#i kept getting butterflies on my stomach drawing this one

[yahllyn]

[iamnotoriginalphil]

Top of the Class (Professor!Agatha Harkness x f!Reader)

Synopsis: Agatha finally lets you sit in on one of her classes.

Words: 7.1k

Warnings: Student/teacher relationship, power imbalance, age gap (all 18+), praise kink, possessiveness, swearing, jealousy, mentions of cock warming, mentions of orgasm denial, mentions of overstimulation, mentions of spanking, edging, fingering (R receiving), choking, strap-on (R receiving), blowjob (R giving), degradation, hair pulling, begging, marking

Agatha’s hand was resting on the top of your head, nails scraping over your scalp as she petted you. Your back was pressed against the sofa, leaning against her leg, cheek resting on her thigh. You’d given up on the book in your lap, eyes closed, luxuriating in the feeling of her. You hummed, shuffling closer.

“Are you falling asleep, pet?”

Her voice was a soft hum, almost amused. You mumbled something, curling one arm around her calf, pressing more insistently against her. Her fingers gave one sharp tug on your hair, pain blooming over your scalp.

“Hey,” you protested.

But it wasn’t enough for you to draw away. Nothing could convince you to stop touching her when she was allowing it. Her warmth was seeping into your body. She wound a strand of your hair around her finger, tugging on it again, this time gentler.

“Are you going to sleep if I leave you here during my class?” she asked.

You buried your face against the muscle of her thigh, refusing to answer. She was not one to promote wasted time. Not unless it was to do something she wanted. Like laze around in bed all day, nothing but caresses and kisses and shared laughter.

“I can’t have you wasting the entire afternoon,” she warned.

“You’re the one who kept me up all night,” you grumbled.

“I didn’t hear you complaining at the time,” she said.

Of course you hadn’t. She’d had your arms tied above your head as she’d kept you on the brink long enough to drive you crazy. You were hardly going to tell her to stop when she was making you feel so good.

“C’mon, just one short nap,” you wheedled, “you won’t even be here to see.”

“Exactly. Don’t you think you should try and get as much work done when I’m not here to…” Her fingers tugged on your hair until you looked up at her, “play with you?”

“How am I meant to when I’m so tired?” you asked.

“If you want to spend the night in your dorm room, be my guest,” she said.

“No,” you said, so fast there was no way to play it off as anything but desperate.

“Then what do you suggest we do?” she asked, “since I clearly can’t trust you on your own.”

“You can trust me. I’m a good girl,” you whined.

“I know you try to be,” she said, fingertips brushing over the apple of your cheeks, “you try so hard. But sometimes you can’t help yourself.”

You whimpered, pressing closer. She lent forward until her breath ghosted over your skin. Her hair, usually wild and free, was pinned up and you could see the long column of her neck. It called to you, begging for your lips to attach to it, your tongue to taste her skin.

“Up here, pet,” she said.

Her finger tilted your chin up until your eyes met hers. The way she was looking at you had your stomach clenching, butterflies springing to life, fire sparking in your veins. It was full of such heat, scorching you, turning your head fuzzy.

“I’m not sure you’ll do as you’re told if left to your own devices,” she said.

“What do you suggest?” you asked, letting yourself gaze at her with undisguised desire.

“I think you’d better join me in class today,” she said.

“I should what?”

You eyes blinked up at her, stomach swooping. You’d never been given the opportunity to watch her teach. When taking one of her classes had felt like a pipe dream, you’d imagined the legend of a woman at a lectern. Now, knowing her, you knew it would ruin you to watch her.

“You need my watchful gaze on you, pet,” she said, “you might even learn something.”

“I promise you I won’t,” you said.

She chuckled, husky, from deep in her chest, making you tremble at her feet. Her knuckles brushed over your cheekbone surprisingly soft.

“And why’s that, pet?” she asked.

“Because all I’ll be able to think about is your mouth, and your fingers, and what you do to me,” you replied.

“And what do I do to you?” she asked.

“Ruin me.”

She seemed pleased with your breathless response, grinning down at you like you were her good little pet, like she was going to swallow you whole, like all your dreams were going to come true. You glowed for her, so pleased, shuffling closer. Maybe you weren’t going to be able to nap, but she was offering you the chance to show her how well you followed orders. You could be so good for her.

An hour later, you were following her across the campus, towards the small lecture theatre that attempted to contain her genius. The usual circle of space was given to the two of you, leaving you in your own bubble with her. It was how you preferred it, not letting the rest of the world in when you were with her. She was the world to you.

Inside the lecture theatre, a group of students sat scattered over the chairs. You watched, a rippling effect of straightening spines, eyes alighting on Agatha. Your Agatha. Of course she got such a response from her students. She was formidable.

Your eyes scanned over the crowd, watching the way they watched her. A few glances passed over your, a mixture of confusion and jealousy. Clearly your reputation had seeped into their collective consciousness, your special place in the ecosystem of Professor Harkness’s teaching career. Too many of them were watching her with an undisguised look of wanting. You recognised it, the same expression on your face when you saw her. The same expression she seemed to find amusing on your features.

“Go take a seat,” she murmured in your ear, her hand on the small of your back nudging you towards the stairs.

You nodded, mute, her breath on your skin raising goosebumps. Even in front of an audience, you couldn’t stop your reaction to her. She was something otherworldly, magical in how she made you feel. Like a magnet, you felt yourself drawn towards her no matter the distance.

You sunk into a chair at the back of the hall, where you could watch her and not be watched by any of her students. You wanted to gaze at her, drink in this moment, watch her in her element. You knew it would wreck you but you craved it, your destruction at her hand. Her eyes alighted on you, a fleeting glance, but you saw it from the tilt of her lips. She knew what she was about to do to you.

With your chin resting in your hand, you could gaze down at her. She waited another few minutes, the air turning electric with anticipation. She fiddled with the laptop, a powerpoint showing behind her. It was familiar, the picture one you’d poured over with her before, heads bent together over a book, close enough that whispers were all you needed. Her shoulder had been pressed against yours, long fingers tracing over the plate, spinning a story for you. When your gaze had inevitably crawled up her arm to her face, she’d already been looking back, blue eyes molten, taking in every single one of your micro expressions. She hadn’t let you kiss her until she was finished telling you the story, but you’d ached to since the first word fell from her lips.

The door crashed open, starting you. A windswept boy hurried in, calling out an apology to Agatha. Her lip curled and those blue eyes flashed dangerously. You watched each sure step as she sauntered over to him. Your stomach clenched and you thought you knew what was coming.

“What time do you call this?” she asked, voice quiet but ringing in the students’ silence. All eyes were watching.

“Sorry Professor Harkness,” the boy said, one hand pushing through his hair, ruffling it in what he must have thought was an attractive way, “traffic was crazy.”

“What did I tell you at the start of the semester?” she asked, head cocking to the side.

You could see him searching for the answer, the slump of his shoulders when he came up empty.

“I told you,” she said, bending down, both hands on the arms of the chair, pinning him under her gaze, “don’t bother showing up if you’re not serious about this class.”

“I am serious. I’m so serious. It was just-” he said.

“Traffic. So you said,” she said straightening up.

You watched him let out a relieved breath, relaxing back into the seat. Agatha turned on her heels and you held your breath.

“Get out,” she said.

The boy stiffened.

“But I am serious,” he argued, “you know I’m serious about this class. I need this to graduate.”

“You should have thought about that before you were late,” she said, not even looking at him to add insult to injury, “everyone was informed that I don’t accept late arrivals. Either show up early or not at all.”

He stood, face going a splotchy red.

“Bitch,” he spat.

She was slow to turn and you could tell from the set of her lips that she was angry. Hidden, secret, not obvious unless you’d spent a lot of time with her, you weren’t sure any of the students realised. The boy certainly didn’t. He had no idea how deep in shit he was.

“You’re going to have to try harder than that if you’re hoping to hurt my feelings,” she replied.

“It’s one minute. What’s it matter?” he demanded.

“The second you start allowing standards slip is the second you give up. I have no interest in teaching burn outs. Get out of my class,” she said.

He stared at her for a moment before he snatched up his bag. His stomping footsteps echoed as he left again, under the watchful gaze of the rest of the students. The door was loud as it slammed shut behind him.

Your thighs clenched together under your tiny table, breathless, mouth dry, heart thundering. Blue eyes found you and the warmth in your cheeks was for no one but her.

“Does anyone else have something they wish to add before I begin class?” she asked, voice carrying through the room.

Quiet negatives came from every corner of the room. You couldn’t look away as a smile spread over her face.

“Good,” she said, “then let me tell you a story.”

You settled back in your seat, the familiar story washing over you. You didn’t need to concentrate, knowing the story, having heard it in her husky voice, late at night, whispered into your skin over and over again, teasing you until you answered her questions correctly while her fingers drew you taut. The same story that played along with the picture of witches dancing in the moonlight hand in hand with demons.

No, you paid attention to her body, rather than her words. The way her hands moved through the air, illustrating something only she could see. Her voice rose and fell, lingering on certain words, her tongue caressing each syllable. She strode up and down, turning dramatically, weaving together a performance that had you throbbing with need.

You melted in your seat, watching her, lips parted, wondering if you could convince her to take you on her desk when you returned to her office. You were being so good. She had to reward you. She had to.

She paused, eyes dragging up to you. You watched as her tongue dragged along her lower lip, her pause deafening. Your own teeth sunk into your lower lip, imagining your own tongue following the same path. Her head titled. And then she was off again, continuing her lecture.

You inhaled sharply, looking away for a moment. You could pick out the students that were hanging on her every word, those that lent forward in their chairs, wanting to be closer to the sparkling woman. She might have had a reputation around campus, but those who managed to stick it out clearly found her as intriguing as you did.

You hated the thought of them thinking about her the way you did. Fantasising. Imagining. Working hard to please her the same way you did in the hopes they would be singled out. That she would look at them as if they were special. As if they would be the one to break through the hard exterior.

You were the only one who got to see beyond the performance to the woman underneath. And you were certainly the only one that got to benefit from those long fingers and flashing eyes and cruel smirk. No one else was hers.

No one else had a claim over her. Just you. Only you. Always you.

Your eyes slipped back to her, finding her leaning towards another one of her students. They were gazing up at her, dazzled, and your jaw clenched. But then her head tipped up and she caught your eye and you knew she was doing it on purpose. She wanted you watching. She wanted you paying attention. She wanted you jealous.

So you sat back in your chair, fingers combing through your hair, playing with the ends. The soft flannel of your shirt fell down towards your elbows, her perfume a permanent scent embedded in the material. She’d never asked for it back after you’d stolen it, the purple material a comfort when she wasn’t around.

You tipped your chin down, watching her intently. Her lips pulled up into a half smirk, leaning away from the student. She turned away from you, hands resting in her pockets, continuing on with the story. Letting your eyes sweep over her body, all you wanted to do was slip between her legs, taste her skin, hear her moan. You loved the noises she made when you were knuckles deep inside her.

The next time those eyes found you, you slipped your fingertip into your mouth, cheeks hollowing, maintaining eye contact with her. There was no stutter, no break in her words, no stumble, but you saw the way her fingers clenched.

If she was playing with you, you’d play right back.

You rested your fingers around your own throat, waiting for her to look back. You tipped your head back, lips parting, hooded eyes daring her to do something. Her shoulders tightened and her words came out a touch sharper than you were sure she’d intended them to be.

Then she gifted a smile to one of the girls in the front row. Not her usual smile. The one that she usually bestowed on you when you were particularly brilliant. You didn’t like the way your heart thudded. It reminded you that she would always hold so much power over you. With a single word she could break you.

Although, you might be able to break her too, if you ever lost your mind and wanted to hurt her.

When her gaze sought you out again, you knew you were looking at her like you wanted her to throw you down on the floor and have her way with you in front of all of her students. That you were imagining the pleasure she could give you. That you were thinking of the ways she could make you scream.

Her own eyes darkened, tongue wetting her lips again. Your lips parted on a soft sigh, fingertips trailing over your own skin in a mirror of the path hers had taken over your body that morning. You traced her name into your skin, slow enough for her to realise what you were doing. The expression on her face was nothing but raw need.

You thought you’d won the game she’d started. Your checkmate move, the one that always had her melting. Making it clear you were hers and hers alone, and that you were proud of the fact. That you luxuriated it. That you loved being claimed by her.

You spent the rest of the class watching her, gazing with what you were sure was a lovesick look, tracing her name over and over again into your skin as you considered all the ways you wanted to show her your appreciation for letting you join her class. And hopefully earn you another invitation.

You were beginning to grow drunk on her, addicted to her, salivating over her as she strode around the room, hands waving, fingers curling in a move you found very familiar. Your teeth sunk into your lower lip, holding in the moan that wanted to be heard.

She wrapped up the lecture, those eyes finding you again, lips curling up when she saw the state you were in. You shifted in your seat, squirming when her expression darkened. Lingering, you stayed in your seat as the students filtered out, a few staying behind to ask questions. She waved them away, her gaze caught on you.

You lent back, watching her approach from under hooded eyes. Hands in her pockets, she exuded powered, the kind that was heady and addictive and delicious. She walked through the row in front of you, leaning over the chair to draw closer to you.

“Did you learn something, pet?” she asked.

“Uh huh.” You nodded, leaning towards her.

“And what did you learn?” she asked.

“That I’m going to have to keep you chained up in your house,” you said, “you’re entirely too sexy when you teach and I’m not the only one who notices.”

“What on earth could you mean?” she asked, widening her eyes, affecting innocence.

“I think you know the exact effect you have on them,” you said, leaning in until you were only a hair’s breadth from her.

“What effect do I have on you?” she asked.

“How about you come here and find out,” you suggested.

Her hand grasped your chin, nails digging into your cheeks. Your mouth fell open, a soundless beg for her to come closer. When her eyes dipped down to your lips, you strained against her hold to get closer.

“You think you’re in control here? You think your little display will get you what you want? You think you have any say in how I teach my students?” Her lips brushed against yours, featherlight and ghost-like, “you have sorely miscalculated, pet.”

The flash of heat that went through you was embarrassing. You shouldn’t be so ready for her with so little work on her part. Leaning into her touch, you whimpered, just loud enough for her to hear you.

“You spent the entire class testing my patience,” she growled.

“I was being good for you,” you said.

“You were being a dirty whore. A spectacle. If anyone had seen you they would have known what a desperate little slut you are. Is that what you want? Do you want all my students to know how needy you are for my cock?” Her fingernails only dug in harder.

“Want them to know I’m the only one you touch,” you whimpered.

Her smirk wasn’t kind, full of malice while you could only beg for her.

“You’ve been nothing but a distraction, pet. You were meant to be good for me while I taught but you’re nothing but a naughty pet that needs to be punished.” The way her voice lowered into something husky, a rasp of a voice, had your thighs clenching again, “come on.”

She stood, releasing your face and you felt like you’d been kicked in the stomach. You hurried after her, rushing down the steps until her arm caught you around the waist, dragging you closer. Her kiss was searing, far too short by half, and you whimpered when she drew away.

Following her back across campus, you didn’t even notice the way people jumped out of her way. What you did notice was a few of the students still milling about, their eyes finding Agatha without pause, turning to her like she was the sun. Your stomach churned again.

You were the only one to lay claim over her. She was yours, not theirs, no matter what they seemed to want. She’d made it clear you were hers in every sense of the word.

Her hand curled around your wrist as she entered the history building, tight enough for you to feel secure with her. You liked when it became hard to know where you ended and she began. Having her wrapped so tightly around you was one of those things you loved but never told her. She’d tell you to stop being so sentimental.

Pushing her door open, she flung you inside, slamming the door behind her. Ignoring your pleading eyes, she took a seat behind her desk. Her legs spread wide, chin resting in her hand, watching you as you stood there, waiting for some kind of instructions. You felt breathless under that gaze, wanting to climb into her lap, to ride her thigh, to do anything you were allowed to ease the need that had been coursing through your veins since she’d begun her lecture.

“What am I going to do with you?” she asked, her eyes sweeping over your body, “even under careful watch you just can’t help yourself.”

“You’re just too-“

“Oh no,” she interrupted, “you’re not blaming your behaviour on me.”

Her fingers began to tap on the arm of her chair, considering you with an intensity that made you tremble.

“Were you hoping to make a fool of me in front of my students? You thought you had that power over me? That your childish antics would get a response from me?” she asked, displeasure colouring her words.

“You did react,” you said, knowing it was the wrong thing to say.

Her fingers gently tugged at the buttons of her shirt, opening it, exposing inch after inch of skin. Your mouth grew dry, eyes trained on it. There was no chance this was going the way you wanted and yet you couldn’t see the downside as you watched her.

Lace peeked out, inviting you in, tempting you to fall to your knees in front of her. She paused, dragging one finger up her chest, neck arching back before dropping down to look at you again.

“Come here, pet,” she commanded.

You did, unable to stop yourself even if you’d wanted to. Slipping between her and the desk, you reached a hand out to her, wanting to feel her beneath your touch. She slapped your hand away.

“Good girls get to touch,” she said, “and I see no good girls here.”

Quicker than you could catch, she had stood, hand on your body turning you, pressing your hips into the edge of her desk. You gasped. Her breath ghosted over the shell of your ear, hands pinning yours to the surface of the desk.

“Bad girls get punished,” she whispered.

Her tongue ran up the length of your neck. You shivered, hips pressing back into her, feeling the bulge in her trousers, the thick length you knew was hidden in there. After all, you’d seen her put it on that morning. She shoved you forward again, the edge painful as it dug in. You whined but she did nothing, keeping you pinned against her desk, unable to touch, to taste, to sink into her.

“How shall I punish you?” she hummed, lips brushing the vulnerable skin of your neck.

“Agatha,” you whined.

“I could refuse to give in to you, not touch you for a good long while, not let you cum until I feel you’ve learnt your lesson,” she said, still whisper soft

“Please,” you whimpered.

“I could have you warm my cock until the end of the day, and for every single time you distract me as I try to get my work done, I get to think of new punishments for you,” she suggested.

“Please,” you tried again.

“Or maybe I should have you cum over and over again until you can’t take it any more. Give you everything you want since you’re so needy,” she whispered, “and then when you think you can’t take any more, I just keep going since you wanted it so badly. You’ll take as much as I say you will and you’ll thank me for it. Every. Single. Orgasm.”

You were breathless, caught against her desk, pinned without the chance to move. Her lips kept ghosting over your skin, breath brushing until you shivered. Her teeth tugged on your earlobe, and the warmth was spreading, throbbing between your legs until you weren’t sure you could stay upright if she wasn’t keeping you there.

“I could spank you. Your skin would look so pretty with my handprints all over it,” she mused.

“I need you,” you whined.

“Unfortunately, pet, this isn’t about what you need, or what you want, or how good you think you are. This is about me teaching you a lesson,” she said, “I am your professor, after all.”

The shot of pleasure that went through you at the reminder, that you were one of her students, that this was wrong and most would frown upon it. They just didn’t understand. No one could understand the connection you had with your Agatha.

“How about we start with this and see what happens?”

She grasped both of your hands in one of hers, the other slipping past the waistband of your jeans. She chuckled, low in her throat when she felt how wet you were. You let out a shaky breath both unsure what she wanted from you, but wanting to give it to her.

Her finger was slow as it circled over your clit. Your breath was loud to your own ears. Soft lips attached themselves to your skin, sucking at your pulse point, tongue pressing down to feel your blood thrum. Her hips ground against your ass, pushing you more firmly against her fingers.

“Did you enjoy your little display in class?” she asked, whispered into your skin, “did you enjoy trying to take control?”

You couldn’t move as her fingers were slow on your bundle of nerves. You made a small noise, a whimper or a moan or something that was pathetic with need. Her teeth nipped at your skin, not gentle but not as harsh as she’d been with you before. It was like butterflies exploding in your stomach all over again.

“Such a display for me,” she murmured, “I think you’d like my fingers to make a pretty necklace for you.”

“Yes,” you hissed.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice the way you touched yourself. My name was a nice touch, pet. Because you are mine. My little pet to play with.”

You whimpered at her words.

“Do you like that? You like being mine? Mine to do with as I please?” Her lips brushed over her skin, “do you like being owned by me, pet?”

“Uh huh,” was all you managed to say as her fingers continued to play with your clit.

“You know what I enjoy most about owning you?” she asked, voice a soft murmur.

You let out a desperate noise in answer. You felt her smile against your skin.

“I have complete control over you,” she said.

Her fingers were rough, nothing but harsh strokes, drawing you closer to the precipice. You were trying to rock against them, to chase your high like the needy thing you knew you were. You were panting, pinned to the desk, not even feeling the pain of it anymore, so focused on the way she was making you feel.

Her fingers stilled. Your pained cry only seemed to amuse her, the chuckle a vibration through her chest.

“Agatha,” you pleaded.

“Complete.” Her thumb stroked over your clit again, “control.”

She held you there, fingers still resting against you, but not giving you the friction you needed. She ignored you, every noise you made, every wiggle of your hips, every pleading gasp of her name. It was torture, having her there and not being given what you wanted.

“I do own you, don’t I, kitten?” she asked, voice low, a note of something new in her voice.

“Yes,” you gasped, “I’m yours.”

She groaned, face buried in your neck. The way she kissed your skin, nipping, sucking, tongue tasting however much she could reach was surprisingly desperate. Even pinned to the desk, hands held in one strong grip, only able to sigh her name, you felt the way she pressed closer to you.

Her fingers sunk into you, so easily, your wetness making it so simple. You threw your head back, her name sweet honey on your tongue as she forced you back to the edge. So close, you could taste it. Fingers curling within you, stroking you, turning your head hazy. There was nothing you could do but clench your fingers and let her do as she wanted with your body.

You trembled, legs shaking, your moans so loud in the quiet office. You felt it in your lower stomach, the melting of fire through your veins, the beginning of muscles fluttering. Her hand stilled, slipping out of you.

“No,” you groaned.

“This is a punishment, pet,” she reminded you.

Her hand slipped out of your trousers, hand curling around your throat. Your slickness smeared over your skin and you couldn’t even care. You could happily become whatever mess she wanted you to be if she would only touch you again.

With her hold on you, she managed to get you to turn your head. Her lips descended on yours, soft despite the tight grip she had on you. When her tongue slipped between your lips, tasting you until you were melting, whimpering, pressing closer. She chuckled, teeth sinking into your lower lip, pulling on it. You were nothing but your base desires, needing her closer, needing her in every way. She possessed you in every single way it was possible to own another person.

“Have you learnt your lesson?” she mumbled against your lips.

“Yes,” you sighed.

“I’m not sure you have,” she said, drawing back.

“Agatha,” you whined.

“I do so love the way you say my name,” she said, eyes sweeping over you.

The fingers around your throat tightened. The noise you made was so pathetic, the auditory embodiment of need. Her eyes hard darkened, smouldering, molten as she looked at you.

“Do you want my cock, kitten?” she asked.

“Yes please,” you whimpered.

“So polite.” She let your hands go and gently stroked your hair, “keep your hands on the table and I might just let you have it.”

With one hand around your throat, the other dove back into your underwear, stroking through your dripping folds. Thumb grinding against your clit, the way you whined only seemed to drive her on. She was grinding against your ass and you were desperate for her. Your nails dug into the wood of the desk, doing everything in your power to keep them there as she did everything in her power to drive you mad with nothing but her fingers.

You were so sensitive under her touch, each stroke sending shockwaves through you. You trembled, every nerve ending on fire. Her hand only tightened around your throat until your airways cut off. Your fingers clenched, hips trying to rock against her, tears pricking at your eyes. You wanted her so much. You could taste your orgasm, could practically see it. It was right there, right within reaching distance. One more second and it would break over you.

Her hand pulled free again and the tear fell. She kissed it away from your cheek, tongue catching it. Releasing your throat, her body disappeared from behind you. You shivered in the chill, the frustration nothing but a familiar friend when it came to her. Her chair creaked.

“Turn around, pet,” she commanded.

You did, finding her leaning back in her chair, thighs spread, purple strap bobbing in the air. You swallowed, eyes trained on it.

“On your knees, pet.”

