#i know nothing about cars except that they are pretty and i love to drive too fast

[webism]

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎HOT ROD !

After getting hooked on your taste, pornstar!satoru invites you and your pornstar boyfriend to shoot a threesome in the countryside.

pornstar!suguru x pornstar!satoru x fem!reader | part one, two

cw; ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎she/her pronouns used for reader, unprotected sex, creampies, oral (m and f receiving), anal (m receiving), mmf threesome, voyeurism.

The sun has barely risen, the typical tangelo orange of a morning sky is yet to develop—instead, you watch a dull pink canvas the sky, turned more of a rose colour through the car's windshield. Suguru Geto, your lover and costar alike, keeps his hand on your thigh as he drives. Occasionally, he'll tap his fingers against your exposed flesh along to the beat of the old niche rock song blaring through the radio. You have the volume up too high—which isn't good for your ears, but is great for the soul—and the windows rolled all the way down. The wind is in your hair, which aids the setting heat of Summer in Japan. It's quite pleasant out here. You're filming at a location you can only reach through an open road that goes right past some very scenic hills, and you're having a lovely time just enjoying your lover's company. Nothing but the two of you. 

That being said—something sits at the forefront of Suguru's mind. You can tell his thoughts are preoccupied, having been with him so long gets you a sweet look into that pretty mind of his. So, when the strings of an electric guitar die out, you turn the radio down and shift in your seat to face him better. 

“Cold feet?” You ask. 

His hair is up and out of his face, save for a stand that falls over his eyes, though it’s pushed back by the wind regardless. He glances at you, smiles, and looks away.

“I don’t get cold feet," he says flatly, looking at you for half a second before his focus returns to the road. “I'm just interested to see if he'll fuck as good with me there, of if the poor guy will get performance anxiety."

Ah, jealousy it is. The flat kind, because your sweet-boned lover never gets openly jealous. You have to settle for half-bitten quips. You smile, "he didn't seem like the type to get performance anxiety."

Suguru hums in a noncommittal way, his lips pulling inwards. He squeezes the fat of your thigh and taps a finger against your skin.  Your skin heats under his touch, it always does. You might earn your living through the most sensual of touches, but none of them quite set you alight like Sugurus does.

Well, except for Satoru. You try to avoid closing your eyes, in fear of being met with the memory of his cock sinking into you rather than the darkness of your closed eyelids. You feel half-guilty, despite Suguru's obvious itch to see you laid out for Satoru Gojo of all people. You know him, you wouldn't be driving forty minutes through the countryside if Suguru wasn't at least a little bit obsessed with the fantasy.

Satoru Gojo, a known name in the porn industry, got to fuck you stupid only a week ago. He had asked you out for drinks after, and though you rejected him verbally, you’re starting to fear that your mind didn’t reject him in the same regard. You had come home that night to your sweet Suguru, and told him all about being hit on by your co-star, to which he laughed.

And oh the irony, that your Suguru was balls-deep inside of you that night when the two of you got an email from Satoru’s agent– an offer, an expensive one. One shoot, a week from then, a threesome between his new favourite love birds and, of course, him.

Suguru remembers Satoru like he was the season prior, like the winter that bled into you, the spring. They did a few films together, Satoru got a little too stuck in Sugurus mind and then, once their contracts were up, they never spoke again. 

The rising sun makes him squint against the road— he almost misses the turn off to the countryside estate you had been told to meet at. The place is nice, big, and you’re starting to wonder just how widely distributed this porno will be if the producer is shelling out so much money just for an estate to rent out for half a day. 

“With how much they’re paying us, I half expected the budget for location to allow for a crack den at most,” Suguru snorts as he pulls in through the large paved driveway. 

“No kidding,” you hum. With this paycheck, you’d just be greedy looking for work in the next few months. 

Suguru parks and undoes his seatbelt with a sideways glance in your direction. “We’re a bit early,” he notes. “But it never hurts to get a feel for the place, talk to our co-star for a minute or two.”

