You said you'd meet him here. You could wait until he finishes his workout but you have no idea when that will be, and you're still suffering from your hangover. You just want to get it over and done with, so you say, "Alright, I'll sign up for a month. No rolling contract."

"No rolling contract," she nods. "Okay. Just need a few details from you."

There's a form to fill out; payment details to be given. A box to tick: which trainer helped you sign-up? Small print: Trainers earn a small commission for every sign-up. Please ask for their name. 

You're half tempted to check another trainer's name, but she's watching you like a fucking hawk.

Should have just chosen the club. Would have been easier. Could have even made a night of it - it's a Saturday after all. But no, you and your tiny marble brain thought that the gym would be easier? Better?

Ridiculous. Hoseok had been right all along. It was the worst choice you'd made all week.

"You're all ready," she smiles as you lament the choices of your past self. She says a goodbye that sounds friendly but feels like a fuck you. You're not sure what exactly you've done to rub her up the wrong way, but you'd quite like it if you never rubbed shoulders with her again.

There's a mechanical whir as you enter a pin into the gate. It opens for you with a small beep, and you feel like your throat is closing up a little bit. There's a wrought iron staircase leading up to the weight area, the bottom level focused more on machines and cardio. A third floor is reserved for studios and private classes according to the signage, so you decide he's probably not there.

You don't know much about this man, but you have seen him without a shirt on. The weight area seems like a safe bet. 

There's an uncomfortable discord in your chest as you head up to the second floor, your black high-top chucks padding against the metal gently. Hair up, not even trying to pretend like you're not still hanging, part of you regrets dressing so casually.

Your skin feels all hot and clammy, and you know exactly why, but you try and convince yourself that it's just the hangover. That's all it is.

It'll pass, you tell yourself. In and out. You're alright.

Jeongguk notices you before you notice him. He's by the mirrors. Caught sight of you, your eyes all wide and worried - presumably in search of him -  as he was checking his form. Putting his weight down, he turns to face you a little more straight on, which is what draws your focus to him.

"Hey," he says a little breathlessly, a tone of surprise evident. He whips a towel over his shoulder, and you're reminded of how he looked behind the bar of Dionysus. Dabs at his face a little. Shakes his head to adjust the hair that is stuck to his forehead from his workout.

"What are you doing up here?" He asks tenderly, conscious of the fact you look like you've seen a ghost. He's aware he probably doesn't look his best, but he didn't think he looked that bad. "I told Jiyeong to let me know when you arrived. Was just gonna bring it down, save you the hassle."

"Oh," you reply, a little stuck on your words. The burning in your throat is subduing. The pressure on your chest feels a little lighter. 

"Sorry, I -" you begin, and then you remember who the fuck you are. You hate being like this. Hate when you get panicked. Hate that he seems to be looking at you with concern. Also hate that Jiyeong is apparently a massive dick, but you'll choose to be frustrated about that later. "I actually have a membership here."

Joy.

Jeongguk hums in surprise, head tilting, mouth forming a cute little 'o'. "You do? Never seen you here before."

Wonder why.

"Oh yeah, here all the time," you nod, because apparently Jiyeong isn't the only one who fancies being a big old liar today. And then you smile. Flirt. "Like, maybe even more than you."

Now, this he does raise a brow at. Smirks. Picks up his weight as he moves to straddle the bench beside him. He sits down and places the weight beneath his arms for something to lean on. "Not so sure about that."

He's wearing black chucks, too. Slouchy black tee. The only real difference is that he's in shorts. Your lips curve upwards, but you catch them before he notices.

"I'm just always downstairs," you shrug, playing off your little white lie like it's no biggie. "Surprised I haven't seen you about here, either."

You don't mean to be such an egregious liar, you're just embarrassed. Ashamed. Disconcerted by the fact you know you looked like a lost puppy when you arrived, and also how you know Jiyeong totally played some weird power move on you. You're not sure what to make of it. Don't like it, but also will likely never see her again. Not worth it. Not over some guy you don't intend on ever seeing again, either.

The logical assumption to be made is that she's involved with him in some capacity. Makes sense. He doesn't seem like the kind of guy to get lonely in the early hours.

Jeongguk accepts your bullshit. He knows it's bullshit because he does cardio as much as he does weights - anyone with an inkling of gym knowledge would be able to tell. He's sure you have your own niche, things that would win you points on a pub quiz, but the gym? Doesn't seem likely.

"Phones just in my locker," he tells you as he gets to his feet again, lifting his weight like it's a cup of coffee. You've no idea how much it weighs. Doubt you'd be able to make it look that effortless. "I'm just finishing up. Can you wait, like, five minutes? Or do you have places to be?"