You fell immediately, the sharp pain not even registering. Crawling forward, you looked up at her, waiting for more orders. Her hands gently ran through your hair, blue eyes dazzling as she held your gaze.

“Go on,” she said, “suck my cock like the dirty whore I know you are.”

Your tongue ran up the length of it before you sucked the tip into your mouth. The throbbing between your legs was unbearable, but you knew how to follow instructions, and if you were good enough you’d be rewarded. Her fingers were tangled in your hair, guiding you further down.

You did your best to relax your throat, taking her as deeply as you could. Her hips pushed up, lips quirking up as you gagged around her cock. Slowly pulling up again, you suckled on the tip before sliding down again. Her fingers tightened in your hair, the sharp pull making you moan around the silicone.

“Look at you. So good as sucking cock,” she murmured, voice husky, “you belong on your knees, pet.”

Her praise had you pressing your thighs together again.

“So pretty and all mine,” she sighed.

You redoubled your efforts, wanting more of her praise. You wanted to be her good girl. You wanted her to know you would do anything for you. You wanted to give her everything she deserved.

“Could spend all day like this with you. I’ve imagining it, you know. Sitting at this desk, you under there on your knees, your mouth put to work. Just imagine, sitting here, your mouth on me, as I’m doing office hours with my students. What do you think they’d do if they knew? If they could see you being so good for me? If they knew your rightful place was on your knees for me?” Her fingers sharply pulled on your hair, “but then I don’t want to share this sight with anyone.”

You groaned around her cock. Something in her softened.

“No, this sight is all for me,” she said, and you whimpered at the reverence in her voice.

Your hands grasped her bare thighs, head bobbing, guided by her hands in your hair. The way she praised you was so delicious, emptying your head of anything but her. There was only this, and the way you felt on fire with her. The ache of your knees was so distant, focused as you were on her.

“Such a pretty pet,” she murmured, “c’mere.”

Her hands in your hair pulled you off her with an indecent noise. Climbing to your feet, you looked down at her, wanting to touch and to taste and to melt into her. Her hands were steady as they unbuttoned your jeans, pushing them down over your hips. You kicked them off. Her fingers ran along the waistband of your panties, your muscles jumping under her touch.

“I was going to keep you wanting as punishment,” she mused, “but you’ve been so good and I just can’t resist you.”

She lent forward, lips pressing to your lower stomach. Looking up your body, her eyes sparkled.

“You’re irresistible to me, kitten,” she whispered into your skin.

Her fingers hooked in the waistband of your underwear, dragging them slowly down your legs. You gasped when her tongue dove between your folds, tasting you, her soft hum going through you like electricity.

“You’re dripping for me,” she said.

Her tongue brushed over your clit, hips jumping towards her. She hummed again, a soft suckle against your bundle of nerves. Your hands landed on her shoulders, gripping tightly to keep your knees from collapsing beneath you.

“Please,” you begged, “Agatha.”

“Come here, pet.”

She positioned you on top of her, knees either side of her lap. When you sunk down onto her cock, you let out a low noise, relieved. Her hands grasped your hips tightly, keeping you there, holding you still. You tried to squirm, pushing your face into the crook of her neck, hiding your embarrassment from her.

“No, no, no, pet. I’m going to watch you unravel,” she said, lips brushing against your temple.

You stayed hidden, hips shifting, until she pinned you down. Held there, full up with her cock, you were a live wire, desperate and needy and losing your mind.

“If you want me to fuck you, you know what you have to do,” Agatha murmured, grip on you tightening.

Your shame wasn’t comparable to your need. You emerged from your hiding place, looking down at her, cheeks heating from the expression of raw desire on her face.

“That’s my good pet,” she said.

Her hands guided you up, just an inch, before pulling you down again. It wasn’t enough, but you couldn’t do anything but clutch at her shoulders. She was in complete control, you were nothing but hers to do with as she pleased. She watched you with greedy eyes, drinking in everything.

Your hips rocked against her, taking her strap as deep as it would go. You clenched around it, not able to help yourself. She’d brought you towards the edge too many times. All you could think about was giving in and doing anything you could to get your orgasm.

Bouncing on her cock, your fingers dug into her shoulder. The way she looked at you was pure liquid heat, eyes blown wide as you kept saying her name over and over again. Your head tipped back, exposing your throat to her. Her lips attached, as you knew they would, painting such pretty bruises on your skin.

Her fingers found your clit again, stroking you as you rode her as hard as she’d let you. You were a gasping mess atop her, chasing your orgasm with wild abandon. She wasn’t soft with you, taking everything she wanted, all you were willing to give, rough and demanding. She growled into your skin, teeth sinking in, fingers pressing bruises into your flesh. You were a wild animal, crying her name, clawing at her, wound so tight.

With one stroke, she broke the tension.

Your orgasm crashed into you. Your muscles stiffened, her name a strangled noise, holding on. Her fingers kept stroking you, drawing it out, making it last as long as she could as you milked her cock for all it was worth. The aftershocks kept you twitching as you fell forward, her arms catching you, gasping out your thanks to her.

She kissed your forehead, hair sticking to sweat coated skin. You pushed closer, wanting to feel her heart beat in time with yours. Her hands were running over your skin, along the line of your spine under your shirt, lips brushing over every inch of you she could reach.

You reached for her face, blindly pulling her into a kiss, soft and sated and relaxed. The way she kissed you back was nothing short of a claiming, kissing you deeper and deeper. With her still buried in you, all you could do was mewl, fingers pushing past the pins in her hair, clutching at her.

“Did you enjoy yourself, kitten?” she asked when she drew away.

“Yes,” you breathed, a whisper in the air shared between the two of you, faces still so close together.

“Have I told you how beautiful you are when you’re cumming on my cock?” she murmured, “how did I get so lucky to capture you?”

It was the most sentimental thing she’d ever said to you. You felt yourself melting. Your lips brushed hers, so gentle it made your heart ache.

“I should come to your classes more often,” you said.

Her chuckle sent your heart racing again.

“Clearly you haven’t learnt your lesson,” she said, “I knew I shouldn’t have indulged you.”

“Why did you?” you asked, nuzzling closer.

Her hands were still caressing your skin and you felt her breath ghost over your temple. Her kiss was soft, nose brushing over your skin, tongue darting out to taste you for a just a moment.

“Because I can’t say no to you, kitten. Not really,” she murmured and you wondered if you were actually meant to hear it.

She let you stay curled around her for longer than you’d expected, on her lap, arms curled around your body. Your eyelids fluttered shut. Every time she moved you felt her strap shift within you. The way the heat of pleasure settled under your skin was pleasant, not desperate yet, but comforting and soft and warm. Familiar. You felt safe and cared for, right there in her lap and in her arms.

“You should probably get dressed,” she said after some time had passed.

“Don’t wanna,” you replied, lips brushing her throat from your spot against her body.

“I’m all for you staying right here but I didn’t lock the door and if someone comes in they might have questions,” she said, “questions I’m happy to answer about bad girls needing discipline but you might not want everyone to know you can’t follow simple orders.”

“I can follow orders,” you protested.

“Then get dressed, pet” she said.

You whimpered when she slipped out of you, feeling empty without her cock inside you. She lent forward, snatching up your underwear before you could. She shoved them in the pocket of her trousers as she tugged them back into place, looking for all the world like she hadn’t just been inside you.

You dragged your jeans up your legs. She carefully buttoned them up for you, fingers brushing your skin. The look in her eye when she looked up at you was so full of something it took your breath away. You wished you could name it but all you knew was it made you feel like you’d been dunked in oil and set alight. It only got stronger as you buttoned up her shirt, hiding the lace from view again. Your fingers lingered in the dip between her her collarbones, such a vulnerable spot, so soft under your fingertips.

“Go on, pet. I know you have work to be getting on with,” she said, gently pushing your hand away.

“But I’m so tired,” you whined.

“Don’t be a brat,” she scolded but there was a twinkle in her eye, “I’m not sure you could handle any more punishment today.”

You held out just long enough to let her know you were thinking about it. You dropped onto the sofa, doing exactly what she’d told you. More work. Always more work on your thesis.

But you couldn’t wait for the next time she brought you to class with her.

[himezoro]

your roman empire with the one piece men

that small gesture or word he said that entered your mind and never left.

starring : zoro, luffy and law !!

word count : 889

author's note : again, i'm so sorry for posting so rarely, working and planning a wedding has to be the most exhausting thing ever, i promise to go through all of your requests and to be more present, tysm for your support ♡౨ৎ⋆.˚ some of these scenarios have been inspired by moments i often think about in my life, can you guess which hahaha??

zoro was smitten with you, and longed taking a step forward in your camaraderie, and everyone with a pair of eyes could see it. so when nami told him he was on errand duty with you and only you today, the swordsman knew it was his shot to get closer to you.

gosh, you were gorgeous walking around the alleys with the wind blowing your hair and diffusing your hypnotizing scent. and there he was, walking by your side like a guard dog with his hands the pockets of his jacket, listening to your enchanting voice.

the errands were nearly coming to an end, and zoro did not dare to "make a move", which he knew he would regret. the alleys got more crowded and he was afraid to lose you, especially since his orientation is not the best, though his senses would always bring him back to you. he knew that.

as zoro listened to you and internally debated on whether he should say something about his feelings or not, his body acted on his own, finally closing the distance.

as he gently grabbed your left hand with his right one, intertwined his fingers with yours, before putting both of his hand and yours in his right pocket, acting like it was the most natural gesture on earth.

and the butterflies in your stomach never died since.

luffy has always brought joy to your life and fed your desire for adventures and fun. he lit stars to your world and invited you to let go of pressure and have fun, not minding about third parties' opinions. a lot of people would question your couple association because of luffy's exuberance, but all them be damned. the future king of the pirates brought you back to life and no one could make you happier.

a sudden rain came down pouring on the grand line and the wind blew hard. the entire crew started running around to put back inside the furnitures that were left outside. the rain was so much that it started freezing and you started to run to your quarters. yet, as you were about to finally reach your door, a pair of elastic arms grabbed you and brought you back outside under the pouring rain, their owner sporting a huge, bright grin on his face.

"luffy!!! what the hell are you doing? it's raining and we'll catch a cold!!"

"chichichi, i wanted to dance with you, (y/n)!" he beamed, his eyes adoringly pleading yours to allow his antics as he started twirling you around under the pouring rain.

between laughters only him could exulate, you tried to bring him back to his senses.

"but luffy, honey, we can't dance under the rain! it's cold and there's no music playing!"

luffy did not mind your ramblings as he kept on twirling you around, his hand standing on your the small of your back the whole time, his thumb occasionnaly drawing circles. with a determined gaze and his signature smile on his face, he pressed his forehead on yours, the rain drops falling from his nose to your lips from the closeness.

"together, there's nothing that we can't do (y/n). after all, i'm the future king of the pirates!!"

his laughter hugged the atmosphere and made your heart race even more.

your relationship with law was a secret on the submarine, and it was hard for you to hide your adoration for your boyfriend. after all, what wasn't there to love? law was smart, composed, mature and commited. yet, sometimes, it felt so easy for him to "ignore" your status in front of the crew or anyone for that matter, which tended to hurt your heart. did law appreciate you the way you did? was it unrequited?

little did you know, law had a hard time not paying as much attention as he would when with the others. because he had a lot of work, even when the others were not around, it did not mean the two of you could see each other. therefore, the soft gestures he wished to cover you with were quite lacking. and of course, he was the one to have asked to keep the relationship a secret, and because of his prideful persona, he would not admit it was not a good idea.

you and bepo were getting ready to work around the submarines for your chores of the day. you were busy going around the submarine with your chores tool and bepo, and failed to notice your shoe laces came undone.

and of course, this would not go unnoticed by law. the captain could not stop himself from going to you with a frown, which surprised (and scared) both of you and bepo.

is there anything you did wrong? why was he looking so pissed off?

"idiot. you could trip and injure yourself." your boyfriend sternly spoke, kneeling to the floor to tie your shoe-lace, leaving bepo dumbfounded and yourself out of breath, with a racing heartbeat.

"you know i don't want you to get hurt." he said getting up, his hot breath tickling your cheek in the process, his warm hand resting on yours, silently promising to show his adoration for you like you deserve.

and you swore you could still feel the warmth of his hand from that day again.

[tbaluver]

Santa Baby- The Love And DeepSpace Men

pairings: xavier x fem! reader, zayne x fem! reader, rafayel x fem! reader, sylus x fem! reader genre: smut + drabble summary: santa gives you the gift of pleasure the night before christmas a/n: hihi lovelies ! i'm trying out this new layout but literally just for the holidays bc i dunno if i can do this for each post lols ive seen so many of my fav writers do this on every fandom so this is inspo from them !! (∩˃o˂∩)♡ rest of my a/n will be down below (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

‘twas the night before christmas, fruitcake, peppermint candy canes or any holiday food could never compare to the taste of your cunt debunked by santa xavier.

the warm glow of the fireplace casted both your shadows on the walls, yet the room was ridiculously hot. both of your bodies were sweating in a tangled mess. xavier situates your legs around his head, trapping him to the spot he thirsted so much for.

your limbs trembled as he rubs soothing circles on your thigh as he admires your leaking cunt. you felt like a mess under him, yet he wouldn’t have it any other way.

one arm pressed down on your hips while the other was used to pump his fingers into you. your mind was dizzy, not knowing which to focus on. his mouth and fingers were doing wonders that created butterflies in your stomach.

you tug against his hair, earning a soft groan that sends vibrations over your cunt. he licks a wide stripe from your entrance and up to your clit, collecting your sweet juices on his tongue while keeping his eyes on you.

he pushes his tongue inside of you, groaning from your taste. you buck your hips up into the air but his arm around your hip gently pushes you back down on the carpet. his thumb rubs on your clit, making sure to apply the right amount of pleasure that causes you to moan in pleasure.

there is nothing xavier wants more for the holidays other than giving you pleasure. he knows exactly what to do to get that reaction out of you.

his tongue consistently draws patterns on your wet slick while occasionally sucking on your clit. you yelp out a moan when he inserts two fingers inside of you, groaning softly when he feels how tight you are as you clench around his fingers.

his fingers pump in and out of you, curling to reach your favorite spot before his tongue dives back in, sucking on your clit. you were a moaning mess below him, tugging onto his hair as you kept bucking your hips up. you felt that familiar coil building up on your stomach, your walls squeezing around his fingers.

he watches you with half lidded eyes as you release your load around his fingers. after you ride out your high, he removes his fingers out, sucking the juices of your cunt.

nothing comes close to you all year long

Zayne:

‘twas the night before christmas, the mugs of hot cocoa were left abandoned, growing cold. the plate of cookies was surprisingly left half eaten. stockings that you wore were found on the floor along with zayne’s and the rest of your clothing trailing up to the floor of the fireplace. santa zayne has arrived but he is not finished just yet.

zayne swears he saw the most beautiful angel ever. no, not the one on top of the tree but the one on top of him. tits bounced joyfully that made him feel like he was dizzy. your pussy clenched around him, milking every drop of him and yet he couldn't get enough. his cock rock hard as you slide up and down his length, taking every inch inside of him in your belly like the good girl you are. 

he swears the way you were dripping for him and the countless orgasms you’ve given each other, he might as well just keep you on the good list for your entire life if you kept doing this. his mind completely forgot that the reason this all started was that you were a naughty girl for trying to shake around the boxes under the tree. 

a small lazy smirk curled on the corner of his lips as he held you, helping you bounce on his cock. his eyes half lidded as he admires the markings that littered all over your body, each and every one of them illuminating from the lights of the tree.

he isn’t that far behind from you. he watches your eyes roll back and your mouth open wide. with a breathless moan of his name, signals him that you reached your orgasm which makes him do so as well. the clenching and pulsing of your walls around him sends another bucket loads of his cum painting your insides milk white.

you looked absolutely breathtaking. your movements were slow as you continue to bring yourself down from your high as you both catch your breaths. he gently pulls you down to rest comfortably in the crook of his neck, keeping himself plugged in you.

you both were lost in your own world until the chime of the clock struck midnight, breaking the silence between you both. you tilt your head slightly, your cheek still resting on his broad chest as he tenderly brushes your hair. with a small smile, zayne whispers, “merry christmas my love.”

Rafayel:

‘twas the night before christmas, the tree was decked out and full of presents, big and small but one particular present caught your eye. a present that was too big to gift wrap.

there stood your boyfriend with a christmas hat and nothing on but wrapping paper wrapped around his sculpted body, specifically wrapped around his cock.

“well aren’t ya gonna unwrap me cutie?” he winks, tilting his head.

wrapping paper scattered across the floor and it didn’t take long for your present to be up and running. effortlessly, it didn’t take him long for him to peel off your clothes.

you sank to your knees on his carpet, positioning yourself in front of the tree where he laid out pillows for you to be comfortable. before you point your ass up to the sky, you take one last look at the ornament in front of you that reflects rafayel pumping his cock behind you.

he admires the sight laid out before him, a smirk curling on the corner of his lips. grabbing the base of his dick, he rubs himself between your ass cheeks, his pre-cum dripping on your skin. he spreads you slowly, a breathy chuckle escaping his lips when he sees you arch yourself more to press yourself onto him.

rafayel sinks slowly into you, letting you feel every inch of his length and vein going inside of you. he lets out a soft groan as he looks down at the way his cock disappears into your tight cunt as he pushes himself deeper, earning a whiney moan from you.

he starts off with a slow tempo, letting you get used to his length before his hips start slamming against yours. his hands roam around your back while occasionally squeezing the plush of your ass. he knows he’s fucking you good from the way your moans sound.

“yeah just keeping takin’ all of me cutie, just like that,”

the mix of your words slur together, “‘s good raf- so good!”, along with every sound that escapes your pretty mouth as he watches your ass bounce back rhythmically against his pelvis was sending him to overdrive.

your moans were muffled from the way you were face down into the pillow, drools spilling out of the corners of your mouth as each thrust sent you closer to climax.

he held you firmly in pace, his hands gripped on your hips, feeling your gushy walls constrict his massive cock. the familiar coil was winding in your stomach as you chased your high, rafayel wasn’t that far behind you either.

with a few hard thrusts in your walls you came around his length, rutting your hips more to milk out his cock before your legs buckled out. his pace slows as thick ropes of cum release into you, his hips roll against your ass to make sure no drop goes to waste. he keeps himself plugged into you as he plants a trail of soft kisses down your face and neck.

luckily for you, santa made sure you get an extra present that following night. a two for one if you will.

Sylus:

‘twas the night before christmas, and santa sylus’s little helper has been so good to him that she deserved her special treat early.

he removes himself in between your thighs, your arousal dripping down to his chin as he admires you. your pussy glistened in the warm glow of the christmas lights and from the flickering fire of the fireplace, your folds slick with arousal.

christmas was around the corner and this early present was meant for you but it seems like his also came a little too early as well. but it wasn’t finished just yet. santa sylus had planned a few more rides down.

once you were ready, you felt his swollen tip nudge at your pretty pussy, slipping in nice and slowly just for you. your back arched on his soft, fluffy luxurious carpet, pressing your chest against his firmer. inch by inch you felt his thick length enter deeper and deeper earning soft grunts fall from his lips.

you rock your hips under his, signalling him that you were ready for him to move more. you wrap your legs around his hips as he gently holds the back of your thigh to keep you in place and the other on the rug.

slowly, he rocks his hips with yours, keeping a steady pace. he captures his lips. picking up the pace slightly. sloppy thrusts and hungry lips, attempting to devour you, made your brain go dumb. between his heavy strokes and sweet kisses, you managed to catch your breath

his lips met your against, melting into your touch. the sounds of lip and skin smacking fill the room along with the fire crackling in the fireplace.

his hand tightens on your thigh while the other grips the carpet as he fastens his pace. grunts and small whispers that are cut off in pants, invade your ear. “so..so good..”

your velvety walls were so welcoming and warm. every inch and every vein of his length can be felt inside of you as it drags along your tight walls. beads of sweat drop down his skin as he focuses on making you finish first but the belly bulge he was watching go in and out of you was not helping him.

butterflies swarm in your stomach as pure ecstasy reaches deep down within you. your back arched when the constant thrusts of his cock became too much. sylus joins you, thick white ropes of cum spurted deep inside your walls.

he keeps you close, your foreheads connecting as you both catch your breath. his hips eventually come to a halt but he makes sure to keep his hips locked with yours so his seed wouldn’t leak out of you.

that’s one present off your christmas list and many more surprises he has for you.

a/n: hihi again lovelies ! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ i moved it down here bc my entire yap is gonna cover the post ( • ᴖ • ｡) and before ANYONE mentions that this isn't giving santa baby from the song that's bc some parts are and some parts are not (ᵕ—ᴗ—) i referenced a lot of songs like nonesense christmas by sabrina, rocking around the christmas tree and just tried to use things from the holidays to make it smut related <(˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶)> i wanted to get this in before christmas bc i know some of you guys are going into christmas eve rn ! i hope you guys have a merry christmas and a happy holidays !! ✧｡٩(ˊᗜˋ )✧*｡

special thanks to my beta readers again @ilovemitsuya @deusfoundry @justwinginglife ˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖ !! mwah mwah ily all !!

[castiwls]

winner - a.d

Paring; art x coach!reader

Requested; no

Synopsis; art finally won and you both couldn't be happier

Warnings; mentions of cheating (reader and art mentioned to be having an emotional affair)

Notes; i saw challengers today and oh my god I am obsessed!!! i immediately had brain rot and had to write something so here's this! (p.s the reader is like a co-coach idk tbh but she works with him :) )

reqs and inbox are open !

Masterlist

The feel of your nails biting into your palm seemed muted as your eyes stayed locked on the small green ball. The world seemed to slow as you watched it soar through the air back and forth. Back and forth.

Your breath seemed to stick in your throat every time the ball soared over the court and back towards Art. You held your breath waiting for the moment he’d miss yet it never came. It was almost like watching a machine, every hit was perfect.

This seemed to go on for a lifetime. The world faded away until suddenly the crowd erupted into a sea of cheers. The sound of Tashi yelling pulled you back to reality and you shot up from your chair on autopilot. Unsure if you should cheer or begin damage control you looked down to the scoreboard, a small gasp leaving your lips.

He’d done it. He’d really won.

A laugh escaped your lips as you felt a rush of relief and excitement rush through you. Art’s eyes found yours from his spot on the court and he grinned up at you. The relief on his face was obvious as he stood taking in the sight before him. It had been so long since he’d walked away from a match feeling this good that he’d forgotten how it felt to win.

How it felt to know that no matter what Tashi scolded him for it wouldn’t take away the fact that he’d won. 

“Art!” Your voice called out from behind him, your joy seeping into your tone. His smile only seemed to widen as he turned to see you walking towards him. Your body screamed at you to move faster, but you forced that need down. As you neared closer he quickly moved to meet you halfway, his arms engulfing you as the cheers continued.

The feeling of his arms squeezing around your waist left butterflies forming in your stomach. His body shook slightly as he pressed his face into your hair. “You won.” Smiling you pulled back slightly, his arms still encircling your waist.

“I won.” He repeated grinning down at you. You nodded another laugh of joy escaping you as he pulled you back in again, his head resting in the crook of your neck.

The feeling of holding you left him even more giddy than the relief of finally winning. His wife seemed like a distant thought as you stood there, both basking in the glory of his win.

You’d always been the one who kept him going. You’d always believed that he could come back from his slump, and you were right. 

Art pulled back briefly looking over to the stands. Tashi had disappeared and he frowned slightly. “Hey.” You touched a hand to his cheek drawing his attention back to you. “She went to go deal with the winnings. She’ll be back.” You assured him.

Art nodded before another grin broke out on his face. “I really did it.” He could hardly believe it himself. Part of him had believed that maybe he’d overstayed his welcome and that he was simply no longer good enough at the thing he’d dedicated his life to.

“I told you!” You laughed moving your hand from his cheek to his shoulder. “And I’m so proud.”

He felt his cheeks heat at the praise as he tipped his chin down. “You don’t have to-”

“I mean it, Art. You deserve this.” 

He looked back up to you after a moment, his eyes locking on yours. He felt himself get lost in your eyes for a moment and he raised a hand to your cheek. You subconsciously leaned into the touch your eyes fluttering closed for a moment.