You smile. “Mhm, talk.”

“Ready to get fucked for cash?” Suguru snorts, and opens his door to get out of the car. You follow suit, rolling your eyes at his crude words when your feet hit the ground and you’re closing your door behind you. 

You walk around the car to meet your boyfriend, and he greets you with a pinch to your ass and a kiss to your temple. You’d recognise something poetic in the contrast of his actions if your mind wasn’t so preoccupied with thoughts of performing for him in only a few moments. 

Despite both being pornstars, you rarely take scenes together. Threesomes aren’t a frequent venture— this is something relatively untapped for the both of you. And though you’re sure it would never jeopardise your relationship at all, you can’t help but entertain the worries that creep in. Will Suguru really not mind sharing? 

You aren’t sure what’s worse— the thought of him getting overly jealous of Satoru and cutting the scene short, or the thought of Suguru not minding in the slightest as you get fucked stupid by another man. A little possession never goes unappreciated on your end. 

“Hey,” Suguru’s silken voice brings you back to the now. “You okay? We can turn around and speed off into the sunrise if you want to leave.”

You grin. “I’m good. Excited, even.”

Your boyfriend nods and leads the way to the estate's front door. It’s closed, which is a little odd considering the production crew will be coming in and out with equipment and the such. You furrow your eyebrows and realise your car is the only one here—maybe you’re earlier than you realised. 

“You checked the shoot time, right?” you ask. 

“Yes, love,” Suguru makes it to the front door and tries the handle only to find it locked. “Fuck, maybe I should have triple checked.”

He presses a thick finger to the doorbell button and glances to you as the sound of an overly upbeat chime echoes through the estate. Maybe it’s the wrong place, too lavish to be true. Maybe it’s the wrong date, even. Maybe—

The door swings open, and standing to greet you with a knowing grin is Satoru Gojo. 

His eyes meet yours first, and then drop to take in the rest of you. Something soft flashes over his face. Lust, perhaps, or appreciation, maybe both.  His arms cross over his chest, leaning his body weight on the doorframe as he flits his gaze to your boyfriend, and his eyes return.

“Long time no see, lovebirds. Just on time," he chirps, stepping aside to let you in. "Excuse the mess, I just moved in."

It takes a moment for your brain to register his words, and Suguru is right behind you in thought. "This is your place?" he asks, appraising the foyer as he walks in. 

“Mhm,” Gojo replies, and though you expect his lilt to be more cocky, he speaks smooth like silk. “The city is too… busy for me. Plus.. saves a dollar on renting out a house to film in, right?”

You can’t help the smile that pulls at your lips: from the looks of his home you doubt he’d blink an eye at paying rent for a night of filming. Still, you don’t know if he’s just trying to show off, or if he really wants his home to play backdrop for the shoot. But whatever the case, he definitely thinks it’s clever on his behalf to lead the both of you here. It worked, you give it to him, but damn.

You look around, taking in everything that catches your eye – the sleek furnishings, a wide kitchen to the left, and an elegant living room straight ahead. All of it feels clean and welcoming. You wonder, idly, what it's like for Gojo to live in a space like this all alone – if he is alone, that is. The question remains unanswered as Gojo leads the two of you down the hall until you reach another door and slip inside.

The bedroom you end up in is stunning; a double bed dominates the centre of the room with fluffy duvets thrown haphazardly over top, whilst the walls are painted a warm, calming shade of grey. The carpet is plush and dark brown in colour, the curtains hanging at either side of the grand windows allow for plenty of natural light to flood the room. There's a tripod set up with a very expensive looking camera pointed directly at the bed: Satoru points to it and grins at you and Suguru, "our camera crew."

You furrow your eyebrows, but Suguru speaks up before you can. "It's just us?" 

Satoru nods, crossing his corded arms and he flits his gaze between the two of you. "Yes. I did specify it was a private shoot, lovebirds."