His skin is dappled in rivulets of sweat. There's too much to take in visually, so you focus on his voice, instead. It's soft. Tender. Kind, you think. 

And so despite the fact there's no place you'd rather be less, you smile. Nod. "I can wait."

He nods back, says thank you, and gets back to his weights. He does a few more reps just to get to his daily goal, and then sets about clearing his area; puts the weights back on the rack, wipes down his bench. Runs his hand through his damp hair. Exhales a deep breath before turning to face you with a smile.

You wonder if he can notice the drool you've been trying not to let slip. 

He can't - but finds it curious how he didn't catch your gaze a single time during his final few reps. The gym is relatively quiet at this time of day, so there's no one in the immediate vicinity. Whenever he'd glanced in the mirror, your eyes were elsewhere.

One place in particular. 

The other mirror; one that's angled in such a way you can see his side profile. Jeongguk's aware of it. Had kind of positioned himself in line with it on purpose. 

"What's so interesting?" he asks and is met with a confused hum. Does he really think you're gonna admit to checking him out? Dream on. "You were just like... absorbed by that mirror. Good reflection?"

"Oh," you mumble, cheeks deepening in tone - and yet your poker face is just so good. "Was zoned out. Didn't notice."

He doesn't call you out on it any further. For all he knows, you could be telling the truth.

You wait for him by the entryway gate as he gets changed. Jiyeong watches you from the corner of her eye, being as discreet as she possibly can - but you can feel her eyes on you. In fact, she's as good at discretion as you were when you were watching Jeongguk work out.

When he finally emerges in a pair of grey shorts and hoodie, you smile. So does Jiyeong. 

He greets you. Ushers you through the gate. Says hi and bye to Jiyeong. Puts a hand on the top of your back as he opens the front door of the gym, but insists you walk through first. 

"How are you feeling today?" He asks as you make your way down the path that leads to the subway station. "Still rough?"

"That obvious?" You laugh. "Ouch. Thanks, dude."

"No," he laughs back. "You're forgetting I was the only sober person in my apartment last night. You drank enough to kill a person."

"That's not true," you accuse, before deflecting the blame. "Was all you and your Purple Starfuckers. Bloody lethal."

"Bloody brilliant," he counters. There's an ease as you walk side by side. You chalk it up to finally being out of the gym. Feels like you can breathe again. "Tell me you didn't keep coming back for more."

He has a point. You're surprised you didn't all drink the bar dry. But you simply laugh. Tap the crease of his elbow lightly with the back of your hand. 

He's smiling, too.

"Tell me you didn't keep giving me them for free! On the house! What kind of maniac turns down free drinks?!"

You've got a point. He can't argue against it - so instead he just gets a little argumentative. It's all in good fun. Shared humour. 

"Well then next time, you'll get nothing on the house, how about that? Not even water."

You snort a little, pushing your head back as you do so. You pass the first subway exit, with no idea if you're heading in the right direction for one another. Neither of you asks; neither of you declares. 

"Next time?" You scoff, still hanging. "I'm never drinking again."

"Heard that one before."

"I mean it. This hangover has written me off. Work almost killed me."

He wonders where you work. Wonders if the work is gruelling, or if you'd been able to recover in peace. He hopes for the latter. Would tease you if it's the former.

"You working tomorrow?" he pipes up. There's curiosity in his tone, but not enough for you to realise just how intrigued he is by you.

He's never seen a girl walk out on Jimin before. Ever. It's kind of remarkable. He wants to know why. Doesn't want to ask why, though.

You shake your head. "Day off." 

Thank god.

Jeongguk considers his options. He knows full well, walk-out or not, that you fucked Jimin last night. It adds complexity. Makes him unsure of his next steps. 

It's not like he's trying to get in your pants - he'd never hear the end of it from the boys if he went for Jimin's leftovers - but he'd be a liar if he said he didn't like your presence at the bar last night.

Not just you. All three of you. You've good energy. He enjoys the nights when punters are actually fun. If tonight is gonna be busy, he'd rather it be busy on his own terms.

"DJ's are doing a throwback theme tonight," he hums, and the way you stop in your tracks is beyond satisfying for him. He loves it when a plan comes together.

"Throwbacks, you say?"

He stops too, and turns to look at you with a slight air of nonchalance. There's a shrug to his broad shoulders, which remarkably don't remind you of your exes, his wide eyes soft as a subtle smile graces his lips. "All bangers."

"Define bangers," you challenge.

And oh, how Jeon Jeongguk loves a challenge. 

"Well," he says as he begins walking again. You follow. "Last time there were a LOT of old-school Taylor Swift songs."

"Keep talking."

"Timbaland, Rihanna - I'm talking proper noughties classics."