He knew it was wrong. He was married, yet when he looked at you he felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time. With Tashi the only thing keeping them together was tennis, but you were different.

You didn’t care about how well he played. You only cared about him and it felt so good to finally have someone who didn’t just see him as an extension of themselves and their stolen dreams.

Art had been in love with you for years and standing here now he felt it more then ever.

His thumb brushed against your lip for a moment before he took a deep breath. Drawing you into another hug he enjoyed the feeling of holding you yet again.

“Thank you.” He murmured, his lips brushing your ear causing a shiver to run through you. A slight blush grew on your cheeks at the closeness before you cleared your throat. Shaking your head you looked up at him. “You don’t have to thank me. You did this.”

He shook his head. “No. You never gave up on me. Even when she almost did.” Art dropped his voice leaning down slightly. His eyes darted down to your lips and you felt your breath catch in your throat again.

You knew it was wrong. Having a crush on a married man was bad enough but you knew your relationship with the man had passed the platonic marker months ago. Tashi was well aware of her husband's fondness for you, yet she’d never cared.

She’d openly admitted to you soon after you’d started working with them both that she couldn’t be the person to coddle him when things went wrong. And that was where you came in. 

Starting an emotional affair with the man you were meant to be training was an awful idea. But it felt so right. Art needed someone to fall back on when things went wrong, someone who would hold him and tell him it would be okay.

You’d fallen into the routine with him so effortlessly that it felt natural.

Before you could warn him of the people around you, you felt his lips press against yours. A small noise escaped your lips as one of your hands cupped the back of his head. 

One of his hands drew you closer by the waist while his other cupped your cheek. 

You both knew this was bad. Someone was bound to notice but you couldn’t find it in you to care.

All that mattered was that he’d won.  

[fear-less]

Don't really have a solid request but how about the ball lol literally no request just more like a prompt lol

₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚  tangled up with you all night

pairing: fred weasley x f!reader

➥ In which, you and fred go to the yule ball and end the night with a bang (almost literally) 

warnings: fluff, it gets smutty but they don't do it, establish relationship, pretend the opposite gender can go into the dorms for this…, pet names, lots of snogging…., bad writing near the end..!

a/n: i was planning on writing smut but gave up bc i lowkey can't write smut for the life of me, that's why i have like 3 posts containing smut i fear.. lowkey gave up at the end, so another cliffhanger?????? sorry in advanced if there's any errors..

3.8k words

The Great Hall shimmered with the glow of a thousand enchanted candles as students milled about in their finest dress robes, their laughter and chatter mixing with the soft hum of magical music. The Yule Ball had transformed Hogwarts into a winter wonderland, and the air was alive with excitement.

You stood at the edge of the hall, smoothing down the fabric of your dress and glancing around nervously. Even though you’d been dating Fred Weasley for a few months now, the butterflies in your stomach still hadn’t gotten the memo. He had promised to meet you here, but you couldn’t help feeling a little self-conscious as you waited.

“Looking for someone, love?” came a familiar voice from behind you. You turned to see Fred, his signature grin lighting up his face. He was wearing deep maroon dress robes that should have looked ridiculous but somehow suited him perfectly. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he held out a hand to you.

“You clean up nicely,” you teased, taking his hand.

“And you look absolutely stunning,” he said, his voice softer as he pulled you closer. His gaze lingered on you for a moment, and you felt heat rise to your cheeks.

“Shall we?” he asked, gesturing towards the dance floor.

You nodded, letting him lead you into the throng of students. The music shifted to a lively waltz, and Fred spun you effortlessly, his hand firm on your waist. You couldn’t help but laugh as he exaggerated his movements, drawing amused glances from your classmates.

“Fred, you’re going to make me trip,” you protested, though you were grinning.

“Nonsense,” he said, twirling you again. “If you fall, I’ll catch you. That’s what dashing boyfriends are for, isn’t it?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the warmth that spread through your chest at his words. Despite his joking demeanor, Fred’s grip was steady, his movements confident. He had a way of making you feel like the only person in the room.

As the song ended, Fred dipped you dramatically, earning a smattering of applause from a group of Gryffindors nearby. You laughed as he pulled you upright, his cheeks slightly flushed but his grin unwavering.

“You’re impossible,” you said, shaking your head.

“And yet you love me for it,” he quipped, leaning in to brush a kiss against your temple.

The night passed in a blur of laughter and dancing. Fred kept you on your toes, whether by sneaking snacks from the refreshment table or convincing you to join him in an impromptu snowball fight in the courtyard. He was a whirlwind of energy, but he always made sure to keep you close, his hand never straying far from yours.

After a particularly lively polka that left you both breathless and laughing, Fred led you off the dance floor. "Time for a break?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Definitely,” you replied, fanning yourself with your hand. “I think my feet are going to protest if we keep going.”

“Feet or no feet, you’re a brilliant dancer,” he said, grabbing two glasses of pumpkin juice from a passing tray. He handed you one, his fingers brushing against yours. “You’ve got to teach me your secret.”

“Secret?” you asked, taking a sip of the cool drink. “You’re the one who’s been leading.”

“Ah, but you’re the one who makes it look good,” he said with a wink.

The two of you wandered to the edge of the hall, finding a quieter corner to sit and watch the other students. Fred pointed out some of the more amusing pairs on the dance floor, his commentary making you laugh until your sides ached.

“Okay, but look at Neville,” Fred said, nudging you gently. Neville Longbottom was valiantly attempting to dance with Ginny, who was clearly trying to guide him through the steps. “Bless him, he’s got the enthusiasm. Not so sure about the rhythm, though.”

“He’s doing his best,” you said, though you couldn’t hide your smile.

“And that’s all that matters,” Fred agreed. He leaned closer to you, his shoulder brushing against yours. “As long as you’re having fun, nothing else really matters, does it?”

“No, it doesn’t,” you said softly, turning to look at him. The warmth in his gaze made your heart skip a beat.

As the evening wore on, Fred’s antics continued to delight you. At one point, he conjured a handful of enchanted mistletoe and tried to sneak it above the heads of unsuspecting couples. When Professor McGonagall caught him, she gave him a stern look that only made him laugh harder.

“You’re incorrigible,” you said, shaking your head as he returned to your side, still chuckling.

“And you’re still here, so what does that say about you?” he teased, slipping his arm around your waist.

The two of you eventually found yourselves on a quiet balcony overlooking the snow-covered grounds. The music and laughter from the Great Hall were a faint hum in the background. Snowflakes drifted lazily from the sky, catching in Fred’s hair and on the shoulders of his robes.

Fred draped his cloak over your shoulders, his arm curling around your waist. “Having fun?” he asked, his voice softer now.

“The best,” you said, leaning into him. “Thank you for tonight, Fred.”

He tilted his head to look at you, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “I’d do anything to see you smile like that,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

Your breath hitched at the tenderness in his gaze. Before you could respond, he closed the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was warm and sweet and everything you’d ever dreamed of.

When he pulled back, his grin was back in place. “So, I think I’ve earned the title of Best Boyfriend yet?”

You laughed, resting your forehead against his. “You’ve more than earned it, Fred Weasley.”

He beamed, pulling you closer as snow began to fall softly around you. In that moment, with Fred by your side and the world fading away, everything felt perfect. The two of you stayed there for a while, talking in hushed tones about everything and nothing. Fred shared a few outrageous stories about the twins' latest prank ideas, and you told him about your hopes and dreams for the future. It was a moment suspended in time, just the two of you against the backdrop of the magical evening.

As you sat there, the distant sounds of the ball began to fade. Fred glanced up at the stars, his hand still holding yours. "You know," he said, "nights like this don't come often. But with you, every day feels like it could be just as magical."

You smiled, resting your head on his shoulder. "You always know the right thing to say, don't you?"

"It's a talent," he said with a mock-serious tone, earning a laugh from you. "But really, I mean it. You're… well, you're brilliant. And not just for putting up with me."

"Putting up with you is the easy part," you teased. "It's keeping up with you that's the challenge."

He chuckled, pulling you closer. "Lucky for me, you're the only one who can."

As the night drew to a close, Fred walked you through the quiet corridors of Hogwarts, the sounds of the ball fading behind you. The soft crunch of snow underfoot was the only noise, adding to the serene feeling of the moment. Fred's hand never left yours, his touch warm and comforting against the cool night air.

"You know," Fred murmured, his voice low, as he glanced at you, "I’m really glad we had tonight. It was perfect."

You smiled, squeezing his hand, the warmth of his fingers against yours making your heart beat faster. "It really was."

As you neared the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, Fred stopped suddenly, his body turning toward you, and his eyes locked onto yours with a kind of heat that made your breath hitch. There was something in his gaze tonight—something different, something deeper.

"Stay safe, yeah?" he asked, his voice low and rough, like he was holding back. "I’d hate to think of anything happening to you after a night like this."

You teased, your voice softer than usual, a slight breathlessness in your words. "You worry too much."

"I don’t think I can help it when it comes to you," he said, his hand rising to brush the side of your face. His thumb traced the curve of your jaw, a slow, deliberate touch that sent a shiver down your spine.

You felt the air between you thickening, charged with an undeniable tension. For a moment, you just stood there, staring at each other, unable to look away. The heat between you two was palpable now, the kind of closeness that made everything else fade into the background.

"I’ll be fine, Fred," you whispered, but your voice faltered, and the words felt hollow against the current that was pulling you closer to him. "But I’d rather you stay."

Fred didn't speak right away. Instead, his thumb traced your lower lip, sending a surge of warmth through you. His eyes flickered down to your lips before locking onto your gaze again, the air between you thickening with unspoken desire.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice a soft rasp.

You could feel his hand on your neck, his fingers threading through your hair, and before you could respond, his lips were on yours, soft but insistent. The kiss was slow at first, testing, gentle. But as your bodies moved closer, the kiss deepened, and you felt the heat between you intensifying.

Fred gently guided you back, his hands resting on your waist as he led you toward the nearby bed. The back of your knees hit the edge, and in one swift but tender motion, Fred pushed you softly onto the mattress, hovering above you. His lips never left yours, and you could feel the warmth of his body against yours, the closeness making your heart race.

The kiss was a beautiful mix of passion and tenderness, each moment heightening the connection between you two. He pulled back just enough to look down at you, his expression serious now but filled with affection.

“You’re incredible,” he whispered, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face.

You smiled up at him, your hands resting on his chest. “So are you.”

There was a pause, the two of you just looking at each other, your breath coming a little faster. You felt his thumb trace the curve of your jaw, the simple touch sending shivers down your spine.

“You make me feel… different, in the best way,” Fred said, his voice hushed, full of sincerity.

You didn't respond at first, still lost in the lingering sensation of the kiss you two had just shared. The taste of him was still fresh on your lips, your heart racing with a mixture of excitement and warmth. The way his lips had pressed against yours, so gentle at first, then deepening with a hunger that had made your whole body respond—it was as though the world had narrowed down to just the two of you.

"Are you still there?" Fred's voice broke through the haze of your thoughts, his tone teasing, but there was a softness in his gaze that made your heart flutter.

You blinked, finally bringing yourself back to the present. Looking into his eyes, you nodded, not trusting yourself to speak just yet. His smirk grew, and before you could catch your breath, he leaned in again, this time with more intent. His lips met yours in a kiss that was far more urgent than the first. It wasn’t just a kiss now—it was as though he couldn’t get enough of you, his hands moving to cup your face as he deepened the kiss.

The world seemed to slip away again, the only sound in your ears, the steady rhythm of your breathing, the pounding of your hearts. You could feel the warmth of Fred’s body against yours, the heat of him pressing you back into the softness of the bed beneath you. His hands slid down your arms, tracing your skin with a light touch that made you shiver. You responded instinctively, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, if that was even possible.

His kiss became more demanding now, his lips moving with a passion that matched the storm swirling inside you. You could feel his pulse in sync with yours, the chemistry between you undeniable. Every touch, every movement, seemed to carry a deeper weight, a silent promise of something more. But you weren’t rushing. Neither of you were. This moment, this connection, was something worth savoring.

Fred’s hand moved slowly down your side, and for a moment, you froze—unsure whether you were ready to take this step, but then, he paused, his forehead resting against yours, and you could feel him searching your face for any sign of hesitation.

"Is this okay?" he whispered, his breath warm against your lips. The tenderness in his voice made your heart swell, and you found yourself nodding. There was no rush, no pressure, just the two of you, letting the moment unfold at its own pace.

"Yes," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper, but the certainty in your words made his eyes soften.

With a soft smile, Fred leaned in again, his kiss gentle, yet full of everything unspoken. His hands cupped your face again, holding you tenderly as though you were something precious, something he never wanted to lose. You melted into him, your body responding as if it had always known where it belonged—right here, in his arms.

As the kiss deepened again, your world spun in a dizzying, blissful swirl of emotions. You could feel his heart thundering in his chest, and yours followed in perfect time. His hands roamed, slow and deliberate, and with each touch, each whisper of his lips against yours, you felt the bond between you growing stronger.

And then, as you pulled back slightly, both of you breathing heavily, you rested your forehead against his, the world outside seeming to disappear entirely.

"I never want this night to end," Fred murmured, his voice rough and full of emotion.

"Me neither," you replied, your voice steady but filled with the depth of feeling that you could no longer keep hidden.

Still deep in the kiss, the two of you lost track of time. Your pulse raced, each touch igniting a warmth that spread through your entire body. But then, reluctantly, Fred pulled away, his lips lingering just above yours for a moment longer before he slowly opened his eyes.

You sighed, a soft whine escaping your lips at the sudden emptiness that followed his kiss. His gaze softened as he looked down at you, his expression a mix of tenderness and concern. There was something in his eyes, a silent question, as if asking if you were okay. You nodded, your heart hammering in your chest, and he seemed to understand, his lips curling into a small, reassuring smile.

"Are you sure?" he murmured, his voice quiet but steady, his hand brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

You nodded again, your hands finding his and squeezing gently. "I'm sure."

Fred's smile deepened, and with a slow but deliberate motion, he moved to carefully unzip the back of your dress, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine, but there was no hurry in his movements. He took his time, his gaze focused on you, as if savoring the moment.

The dress fell away, leaving you in your undergarments. Fred’s eyes flickered up to meet yours, his breath catching slightly. He didn’t say anything at first, just letting the silence stretch between you two. His fingers hovered over the hem of his own robes, and you noticed the teasing glint in his eyes as he took a step back.

"Patience, love," Fred said with a playful smirk, his voice low and full of warmth. "You’ll have all the time in the world."

You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, your heart beating faster as his words hung in the air. It wasn’t frustration, though, not really. It was anticipation—everything felt heightened, the connection between you two growing deeper with every passing second.

"You're impossible," you teased softly, but there was no real annoyance in your tone. You only wanted more of him, more of this moment, but you could feel the power in his calmness. The way he moved, how he made you feel—like everything was on his terms, yet somehow he always made you feel cherished.

"I know," Fred said with a grin, stepping closer again, his fingers brushing against your arm as he gently guided you to sit back on the bed. "But you’re the one who keeps me on my toes, aren’t you?"

Your lips met again, this time slower, more deliberate. The kiss was still filled with that same heat, but there was a tenderness in it that made your heart swell. Fred’s hand cupped your face, his thumb gently tracing your jawline as he deepened the kiss, pulling you closer. You could feel the strength of his arms, the way he held you, not to control you, but to keep you safe within his embrace.

Everything around you seemed to fade into the background as you melted into him, your fingers tracing the fabric of his robes as you felt the warmth of his body against yours. The night had become more than just a kiss—it was an unspoken promise, a bond growing stronger with every shared moment.

When the kiss finally broke, your foreheads rested against one another, both of you catching your breath. The air between you felt heavy with meaning, the unspoken emotions and desires lingering like an invisible thread tethering you together. It wasn’t just the kiss—it was everything that had been building between you two, a connection that ran deeper than words.

"Don’t worry," Fred whispered, his breath warm and steady against your skin. His voice was softer than usual, carrying a gentleness that sent a wave of reassurance through you. "I’m not going anywhere."

You smiled faintly, trying to inject some levity into the intensity of the moment. "I know that—you’d never leave dear ol’ me," you quipped, your voice light but your heart pounding.

Fred’s lips curled into a smirk, his signature confidence still shining through. "I wouldn’t dream of it," he replied, his tone playful yet undeniably sincere.

He leaned in again, this time his hands moving with deliberate care. His fingers brushed along your shoulders, trailing down to the clasp of your bra. He hesitated for just a moment, his eyes meeting yours, silently seeking permission. You gave him the smallest of nods, your chest tightening with anticipation. With practiced care, he undid the clasp and let the fabric fall away.

"Beautiful," he murmured, his voice so soft it was almost a whisper. His gaze dipped for a moment, his eyes tracing over you with an awe that made your cheeks flush. It wasn’t just the way he looked at you—it was the way he made you feel seen, as though you were the only thing in the world that mattered to him at that moment.

Fred straightened slightly, his hands moving to the buttons of his shirt. His pace quickened as he undressed himself, his usual teasing nature giving way to an eagerness that matched your own. You watched him, your eyes trailing over every movement, but your mind was already racing ahead, anticipation building with every second.

Soon, the both of you were left in little more than the bare minimum. Fred stood before you in his boxers, and you in your panties, the weight of the moment pressing between you. His gaze returned to yours, filled with a mix of excitement and something deeper—concern, perhaps, or maybe reverence.

"You’re sure about this, sweetie?" His voice was steady, though you could hear the faintest tremor of excitement beneath it. His words carried more than just a question; they carried a promise to stop at any moment, to ensure this was what you truly wanted.

"Fred," you replied softly, your voice unwavering despite the butterflies in your stomach. "I’ve never been so sure in my life."

At your words, his expression softened, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Alright then," he said quietly, leaning in to press his lips to yours again. This kiss was different—slower, deeper, carrying with it an unspoken understanding. His hands roamed your body, each touch deliberate and reverent, while your fingers found their way to his face, cupping his cheeks as though to ground yourself in the moment.

He pulled back for a breath, his hands trailing lower, brushing the edge of your underwear. Fred’s gaze met yours again, his eyes searching, asking the question one last time without words. Are you sure?

You nodded, this time more confidently, your heart racing with a mix of nerves and excitement. Fred’s lips twitched into a small smile as his fingers hooked into the waistband, carefully sliding the fabric down. The movement was slow, deliberate, as though he wanted to give you every chance to change your mind. But you didn’t—you couldn’t. You wanted this, wanted him.

As he discarded the final barrier between you, Fred paused for a moment, taking in the sight of you. His expression was one of quiet reverence, as though he couldn’t quite believe you were real. He quickly rid himself of his own boxers, and for a moment, the two of you stood there, bare and vulnerable in every sense of the word.

Fred stepped closer, his hands finding your waist and pulling you gently toward him. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, but it was his eyes—the way they held yours with such intensity—that made your breath catch.

"This," he murmured, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke, "this isn’t just tonight. You know that, right?"

"I know," you whispered back, your voice barely audible. "I trust you."

And with that, Fred’s hands caressed your waist, his thumbs tracing soft, reassuring circles against your skin. The warmth of his touch contrasted with the cool air, making you shiver despite the heat radiating between you. 

[holyblonded]

american eagle screech | golden girl

pairings: paige bueckers x barca!reader

summary: the beginning of it all

warnings: douchebag frat boy, alcohol,

notes: lowkey a slow start but it’s only chapter one 🫡just so yall know kenza could’ve handled herself but i needed a plot 😭✊🏾

THE BRIGHT STADIUM LIGHT ILLUMINATES THE NIGHT SKY AND FELT LIKE IT WAS BURNING KENZA'S SKIN AS SHE RECEIVES THE BALL.

"Creoxells receives the ball from Lewis. She dribbles down the fields. Creoxells charges through the defenders!" Kenza could hear both the announcer and crowd scream as she launches the ball into the net just as the buzzer for the end of the game fills the open arena, bringing the score to 3-0 with two of the goals belonging to Kenza. Kenza's teammates ran to her to celebrate as Kenza tried to slink to the tunnel quietly. The  smile on her face grew when she spotted her friends in the crowd cheering her on.

"Yale wins the soccer game folks!"

Kenza could hear the crowd do their usual chant for her, "Long Live the King," as she searched deeper in the crowd and locked eyes with Paige to blow her a kiss.

“Just fuck already,” Nika mumbled making Paige send her a death glare.

Paige's hands are always freezing. Kenza's hands are always so warm. So maybe that explains the butterflies that erupts in Paige's stomach when Kenza held her hands much like this moment, when the Creoxells girl led them into a celebration party for the soccer team. Paige couldn't take her eyes off of Kenza in her crochet bra with a green long skirt. The traditional waist beads were hidden by the skirt but the outline was prominent enough for the basketball player to admire.

"-aige. Paige! Did you hear a word I said," Kenza stops in her tracks to pouted at the 6 foot girl. Kenza herself was 5'8" yet whenever she was around Paige or others from the basketball team, they managed to make her feel short.

"My bad, Kenny, what were you saying?" Paige kept a tighter grip on the girl's hand as they began maneuvering through the crowd again.

"I asked when do you want to leave this place. Personally, I would rather be watching the Princess and the Frog right now."

"Kenny, this party is literally for you and it's only 8pm," Paige laughs at the girl who groaned into her chest. "Tell you this, if we stay for about an hour just so some people see you then we can go, I promise."

Kenza stared at the basketball star outstretched pinky until she interlocked their pinkies and kissed it with Paige doing the same. The athletes moment was swiftly interrupted by their favorite freshman tackling Kenza to the ground.

"Kenzie-pooh! You did amazing. You played just like me back if the old days when I dabbled in soccer," KK rambles as she was pushed off of Kenza by Azzi who hugged her and kissed her cheek.

"You did great, Kenz," Aubrey congratulated as said girl was now hugged by Nika. Paige side eyed her teammates as she watched them steal her friend away from her, but she couldn't blame them. Kenza's smile could light up anyone's day and her positive aura was known to draw people towards her.

"You need an edit with the American eagle screech on it," KK added the screech at the end to emphasize her point, making Kenza giggle.

"Kamorea, you are so cute," Kenza replied hugging her junior.

"Aw shucks," KK fake blushed and playfully swatted Kenza. The conversations kept going between the group for awhile. Kenza's stunning smile plastered on her face as she laughed at her friends jokes and banter. The girl lets out a sigh before talking into Paige's ear due to the loud music, "I'm gonna get a drink really quick."

Paige looked down at her before copying her actions and bending down slightly to talk to the girl, "Do you want me to go with you?"

"Don't worry Paige, I'll be fine," Kenza said before making her way to get her Sprite, with Paige staring until she was out of sight.

"Paige please tell her how you feel already. We can't do this anymore," KK groaned.

"She doesn't like me like that, I promise," Paige gave the same usual excuse making her friends roll their eyes.

"Listen, we have both known Kenza for awhile and I know that she never looks at her girlfriends the same way she looks at you," Azzi pointed out.

Paige looked at the time on her phone as the hour time was up. Paige sighed and got up from her chair, "I think y'all are delusional and seeing things. Kenny doesn't like me the way I like her. Never have, never will. I gotta go cause I promised her we can go watch Princess and the Frog."

The group of friends watched Paige walk away. "She's whipped."

Meanwhile, it had taken Kenza a few tries before she found the cooler filled with sodas in the partially secluded area. She opened the can and turned around only to be met they a human wall in front of her, that went by the name of Connor James.

"Kenza, if you wanted me you should've just told me," he began. Kenza recoiled at the sight of him as well as the stench of alcohol on his breath.

"First, don't call me that. Second, I don't want you. Matter of fact I don't even want to be in the same room you are in so excuse me," Kenza attempted to move around him but was stopped by his gnarled hand on her elbow.

"Don't touch me," Kenza tried to break free of his hold but was unsuccessful as his grip tightened.

"Come on babe, I saw the kiss you blew to me at the game, don't be like that," Connor said, trying to pull her closer to him. At that moment, Connor was harshly pushed to the floor by a blonde figure.

"What's your issue, Bueckers!" Connor yelled, holding his head.