Your boyfriend settles in closer beside you than before, you can feel the heat from his body as he crosses his own arms, a mirror of the white haired man in front of you. "I figured it was a private production shoot," he speaks cautiously. "The email I got was from an agent, not you directly."

Satoru looks unperturbed. "'Course," he says languidly. "She handles all my correspondence."

Gojo turns to the dresser and, from the top drawer, pulls out two white envelopes. Your eyes linger a little too long on his slender fingers as he hands them over to you, one each. As you peek into the envelope handed to you, you find an obscene amount of cash neatly sat inside. 

"As agreed, plus... a little extra for the commute," Gojo shrugs. "You can take it and go, if this isn't what you want. If it is, well..." He gestures to the bed. "I'm kinda dying here."

You glance down at his insinuation and find that he's beyond hard. His pants are tight and tented, making his arousal painfully evident. You have to force your gaze elsewhere – to Suguru, who is staring almost shamelessly at Gojo, his brows creased in the middle as he thinks.

The silence is deafening, you can feel the tension rising between the three of you, vibrating off the surface of your skin and permeating the air itself. Suguru seems to have made his mind up, because he turns to you with an awfully familiar look on his face: desire.

"Thoughts, darling?" he asks, and your stomach flips. 

There's no point in pretending that there aren't things wrong with how your mind still reels after Satoru's touch. This entire thing has been confusing and disorientating; you're confused about everything – your feelings, your career, your sexual desires – and now, in your current situation, you’re downright torn. And yet, despite that, despite all the questions swirling around in your mind, as soon as your eyes land on Satoru's again – you know you'd die without another taste of his pink glossed lips. That feeling, the desire, the forethought of how he'd pant and whine after you've fucked him senseless – you'll do anything to achieve it. 

This doesn’t feel like work anymore, not with the way these two men are looking at you. The camera isn’t even rolling yet, and yet you find yourself ready to fuck them both to the brink of oblivion.

So, without so much as a second of hesitation you pull away from your train of thought and turn to press your lips to Suguru's in a searing kiss. The action, so swift, causes Gojo's breath to hitch in his throat at the sight. Suguru kisses you back, of course, the hand that isn't holding his envelope quickly makes its way to your waistline and pulls you flush against him, leaving nothing but your clothes between the both of you. You wrap your arms loosely around his neck as Gojo watches the two of you intently, gaze burning into the meeting of your lips. You can feel him watching you, his spectatorship dizzying, and you bite Suguru's bottom lip in an attempt to stifle the moan bubbling up your throat.

“Jeez, didn’t know this was a cuckolding shoot,” Satoru sounds whiney, threadbare with lust. “Though I wouldn’t mind that… another time maybe.”

You place a hand on the planes of Suguru’s chest as you disconnect your lips and turn your head to the white-haired pervert with heart-shaped pupils. Your grin is sweet, sultry - "another time, huh?"

You pull apart from Suguru and move past Gojo, making a point not to glance in his direction, until you're crawling onto the bed and turning to rest with your elbows propping you up. Both Suguru and Satoru standing, your observers - admirers, is a sight for sore eyes. The camera sits between them, propped up and set on you. In spite of it, you feel oddly at home. The same sweet excitement builds within you that you normally feel when it’s just you and Suguru at home. You didn't know the air could weigh so intimately in front of a camera.

It takes a moment of staring at you, jaw slack, for Satoru to finally spring into thought. He steps towards the camera, makes sure everything is looking good, and then clears his throat as he presses record. He almost looks nervous, and if he weren't so cocky in his usual demeanour you'd think he's getting cold feet. But you remember the way his eyes glossed when he pushed into you, how that confidence of his melted into carnal need in just one thrust. You know what you do to him, and god does it seem amplified tenfold with Suguru here.