"I'm listening."

"Outkast, Coldplay, Arctic Monkeys-"

"Offt."

"-Kanye, Mika, you name it. One Direction, fuckin' anything. They'll play it."

"Do they take requests?"

"Well, no I didn't mean they'll literally play anything you name," he laughs. "But you've got an in." He points at himself, seemingly proud of that fact. "I can get them to play whatever you want."

"Offt, I love having friends in high places," you muse, to which he tells you to 'fuck off' with the biggest grin on his face you've seen all day. "I'll think about it. You on the bar?"

He nods. "I am indeed."

"Hmm. Makes it less tempting."

Jeongguk wants to fight back, but knows that he'd probably end up flirting, and it's not his intention - so he changes the topic. 

"Jimin might be there, too. A friendly face."

He doesn't notice the way your face scrunches up a little uncomfortably. 

"I'm not really sure that'll sway me," you tell him. "Was a one-time thing. Sorry about that, again. Waking you, I mean. Not cool."

You really do believe your words - after all, Jeongguk had been the one to return your phone, not Jimin. Chivalry is dead, and apparently men get their housemates to return glass slippers, these days.

It's kind of Jeongguk's own fault.

Jimin doesn't know you've lost it. Jeongguk hasn't told him. Isn't sure why. Didn't really think about it at the time.

"It's fine, really. And I've lived with Jimin long enough to know it's never just a one-time thing."

"I'm an exception."

"Believe it when I see it."

And suddenly you feel challenged now - but you're by the final subway entrance. You've walked past three exits already. Should have really taken the first. Couldn't bring yourself to end the conversation earlier. 

However, now that the conversation has turned towards the topic of Jimin, you find yourself less inclined to continue it. You'd rather not be reminded of your questionable drunk decisions in the cold, sober light of day.

"This is me," you tell him. 

"Ah." He stops walking. Pauses. Looks at his Chuck Taylor-clad feet as he stands in front of you. He's holding onto the strap of his rucksack as he asks, "So you'll be at the club tonight?"

When he looks up, he's nibbling down on his bottom lip—toying with his lip ring. There's a hesitancy to his words, as if he's afraid you might say no.

You pretend as if you're weighing up your options, shifting your weight from foot to foot, lips pursed. You know if you propose the idea to Hoseok he'll jump at the chance to get shitfaced again, and where the pair of you venture, Danbi will surely follow. It's inevitable that you will end up at Dionysus tonight. 

But you simply smile and say, "Maybe."

He rolls his eyes, and it makes you laugh. He laughs, too. It's sweet, the way his energy matches yours. There's an ease to your rapport. You think it must be incredibly easy to be his friend. 

"Promise me a free Purple Starfucker, and I'll consider it a little bit more," you bargain.

He runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek, as he readjusts his bag over his shoulder, shaking his head a little. His eyes are glossy, and dark, and you think they look just like black treacle.  

"Maybe."

"Okay then," you nod. "See you maybe, Jeongguk."

He nods back. "See you maybe, Disco Ball."

"I won't come if you call me a disco ball again," you shout back as you descend down the stairs, leaving him by the exit.

He chooses not to banter back, scared he could ruin the moment; make things awkward, somehow. Instead, he turns on his heel, and begins retracing his steps. 

His turning was three junctions ago. He'd carried on walking just to talk bullshit with you. He chalks it up to him being too awkward to cut the conversation off. 

See, he might like a challenge, but he's plagued by the realities of them, too. Hates the idea of people not liking him. Wants to be loved universally, so refuses to embark on endeavours that could prove otherwise. He's Mr What If, and he's quite content that way. 

Jeongguk's nearly by the first crossing when he hears you shouting after him. You're a little breathless. Panting. He knows there's absolutely no way you do cardio.

"Wait, wait!" You call all flustered and hurried. "Jeongguk! Wait!" 

He's already waiting. The lights are still red. You're too concerned by your own internal panic to notice.

"Phone!" You almost wail, before you laugh. Inhale. Rest your palms on your knees. Exhale. Look up towards him. "My phone, Jeongguk! You still have my phone."

"Oh, shit," he laughs, pulling off his rucksack and fishing about for it. Seems so stupid to have forgotten about it. His cheeks are hot. 

It's returned promptly, apologies tumbling from his lips like laughter is falling from yours.

"This was all part of your plan, wasn't it?" You narrow your eyes accusingly. "Was gonna keep it so I had to go to the club."

He raises his arms, hands next to his ears, palms spread open, as if he's holding a white flag. "You caught me."

But it'll be Jeongguk catching you later - or at least your gaze, as he reciprocates a knowing smile when you inevitably end up in Dionysus, ready to make all the wrong choices all over again.

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