"You didn't hear her say not to touch her?" Paige responds as she stands directly in front of Kenza.

"Fuck off, Bueckers. Is she your girlfriend or something?"

Something about his statement seemed to send Paige over the top. She was blinded by rage and nothing could stop her. "Yeah she is, what are you gonna do now?" Paige seals the deal by wrapping her arm around Kenza's waist and pulling her close.

Connor got up, looking like a fish out of water before stomping away.

Paige turned her head, focusing all her attention on the girl in front of her. "Are you okay? Did he touch you?"

Kenza smiled and kissed Paige on the cheek, making the blonde's cheeks paint red. "Thank you, Paige."

"Let's go and watch Princess and the Frog.”

[bingwriterxo]

a clingy drunk

pairing: amber freeman x reader

summary: in which you get a little too drunk at one of amber's parties

warnings: implications of sex, mentions of alcohol poisoning

word count: 1900+

author's note: this was a request (find here!) hope yall enjoy :D

“So, is tonight just the group or is it the whole school?” you asked, your eyes trained on your own reflection as you tried to do your hair in the style that always drove Amber wild. You glanced behind you in the mirror, catching sight of your girlfriend as she looked through her closet for something to wear.

“The whole school,” Amber answered, pulling a cropped shirt from its hanger and holding it up for you to see. “Thoughts?”

You gulped, nodding quickly. “Definitely. Wear it with those low-waisted jeans you got the other day.”

She hummed as she crossed the room, shirt in hand, and leaned down, her chin resting on your shoulder. Her eyes locked with yours in the mirror, and she asked, “Making yourself all pretty for me?”

You shivered at her words, her warm breath fanning against your cheek. “Yeah, Ambs,” you agreed, turning your head to peck her on the cheek. “All pretty for you.”

Amber grinned, leaning in to kiss you. “My pretty girl,” she mumbled against your lips, and butterflies circled your stomach, making you beam with joy. She stood and left your side, going to dig through her dresser for the pants that you had mentioned earlier. 

You carried on with styling your hair, humming along to the quiet music that was playing in the room. You loved when things were like this--both of you existing in the same space yet doing your own things; it was pure domesticity.

Amber’s voice cut through your concentration, drawing your eyes back to her through the mirror. “Baby?” she began, her voice soft and lulling. You swore up and down that you could fall asleep to it. 

“Yeah?” 

“Try not to drink too much tonight, alright? I don’t want to have to call the ambulance again.”

You shuddered at the memory of what had happened at Amber’s last party nearly a month prior. Chad and Mindy had egged you into trying your first keg stand, and, upon successfully completing it, they decided to celebrate by feeding you shot after shot of tequila. Needless to say, the night had ended with you being rolled out on a stretcher, Amber following behind with wide, worried eyes, and having your stomach pumped. 

“I definitely won’t be drinking that much tonight,” you promised. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

She smiled, and your heart fluttered at the sight. “Good.” She pulled the jeans from her drawer, a mischievous smirk on her lips and a familiar spark in her eyes. “Wanna help me get changed?”

You leapt from your seat and rushed toward her, giggling the whole time. 

* * *

For a good hour, you kept your promise to Amber. While people were still filing into her house, you simply wandered around, offering half-assed greetings to your peers and sipping at your beer; every so often, you’d pester your girlfriend for her phone so that you could change the song, or you’d just walk right up to her and plant a kiss on her lips--she never complained about either. 

However, when your friends arrived, your night was quickly turned around.

“Y/N! My favorite girl!” Chad cheered as he walked through the front door, a six-pack of beer dangling from his fingertips. He pulled you into a tight hug, ignoring as you deftly swiped a drink from the case. “How you doing tonight? You ready to get fucked up?!”

“Not too fucked up, Chad,” Mindy interjected as she sidled up beside him, grinning at you. “Can’t have you in the hospital again, can we? Took me days to get that smoothie out of my hair.”

Unfortunately for the twins, at school the day after your little…incident, Amber had taken it upon herself to avenge you, resulting in both Meeks-Martin kids going home early with smoothie dripping from the tops of their heads.

“Definitely ready to get mildly fucked up,” you said, laughing.

Chad frowned. “We can do better than mildly.”

You looked around, making sure Amber wasn’t within earshot, and said, “As long as Ambs isn’t watching, then I’m all in.”

It didn’t take much time for the twins to get you more than mildly drunk. Within half an hour, you were slurring your words and swaying where you stood, your cheeks flushed a bright red and your eyelids drooping. 

“Oh, we’re fucked,” Mindy stated when she realized just how intoxicated you were, her eyes flitting from person to person to see if your girlfriend was anywhere in sight. 

Chad shook his head, taking a sip from his beer. “We’re only fucked if Amber notices,” he said.

“Amber!” you gasped suddenly, your eyes going wide at the mention of your girlfriend. You whipped your head around, stumbling backward and into Mindy’s arms at the force, searching for the raven-haired girl. “Where is she?”

“Uh, I’m not too sure,” Mindy said, glancing at her brother. “Do you need her?”

You twisted around and nodded furiously at Mindy, your face taking on the most serious expression she had ever seen. “Yes. Need her now.”

Chad furrowed his eyebrows, placing his drink down on the nearest surface he could reach. He put his hands on your shoulders, forcing you to face him. “And why do you need Amber?” he asked.

You sighed dreamily, pulse speeding up at the thought of the girl. “‘Cause I love her,” you slurred. “Love her so much. Just want to squeeze her little cheeks.” You mimicked the action with your hands, scrunching your face up as you did. 

Mindy chuckled. “As if Amber would let you squeeze her cheeks.”

“Oh, she does,” you said, your voice convincing. “All the time. She likes it.”

“Are we talking about the same Amber?”

“Why would I want to squeeze a different Amber’s cheeks?” you asked, dead serious, and Chad barked out a laugh. You looked at him, confusion painted on your face. “I only love my Amber. I promise.”

“Oh, I know, champ.” He patted you on the top of your head. “Everyone knows. But, right now, you can’t have Amber because--”

“Because what?” Amber asked, and you squealed at the sight of her standing behind Mindy. You pushed yourself out of Chad’s grip and hurried toward her, immediately wrapping your arms around her waist and burying your face into her neck. She was left a little disoriented but no less loving as she quickly hugged you back.

“Baby!” you exclaimed, and she flinched back at your voice so loud in her ear.

“Hi, pretty girl,” she cooed quietly, running her fingers through your hair before settling her sight on the twins. “Why is she so…excited?”

“She’s a little drunk,” Mindy said. 

Amber’s eyes narrowed. “How much is ‘a little,’ Mindy?”

“Four beers and three shots,” Chad offered, cringing when Amber’s jaw clenched. 

“I thought I told you guys not to let her drink that much tonight!” Amber chided, her hold on you tightening. You nuzzled further into her. “You remember what happened last time, don’t you?” There was a threat in her voice as she spoke, her tone sharp and demanding, and both twins squirmed beneath her glare.

“She’s fine, Freeman. She’s just…really set on being with you right now, that’s all,” Mindy told the other girl. 

Chad nodded. “Yeah. She’s at about that point in the night where if you leave her alone, she might cry.”

Amber sighed and glanced down at you. “Guess I just won’t leave her alone, then.” She looked back at the twins. “At least, not with you two. Don’t you dare give her another drink tonight. Or else.”

Both twins raised their arms in surrender, taking a few steps back as Amber nodded, satisfied with their reaction. 

“Come on, baby,” Amber said to you. “Let’s go find Tara because I need to get more drinks from the basement.”

Almost immediately, you hugged her tighter, shaking your head. “No,” you whined, and Amber couldn’t help but think it was cute how determined you were to stay with her. She grinned as you emphasized the thought. “Only wanna be with you.”

You looked up, smiling at your girlfriend. You kissed her before raising an arm to squeeze her cheek. She blushed at the action, shooting a deathly glare toward her friends as you cooed like she was a puppy. 

“You’re the cutest person ever,” you said. “I just wanna be with you forever and ever and ever.”

She blushed even harder. “I love you, too, baby,” she said in response, because she’d have rather died than say something so cheesy where Mindy could hear her. “Now, can we please go find Tara so she can watch you while I run to the basement?”

Your face soured. “Depends. How long will you be?”

“Not even a minute.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, stuck in deep thought, and finally decided, “Okay. Fine. But can we cuddle after?”

Mindy tilted her head behind you, mouthing ‘Yeah, Amber. Can we cuddle?’ with a sly smirk. Amber had never been so tempted to tackle her to the ground. 

Through gritted teeth, she said, “Of course,” even though, in reality, she would have loved nothing more, but, again, she couldn’t let Mindy know that. 

“Yay!” you cheered, unraveling yourself from Amber. You intertwined your fingers with hers and let her pull you through the crowds in search for her brunette best friend, her thumb rubbing along the skin of your hand comfortingly as she did. 

It took a few minutes before you finally found Tara. She was sitting on the couch, a drink in her hand as she talked to Wes. Her head tilted when her eyes landed on you and Amber, lips quirking into a smile at your clearly drunk state.

“Did Chad and Mindy get to her?” she asked Amber, who nodded with a huff.

“Unfortunately,” Amber drawled. “Could you keep an eye on her? We’re out of beer. I need to grab more from the fridge downstairs.”

You frowned, like you had forgotten all about the fact that Amber needed to get more drinks. “Can’t I come with you?” you asked hopefully.

“I don’t think you could make it down the stairs like this, baby. Just stay here with Tara and Wes, okay?” She kissed you quickly before pulling away. When your frown deepened, she added "I'll be two seconds."

“Okay,” you grumbled, throwing yourself onto the couch between your friends and watching as your girlfriend disappeared in the direction of the basement.

“So, having a good night so far, Y/N?” Tara asked. 

You sighed, crossing your arms. “Guess so.”

“You don’t sound too happy,” Wes pointed out.

“I miss Amber,” you huffed. 

Tara chuckled. “She’ll be back soon. You’re a clingy drunk, huh?”

“No,” you denied, even though it was obviously the truth. “Just like being around Ambs. She’s so pretty, and cute, and she always makes me laugh, and she’s a really good kis--”

Amber appeared in front of you, a grin on her face, and you cut yourself off, hopping off the couch and right back into her arms. 

“You’re back!” you exclaimed.

She laughed. “I told you I wouldn’t be long.”

You pressed a kiss to the side of her jaw. “Can we go upstairs and cuddle?” you murmured, and Amber nearly melted. 

“Sure, baby. C’mon.” She started to walk away, you close behind, before she stopped and looked back at Tara. “Just…kick people out when it gets late, okay? I probably won’t be back down.”

Tara grinned at her. “Have fun, kids.”

Amber rolled her eyes and started leading you toward the stairs, trying to calm the fluttering of her heart as you chanted, “Cuddles! Cuddles! Cuddles!”

[finelinevogue]

parisian love

summary - you are a little self conscious of your feelings in the city of love

word count: ~1.5k

pairing: boyfriend!harry x reader

a/n: harry had been looking too good lately so i had to write a little blurb about him again <3

“Quit it, will you.” Harry interrupted your scary glare towards your waitress.

You humphed and crossed your arms over your chest, leaning back against the little garden chair in the quaint Parisian cafe.

It was a gorgeous day in Paris and you and Harry were enjoying it together on his day off. Touring was always u such a hectic schedule, but Harry always made sure there was time for you.

Today he has suggested going to a cafe for brunch, seeing as all you’d been showing him were the infamous hot chocolates they serve here along with buttery croissants. You’d been waiting for the opportunity to have one, so Harry was treating you.

Only, the waitress was slightly ruining the experience by flirting with your, clearly, boyfriend.

“So you be the bigger person and be the one to quit it.” He replied calmly.

“So you be the bigger person and be the one to quit it.” He replied calmly.

His sunglasses and his hat shielded much of him away from the public, but clearly not enough for the waitress not to be all over him.

She kept making subtle touches to his shoulder, obvious glances towards his open chest where his linen shirt was unbuttoned and you could’ve sworn some buttons on her shirt had been undone since you arrived.

You picked up your hot chocolate and tried to let the smooth and sweet drink override your jealousy.

It wasn’t often that you were a jealous girlfriend, since you had to deal with it day in and day out, but sometimes it all got a little too overwhelming.

Especially in Paris.

All this trip you’d had this deep and unsettling anxiety in your chest. It made your chest feel hollow and your throat really clogged up. Your stomach was constantly full of anxious butterflies and you couldn’t bring yourself to confront as to why.

Harry was reading a tourist booklet about Paris, whilst you sat and people watched.

When you feel his hand cup your exposed knee, due to you wearing a pretty pink summers dress, you turn your head away from the people and focus on him.

“Hm?” You ask.

“I said, do you want to go on a walk after this?” Harry asked again, the first time having gone amiss to you.

“Oh, um, sure.” You gave him a small smile.

“I think there might be a garden around here that we can wander around.” He pointed to a page in the small book he was holding, but you get lost in thought again.

Harry returns to his book and before long the waitress comes back over.

You watched her put her hand on your boyfriends shoulder and look away just as quickly, in case you say something that will get you in trouble.

“Can I get you anything else today?” She asked Harry.

You sip your hot chocolate until it’s gone, having had enough of this.

You stand up abruptly, rattling the table a little. You turn to face the woman and notice that her hand is no longer on Harry’s body, but she is still stood rather close to him.

“I think I’m going to go somewhere where I don’t have to see another girl flirting with my boyfriend.” You say to her and watch her face void of emotions.

You look down at Harry, who looks up at the two of you with the same blank expression. You can’t tell whether he’s angry or annoyed, but you have a feeling it’s somewhere in between.

After gulping down the stone at the back of your throat that threatens the tears, you get up and walk off slowly so not to draw any more attention to yourself.

You sniffle your way out of the café and start heading down the road back to the hotel.

After an argument with Harry, sometimes you would walk off, similar to this, but what always happened is that Harry would follow you. Always a few meters behind, but he could never leave you fully alone after an argument and he would always find the fastest way to make it up to you.

A spare bench was located on the crest of a hill, where the rest of the city could be seen below.

You sat down and held your bag in your lap, opening the zip to find a pack of tissues with shaky hands. You took one out and dabbed at the corner of your eyes lightly, so not to smudge your eye makeup.

The view was gorgeous, but it was easily forgotten about when Harry sat down next to you.

He sat with a couple feet of space between you and as much as he hated it, he respected you want for space.

“M’sorry.” You spoke first, after a couple minutes of silence.

“You don’t have anything to apologise for, baby.” Harry comforted you by reaching one his arms along the back of the bench and stroking one of his fingers, gently, over the back of your neck. It was a reminder that he was really here for you.

At the subtle gesture, you sniffled and dived over to his side of the bench to snuggle up against the side of his body. Your head found home against his shoulder and his head rested atop of yours, after he left a little kiss there. His arm snaked around the back of your body and rested his hand on your outside hip.

You sniffled again and tried to control your watery eyes.

“What’s got you so sad, hm?” He asked.

“I hate being jealous.”

“Why?”

“Makes me look childish and insecure.”

“I don’t think it does, babe. I think it shows me how much you love me. You’re willing to get upset when someone else shows interest in me. It’s weird to say, but I find it comforting that you don’t want me for anyone else. The same as I don’t want you belonging to anyone else. I like you as mine.” His arm squeezes you a bit in reassurance.

“It’s nice when you put it that way.” You smiled, even though he can’t see.

“It’s okay for you to get jealous, Y/N/N. I just don’t like the idea of you getting proper upset over me.”

“You mean so much to me, Harry, i’m just scared it’s to good to be true being with you.”

“Well, how about we take each other for each day we have together and let what feelings we have for each override any fears or insecurities. Hey?”

“That sounds good.”

You both fall silent for a little bit, people watching as the sun sets over the city of love. It’s gorgeous how the sky burns a palette of oranges and yellows, you’ll probably never get over its beauty.

When you start giggling to yourself Harry perks up conversation again.

“What?” He asked with a slight giggle himself.

“Just thinking about how if you weren’t a musician you would make a good therapist.” You relay your thoughts to him.

“Oh definitely. I’d be good at any job.” You can’t see it, but Harry smiled down at you because he is happy now that you are.

“Oh really?” You laughed.

“Yeah. Try me.”

“Umm? A chef?”

“Oui oui. I have watched Ratatouille before.”

“Why are you a French chef?” You asked, giggling away the tears.

“Because we’re in the city of love, mon ami.” He laid on a thick English accent to answer your question, making you prod him in his tummy for being so annoying.

“Okay Chef.” This time Harry tickled you in your side instead. “Stop! Okay, um, what about… A firefighter?”

“You just want to see me in my suspenders again.” Harry laughed so loud that people turned to see what was so funny. You buried your head further into his body until your blushed cheeks passed over.

“Do not.” You counter argued.

“Do too. I know you do, because Lambert showed me his texts with you the other day of you demanding he bring the suspenders back to tour.”

“Ugh. He’s such a snitch.”

“Big Brother is watching you.” He referenced.

“Don’t refer to yourself as Big Brother again, you weirdo.” You laughed at him. You go to hit him playfully on his tummy again, but instead Harry caught your hand in his and brought it to his lips to play. He didn’t let it go afterwards, instead he chose to hold it tight.

Both of you go back to silence again, going back to people watching individually.

The sun had gotten lower now and there were more people coming into the city for a night out. You and Harry were going to be cuddled up in bed watching a Disney movie by the time these people enter their first club. The life of an introvert, you, loving and extrovert, Harry, meant you did very introverted activities together.

“Harry?” You asked quietly.

“Yes, m’love.”

“Can I ask you a question? And before you answer, I don’t mean for this question to start an argument between us but I am just genuinely curious.”

“You’ve got me a little worried now, babe, but go on. I trust you.” He replied and you shift a little in your position to gauge his facial expression.

“When you’re in Paris, o-or France for that matter, do you ever think about Camille? Like, do you get sad about her or feel anything?” You breathed out, but continue just as quickly, “Again, I’m not asking to provoke you, but I’m just thinking that someone of her importance in your life must have left an impression on you. Maybe, in turn, making you think about her at times like this?”

As soon as you’d asked your question, a wave of relief rolled off your shoulders. You couldn’t explain how freeing it was to have asked that. It was like that unexplained anxiety from the past few days had come from that question alone.

“Thank you for asking for politely, baby, first of all.” Harry kissed your forehead. “And since you were honest with me, I’ll be honest with you.”

“Okay.” You nodded a bit nervously.

“I do think of her.” He answered the way you were least hoping him to, but let him continue anyways, “But not in the way you think. When I think about her now I am always thinking of you, too. I rarely do think about her, because why would I need to, but sometimes certain moments will take me back and you’ll be there to get rid of those thoughts again.”

“I-I don’t think I understand.” You say.

“It’s like when we went for a coffee run the other morning and you happened to choose the same coffee shop that I’d been to previously with Camille. In that coffee shop, in that moment, all I could think about was how much happier I was to be standing there with you than I had ever been with her ever. I thought about, and still do, how lucky I am to have found someone that loves me just as equally as I love them.” He paused briefly, “So, do I think about her? Yes, but only because I’m reminded of how much more happiness and love and life I have gained from choosing you.”

You stared at him throughout his tiny speech and a little bit afterwards too. His eyes watered at the sight of yours watering - which you could tell even through his sunglasses.

“I need another tissue.” You laughed out through a couple of tears.

Before you could go diving in your bag, Harry cupped your chin with his fingers and drew your mouth close to his. He kissed you so feverishly that you would think it was your last one ever.

He pulled away with a pout, “I love you. I’ll always choose you. It’s you, forever, baby.” He kissed you once more with force. “Always. It’s a promise.

[postmodernbeliever]

fox mulder nsfw alphabet (for female/feminine readers)

an a-z of what's it's like to be loved by fox mulder in allllll the ways you wish you could be.

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i’ve never made one of these before so i followed another post’s example! a lot of this is chubby-girl friendly but also works for any body type. also, i got carried away so enjoy how long this is LOL. <3

my ao3 | word count: 3,537

content tags: smut smut smut SO MUCH SMUT, dom fox mulder, soft fox mulder, nsfw alphabet challenge, lots of kinks but i don't wanna spoil you gotta read it :), mentions of period/period blood, cross-posted on ao3

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a: aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

he is sweet. like, really sweet. he loves to be gentle, to tell you how pretty you are and how good you did for him, praising you up and down and giving you lots of slow, adoring kisses. he also tends to get a bit bashful, because even if he just fucked you senseless you still give him butterflies; so often he hides his face in the crook of your neck or lays on your stomach, and talks quietly, like he’s shy. all his guards are down, and he is wholly dependent and doting on you.

actionwise, he cleans you up and helps you into some clean pajamas, but he usually leaves you bottom-less because you tend to be sensitive and the feeling of fabric between your legs can be an overload on your senses. but he covers you however he can, and he combs through your hair, gets you water, helps you get comfortable in bed. he’s so gentle it’s straight-up dreamy. 

b: body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

on himself, fox likes his hands. he knows they’re pretty big, considering he’s a bit tall, and he thinks they look strong, but he takes more pride in them also being soft. he has some callouses, but the pads of his fingers are smooth. and when he met you, you told him how nice they looked and felt, and that won him over.

on you, he can’t pick between your love handles/waist and thighs. he loves to squeeze where you have the most skin, and both of those places are where your body curves. he loves your softer edges, and because his hands are big, he can grab a lot more of you. he also loves how you react to him touching you in these places- you’re sensitive there, and you shiver when he drags his fingers across you or grips you hard. your reaction plays a big part in favoriting those spots. (bonus: he loves your hands too, because they’re smaller than his and caress his face softly… and scratch up his back. we'll get to that later.)

c: cum (anything to do with cum)  

you actually tease him about this a lot, because he gets really eager sometimes and can’t hold it in. he’s developed a routine where he takes his time with you and draws your pleasure out as long as he can because he knows the second he starts actually fucking you, he won’t last long; and he is so much more interested in letting you be the one who receives, he gets off on stringing you out. also, it takes you a while to cum, so his pleasure-driven role is that much more important to him, because he will not stop until you do. and he loves when you finally cum way more than when he does. he likes to taste you, and make you taste yourself when he kisses you with coated lips. 

d: dirty secret

the night of the first day he met you, he had an insanely vivid wet dream about you. even having been with you intimately plenty of times now, he gets nervous to bring it up, because when you’re not around, he still draws on that dream to get off to. it's kind of his guilty pleasure. in it, you drag him into his office at work and let him eat you out on his desk, all over his files and papers. you were in a pleated schoolgirl skirt, and you kept it on for him to tug at. one day he’ll tell you (probably) and buy you a skirt, just so he can have the real thing. 

e: experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

the majority of his experience comes from all the porn he’s watched. despite his drive, he was always the one to take it slow with past girlfriends, and either they didn’t stick around long enough to wait for him, or when he did sleep with them, he didn’t have enough practice to make it how they wanted it. but he paid attention to how girls like to be touched and fantasized about being good at those parts. when he met you, you were even more inexperienced than him, so everything he did was like heaven to you, and he only gets better each time. he feels lucky to have you to learn with because you’re patient and you love everything he does, so he doesn’t feel pressure. 

f: favorite position

fox is somewhat old-fashioned. he loves missionary because it’s simple, and he can kiss you more that way, and it’s easy to be gentle or rough depending on what you both want. he also likes standing missionary for the same reason, particularly for times when you want him to be rougher. but the freaky part of him likes these because he wants to watch you surrender, to see all of you beneath him, powerless, as he brings you to climax. he wants to see your eyes haze over, how you struggle to speak while he pins you down. that way, you’re all his.

fox also really loves cowgirl, because he can still see all of you that way, but when you’re feeling particularly eager he likes letting you do the work. you’re still submissive even on top, because he needs to guide your hips and tell you to keep moving. he likes cowgirl even more when you ride him while he’s upright, like against the headboard or in a chair, because you bury your face in his neck as you work, and he loves being so close to you. plus, it took you little to no time to figure out exactly how to ride him right. and because he cums so fast most of the time, you usually ride him through his overstimulation, which puts him out of commission for the night. he can get obsessive about how good that one feels. 