And your black-haired lover must know it too, because the second Satoru makes a move to speak, Suguru cuts him off with a step towards him and a burning kiss pressed to his lips. Satoru's sound of alarm at Suguru's lips on his is almost enough to send you dizzy, but the true aphrodisiac is the sight of your lover taking charge with him; lips locked onto one another, the lewd noises they make as Suguru cups Satoru's face with one hand and scratches into the back of his hair with the other. Satoru's moans become louder and more desperate, as Suguru's tongue explores the recesses of his mouth, sucking hungrily upon the flesh of his lower lip. When the two break apart they're both breathing heavily, panting as they catch their breath. An undoubted look of longing is etched into every last one of their handsome features.

You feel your stomach roil with anticipation as you watch them, realising the camera is only pointed at you, capturing your wanton expression. But then, it snaps, and suddenly your lovers are pulling apart to instead lay their gaze on you, resting back on Satoru's wildly comfortable bed sheets with a lust-driven smile pulling at your lips.

“You’re a fucking lucky man, Suguru,” Satoru coos, blue eyes raking over you in appreciation. You’re hardly undressed, and yet you feel naked under his gaze. “Don’t know how you can do porn when you’ve got such a pretty thing waiting for you at home. It’d ruin my performance.”

“I know,” Suguru says plainly, truly. "You've never been good at multitasking, have you Satoru?"

"Harsh words," Satoru pouts, giving his best imitation of an overly dramatic frown. "I can multitask just fine, do you need me to prove it?"

Without a word further, he plucks the camera from its tripod and points it at Suguru. "For example," he sing-songs, "I can fuck and film at the same time."

“Can’t do it dressed,” you point out, to which both men turn to find you already stripping yourself of your clothes. Satoru turns the camera onto you, finding it a sin to not capture you revealing yourself with such delicate fingers. You look into the lens, eyes sultry as you’re known for doing, and wonder just how many people are going to slip their hands under their waistbands at the sight of you. 

Once you’ve laid yourself bare, your naked skin feels static with the tension in the air, you reach your hands out and make grabby-hands at Satoru. “Pass the camera,” you hum. “It’s your turn.”

A glance between themselves, and then Satoru is leaning over the bed to slot the camera in your hands. It’s heavier than you’d thought it would be, but feels nice and cooling against your otherwise sweaty palm. Satoru’s fingers brush over yours as he hands it over, something electric stills the room for a moment, and then he pulls away with a cough.

He hadn’t realised that Suguru had fallen into place behind him, because when he steps backwards and his back hits your boyfriend's chest, Satoru gasps. You capture the pink blush that speckles at his cheeks, and the beautiful way in which Sugurus hands snake around his body to caress down his chest.

Suguru has always been gifted in the way of sparking intimacy. It’s why the porn he shoots is usually so artistic, he’s sensual. And Satoru, not for the first time, is falling victim to his seductive ways. The gentle traces of his fingers down Satoru’s chest is testament enough to just how narcotic Suguru’s touch is. When he reaches the hem of his shirt and starts lifting upwards, unwrapping his next meal, Satoru can’t help but lift his arms and help move the process along — he’s feeling beyond restless. 

Now exposed, Satoru’s chest and torso are now at the mercy of Suguru’s searing touch. Each trail of his fingers down the white-haired man’s chest, each tweak over his surprisingly sensitive nipples, each rough kiss against the column of his neck, they all elicit the most pornographic moans from Satoru Gojo’s throat. You study them both through the camera’s screen, and watch as Suguru presses his lips against Satoru’s ear.

He speaks in hushed tones, enough so that you know the camera isn’t going to pick up on his words. You can hear them though, only just, they're low and sensual and entirely full of sin. "You're lucky I'm letting you fuck my girlfriend for a second time," he purrs. "You know, she hasn’t stopped thinking about your last shoot. We watched it together the other night, I matched your rhythm, let her pretend it was you. She’s obsessed."

You're almost embarrassed by the confession, a burn sheens your skin, but the way Satoru's eyes darken impossibly further calms you. Suguru grins, catching your gaze from over Satoru's shoulder, and presses a kiss to his earlobe. "It brought me back, too," he says. "To when I got you to myself. You remember our films, hm? You're just like she is." 