g: goofy (are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)

he can be, because he’s naturally got a goofy streak. but unless you’re feeling giggly or playful, he just falls into that mode of being soft and dominant, talking dirty, and trying to fluster you. 

h: hair (how well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

he keeps it trim just for hygiene, but you expressed a lack of concern for that, especially since you don’t always keep yourself trim either. it can be tedious to always be clean-shaven (and he doesn’t mind if you’re a little hairy, just like you don’t care if he is.) but, he does not touch his chest hair, because you are vehement that he keeps it. 

i: intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

god, he is so intimate that it can leave you blushing for days after the fact. he does nothing but kiss and nip and lick, mouth and hands always on you; always whispering pretty things in your ears, dirty and gentle about how good you feel and smell and sound, about how pretty you look when he’s inside you. and innocent things, too. he tells you how pretty your tummy is, and your collarbones, every little part of your body gets admired. he tells you about how he loves your laugh and your smile, and how he's so lucky to have you all to himself. he takes every chance to make you feel cherished and important. he tells you how in love he is over and over like a mantra so that by the time he’s got you in the clouds, all you can think is he loves me, he loves me, he loves me… 

j: jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he jacks off fairly often, but only because he’s usually thinking of you. if you’re not around or he’s away on a case, he gets needy and takes matters into his own hands, because he can’t help his dirty mind. he’s done it everywhere- his office, the work bathroom, in just about every room in his house. and, though he’d probably never admit it to you, he likes to hold your clothes sometimes when he does, because the smell of your perfume drives him crazy. he always takes something of yours when he goes away, just in case.

k: kink (one or more of their kinks)

okay, he’s got a few, but mainly because they’re kinks based on how you act or what he wants for you. so we’ll start with the kinks surrounding your pleasure: 

obvious by now, praise. he loooves to praise. he’s crazy about you and how you make him feel, both emotionally and physically; he’s protective and loving, and he prizes you. he would make you cum just with words if he could. he adores pet names and anything he can call you, he will- princess, sweetheart, darling, honey, love, all of it. especially good girl, his personal favorite. he wants you to feel like the most special girl in the world because, to him, you are.

fox loves begging. he likes it for him, he likes to beg you for more, but he prefers when you beg. there’s something about watching you need him, and how your voice gets high-pitched and disgustingly lewd as you tell him what you want him to do. he loves being in control. 

daddy!subspace. there are times when fox gets a little too into it, and you fall into a subspace. he loves this, especially yours, because you mix his name up with daddy, and every freudian instinct in his brain fires like crazy. he loves when you call him daddy, because that opens the praise door nice and wide, and he loves helping you come down after, because you get so flushed and nervous and you’re simply adorable when you need help speaking and asking for what you want. 

now, fox’s personal kinks still have to do with you, but they're out of his own selfishness: 

belly bulges. it’s no surprise because he’s so possessive, but something inside him snaps than when he takes your hand and presses it against the pudge of your tummy, where you can feel his cock poking against your walls. he loves being just big enough to fill you, and he loves how you go cross-eyed every time he does this, too- it’s just as hot for you as it is for him. 

hands. he loves your hands and he wants them on him always, scratching him, marking his body with little red lines. they’re just small enough to make him feel big, and he loves your painted nails, too. he loves it when you pull on his shirt or his belt loops. he loves when you press them all over his face and chest because you don’t know what to do with them. he also loves to use his hands on you, to wrap softly around your neck and wrists, to pin your hips down, to push inside you; he has a penchant for sticking his thumbs in your mouth while he fucks you, too, because you always suck them like it’s your job. but there’s nothing like your hands on him. 

here’s the big one: your period. fox likes making you a pillow princess, but he’s a monster when it comes to your period. you were worried when he said he didn’t mind the blood, but that first time he ate you during your time of the month was otherworldly. he loves the extra sensitivity you have, because it takes little to nothing to get you screaming, and some dark part of him loves to smear your blood all across his mouth and his chin. he loves to kiss you with those lips, leaving bloody prints up your stomach and chest, all over your neck and mouth. he craves the mess, the taboo nature of it all, and he loves how it’s a way of gently defiling you; mixing your blood with his spit, with his cum, it makes you his and him yours. maybe there’s a screw loose on his part, but if cannibalism didn’t mean you’d die, he’d fucking eat you whole. he even likes the taste. like i said, obsessive- but it’s kind of hot, isn't it?

l: location (favorite places to do the do)

honestly, anywhere. just the fact that you want him is good enough. he’s gotten you off in restaurant bathrooms, and at family homes during holidays when you just needed him and couldn’t wait. but he is partial to his couch or his bed because he likes having you all to himself in his own space.

m: motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

acting stupid. he loves when you ask him to explain things to you, even if you understand on your own, because he likes teaching you; he also gets all hot and bothered when you pout or frown, or bat your eyelashes innocently, saying “can you start at the beginning?” or “can you go a little slower for me?”. because he knows you’re smart and the slight frustration of you acting like you’re not mixed with the need to pamper you gets him going like crazy.

saying his name. if you call him fox, or sometimes foxie, he’s just about ready to fall to his knees. nobody calls him fox, so to hear you say it isn’t just intimate and special, but it’s also so sexy. you say it so many ways, but when you want him, he’s never liked the sound of it more. 

his biggest motivation is your neediness. it seems that when you get going, you never want to stop. you want him to keep kissing, keep touching, keep licking, whatever it is you want more, and when you finish you want to start all over again because you get drunk on him- and that could keep fox going until he dies. he wants to give you everything you want, even if you never return the favor. he likes being yours to use. 

n: no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

fox does not like to degrade you, which might be odd for a guy who’s so controlling and protective, but it’s not in his nature. he loves you. he cherishes you. he couldn’t tell you you’re dirty, or you’re a slut, or any of the terms that might get other people off, because he doesn’t believe them. he thinks you’re perfect, an angel, so good, and he only wants to remind you of those. he wants you to feel loved. 

he also won’t hurt you. certain things he’ll do, like he’ll choke you or pin your wrists down, but he won’t be overly rough and he won’t leave bruises or make it hurt. you don’t fight back, so he doesn’t need to be anything other than assertive.

o: oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

he prefers giving 100%. he likes it when you give him head because he likes seeing your pretty eyes look up at him, but he cums too fast to enjoy you doing it- plus, he can’t hear your noises when your mouth is full. he’d much rather just fuck you if he’s going to receive any pleasure. and god, is he good at it. 

p: pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

he’s slow until he gets inside you. typically he likes to take his time on you, but when he starts fucking you, it starts to feel so good and you sound so pretty that he loses a little control and starts being rough. that part usually takes the shortest amount of time but it feels fantastic because he goes fast. 

q: quickie (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

if you two are going to have a quickie, it’s going to be because you’re extremely horny in a place where he can’t take his time, and he simply can’t resist relieving you. but he really likes to be alone with you and go slow, draw it out as long as he can, and take good care of you. he wants sex to be special, he doesn’t want you to ever feel like it’s just a means to an end. sex is about love for him, not just a way to get his fix.

r: risk (are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

fox is willing to try anything, but you both are a bit vanilla, in that sense. you only need him to feel good, and he doesn’t want to restrain you from being able to move and moan and touch him. most of the experimenting is verbal- he likes to push how far he can tease, and how much he can say to get you there. the trend seems to be that the dirtier he talks, the more pleasure you feel, and he wants to max you out. 

s: stamina (how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

he’s gotten better at lasting, but he can’t draw it out too long. he has a hard time stopping himself. but he can go a few rounds without getting tired or spending it all because of how eager he is to keep touching you, which is nice. that’s why he spends his time on you, because you can last longer, and he doesn’t need much. 

t: toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

fox doesn’t have any toys. he is more than okay with you having them because if he’s not around, he can’t expect you to wait for him if you really need a release, and sometimes your hands aren’t enough. if he’s away on a case, sometimes he’ll call at night and talk you through it over the phone, so he at least has a little part in it. but he likes to be the one and only thing you can get it from when he’s with you, and so do you. 

u: unfair (how much they like to tease)

oh, he loves to tease. he loves to talk and talk and talk, so much that sometimes you have to ask him to shut up and go faster. he wants to see you completely flustered from just his words, and honestly, he can get you halfway there on conversation alone. he knows just what to say, and how to say it, and it can be torturous, but you love it. and physically he teases, too, because he favors stringing you out. it can feel unfair at times, but you like it too much to care.

v: volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make)

he has two sides. most of the time, he’s quiet, low, gruff; he grunts, he moans, sometimes growls if he’s really feeling possessive. but when he’s close, it turns into the most adorable whining. right in your ear, too. he pants and stammers, and easily gets overwhelmed. it’s not too high-pitched, but it’s needy and uncontrollable, and it sounds so, so pretty. 

w: wild card (random headcanon) 

fox never kisses and tells. he doesn’t have many friends, but if anybody tries to inquire into his sex life, he won’t say a word. he wants to keep it all to himself, and he refuses to let anyone know a thing about you or how you act when you’re intimate with him. he respects your privacy and he doesn’t want anyone else thinking about you in that way. he also knows he has something special with you- sex with you is really emotional and involved for him, and he doesn’t want to just air out his love to other people. 

x: x-ray (let’s see what’s going on in those pants)  

(oh myyy, am i blushing.) a bit thick, and give or take maybe six, six and a half inches hard- no, give. he’s big. it’s veiny, especially when he’s overstimulated. and it’s curved up a bit at the tip- which is a pretty shade of pink, by the way. cute, just like him.

y: yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

anytime, any place. he always wants you. he can keep it under control of course- he gets through every day just fine. but he’s always thinking about you, and even when it’s innocent, he yearns to be with you and make you feel good. his dick loves you almost as much as his heart does. 

z: zzz (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

for a guy who can’t sleep, fox gets pretty tired after, but he can stay up way longer than you can. usually, you need some aftercare, and you fall asleep shortly after, and he likes to stay awake to watch you sleep because your blush lasts and your skin is still hot. he loves to admire you for a while when you’re not watching. he also gets hungry after, so he usually stays up to eat something, and then he’ll crawl back into bed and pull your sleepy body in close. 

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡

this actually put me through hell to write because i want him so bad it’s driving me insane. hope you enjoyed, you little freaks. gonna go think about that period kink now. 

[lo1k-diamonds]

A woman's best friend 💜 Part 2

PAIRING: Taehyung x (f)reader

SUMMARY: After falling into temptation once, you and Taehyung tried to navigate the aftermath as best as possible. It turns out none of you can handle it, so your friendship is bound to end one way or another.

WORD COUNT: 7,127 

GENRE: f2l, smut (uni AU setting)

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: mutual pining, angst, dirty talk, body worship, nipple play, oral (m receiving), fingering, protected sex

A.N. I know part 1 was bittersweet, and I am a sucker for happy endings, so here is part 2 with a shiny new ending for this couple 😚 I think it has the right vibe for Valentine's Day, enjoy! (Thank you to @eerieedits again for the awesome banner 💜)

Masterlist | Scroll my stories on Tumblr | Schedule and WIPs | AO3 | Wattpad

The rhythmic thud thud on the window made you pull the curtain and look out the window. It was storming outside, and the night lights glistened as cars passed in the roads below and people enjoyed their Saturday night. 

Not you, though. Once, you had two types of Saturdays: the ones you’d go out with all your friends and the ones you’d stay home hanging out with Taehyung. Lately, you had neither, and it was all your fault.

You still remembered a night like this one. Turning away from the window, you let your gaze wander your living room. Back then, Physical: 100 kept playing on the TV screen for a long time, serving as background noise as you stayed in Taehyung’s arms. You lost track of time, then, staying awake and worrying about what that night would change.

You never discussed it further with Taehyung. He had fallen asleep, breathing gently with his arms around you, and you stayed perfectly still, aware of every ticking second. The conflict inside your chest was paralyzing — you didn’t want that night to end, but you also feared it continuing. The more you touched or interacted with him intimately, the harder everything would get. 

Those thoughts kept you awake, staring at the ceiling. So you recalled when the TV timed out and switched off, prompting you to go to the bathroom and come back only to find Taehyung exactly where you left him, naked with a blanket partially covering him as he slept. You didn’t regret slipping back into his embrace; you’d never get another chance. He wouldn’t know you had decided to return to his arms or how much you needed his warmth to calm down and fall asleep.

When you woke up, you found out a summer storm had broken out. It rained so much, then, but the same thud thud from the windows was unable to draw you away from his arms. All you could do was linger in his warmth for one second longer while you worried. Dreading and fearing how you’d ever look at him and not remember. How you’d brush each other and fake not having butterflies in your stomach. What if you saw him with someone else? How were you supposed to be his wing-woman again?

Of course, Taehyung had reacted the way you expected him to when he woke up. He chuckled at the pouring rain outside, happy that he had his leather jacket with him, and smiled dazzlingly when he saw you in a robe with your morning hair.

Then, before he left, he reassured you again, “Don’t worry about it.”

But you were yourself, and you had been right to worry. The problem wasn’t that you had slept together but that it had changed something inside your heart. Those feelings you once thought buried refused to vanish, the hope you once thought dead was alive and kicking, and to make things worse, you couldn’t forget.

Taehyung invited you for an ice cream, and you remembered what his eating you out felt like. He told you about this movie he wanted to see, and you knew what his baritone voice teasing you would sound like in the dark. He was excited about the new classes he was taking, even more so because you were there, too, and you shuddered at the memory of him kissing you as he came deep inside you, holding you so close you felt like a treasure. He promised to take you home when your group of friends decided to check out a new club, and you dreaded the whole night, both because he could choose to hook up with someone and because you wished that person could be you. Finally, he invited you to work on a group assignment together, and as you listened to him passionately go on about the topic, you wondered if you’d ever be able to reel your feelings back in.

You screwed yourself up over that one single weak moment. That yes had turned your life upside down, and while Taehyung kept his promise of being your best friend, you couldn’t.

So you did the only logical thing — you started avoiding him. It was inevitable — if his proximity made it impossible for you to get over him, then the only natural solution was not to have him close.

You weren’t sure he noticed, but you knew he was understanding. He never mentioned the situation and treated you like nothing happened. He never pushed to know why you started saying no to night outs or confronted you about being tired every time he invited you over. You were never able to invite him to come over and be alone again in that very same living room, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out why, so it didn’t surprise you never asked about it.

In the end, it hurt you more than anyone. You were frustrated with yourself; you asked for this, it was all your doing. But you were helpless. Sometimes, you could act normal, and your interactions were playful and warm, as always. He poked you under the table? You knew there was a joke coming. Or he’d lean into your ear to whisper something, and your heart wouldn’t somersault and expect a caress. However, other times, you couldn’t help but withdraw your hand or avoid sitting next to him and letting such interactions bloom. Because you’d read into them or remember or wish for things to be different, and you hated it. Hated it all.

You were about to turn on the TV and search for something that could take your mind off him when the doorbell rang. You wondered if the neighbor had put the wrong door number on the food delivery again, but Taehyung was outside your door like an apparition. 

Despite his black leather jacket, he looked drenched and dejected. He raised his dark eyes to yours. “Hi, can I come in?”

You didn’t hesitate to reach out to pull him inside. “Of course, let me grab a towel!”

You let him enter your place first and close the door behind him, then rushed to your bathroom to get a towel. Only when you came back to the living room did you realize it was odd that he was there.

“Weren’t you supposed to go out with the others tonight?” you asked as you threw the towel over his head to dry his dripping hair. “How come you’re here?”

He grabbed your hands and pulled the towel away so he could face you. “I can’t take this anymore. We need to talk.”

“Alright! Who wants to drink what?”

Taehyung barely heard Jimin's question as your group of friends sat around on the couches and loveseats. That was their corner; they always sat there, and as he waited for everyone to settle down, his heart dropped. The loveseat you always shared with him was empty. You weren’t there again.

Taehyung asked about you quietly, trying to conceal the way his heart was squeezing inside his chest.

“She’s not coming,” Jimin answered, then shrugged. “Something about being tired.”

“She’s always tired lately!” Hoseok huffed as he sat next to Jungkook, who hummed.

“Maybe she’s sick?”

“When’s the last time we’ve seen her?” Jin wondered, and Namjoon sat on a beige pouf.

“Couple of weeks? Anyway, why are you asking?”

“You would know better than us,” Yoongi croaked with a quirk of his eyebrow. “Don’t you have classes with her?”

“Aren’t you best friends?”

Taehyung nodded absentmindedly as they resumed choosing their drinks, and the weight inside his chest didn’t relent. Yes, he saw you; he should know about you. He should be able to understand, but he wasn’t. He couldn’t. You were slipping between his fingers, and he just couldn’t sit idly by and watch it happen anymore.

“I gotta go.”

He rushed outside without hearing their protests, and the pouring rain greeted him. It wasn’t enough to dissuade him; he raised his leather jacket’s lapel to cover his neck and made his way in between the people trying to reach the nightbars and get cover from the rain. You lived fifteen minutes away; you were just within reach.

It was all his fault. He should have thought twice about crossing the line with you, even when you said yes. Not just for you, but for his own sake. That night was branded in his memory, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t move on from it. And he tried. He tried doing everything right. He tried pretending nothing happened, that he didn’t want anything more than friendship with you, that it wasn’t a big deal. He tried looking at you as purely as a friend would, and he tried looking at other people the way he knew he shouldn’t look at you. Yet, even in the few moments he was able to entertain the thought of someone else or get engrossed in a conversation with them, it was always the same. The moment you crossed his mind, he was reminded why it wouldn’t work. He’d be talking with someone clearly interested in him and instantly thinking about your kiss, your smile, your gaze as you kneeled before him, your teases. The person in front of him would touch his thigh, hinting at something more, and he’d instantly raise a wall. You were on his mind, and even if being friends was the only thing you wanted, it didn’t mean his heart or body wanted anyone else.

He craved you. That night wasn't just a dream or a type of heaven he wished had become permanent. It was a risk in every sense. He knew he wasn't just fucking you. He didn’t want just to leave you a slobbering mess, he wanted more. He wanted to look into your eyes and see it — the moment you'd realize how good you felt together. How perfect it was and could be. He wanted to look into your eyes and see the moment you'd fall in love with him.

And that was his biggest mistake. That one moment of pure greed — it wouldn't happen, he knew that. Even if you were curious about him, that wouldn't just happen. Best case scenario, you'd scratch the itch, be it for sex or curiosity, and move on. Worst case scenario, you'd regret it and never look at him the same way again.

He suspected the latter was happening despite his efforts. The whole night he had you in his arms, he struggled to enjoy it after the way you revealed your worries. His heart burned with a discomfort he couldn’t voice while he prayed that he wouldn’t lose you. That, no matter what happened, you'd stay in his life.

But he should have known. It was worse than a drunk one-night stand with someone from your friend group. You were best friends; of course, it was hard for you.

You started pulling away, and he instantly noticed. At first, it was the little things. You'd withdraw your hand from his or flinch ever so slightly when he leaned in closer. You didn’t invite him to spend time or the night in your apartment, just the two of you, and he understood why. The worst was that you withdrew from your typical antics and cut your smiles short. You’d be sitting next to him and not even look his way, and it withered his heart. Of course, when you did turn to him, he always had a smile for you. He wanted to be a comforting presence no matter how fleeting your interactions were, but still, it only got worse. 

It hurt when you avoided sitting next to him or dancing, and then you started disappearing. You didn't show up to all classes anymore, and you didn't hang out with your group of friends, at least not when he showed up. Then he'd text you to ask about it and notice that even through messages, things had changed. You texted less and less, and the distance was breaking his heart. 

He kept running through the stormy weather with his hair dripping down his forehead. He didn't care; nothing mattered at this point. It had been two weeks since he last saw you, and there were only three or four texts in between. What he feared was happening, it was undeniable, but he wouldn't go down without a fight. He needed to see you and try one last time. It would be his dying breath, but at least he'd try. For once, he'd bare his soul and hope you'd do the same and forgive him. He just didn't want to lose you. He loved you so much.

He crossed a delivery boy at your apartment building entrance and ran upstairs to consume some of that nervous energy. Then, he rang the doorbell, and you opened the door for him, and his heart convulsed. God, he missed you so desperately.

“Hi, can I come in?” he mumbled, lost in the sight of you in your robe that brought him such bittersweet memories. 

You pulled him inside without hesitating. “Of course, let me grab a towel!”

You closed the door behind him, and he took his shoes off so he wouldn’t make a puddle in your living room. Yet that was the last thought he had before where he was hit. That couch, that place. His heart ached again as he turned to you, and you threw a towel over his head.

“Weren’t you supposed to go out with the others tonight?” you asked as you patted the towel to dry his dripping hair. “How come you’re here?”

He grabbed your hands and pulled the towel away to face you. “I can’t take this anymore. We need to talk.”

He saw the second you tensed as the towel fell to the floor, but you didn't withdraw your hands, and he was not holding back.

“You said you didn't want things to change, and I'm trying. I'm trying so hard to hold onto you,” he said, pain lacing his voice. “But I can't if you keep pushing me away like this.”

He paused, looking at your startled and tense expression, waiting for you to say something, but you were frozen.

He lowered his hands but kept holding onto yours. “I'm sorry if I ever hurt you. If I pushed you to do something that made you uncomfortable with me. It's my fault, I got carried away with my own selfish feelings,” he confessed, tearing up with a sad smile. “I promise I won't ever touch you again or bring up anything inappropriate, so please.” He let go of your hands gently. “Please forgive me. Please say we can still do something about this because I can't— I don't want to lose you.”

His voice wobbled, and you frowned, shaking your head. 

“I’m the one who is sorry,” you managed to say despite the tears pushing to get out. “Because it’s my fault. My selfish feelings, not yours. I'm the one who said yes and then couldn’t handle it. I'm so sorry, I— I should have told you, but I— I’m so sorry—”

You stammered, rubbing your face in embarrassment, distraught. You needed to tell him; you couldn’t let him think he did something wrong. But what if he thought staying friends would worsen things and decided to end everything?

“Told me what?” he asked, anxiously stepping closer to you. “Please, tell me,” he requested softly, but you kept hiding your face. “Please.”

Your hands started shaking over your face, and he suddenly realized you were holding back your cry as you trembled.

His heart sank. “Did I hurt you? Fuck, I’m so sorry!”

You uncovered your face to look at him. “No, you didn't.”

He held his breath as he observed you cleaning your cheeks. “But you’re crying,” he pointed out, desolation tearing his chest. “I'm so sorry! I promise I won’t ever do it again!”

You wiped your cheek annoyedly and reached to grab his jacket. “Stop!”

“I never wanted to hurt you, I—”

“Stop it!”

“I won't ever touch you again, I just—”

“Stop saying that!”

He stayed put, no matter how angrily you held onto his jacket. “I’ll never forgive myself if—”

“STOP!” You had to shout and pull him to you so firmly that he stumbled in your direction. Desperation was taking hold of you as sobs shook you, but his disheartened eyes kept you focused. “You never hurt me, I don't want you to think that for a second!”

“But… you've distanced yourself from me.”

“I know,” you croaked, looking down at his lips curved sadly.

“You said you didn't want things to change.”

“I know…”

“You said you didn't want it to ruin our friendship.”

“I did…”

Taehyung waited for you to say something or look into his eyes again, but you didn't.

So he asked, “Did it?”

“Yes.” Your eyes finally rose from his lips, and you had to be truthful. “I can't be your friend anymore.”

Taehyung paled and stared at you, speechless, livid. His heart broke; his worst nightmare was—

“I look at you, and friendship doesn't begin to cover how I feel.”

“What?” He blinked, befuddled as his thought process stumbled on itself.

“I should have told you, but I never thought you’d— I knew it would be risky, but—” You licked your lips, having a hard time ordering your thoughts. “At that moment, when you asked, I just— Of course, I said yes, I— I’ve wanted you for so long, I— I should have known it would mess me up— I begged you not to let things change because I knew— I knew they would change for me, and—”

You were struggling to breathe and say everything you wanted, and he supported your arms as you held onto his jacket.

“You wanted me?” he asked softly, and you nodded. “What changed? Please… Please tell me.”

His gentle expression and supporting hands gave you the courage you needed. “Everything— everything changed,” you confessed. “I can’t look at you the same way. I can’t look at you without wanting to touch you or kiss you. I’m sorry, I—”

He cradled your cheeks suddenly and crashed his mouth to yours, and you whimpered ever so softly. You gripped him closer by his leather jacket and kissed him back, not hesitating for a second to meet his tongue with yours. You wanted to lick that taste back into your life, that warmth, that comfort you missed terribly.

You thought he felt the same way when he halted your kiss to a simple press of your mouths as though he needed to feel it. When he pulled away, his eyes were red and glistening, eying you with such emotion your heart trembled.

“You wanted to kiss me?” he asked, still cradling your cheeks.

“Yes.”

“To touch me?”

You nodded anxiously. “Yes.”

“That's what changed?”

“No.” You looked at his lips again before facing him. “I've always wanted to, but we were friends. Now, I just can't pretend anymore.”

“You mean… you don't see me as a friend?”

You shook your head still in his grasp.

“So you don't regret it?”

You could see him relaxing, his features soothing as you two talked, so you shook your head again. “I don't. Do you?”

“No,” he replied instantly, smiling. “I did when I thought you pulled away from me because I hurt you, but—”

“You didn't,” you assured again, pulling him closer. “Do you… Could you see us as more than friends?”

“Fuck yes,” he rasped, brushing your cheeks gently. “I want to be yours. I’ve wanted it for so long. There’s nothing else I want.”

“Really?”

Your eyes watered as you looked into his. Was this a dream?

He smirked. “Really. You better start believing it because if you let me into your bed again, I’m not leaving. Like ever.”

You chuckled and bit your lip. “If I invite you, I expect you to never leave. We cross the line and get rid of it. We say things that make us feel like more than just friends because we are more than—”

He crashed his lips into yours again, letting go of your jaw to pull you closer by the waist until your chests were glued. His leather jacket was still dripping from the rain, but you didn't care. If he kept kissing you like that, he wouldn't have it on for much longer anyway.

“Say it, then,” he mumbled between kisses. “You know the drill.”

You chuckled. “Do I?”

He hummed, chasing your lips.

“I only know the one to give you the green light to fuck me into a slobbering mess—”

His groan as he dragged his lips to your neck made you clench around nothing, and you bit your lip.

“But what if I don't want just to fuck?”

He pulled away to face you, with blown pupils and wet lips, held in check.

“What if I want to be yours?”

“I'll make you mine,” he promised, grabbing your hair on the back of your head so you'd face his dark eyes. “I'll make you forget ever not being mine.”

“In one of those five ways you thought of?”

Your whisper was not simply a tease, and you suspected he knew it when he groaned and leaned in to peck your lips.

“I've since thought of many more.”

He licked and nibbled your lips, and you had to close your eyes with the shudders.

“You thought about fucking me?”

“I haven't thought of fucking anyone else ever since I met you.”

Your cheeks burned as you snapped your eyes open. “What?”

“You heard me,” he murmured against your chin.

“But— I helped you— with that other guy—”

He shrugged. “Nothing happened. We got outside the bar and went our separate ways.”

“You never told me that!”

“Well, what could I say?” he said, speaking close enough to you that you could feel his breath on your lips. “That I wasn't really interested and went home to fuck my fist while I thought of you? I didn't think you'd appreciate that—”

It was your turn to grab his hair and pull him down to kiss you again, consuming just a little bit more. Your tongue darted out to lick, tease, and take, and he fought you with a low groan. Whatever you wanted, he wanted it too if it meant you were going to kiss him like that.

“You have— no idea— how much— that drives me crazy,” you managed to say between kisses. “The thought of you— thinking of me— fuck—”

He seemed to get an idea because his hands lowered to your ass to squeeze it, catching you when you jumped into his arms. You never stopped kissing, even as he walked with you in his hands, until your back hit a wall.

You didn't care how or where he fucked you as long as he did. Of course, your mouth was busy as you opened it more so he could deepen the kiss, so you couldn’t tell him. But you could show him in the way your legs wrapped around his waist, keeping him close. Your heavy breathing matched his as your hands explored and tried touching him everywhere you could, but his jacket was in the way. He likely felt the same, seeing the way he fought to open your robe and tried getting it out of the way so he could kiss down your neck into the cleavage of your pajama top.

You chuckled; the two of you were making things harder by trying to undress each other at the same time. His eyes crinkled as he matched your smile and gave you the lead. His lips trailed your jaw as you pulled your robe open and shrugged it back to give him access to your neck and collarbone. Your skin instantly drew his lips, allowing you to push his jacket off him while he was happily distracted. 

You tried to get rid of his sweater, too, but couldn't. As soon as his jacket hit the floor, he wrapped his arms around you again and buried his face between your tits, squeezing you to him so firmly you couldn’t breathe. However, you could feel the way he was rutting into you and it drew a quiet moan as you fisted his hair. 

Goosebumps ran over you as he licked your cleavage, dragging his tongue over every inch of skin he could reach, and you needed more. You released one hand to reach in between your bodies with the single goal of touching him, and it wasn't easy. His ruts were unpredictable, not leaving any space between you, but you needed to grasp his desire for you, feel it in the palm of your hand.

When he raised his lips to kiss you again, it gave you the opportunity to unbutton his jeans. His tongue pushed through your lips, deepening his kiss so much you moaned quietly, muffled. Yet it just complemented and amplified your urge to grab him, and you did.

Your hand finally reached inside his boxers to grab his dick and pull it out, and he groaned. Your hand clamped shut around him, fisting him unapologetically, and he had to break your lips apart to moan softly. You adored the way he held his breath, letting his forehead fall to yours as he closed his eyes, taking in everything you gave him. His sweet expression sparked your desire even further, so you kept pumping him, delighted with the precum dripping around your fingers and his knitted eyebrows.

You'd go to the last consequences of this with pleasure, but he suddenly grabbed your hand away and pressed himself to you. You were squished between the wall and his body, but you had zero reservations about it, especially when he kissed you like that. His mouth crushed yours as his hips thrust into you, jumpstarting a carnal hunger that consumed you. His hand dug under your pajama top, scratching your skin up to squeeze your tits, and you moaned, bucking your hips to match his. His tongue was so deep in your mouth that you were drooling, both desperate to moan and feel the tip of his cock rubbing against your unfortunately still-covered cunt. You were fucking desperate to have him, and you'd gladly cum right here and now if he filled you up.

“Tae,” you tried, barely able to part your lips from his. “I need you inside me, please.”

He moved in a flash, checking his pants were open enough to give him space before letting you stand to pull your pants down your legs.

You gripped his shoulders for support, then sighed when he leaned in to nip just under your ear. His fingers skimmed your wet folds before pushing two fingers in roughly, unleashing your moans as he touched all the right spots inside you.

You were so ready to blow you could feel the enthralling pleasure tingling in your nerve ends.

But somehow, you had a discerning thought. “Condom… Tae… Grab a condom.”

He stopped suckling on the skin of your neck to eye you with a lustful gaze.

“I'm not on the pill,” you whispered, brushing his luscious hair off his eyes. He looked absolutely dazzling, and you wanted him to fuck you till you couldn’t even stand, but you did not want accidents. Not yet, anyway.

He blinked, his hand pulling out of you to feel his pockets. “I… I don't have one. The last time… I never got another one.”

You chuckled and he pouted, and you could read his thoughts.

“Not like I planned for this to—”

You kissed him, then pushed him back to have space to move away from his hold. “I know, I'll get one.” He tried to catch you, but you jumped over your clothes gracefully, only turning back to tell him, “Bed. In my bed.’

You got to your roommate's room to search for condoms. Hopefully, she had some, even though she spent more time at her boyfriend’s than there.

It wasn't hard to find them on her nightstand, and you took the whole box with you. It was not like she'd need them tonight.

You wondered how Taehyung would greet you but still staggered at your bedroom's entrance. He was lying on his back, arms spread over your bed sheets as he stared at the ceiling. Having heard you come in, he raised his head and promptly sat up. 

Even though his pants were unbuttoned and his clothes drenched, nothing would have given away what you were doing just minutes before. Except perhaps his dark glistening eyes running up and down your figure before they set back on yours.

You were naked from the waist down, yet suddenly, it wasn't enough. His eyes were curious and electrifying, and you wanted to keep going. Your heart was thumping loudly inside your chest, the thrill of that moment making you tremble, but you waited.

He raised his hand for you to grab, and your heart finally settled as you took it. Your fingers fit in his perfectly, and as he hugged you to him, resting his head on your chest, you finally stopped trembling. On the contrary, you caressed his head calmly as he held you. It felt like reaching home at long last. It was the first time you were touching each other like that, with such vulnerability and with all the cards on the table, and yet it was the best type of feeling.

He pulled away to look up at you, and you caressed his face gently, letting that ease echo between the two of you. It was real — his hands on your waist, his sparkling eyes, and the adoration in them. You knew then that it was as validating and fulfilling for him as it was for you that you were finally in each other's arms.

“Did you find one?” he asked hoarsely, and you nodded. “Do you want to stop?”

“Hell no.”

You frowned, and he wetted his lips. “I don't want to move too fast and mess this up. I care so much about you.”

You brushed the back of your fingers down his cheeks sweetly. “Me too. But we're not moving too fast. Right? We've been friends forever, and we want to be more than that.”

He nodded, his eyelashes fluttering as he enjoyed your touch. “Please.”

“Then let's,” you whispered, leaning in to nuzzle him. “I don't want to wait.”

“Then we don't.”

He was ready to get up and touch you, but you simply smiled and pecked him before getting on your knees. You could see how his lips parted expectingly as his eyes transfixed on you, making you giddy. You gave him an excited smile and reached for the hem of his pants, and he helped you get them off. Then you bit your lip as you reached and grabbed his erection again.

His head dropped back at the softness of your touch as he mumbled your name, and you nodded. “I want to suck you off.”

You never thought you'd get another chance to grab that juicy cock, let alone delight yourself in its smoothness and taste. You would have admitted to Taehyung how much you thought and fantasized about a moment like that one, but the words evaporated from your mouth. Your only thought was his taste, and as soon as a precum drop glistened over his slit, you dove in.

You sighed as he groaned above your head, instantly grabbing your hair out of the way as you sucked. You didn't even realize how intensely you were doing it, bobbing your head so he'd touch the back of your throat, because you were out. His cock pushing inside your mouth made you anticipate how he'd feel inside your tight walls, and his moans made your mind soar high, elated. Taehyung, only the one you had wanted and had feelings for forever, was right there, losing his mind with you. Because of you. Because he wasn't indifferent to you. He actually wanted you just the same, had feelings for you, thought of you, longed for you—

“Fuck— Wait—”

His voice was strangled, but you weren't listening. You here so dazed, clenching around nothing and high on your desire, that you only realized the reason for his warning too late.

His warm taste invaded your mouth, and you moaned, gushing between your legs at the thought of him losing control. Yet, in a split second, his hand wrapped over yours around the base of his cock so tightly it was almost painful for you.

Only then did you stop blowing him and pulled away, confused, and looked between him and his delicious cock. You had tasted cum for sure, and yet despite the way his dick twitched in front of you, there was no more coming out. He was groaning harshly, almost frustratingly, but you knew by his expression that pleasure was assaulting his nerve ends.

When he finally stopped groaning, his dark eyes opened. “What do you think you're doing?”

His voice was quiet, almost annoyed, and you just blinked up at him.

“You didn't tell me to stop.”

“I told you to wait.”

You simply shrugged. “You did say something like that, I just… I told you I wanted to suck you off.”

“And I told you I'd make you mine.”

“You still can,” you argued as he grabbed your hands to pull you up and get you on the bed.

“Not if I came fully.”

You shrugged and let him pull your legs around him as you leaned back on the sheets. “We have all night.”

“We have forever,” he underlined, making you chuckle as he got on top of you in between your legs. “Starting right now.”

You could only be amused and giddy with his assertiveness about making you his, and he smiled too. He brushed his hands along your naked legs, then leaned in to kiss your neck as his fingers got tantalizingly close. You tensed under him, gripping his shoulders. You waited impatiently, expecting to feel his touch any second and wondering how he'd react when he found out how ready you were. 

“Holy shit,” he almost whined when his fingers slid along your slit. You moaned back, shuddering with his touch. You knew you were slippery and dripping, and now he did too. If the pool between your legs wasn't obvious, the sounds surely gave you away. “You're so ready for me.”

You moaned your agreement as you gripped the sheets. His fingers weren't eager like before; this time, he patiently dragged his digits along your folds, pressing gentle circles on your clit now and then. Your whole body trembled every time he did, letting his kisses and nibbles on your neck build you up so intensely that you didn't know what to do anymore. You were hot and trembling, and moaning just wasn't enough.

You gripped his hair in search of something, and his answer was to crash his lips to yours. The kiss turned consuming instantly, and you moaned into his mouth, completely overwhelmed. His fingers entered you and hooked, pressing into your sensitive flesh with lewd sounds, and you couldn’t hold on anymore. You tried whimpering his name in between kisses, and if anything, he firmly kept going with his fingers, both inside and out, over your clit. It drove you to pull his hair harshly back, parting your mouths with strings of saliva between you, yet you didn't notice. Your orgasm burst through you, and you lost sight of yourself, moaning desperately in his hold, gripping his hair so tightly, you surely pulled it painfully.

You noticed this when you came to, blinking at him sluggishly. Your fingers instantly relented their hold, yet absolutely nothing in his expression indicated any pain. On the contrary, he was enticed. He was looking at you as though you had bewitched him.

He raised his hand to brush the hair out of your face, careful not to use the fingers still covered in your slick. “You're so beautiful.”

You would have blushed if you weren't already hot and bothered. Instead, you met his lips with yours, kissing him more calmly than he was able to. You melted a bit more with how he matched your gentleness, careful not to push or impose. He was adorable, and you were not done yet.

“Too hot,” you whined when the kisses picked up steam. “Get rid of it,” you asked, pulling on his sweater.

He firmly pressed his lips to yours before rising to his knees and pulling the sweater off. Then, he saw you struggling with your robe and helped you. Your pajama top met the same fate as his clothes on the floor, and you giggled because before it could even happen, he was already grabbing your tits and licking a nipple wildly. 

Moans interrupted your laughter as he licked and pinched, slurping your hardened nipples inside his mouth one at a time. You squirmed under him, trying to both grab him close and escape the onslaught. The more you writhed, the more you felt his hard dick pressed to your thigh, leaking against it as he rutted.

It drove you fucking wild because no matter how much you enjoyed having him eat your chest, you craved him inside you so much more right now. “Make me yours,” you begged, locking your glistening eyes with his when he looked up from the drooling mess he was making on your chest. “Don’t wanna wait, I need you.”

You noticed the red spots his lips were leaving behind on your chest, but you didn’t care because, in an instant, he was kissing you again. He stole your breath, diving in while you relished his hands tracing your curves until they caught your legs, spreading them so he could press his dripping cock and grind against your soaked cunt.

You groaned, unable to control your bucking hips to match him. The quiet moans out of his mouth burned you from the inside out, setting you on a path that could only end in you both consuming that passion sizzling between you.

But he pulled away from your lips, hiding in your neck and panting heavily as you moaned. 

“Tell me where the condom is, or I’ll fuck you without it.”

You whimpered, feeling the way he slid across your folds length and rubbed your clit deliciously. “I’m so close.”

He uttered your name in a scold, the warning lingering as you kept bucking your hips. You opened your eyes to face him and bit your lip, so fucking close you could see it. You were tempted to throw all caution out the window and have him raw. To raise your hips so he’d get inside you right as you came around his thick cock, creaming him from tip to base. The very thought was risky; his current expression was already pure lust, holding on by a single thread. If you pushed him, he’d fuck you raw and right, just like you craved.

But you let your hips fall to the mattress and relented. “Right pocket of my robe.”

He felt the robe still under you and ended up raising his hips away from you before you’d both lose it. It made you sigh and feel beneath you as well, finally finding the crumpled part of the robe that had the pocket you both needed.

He tore the wrapper open with his teeth and got the condom on as fast as he could. When his eyes raised back to yours, and he grabbed your legs, pushing them to your sides, you clenched. His expression was dark and unreserved, as though the brakes had come off, and it made you shudder.

Yet when he aligned his dick with your entrance and sank in, he was nothing but respectful and careful, almost solemn. The way your tight embrace left him adrift was evident in the way his eyebrows knitted and his jaw hardened, but he didn’t ram inside you or let that feeling overcome his control. He waited for you to adjust to his size, but you kept clenching around him, prompting him to look at you. 

You had felt him before, but it was just as earth-shattering as the first time. You simply shook your head as you sighed. “You feel so good— Don’t hold back!”

He almost growled as he let his hips snap to yours, and you let your head fall back. Your hips matched his, increasing the intensity of each thrust, and it was wild. You got lost in the sounds of skin slapping and moans and the heat overwhelming you from the inside out. He adjusted your legs to bend further, perfecting his angle to one that simply unleashed your voice with every slam and let him guide you to the finish line. 

He knew you were close by the way your pussy sucked him in, tightening like a vice that barely let him move away. It made him tremble from head to toe as he groaned in your neck. “Just like last time— I've dreamed of this for so long,” he confessed, trying to kiss you, even as you both heaved and tried keeping that hallucinated rhythm.

“Me too,” you whimpered, searching for his eyes in the midst of it all. His hand wrapped around your hair, keeping your eyes on his as though he needed to look at you, too, and you squirmed with watering eyes. This time, you didn’t need to hide. This time, you could lose yourself because he was yours. “Please.” 

You mumbled his name between moans as you begged, and he listened. He was lost in the pleasure, but he was attentive to you, noticing all the little cues he was only once privy to. You moved with him as your eyes rolled back closed and your nails dug into his shoulders, and he felt the shattering orgasm start around his cock before he heard your moans.

Your orgasm started his out of nowhere, but as he grunted and trembled in your arms, he had only exhilaration radiating from every pore. He spilled his cum as deeply as your quivering heat allowed it but quickly and eagerly opened his eyes to look at you. You were still trembling and moaning breathily with your lip between your teeth, but then you looked at him, and he knew.

He’d never catch the moment you fell in love with him, because the truth was, you already had.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Hii you dont have to do this but can i request a part 3 to ethan x camgirl where they start talking and meet up. Thanks🫶

The ending kind of sucks, but it's already 1.8k and I'm tired of writing this fic so I'm posting anyway

Warnings: 18+, smut, p + v, virgin!Ethan

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

What were the odds that you and Ethan both lived in New York? You didn’t attend the same college — he was at Blackmore and you at NYU —, but it was still a damn good coincidence. It was also almost unbelievable that you never bumped into each other when you visited friends at Blackmore.  

After weeks of messaging back and forth — a few late night sexting sessions —, you decided to finally meet in person. It was nerve-wracking and exciting at the same time.  You couldn’t wait to see those sweet dimples and bambi eyes…and kiss the hell out of him. 

When Ethan got to the party, he felt dumb for asking you to meet him there because these frat houses were always jam-packed with people, but you were already on your way. It was too late to change the plans.

He stood in the room, deep brown eyes glancing around at the sea of faces, trying to spot someone who matched the beautiful girl he saw through his screen. What he hadn’t thought of was that looking for someone at a part could be like searching for a needle in a haystack. 

‘’Ethan!’’ Chad called out, walking up to his roommate with a red rub in his left hand. ‘’We’re missing a player for beer-pong, you in?’’ 

Chad must be truly desperate to ask him to be his beer-pong partner because he knew how terrible he was at the game. 

‘’Sorry, but I have to decline,’’ Ethan said. ‘’I’m waiting for someone.’’ 

A teasing smirk curled at Chad’s mouth. ‘’Someone, uh? You mean a girl.’’

Ethan rolled his eyes, fighting the blush on his face. ‘’Shut up.’’ 

The night went on, the frat party roaring with energy, and he finally spotted you in the midst of the crowd. You had on more clothes than he was used to seeing on you, but you still looked gorgeous — you always did. 

He made his way over to you, a shy smile drawing on his face as he got closer. 

You pulled Ethan into a greeting hug, feeling like you were past formal greetings. He saw you stuff your fingers in your cunt as you moaned his name, shaking his hand would feel strange. 

‘’You smell good,’’ Ethan said, your sweet perfume enveloping him, a nice change from the strong weed odor that filled the living area. 

You chuckled. ‘’Thanks.’’ You pulled back and raised your eyes. ‘’I didn’t expect you to be this tall,’’ you remarked in turn, surprised by Ethan’s height. 

Being around you felt surreal to Ethan. He had to pinch himself a few times to make sure he wasn’t in one of his wet dreams. But you were really there, sitting beside him on the couch, your knee brushing his leg every time you laughed. 

‘’You okay?’’ you asked, noticing Ethan shifting in his seat. 

‘’All is good,’’ he lied, his face forcing a smile. 

‘’You sure? We can go and get some air if you want.’’ 

‘’I don’t need air, it’s just— I don’t want you to think I wanted us to meet so I could use you for sex, but my dick has been rock hard since that hug and it’s getting really uncomfortable.’’

You looked down to see the tent in his pants and laughed softly. ‘’Why didn’t you say so?’’

‘’Because it’s embarrassing...’’ he mumbled, wishing the couch would swallow him.

Leaning closer, you said quietly. ‘’Would it be less embarrassing if I said I’ve been dying to leave and have you to myself?’’ 

No other words were spoken. Ethan just stood and you grabbed his arm as he guided you through the bodies of partygoers. He kept his head down and smiled at the ground, the feeling of your hand curling around his bicep sending butterflies in his stomach. If a simple touch ignited this kind of reaction from him, what would happen when your hands will be touching lower on his body?

The walk to Ethan’s dorm felt like a thousand miles away. The chilly night air nipped at your bare legs as you strolled through the dimly lit campus pathways, holding on to his arm the whole way. You couldn't wait to be inside and finally kiss him.

You barely made it inside the building lobby that you had pulled Ethan down by the front of his polo shirt and captured his lips with your own. He gasped against your mouth in surprise, not expecting that kiss, but quickly recovered and kissed back until he was out of breath. 

Grabbing his hand again, you hurriedly took the stairs to the third floor — as instructed —, and watched with amusement Ethan unlocking and shutting the door with a clumsy eagerness. 

‘’Come here, pretty boy,’’ you said, pulling Ethan down and kissing him again, gentle but deep. 

You could kiss him all night and never get tired, but the elephant in the room was nudging at your thigh and you just had to give it some attention. Without disconnecting the kiss, your hand wandered south down Ethan’s body, pausing right over the lump in his jeans. He let out a strangled moan at the contact, and it made you smile into the kiss.

‘’Should we take care of that?’’ you asked, dragging your mouth to his jaw while you rubbed him over his jeans,  touching him where nobody's ever touched him before, where he'd only dreamed of you touching him. 

Ethan’s head tilted back and you only saw it as an opportunity to kiss a line down the side of the neck, adding to the new sensations. You kept on stroking him slow and long until he couldn’t take it anymore, pleading once again. 

He peeled off his jacket, leaving it in a lump on the floor while you did the same with your sweater, leaving you in your lacy bra. You had picked it meticulously, hoping Ethan would be the one to take it off you tonight. 

‘’Fuck, you're gorgeous,’’ he murmured to himself, watching you closely.

You pulled at his polo shirt, and when he raised his arms to discard it, you looked at him appreciatively. He was hiding so many good things underneath those preppy clothes. You ran your hands along his chest, the smooth muscles that spread across his stomach and his chest and his arms. 

‘’You’re not bad either,’’ you replied, triggering a light blush on his cheeks. 

The rest of your clothes came off in a disordered fashion, trying to get naked as fast as possible. Once the goal was reached and everything was on the floor on the chair, you glanced down and smirked, admiring what you had only ever seen through a screen. Big enough to make you feel full, and pink and leaking at the tip.

‘’Looks even better in person than on camera.’’ You wanted to kiss it, but instead wrapped your fist around his cock, slowly going in up and down motions. Moans and pleas fell from his plush lips, causing more pre-cum to leak from the tip. ‘’Please what, baby?’’ you asked, gently caressing the line of his happy trail with your other hand. ‘’Just tell me what you want.’’

‘’I want you.’’

You leaned in to kiss him again, and this time the kiss was hungry as you guided him back to what you assumed was his bed — the letterman jacket on the other bed gave it away. You moved back and brought Ethan down with you as you lied on the typical college boy dark blue sheets. Some curls were falling in his face, reminding you of the shy boy you met months ago during a private session. 

You tucked his hair behind his ear, smiling softly at him. ‘’How do you want me?’’ 

On top. 

Connecting your lips for a quick kiss, you then grabbed a condom — which he had bought for the occasion — and switched positions so you were straddling him. Pushing up on your knees, you gripped the base of his cock and lined him up with your entrance. You could tell that Ethan was nervous, his breathing pattern faster than a few minutes ago. 

‘’It's okay. I got you.’’

You pressed gently, the tip barely sliding in, making Ethan grab the sheets and throw his head back from the overwhelming rush of new sensations. Slowly, you sank down onto him, inch by inch until he was all the way inside of you, and sighed. He felt so much better than you imagined. 

Ethan’s grip on the sheets tightened as a long moan drew from his mouth. ‘’Fuck, that feels good,’’ he whispered, his eyes still shut, scared that if he open them and see you sitting on his cock he’ll burst.

Taking a small pause to adjust, you tilted his face down to yours and leaned down, capturing his lips with your own as your breasts pressed against his chest. His eyes snapped open, only to close again and release the sheets to run his hands everywhere he could reach on your body. 

Once it was comfortable enough, you started moving your hips the same way you often did in your videos. Except this time, it wasn’t a dildo. 

Ethan groaned, squeezing your thigh and moving his other hand to your chest as you moved on top of him. He cupped your breast, and then tentatively squeezed your nipple. It sent a bolt of need through your core, settling right between your legs.

‘’Do that again, baby,’’ you encouraged, and moved your hips again, a long languid movement. ‘’You can be rougher.’’ You gasped, pressing your fingers over his, pinching and twisting your nipple the way you liked. It hurt in the best way. 

You continued moving your hips as Ethan played with your body, his mouth soon replacing his hands on your nipple, causing more mewls to ripple through. 

It wasn't long until Ethan began getting sloppy and whiny, silently letting you know he was close. Virgin men didn't last long — you knew —, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t use your own hand to speed your orgasm instead of making Ethan feel bad for finishing fast. 

You rubbed at your clit until you started to feel that coil tightening in your belly, getting close to the edge and, by some miracle, successfully reached your high closely together, echoes of your pleasure mixing as you clenched around Ethan’s spurting cock and milked him. 

When you were finished, you rolled off him, falling back on the mattress. You should get up and go pee, but Ethan curled up next to you after disposing of the condom, wrapping an arm around your middle and you didn't want to get up yet. He pressed his face against your soft breasts, a beaming smile on his lips as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, holding him close. 

‘’I’m really happy I spent my dad’s money on that private session.’’

—

Scream taglist: @misfityanii @beautybyfire @iluvscream191 @mariposa555 @bella7866 @o638 @lulubelle14 @luvvtxinityy @frasersgf  @Eddiefrickenmunson @jasperr-the-friendly-ghost @ghostf4cee @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @wandaswigglywoos @xjennyx2 @jennasslut @thatonesblog  @mikaelsonsstuff @icarly23 @tcddszn  @bt.oliana  @skyesthebomb @a1mzcruml3y @red1culous @iluurmom @popeheywardssecretgf @michaelangdonsslut @byhrxb @kamthecoolest @kattybug @ravenstrueluv @landryslxys @die4niyahhh  @sl4sh3rfuck3r @radiant-whore  @Meadzy21 @luci1fer @nomorespahgetti  @bloodyhw  @depthsofdespairr  @bellysbeach @wilmalovegood @loupiotesworld  @wenvierismycomfort @t-candy  @s-al-em  @darylscvmdumpster  @tommysaxes  @adaydreamaway08 @johannelis2302nely @aqshua @lynbubble  @luiise  @planetkt  @vampyrgoff  @adrluvh @mymultiveres  @miqi-16 @not-liah  @lovenats01 @doestalker @lonelywitchv2 @lausley336  @arinexeisnotworking @halforangecuts @l3ndryz  @ilovelandry  @your-platonic-gay-lover  @Danniackerman  @angelxxrose  @lottiefromsam  @thecrowdedstreetin1944 @cinnamonbun222

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @marzipaanz  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart  @xyzstar  @graceberman3  @Heartsforneteyamsully  @aerangi  @hallecarey1  @bxbyyyjocelyn @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs @grxnde-dwt @lexasaurs634 @teeeree13 @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch

[seraphicloves]

𝑰𝒕'𝒔 𝒂 𝒃𝒊𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒆𝒙𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆

❀ summary: Hyunjin never expected falling in love to be so…peaceful. Like a feather blown in the breeze, slowly and gently settling to the ground. He expected it to be harsh, dramatic, and loud. He expected one day for a brick to plummet in his heart with a You're in love! written in big bold letters.

❀ warnings: long ass story, physical descriptors being used but no name, they could be ooc i am not a skz expert, mentions of other kpop bands & people i have no clue about, almost 5k words 💀

❀ notes: i took multiple months to write this and i might have to separate it into multiple parts bc it is annoyingly long. I dunno if its super good but I wrote it for my bestie who loves hyunjin 😁

Hyunjin never expected falling in love to be so…peaceful. Like a feather blown in the breeze, slowly and gently settling to the ground. He expected it to be harsh, dramatic, and loud. He expected one day for a brick to plummet in his heart with a You're in love! written in big bold letters.

But watching her, with her fluffy purple hair and glittering dark eyes, he couldn't help but picture falling in love like cozying up against a fireplace after a long day playing in the snow. Falling in love with her felt easy. It felt like something he'd known all his life without fully realizing.

It was unfortunate that they seemed to be in entirely different realms. She was an American streamer with funny jokes and a big smile. He was a Korean idol who could barely utter a word lest the public eye shun him. Sure, it had gotten better since JYP had passed his entertainment industry to his much more progressive daughter, but still.

His fingers idly curl around his pencil, light strokes against the thick pad of his sketchbook as he watches her most current stream. She was with her friends, having a simple talk with her fans. It reminded him of the lives he did for his own fans, although he was sure her videos were not as filtered.

“Oh my favorite music? I have really liked K-pop since I was in middle school.” she says, her lips curving into that grin that never failed to send butterflies to his stomach. Of course, this led comments to flood all of them asking about her favorites.

“My favorite when I was in high school was Stray Kids,” She explained, making Hyunjin’s heart lurch in his chest. He set his drawing supplies down, fully turning to look at her as if studying the pixels of the screen might help him understand the real her better.

He caught a glance at the comments, asking who her bias was (something he has shamefully been tempted to do) and sat silently hoping she'd answer the question.

The heavens must have been looking out for him because she said, her voice like a melody made by Apollo, “My bias is Hyunjin though I love them all.”

Was he dreaming? Should he get Felix to pinch him? He shook off his thoughts, trying to clear his mind to make sure he heard you right. You kept talking about how you liked Stray Kids as a teenager, how they helped you through difficult times. Hyunjin struggled to understand the way his heart beat in his chest, the swell of pride in his stomach.

He took a glance at his unfinished sketch, yet another futile attempt at capturing the beauty of you. He could never feel like he got it quite right. He needed it to be perfect. One crafted by the gods must be worshiped, not tolerated.

Hyunjin continued to watch your stream until it ended, although his mind was still focused on that moment. It repeated in his head like a broken record, one that he was grateful had broken. If he was to be stuck in one moment eternally, he would choose that one easily.

As though he had been summoned, Felix bounced into Hyunjin's room. He wore a big smile, ready to poke and prod Hyunjin as if they were blood related brothers. However, the older boy was on a mission, and it could not be interrupted.

“Have you heard of this streamer..?” Hyunjin asked, her name slipping past his lips easily. Felix, as chronically online as he is, nodded that he had. Settling the nerves in his stomach, Hyunjin knew he ought to explain.

And so he did. Multiple times, actually, because Felix decided to involve the entirety of the band. Hyunjin couldn't even be that upset. They were a close-knit family. And he knew they would help him.

….

He was fairly certain that everybody around him was fully and clinically insane but he couldn't bring himself to care in the slightest bit. Somehow, he had managed to get an entire event hosted by JYP, which invited all sorts of streamers….namely her.

Although Hyunjin couldn't guarantee she would show up, he was certainly hoping against all odds. So was the rest of the Stray Kids.

“Hyunjin’s got a crush~” Bangchan teased, wrapping his arm around Hyunjin's neck and bringing him closer so he could ruffle his hair. Hyunjin laughed while he tried to wriggle out of the older boy's hold.

Finally, he got out of his hold, just as Hwa-Young entered. She was dressed as formally as ever, a crisp suit and perfectly styled hair.

“Please treat all our guests with respect and understand that the reason they are here is to advertise JYP Entertainment and the music festival at the end of the weekend.” She explained, letting her eyes travel across the people here. All bands under her company had been gathered to discuss this, making for quite the large display.

Hyunjin listened carefully, knowing that part of the reason was so she would come to South Korea. All expenses paid trip in exchange for her to advertise and spread publicity for JYP. He hoped she would spend time with Stray Kids the most.

After she had finished discussing basic ground rules for having a bunch of American social media influencers all around for two entire weeks, she gave a smile and said they would be arriving later that afternoon. It would be a lot, but it would be good for getting international fans for some of the lesser known bands.

All Hyunjin could do was pour all his emotions into the dance rehearsal while he waited to meet her for the first time. Each step helped make him stop overthinking, terribly anxious thoughts plaguing his head.

He just kept moving, making his blood flow through his body. He focused on each step of the dance until it was etched into his bones. Eventually, he had to succumb to the natural progression of exhaustion all humans must deal with. It was conveniently timed because the influencers were starting to arrive.

He wiped off some of his sweat with his shirt and took a swig of his water. Then he walked with the rest of the band with the hopes he didn't look gross.

…..

His eyes immediately darted to her as the crowd emerged, her arm wrapped around her friends’. She was even more breathtaking in person, the red of her shirt complimenting her skin. She wore black cargo pants with a metal chain wrapped around her belt loops, with red combat boots, and a red off the shoulder, slightly oversized top. Hyunjin tried to suppress his smile, happy that she was even fashionable just like him.

Bangchan hurried over to them before he had a chance, after he was the leader and the most sociable of the group. Without thinking much of it, Hyunjin followed closely behind with the rest of the Stray Kids.

“Hi!” Bangchan said, greeting both women with a hug. They accepted it with warmth, both being enveloped by Chan. Hyunjin watched from his spot, trying to stop him from running away screaming. She was rather intimidating!

I really need to go say hi. I don't want to seem unfriendly. He frowned a bit, trying to get his feet to move. With a small burst of relief, he felt himself move closer.

He was standing in front of her, in all her gorgeous glory. She was shorter than him, her head tilting up so she could see his face. Hyunjin wanted to paint her and capture her beauty forever. He wanted to study every feature and examine every inch of her. He wanted to worship her.

Hyunjin’s face flushed when she waved at him, suddenly making him realize where his train of thoughts had been going. He couldn't possibly expect to memorize her body if she didn't even know what he's like beyond a stage presence. (He wondered if they had ever met before, if she had gone to a concert long ago.)

“Hi.” He finally said, pushing the words off of his tongue and into the world. It sounded awkward and shy, like he sometimes felt when placed in front of a camera. Hyunjin wished he could be the painter instead of the muse sometimes.

She smiled brightly, her cheeks curving to allow such a beautiful expression. He was sure he had died and gone to heaven. Why else would an angel look at him so beautifully? He tried to ignore the blood rushing in his ears and hoped that it wasn't obvious he was warming up feverishly. (Would she mind if he kissed her? Just a small one, just to get a taste.)

“It's nice to meet you, Hyunjin.” She said, still looking up at him, “I've been a big fan for years.”

Maybe this was all a very big dream. Maybe the Sandman had decided to give Hyunjin something to enjoy, and he gave him…her. If this was a dream, Hyunjin didn't want to wake up. If the only way he could be in the presence of this woman was through his fantasies, so be it.

Oh, I still have to reply.

Bangchan glanced at Hyunjin expectantly, probably wondering why he was forgetting to speak. His brain was so full of thoughts that he couldn't help the way he got sidetracked.

“Well I am a big fan of you too.” He said with a smile, “I like your streams.” Was that too honest? Would she feel uncomfortable by his confession? He'll repent if she needs him to wash his hands with holy water and pray his awkwardness goes away.

She looked a bit shocked, her warm brown eyes widening ever so slightly. But then she warmed up again, like chocolate melting on his tongue. She was comforting without even realizing it.

“Who would've thought we'd be fans of each other?” she said with a shrug and a laugh before eventually moving on to greet the rest of the people. He wished he could make her stay, say something so stunning she can't help but feel transfixed by him.

Instead, he watched her walk away, trying to ignore the way his heart deflated. It made sense that she needed to walk away and do what she needed to do. It was understandable.

…..

The first day of advertisement was pretty boring. Hyunjin doesn't like to complain much, but he barely got the chance to hang out with her, and he was stuck going over plans. There were a lot of conference meetings, with stale cookies and uncomfortable seating. (He wondered if that was what it's like to work an office job - he's suddenly glad to be an idol.)

“Can we go home soon?” Han whined, already flopping on top of a displeased I.N. Hyunjin couldn't help but understand Han's frustration. They had been holed up for hours doing nothing.

Hwa-Young nodded in sympathy and said, “One more thing to discuss, then you can return to your dorms.”

Hyunjin perked up a bit at this, happy that today was almost over. He had been hoping to spend more time with his love, but she had been placed with the also influencers on the other side of the conference room. His eyes flickered to her as if he were a moth drawn to a flame.

She was listening intently to Hwa-Young, her arms crossed across her chest. She looked more relaxed, maybe even a bit sleepy, based on the way her eyes started to flutter shut. She was so pretty, and Hyunjin would be happy to die if it meant he could look at her forever.

“We have hotels for everybody. Listen carefully to your name so you can retrieve your housing information.” Hwa-Young explained before she started to talk about everybody. Soon, all the streamers left, all of them except for her and her friend.

Hwa-Young blinked in surprise, reading over her list once more before she flushed. Hyunjin watched with a bit of confusion, wondering what happened.

“I am terribly sorry, miss.” Hwa-Young said, hurrying over to whisper in the woman's ear. They talked quietly before Hwa-Young turned to face the bands.

“Will anybody volunteer to house these lovely ladies?” Hwa-Young announced, making Hyunjin’s heart fail. Maybe he was going into cardiac arrest because what the fuck?

Before Hyunjin could even begin to process Changbin stood up, with Bangchan giving an encouraging smile. Oh no, oh no no no.

“Hyunjin can take them in, as long as they are comfortable with it.” Changbin said, giving a charming smile to the foreigners. He was annoyingly friendly, like a gym bro teddy bear or something.

It didn't take long to convince her and her friend, Changbin was very good at charming people. She smiled and said, “Oh if he offers I would enjoy that very much. But I don't want to intrude.”

Hyunjin forced himself to speak, opening his mouth and saying, “It's not intruding. You can stay with me and Changbin.”

He didn't want to do this. He needed to escape her even for a moment. What if his heart gives out from racing so much? Hyunjin did not want her to stay with him, to leave him without any way to stay calm. But he would be kind (mostly because Changbin forced his hand.)

“Thank you, that's very nice.” Her friend also added, still standing beside her. Hyunjin noticed his love’s friend seemed to be rather awkward, looking anywhere but at the group of people before them. He supposed he could understand, but he hoped Changbin might get along with her. Hyunjin would be housing his favorite person in the whole wide world.

Maybe that's a bit aggressive to say though, she may bias Hyunjin but that doesn't mean she likes him all that much. So Hyunjin kept his thoughts locked up tight, not wanting a single one to slip through the cracks.

“Well, now that it's all settled we can head home.” Hwa-Young said with a smile and a clap of her hands. She stood up along with the other idols, all heading to their various dorms.

“Well, I guess we'll be off.” Bangchan said with a sly grin, having the other members follow behind him like ducklings following their mother. It was just Hyunjin and her, well and her friend and Changbin. But they were basically alone!

“Do you want to head to the dorm now?” Hyunjin finally asked, hoping his expression was calm and collected. Basically, it's the opposite of how he was feeling.

She nodded and allowed Changbin to lead the way with her friend following close behind. She walked side by side with Hyunjin, her hand brushing against his.

Surely he would explode, his heart would inhale until it was bursting with excitement. Hyunjin was totally going to die over this weekend. But maybe it wouldn't be that bad.

…..

He did not get a single wink of sleep that night. All he could think about was the fact she was sleeping outside his room, on the couch. She was so close to him, how could he possibly be expected to sleep?

Hyunjin got dressed the next morning, not being sure what to expect. What sort of videos might they film today? Who would he be filming them with?

With a yawn, he exited his room and noticed that she was not there. She must have gone already.

Changbin was waking up around the same time, stretching his muscular arms. His black hair was a bit messy and curled, since it was without the products he puts his hair in.

“Are we heading to the studio today?” Hyunjin asked the older man, tilting his head slightly. Maybe they would be showing the influencers new dances or something. Or maybe they would be writing songs and collaborating. There were many things they might do.

“Yeah, and we're late so c'mon.” Changbin said, walking towards the door and wrapping his arm around Hyunjin's neck. He dragged the younger boy with him, despite Hyunjin's attempts at getting free.

Hyunjin groaned, but allowed Changbin to ruffle his hair and do all the things he usually does. He is like a strange older brother, with the way he likes to tease and is awfully goofy. But Hyunjin likes it.

They walked quickly to the studio, remembering that the boys often left clothes there. So they would be able to change once they were there.

Once they arrived, Hyunjin felt incredibly underdressed compared to her. She was wearing a lavender chunky sweater with a black mini skirt and black tights. She was so elegant and pretty, he couldn't help but feel awkward still dressed in his lounge wear.

She smiled upon seeing Hyunjin, making his heart swell with a strange sort of fuzzy feeling he was unused to. Sure, he always felt warm and safe with the other members of Stray Kids. But this was a sort of feeling that made him want to wrap it around himself like a blanket. It was so lovely.

“What are we doing today?” He asked, momentarily forgetting he should probably apologize for being late or maybe he should get ready instead of staring at her with a look of amazement. He was certain his eyes had glazed over and he had his lips parted, staring as if she had just descended from heaven.

“Oh we are going to be doing some Tik Tok dances together then later we are going to do a kitchen stream,” She explained, her voice confident and self assured. Hyunjin wasn't completely inept when it comes to social media but this still wasn't his speciality. She was in her realm and bringing him in, despite his confusion.

“Oh,” He nodded, only half understanding what she meant. But he didn't want to look dumb in front of her- he wanted her to be impressed. A stream about kitchens? How strange, but if it worked for her Hyunjin would do it without complaint.

“While you get changed, I'll set up the camera.” She said with her lips curved up with a delightful grin. How was he expected to function when she looked at him like that? Like she saw him as more than an idol. Perhaps he was as deluded as his fans, but he wondered if there was a chance she liked him as he liked her.

Hyunjin nodded and moved away, wanting to get dressed as quickly as possible so he could spend time with her. She was calmer in real life, or maybe that's because she needs to be professional. (He wants to uncover each facet of her personality, to peel away the layers until he is greeted with her, the whole and true of her soul.)

…..

“I regret doing dances with professional dancers,” She grumbled, taking a swig of water. Hyunjin watched her from behind, trying his best to not let his eyes stay on her for too long.

“You're doing great,” he said, with an attempt at an encouraging smile. She definitely wasn't a dancer like he was, but she was trying her best. And he was sure fans would find her attempts at doing the Beabadoobee dance to be amusing.

“Well, it's okay since we are going to do the cooking video now.” She explained, turning to look at Hyunjin. Her brown eyes were shimmering delightfully, reminding him of dark glittering jewels. He could stare at her for hours and never get bored, memorizing every line of her face would be the best of tasks.

“What are we going to make?” Hyunjin asked, following her to the kitchen. The other members of Stray Kids were working with other streamers and influencers, doing a variety of activities from singing to doing the hear me out trend.

“Empanadas.” She hummed in reply, pulling Hyunjin’s thoughts back to her. He was like a moth to a flame, helplessly attracted to her. He was weak against her attacks, her ability to reel him in constantly impressive.

She pulled out ingredients while Hyunjin turned on the camera, flickering it onto a stream. A steady flow of viewers came in, making the count get higher and higher. He wished his English was better so he could better read the constant stream of comments in the corner of the screen.

“Hi everybody! Welcome or welcome back depending on if you're new here.” she said, glancing at Hyunjin, “Today's stream is extra special because I have a guest with me! Hwang Hyunjin from the band Stray Kids!”

The chat spammed with excitement, using a lot of smiling emojis and capital letters. He smiled at the camera, trying not to get suddenly shy. He was used to being in the public eye- just not used to it with his crush right next to him.

They got started, with her giving Hyunjin instructions and working carefully on the empanadas. He did as he was told, trying to focus on making food while also appearing entertaining. (How did she do this on a daily basis? At least Hyunjin has his other members to lean on whenever he gets tired. She works alone and works constantly.)

“Guys, stop.” She scolded suddenly, causing him to turn around so he can read what's happening in the chat. He read a few of the comments, a flush rising in his cheeks. Were.they teasing her for having a crush on him? He was so bewildered he didn't realize he had been staring blankly at the screen until she made a noise.

She said to Hyunjin, “Okay, I will admit I had a crush on you back when I was in highschool. Hopefully that will appease chat enough for them to stop bothering us.”

She sent a playfully stern look at the camera, unaware of the way Hyunjin felt like he was going to explode. She had a crush on him when she was in highschool. Which meant she used to have feelings for him. Holy shit.

The rest of the day went by extraordinarily quickly, but perhaps that's just how it felt since he was still distracted by the revelation. Did she still have feelings for him? How deep of a crush did she have back then? Had she talked about it before and how had he not noticed if she had? He watched her videos almost religiously, he couldn't possibly have missed a video of her talking about him. He would have remembered surely!

He couldn't get to sleep for the second night in a row. He was busy thinking about what he learned, how she used to have a crush on him. Maybe he was just overthinking, maybe it didn't matter that she had a crush on him in highschool.

But he couldn't let it go no matter how hard he tried. There was a strange feeling in the smallest part of his heart that told him she still felt the same.

…..

“Hyunjin,” Han said suddenly, snapping his fingers to get his friend's attention. Hyunjin turned around, flustered that he was very likely caught staring at her. It didn't help that she was working with TWICE so close by. He could probably feel the warmth of her skin, smell her perfume. Hyunjin was trying his very best to not get distracted.

“What do you need?” Hyunjin asked, stretching his arms. They were doing some sort of challenge where they needed to run and sing at the same time. It sounded complicated but it could be helpful for when they would go on for a concert.

“You should tell her how you feel.” Han replied, looking up with a rather serious look. He had his arms crossed in front of his chest, tapping his foot against the wooden floors. Hyunjin’s eyes widened, his lips parting a bit with shock.

Was Han serious? Did he actually expect me to bare my soul to the girl of my dreams so casually?

“Why? She probably doesn't like me back.” Hyunjin dismissed with a wave of his hand, looking away as though he couldn't fathom admitting this while making eye contact. Feelings are so troublesome it seems.

Han laughed and put his hand on his friend's shoulder, still staring so intently at him. “You can't be serious, Jinnie. She has fallen for you, almost as hard as you have for her.”

He turned away to look at her. She was busy with Momo, helping the girl do some sort of silly TikTok. However, what Hyunjin noticed when he also turned was the fact she was looking at them.

Her mouth broke into a smile and she paused enough to wave at Hyunjin, acting so casual despite the fact she was setting his heart on fire. Did she really feel the same way? Could she possibly want Hyunjin the way he wants her?

Hyunjin looked back at Han, and grumbled in a low tone, “How would I confess to her anyway?”

Han grinned at that, clapping his hands together. The shorter boy said, “Do what feels right to you, Hyunjin. What's a good way to confess?”

Then he walked away, returning to the influencer they were working with currently. Hyunjin stood in place, feeling almost as if there was cement in his bones keeping him still.

How would he confess? Should he write a letter to her? Maybe he should march over there and demand they go on a date! Okay..maybe that's a bad idea. But still, how should he confess?

She will only be around for the concert tomorrow and then she'll be returning to America. Suddenly he faltered, his heart racing with excitement.

What if…? Hyunjin could barely contain his sudden happiness, wanting to already put his plan into action.

…..

“This was a bad idea.” Hyunjin said, attempting to wrangle himself out of Changbin's strong grip so he could avoid getting on stage. It was a futile attempt, with the older man wrapping his arms around Hyunjin's shoulders.

“Nope, you're doing this.” Changbin said, shoving Hyunjin even closer to the stage. There was no getting out of this- he was going to confess to her.

“Fine, fine.” Hyunjin relented, pushing Changbin away with a half hearted glare. Then he shook his hands, trying to be rid of the nerves rattling around his chest.

He walks onto stage, ignoring the way his heart was pounding against his ribs. Looking up, he immediately found her. She was as beautiful as always, staring up at him with awe. He needed to do this - he needed to confess properly.

He said her name like one might a god, worshipping the shape of the vowels on his tongue. “I love you, so very much. I wish to be with you forever, and so I sing this for you.”

Then Hyunjin did what he does best: sing. He chose to sing Ice Cream, knowing it was one of her favorite songs after he had done his research. He put his soul into the lyrics, every ounce of his love into the silky tones of his voice.

…..

After the concert, he was greeted by her. She was a vision, something he wished to see in his mind's eye every time he goes to sleep. He might dream of her forever, use her as solace from the grim realities of the world. If he had her, he might be able to survive anything.

“You love me?” She asked, reaching out to grab his hands. Sparks shot through his fingertips, warm rushing through him wherever she touched.

Hyunjin nodded and said, “Yes, I do. I have loved you for a long time.”

She took a moment to process his words, squeezing his hands. She kept touching him, even the slightest brush of skin sending shockwaves directly to his heart. She was so lovely and she was holding his hands, was she trying to give him a heart attack?

“I love you too, Hyunjin.” She whispered, looking up at him. Her brown eyes glistened with an intense emotion, and something he is finally realizing is love. She stared up at him with a sense of adoration he had only dreamed of previously.

He leaned down, feeling her breath warning his cheek. He wanted to stay like this forever, holding her hands and keeping his face close to hers. With a small dose of courage, potentially regrettable or not, he leaned in close enough to kiss her.

He brushed his lips over hers, savoring the taste of her chapstick. He removed his hands from hers to hold her hips, pulling her flush against him.

She kissed him back, her hands pressing into his chest. She was so perfect, and she was his now, his to love and his to care for.

He pulled away and leaned his forehead against hers, letting his eyes flutter shut. This was everything he had ever wanted and more. If this wasn't heaven, he wasn't sure what was.

“Will you give me the honor of being your boyfriend?” He asked softly, still holding her close. If he could put her inside his heart, he could.

“As long as you'll let me be your girlfriend.” She replied, curling her fingers into his hair. Hyunjin could barely think, barely do anything except get her closer and closer. He wanted her, and now he had her. He was the luckiest man in the world.

Hyunjin didn't expect to ever fall in love the way he did. It was a gentle and slow descent, like ice cream melting on a summer's day. He was melting for her, his cold heart thawing to recieve her love. Having her in his arms was like coming home. He might nog have expected to fall in love like this, but he was incapable of regretting it. It was lovely, just like her.

lori © 2024. please don't copy, modify, or do anything weird with my writing! i like reblogs and comments but please be kind as this was my writing.

[kairiscorner]

Do you have any other miles 42 headcanons?

hiii !! i have a few romantic ones, like how he'd act like around his crush >:> here they are, i hope you like them!

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

miles g. morales falling for you headcanons !!

he'd definitely overthink about how he feels about you, because despite coming off as a rizz master, boy has no clue on what to do with these butterflies in his stomach and the warmth he feels when you're close by or when you give him a smile, LIKEEEE he knows how to pull, he just doesn't know what to do when he gets pulled

he'd do the same as his counterpart in 1610 and find himself drawing, sketching, painting you through his graffiti--you left a lasting impression on him that made him want to see you a whole lot, and without even realizing it, he's expressing that need to want to see you, be around you through putting his image of you out through his art.

he pays attention to the little things you do :> he does seem apathetic and stoic at times, but that doesn't mean he doesn't care about you. he's observant, and when you have all his attention, you bet he's gonna notice all the little things you do and just admire you and how cute you are.

he is definitely a nerd. i think if you caught him with a keychain or pin of his favorite game or show and just complimented him about it, or talked to him about it, he would fall harder for you.

he talks to his uncle a lot about you, and it was through his uncle aaron that he realized he was falling in love when he walked miles through those feelings he couldn't really name or place his finger on.

he feels more confident about himself through the little compliments you give him, even though you might mean them in a friendly way. it really brightens his day when you tell him his shoes look nice, that his braids look beautiful, that he looks a little nicer than he did before--little do you know he tweaks himself up a little bit subconsciously due to your compliments, takes better care of himself, pays more attention to how he looks for you.

HE PRACTICES RIZZING YOU UP WHEN HE LOOKS AT HIMSELF IN THE MIRRORRRRR

+ rio once walked in on him doing that and kept teasing him about it

++ she told uncle aaron and they did not shut up about it, with uncle aaron telling him to just play cool as miles is flustered, embarrassed, sweaty in the palms, and shaky in the knees about it HEHE

he tells himself to always 'be cool' around you and when he feels confident about himself facing you, he loses all the confidence he had prior to you catching up with him to talk, and becomes a melting, stuttering mess when you get too close or your gaze becomes a little too piercing.

+ when you smile at him, he FALLS APARTTTTT

tags !! @k4tsu3 @fiannee @luvstarrstruck @toneystank-3000 @ii01vq @maxoloqy @popeheywardssecretgf @lovefrominaya @solecitoszn @q2ie @zalayni @anikaluv @conitagray

[cryptidghostgirl]

Rapture (Alastor x Ex-Partner!Gn!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: ANGST.

Word Count: 3,000

Previous Part: Ritornello

Next Part: COMING SOON

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Rhapsody Master List

A/N I got a request a while ago to continue this so here is the next part!! Sorry for taking so long. When you guys request things,, it lets me get to them quicker which I appreciate (esp when its about my own projects) :)

It had been about a month since Alastor had joined the hotel staff and things were going smoothly. Well, as smoothly as they could go when trying to rehabilitate sinners but, some good things had occurred. The best of them had been the addition of their newest guest: Sir Pentious.

Y/n had been suspicious of him at first, as had Vaggie and Angel Dust. They had heard of him before, fought with him in the past according to Pentious himself. Y/n knew the demon had a desire in him, a want to become what they despised most. It became quickly evident that when he had joined the hotel, Pentious had not only given up his war machines but that dream of his as well.

Settling in to the new pattern had been... difficult. It was such a strange thing for Y/n to be around Alastor. There had been a time, a long time, when they had known his every affect, the essence of his being. That time was gone. He was not the many they had known just as they were not the demon he had known. However, there was something that lingered between them still -- the memory. It filled the silent spaces, consumed the air. It was large and complicated.

The first week or so after his arrival, Y/n had been a wreck. They didn't cry, they didn't yearn for him, but they still suffered. It was so hard to escape the old patterns. Each demon found themselves nearly doing things, saying things, experiencing things that belonged in the lives they had once led, not the ones they were involved in now.

Y/n had stopped missing Alastor when their relationship with Charlie had solidified. Suddenly, despite the fact that he was right before their very eyes, inhabiting the same places as they did for the first time in three decades, it was almost like they were loosing him all over again.

Slowly, the need to stop themselves faded. There was no longer the necessity of catching the words in their throats, of pinning their hands to their sides, of burying questions or requests in the recesses of their minds because the need, or habit perhaps is the better word, began to fade. New routines came into being. The world kept turning.

Still, there was the odd awkward silence. Still, Y/n felt a tingle in their spine, butterflies in their stomach, when they ended up alone together. Alastor just smiled through it all, like he always had.

The only real step Alastor had taken that showed any emotion at all towards his former lover was that he blocked any contact Y/n had with Husk and Nifty. Y/n was intent on interrogating them, seeing what sort of a master he was, learning their stories and working to free them from their contracts. Alastor must have sensed this, must have guessed, drawing on his own experience with them, that they would want to do something like that. Every time Y/n managed to come even close to a moment alone with one of them or the appropriate environment for a more personal, private conversation, he appeared and shut it down.

If Y/n were younger, they would have thought it was a game. Perhaps some part of them still saw the competition in it all but, if they did, Alastor couldn't tell. They had changed -- god had they changed -- but, so had he. Change was what time did to a person. He couldn't blame them.

Alastor spent a lot of time watching Y/n. He wasn't sure why, for what he was searching. It was a compulsion. He searched for the bits and pieces he remembered of them, tried to fill the gaps between who they were, and the person standing before him now.

There had been some things he was able to observe. Firstly, Y/n's diet had changed. While before they had eaten whatever was available, now they seemed only ever to eat raw meet. Alastor had absolutely no idea why and the only plausible reason he could come up with was simply that they liked it. Second: where Y/n used to spend hours composing, messing around with various instruments and musical genres, they were rarely found with even their lute in their hand nowadays. Alastor knew that a busier schedule provided by Charlie and the hotel could be at fault but, that answer was unsatisfying. Y/n loved music more than anything, more even, Alastor was almost certain, than they had loved him.

There were a handful of other small details, minor things about the way they held themselves, the musicality of their voice as they spoke. Then there was the biggest change, the cloud looming over his head. This was the way Charlie had changed them.

The days of Y/n running off, rushing away mid conversation, were gone. They regulated their emotions with much greater ease now, Alastor had even caught them doing breathing exercises a few times. There was a certain sense of freedom he hadn't seen them hold within themselves in a long time, not since they had first gotten together. While on the one hand he was happy for them, grateful beyond belief that Charlie had managed to help them regain that sense of themselves, it hurt on the other. It hurt so much because he had tried and this was the evidence that the failure had been his, not theirs. He had tried, he had given them his all, and it hadn't been enough but somehow, in some way, Charlie had been.

Charlie had been enough for Y/n. Charlie had... had... Alastor hadn't.

Something had happened. Alastor didn't know what because it had happened without him. If he had had the chance to talk to Y/n about the interim, the time they had spent apart, he would have. The thing was, Y/n didn't seem too keen on the idea of a private chat.

They were never rude to him. No, they always kept a friendly lilt to their voice, said hello to him when their paths crossed. Alastor could tell they weren't avoiding him either. He knew that if they were, he would never see them at all and he saw them all the time so it wasn't that. Still, every chance he had, every spare moment they shared just the two of them, Y/n found a way to quickly and kindly exit the conversation.

Alastor could force them to engage with him, he knew that, but that had never been their style. There was no precedence for it. He lied to himself, saying it was just that he knew how Y/n would react if he tried to capture them, to force them into any situation they didn't want to be in. He needed to be at the hotel and Y/n had the power to remove him from his position. He told himself that, again and again, while the real reason lurked under the surface.

The truth of the matter was: Alastor did not want to force them. He never wanted to force Y/n to do anything, whether physically or through mental manipulation. Even the consideration of such action felt like a betrayal of them, of himself in a way, of what they had.

What had they even had? Alastor had been in love, loved Y/n still in an odd and nostalgic sense but, he was also angry with them. The newfound regret of having failed them mingled with the decades old infestation of anger, of feeling like they had failed him. At the end of the day, they were the one who had left first. Alastor might have said the words, pulled the trigger, but they were the one that left. They had withdrawn from him long before that conversation on the hill. Y/n committed the murder, allowing the corpse to dry out in the sun, to be picked apart by birds and wild animals. Alastor had just buried the body. It had been the right thing to do, it had been necessary.

Slowly, the silences between them lost most of their tension, became a bit more comfortable. Slowly, they each learned to inhabit their new roles in one another's lives. There had been something and, yes, that something was gone, but there was a new something growing in its place. Alastor had thought the ground was barren. He was grateful anything grew at all.

They were gathered in the lobby, Y/n running a workshop on how to properly wrap presents. Alastor, like the rest of the hotel staff, had been invited to participate but, he had opted to watch. It was a skill he already had, one he had no use for. There was no need to learn what he already knew, but watching Angel, Husk, Pentious, and Nifty struggle was entertaining.

"Okay, well..." Y/n put a finger to their chin, gazing at the box Nifty was holding up to them with pride.

It was perfectly wrapped in white paper with a big black bow on top. Beside the bow, Nifty had drawn a detailed picture of a cemetery for all the bugs she had killed in the hotel thus far.

"You did a great job." Y/n finally settled, patting Nifty on the shoulder, "Well done."

Nifty squealed in glee, turning to present the box to Angel for him to examen. Angel had managed to get tangled up in his project and, realizing this, Nifty quickly dropped her own in order to help him. Witnessing this, Y/n smiled.

Alastor felt the place where his heart would have skipped a beat if things weren't so complicated. He felt the lack of an emotional reaction almost more deeply than if he had had one.

Just as Y/n moved to help Nifty untangle Angel, Charlie bolted into the room.

"Y/n! Y/n Y/n Y/n! I figured it out! I finally figured it out!"

Y/n turned to Charlie as they came to a stop before them, breathing heavily. Their brow was furrowed, their head tilted slightly to the side in confusion.

"Figured what out, Sunshine?"

"Your curse?" Charlie replied as if Y/n should have known.

Y/n tensed. Charlie didn't notice, but Alastor did. He knew them too well not to. It also did not escape him how actively they were avoiding looking at him.

"Y/n, if you get redeemed, wont it go away? Curses can't exist in Heaven, can they?"

His mind was absolutely reeling. What curse? In all the years he had known them, Y/n had never once mentioned a curse. The others gathered seemed equally as surprised and at a loss as he felt.

"I..."

At last Y/n looked at Alastor. Though only a few seconds had passed since Charlie's revelation, it had felt like an eternity. Charlie followed the path of their gaze, the smile falling from her face immedeatly.

"Fuck, wait, I... fuck. I'm so sorry, I-"

Y/n took a deep breath, turning back to Charlie with a smile fixed firmly upon their face.

"It's alright."

"No!" Charlie insisted, "I swear, I di-"

"No, Charlie, it's alright. I told you, I stopped looking for a cure years ago."

"But you cou-"

"I don't want a cure." Y/n shook their head, taking Charlies hands in theirs, "I want to stay here, at the hotel. With you."

Almost as soon as Y/n had spoken, Charlie's eyes filled with tears.

"I... I..." she stuttered for a moment before throwing herself into Y/n's chest, "Thank you!"

Y/n patted Charlie's back with a comfort that was unexpected to Alastor's eyes. The look on their face as they pulled Charlie from them, wiping the girls tears, was a sort of kindness Alastor had never seen.

A curse? What curse?

A million questions flooded through his mind as he continued to watch the pair.

"I have some business to deal with, are you okay with me leaving?"

Charlie sniffed, nodding her head slightly.

"Do you want to help finish the workshop? We're wrapping presents."

"You're wrapping p-pr-presents? That's so sweet!"

Charlie's tears started anew and Y/n chuckled, ruffling her hair comfortingly.

"You sure you're okay if I go?"

"Just go." Angel advised, getting up and walking over to Charlie, "we can handle this."

Y/n shot him a grateful smile before turning on their heel and walking up to Alastor. He looked down at them, his expression unreadable.

"I'm ready to talk." they stated.

Alastor nodded.

"Let's go."

----

When the shadows released them from their grasp, Y/n half expected them to be on the hill, their old haunt. It would have been fitting for Alastor to do something like that and he had every right to be so cruel in their mind. Instead, he had brought Y/n in to their studio. The anger radiated off him, the confusion, and still he had thought to offer them such a kindness.

Y/n, their back to Alastor, balled their hands into fists. They could feel the panic rising in their chest, the fear. They took a few deep breaths before turning to face him.

"Do you want to ask me anything? Or do you just want me to talk."

Alastor crossed his arms over his chest, eyebrows raised as he tapped one foot impatiently on the hardwood floor.

"Stupid question." Y/n nodded, "Right."

They took one final steadying, breath and then, they began to speak.

"So, curse. Um... fuck."

It wasn't that they hadn't thought about what they would say before. They had. They had played this moment out in their mind in a hundred different ways a hundred different times. Nothing had ever seemed right, felt right, gone right. Even if it had, they had no idea of where to begin now. The memory of all that practice had been ushered out long ago by the anxiety.

"Some overlords got mad at me and cursed me?" they said at last, their words coming out as more of a question than a definitive truth, "I..."

"Is this why you always left? Is this..." Alastor ran a hand through his hair, looking away, "is this what your secret was? The curse?"

Y/n nodded and Alastor sighed.

"I know you must be furious." Y/n began, trying to keep their voice steady, "Angry that I was so foolish as to allow-"

"That's not why I am angry, Y/n." Alastor cut in, "That's not why..." he shook his head, "I am angry because you didn't tell me."

The breath caught in Y/n's throat. They took half a step back.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Halfway between an accusation and a plea. He was begging them, he had only done that once before. Y/n hadn't been strong enough then, but they were now.

"Because it was my burden to carry, not yours."

"I carried it anyways! I knew something was wrong, for years! I just had no idea what, no... no... frame of reference. Why didn't you tell me!?"

"I... I..." there was no hiding the truth, Y/n looked away, "I was scared that you would leave."

Alastor watched them in disbeleif.

"And you left anyway." they finished.

"I left because you didn't tell me. We could have stuck together, figured it out. We could have..."

It was Y/n's turn to be angry now. They turned back to him, their eyes alive with fire.

"We could have what?! You could have what?!" the scoffed, "You think I don't know it was all my fault?! You think I don't... don't blame myself for everything?! Didn't know why you really left?! Didn't... didn't realize?! I fucking know that you left because I didn't tell you! I know I caused... that I..." they let out a frustrated little scream, their hands tangling into their hair, "I. Know."

"You could have told me then, why didn't you? Why didn't you stop me if you knew you could!?"

"Because I was scared!"

Their eyes began to grow dark, their skin shifting and writhing like there were bugs crawling beneath its surface. Seeming to notice this, Y/n closed their eyes, taking a few deep breaths before opening them once again.

"Is that the curse?"

"Part of it." they admitted, "If I don't stay calm, I don't get to stay... well, stay me."

The reality of the situation hit Alastor like a ton of bricks, like a moving car. He did his best to calm himself.

"Whats the rest of it?"

Y/n said nothing and so, he tried again.

"I could have helped."

"Helped how, Alastor?" they asked, their voice coming out tired and nearly desperate, "How?"

"I could have found a cure."

"There is none." Y/n shook their head, "Believe me. I can do things to stave it off, keep it at bay but, nothing will take this beast away from me."

"You could try being redeemed."

They raised a fist to their chest, holding it over their heart. A pained expression had taken over their face, their body curling slightly in on itself.

"I don't want to. Not anymore. It... this thing... it's a part of me now. Besides, I couldn't leave Charlie."

"She has lots of people who care about her, people to take care of her. I am certain she would be fine."

"No, you don't understand." Y/n shook their head, "I can't leave her. I know she'd be fine on her own. She is such a wonder, such an incredible person. I need her."

"I wanted you."

Y/n straightened up, their eyes meeting his as their hand fell back to their side. They stared at one another in silence.

"I am sorry."

Alastor had never expected to hear those words. Not from them, not from anybody. He wasn't worthy of apology.

"I am too."

----

NEXT PART -> coming soon

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[swrkn]

Between the lines (part 2)

Highschool!hyuk x Highschool!reader

Genre ; sfw , fluff

Author note ; i said i was gonna do a part 2 to this story so here it is today ;)

Hyuk found himself walking to the library after school more often than he expected. At first, he told himself it was just about getting better at math. You were a great tutor, and his grades were actually starting to improve. But deep down, he knew the real reason he kept showing up was you.

Every session started the same way: you would wave him over to your usual spot by the window, where the afternoon light streamed in, illuminating notebooks and textbooks. You’d go through the problems, your patient voice guiding him through each step.

But over time, your conversations began to drift away from equations and formulas.

“So,” you said one afternoon, leaning back in your chair after you’d finished a particularly tough problem set, “how come you never talk much in class?”

Hyuk glanced at you, quit surprised. “Didn’t think anyone noticed.”

You smiled. “I notice. You’re always staring out the window, like you’re somewhere else.”

Hyuk shrugged, a little embarrassed. “Guess I just don’t like drawing attention to myself. People assume I don’t care about school, but it’s not that simple.”

You tilted your head, curious. “Then why don’t you show them what you’re capable of? You’re smarter than you let on, Hyuk.”

Your words caught him off guard. He’d never heard anyone say that before—not like they really believed it.

“Maybe,” he said, his voice softer. “I don’t know. It’s easier to just… stay in the background.”

You didn’t press further, but the way you looked at him made Hyuk feel like you saw right through his defenses.

“What about you?” he asked, changing the subject. “You’re always so focused. Don’t you ever get tired of being perfect all the time?”

You laughed, a sound that made Hyuk’s heart skip. “Perfect? Far from it. I just… I guess I feel like I have to prove myself. My parents expect a lot, and sometimes it feels like I’m always racing to keep up.”

Hyuk frowned. “That sounds tough.”

“It is,” you admitted, gaze dropping to your hands. “But that’s why I like these study sessions. It’s different. You’re different.”

Hyuk blinked. “Me?”

“Yeah,” you said, your smile returning. “You don’t pretend to be someone you’re not. It’s refreshing.”

Hyuk felt his face heat up, and for once, he was glad you weren’t looking directly at him.

As the weeks went on, your bond grew stronger. You’d laugh over dumb jokes, share stories about classmates, and sometimes, just sit in comfortable silence. Hyuk started to look forward to those quiet moments in the library, where it felt like the rest of the world didn’t matter.

One day, as y’all were packing up, you looked lire you were hesitating about something.

“Hey, Hyuk,” you said, with your voice a little nervous.

“Yeah?”

“There’s this school festival coming up next weekend. I was wondering if… you’d want to go with me? You know, as a break from all this studying.”

Hyuk stared at her, caught off guard. “Like… together?”

You nodded, looking embarrassed. “Yeah, I mean, if you want to.”

Hyuk’s heart raced. He’d been waiting for a moment like this, but now that it was here, he could hardly believe it.

“I’d like that,” he said, his voice steady despite the butterflies in his stomach. “Let’s go together.”

Your smile lit up the room. “Great. It’s a date, then.”

The festival was everything Hyuk had hoped for and more. The two of you wandered through the booths, playing games and sharing snacks. You laughed freely, your usual seriousness replaced by a playful energy that Hyuk couldn’t get enough of.

At one point, you found yourselves sitting under a tree, watching the sunset as the festival lights flickered on.

“This is nice,” you said, with a soft voice.

“Yeah,” Hyuk agreed, slightly glancing at you “It is.”

There was a brief silence, the kind that felt more like anticipation than awkwardness.

“Y/N,” Hyuk said, his voice a little hesitant.

You turned to him, with curious eyes. “Yeah?”

“I’ve been wanting to say something for a while now,” he admitted, his heart pounding. “I really like spending time with you. You make everything… better.”

Your eyes softened, and you reached out your hand, gently brushing against his. “I feel the same way, Hyuk.”

Hyuk’s breath caught. “Really?”

You nodded, your smile shy but sincere. “Yeah. I’ve liked you for a while now.”

Hyuk couldn’t help but grin. “Guess I’ve been pretty slow to catch up, huh?”

You laughed, squeezing his hand. “Maybe a little. But you’re here now, and that’s what matters.”

As the festival music played softly in the background, Hyuk leaned closer, his nerves fading. You met him halfway, your lips brushing in a gentle, tentative kiss.

When you pulled back, both of you were smiling, the weight of unspoken feelings finally lifted.

From that moment on, everything felt lighter, brighter. You weren’t just study partners or friends anymore. You were something more.

And for Hyuk, life suddenly felt a whole lot more meaningful.

✵