Satoru nods, the tips of his ears turning redder. His breathing is shallow, ragged, needy; and in a split second he's turning around and returning his lips to Suguru's. Desperate hands lift at your boyfriend's own shirt, exposing his tattoo-laden skin underneath. His jeans soon follow, and then so do Satoru's pants.

For a moment it's just the two of them, all clothes bar their boxers discarded to the floor and hands exploring bare skin. The warmth of Satoru's fingers digging into his chest, his ribs, his hips, the hard planes of his body, their bodies pressed together as if to become one. Their lips connect again, hungrily, their teeth knocking together with every brush of tongues. Satoru takes Suguru's lower lip between his teeth and bites hard enough to elicit a choked groan from the back of Suguru's throat.

And when they part, it's obvious just how much heavier the air has gotten. Suguru turns your white-haired tryst and pushes him towards where you sit on the bed. "Move your ass before I fuck that too," he deadpans.

Satoru doesn't blush like you expected he would. Instead, he grins. "That would be a big change from last time, don't you think?" he sing-songs, eyebrows raised as he steps further towards the bed. "Or maybe you don't remember crying from how well I stretched you out, I sure do, all pretty and—"

This time Suguru does flush crimson, and you laugh out loud at this revelation. "I didn't know you bottomed for him," you shake the camera a little with your laughter, capturing the way Suguru glares at Satoru from beneath long eyelashes, "that's something I've got to see."

"Hah," Suguru climbs onto the bed and snatches the camera from you, settling on his knees as he points it down at your form. There, his fingers graze lightly against your bare skin, making you arch your back in anticipation. "Tough luck, pretty."

His black boxers are beyond tented, and he slips them off easily enough, allowing his cock to spring free, perfectly poised and ready for your hand. The sound of Suguru's moan as your fingers wrap around his length is paired with the shuffle of Satoru climbing onto the bed too. He hovers above you for a moment, watching you stroke Suguru through the camera, before taking it from him with a grin. 

Satoru returns the camera to its stand and checks its positioning before climbing back onto the bed and settling himself just behind you. You turn to smile at him, and then gasp as his hands tentatively find your shoulders. He peers over you, to the sight of Suguru’s drooling cock in your hand, and presses a kiss to the skin just under your ear.

“You know I’m fucking obsessed with you, right?” He purrs, glancing down to your boyfriend's cock before pressing another kiss to your shoulder. “Haven’t stopped thinking about you. I dreamt of breaking you and your boyfriend up until I found out it was Sugu, here. Wanted you all to myself, pretty thing, but I think I’m happy enough to share now, because god do I want to see your lips wrapped around his cock.”

“Mm,” you hum, turning your head to meet his gaze. “You haven’t even kissed me yet, and you’re making demands?”

Satoru smiles, his lips glossy and so perfect you could cry. “I want to taste him on you.”

His words light a fire in your core that licks through your body, ravenous. You can't help but oblige at his words, returning your gaze to sweet Suguru before dipping your head down and pressing a chaste kiss to the weeping tip of his cock. Suguru and Satoru both inhale sharply when you do so. You wet your lips with your tongue and then meet his cock again, drawing lazy circles across his tip before closing your lips slowly, reverently around the shaft of Suguru's cock.

Satoru's hand pushes down a little on your shoulder, and you're forced forward onto your lover's length. Your moan betrays you and sends narcotic vibrations down his shaft, making Suguru grunt and buck his hips forward a little. Satoru, who remains behind you, gently takes hold of your hips and manoeuvres you into more of a doggy-style position — your fingers splayed over Suguru's thighs to try and find purchase as Satoru leans over you. 

Gojo's chest presses against your back, skin-to-skin intimacy broken by the feverish kisses he presses to the back of your neck, down to your shoulder blades, your spine, His kisses become hotter, wetter, open-mouthed as he moves down to your waist, large hands playing with the flesh of your ass as he kisses a path down. You moan and shift against his grip, moving your hips in an effort to push yourself back against his boxer-clad erection, but Satoru only snaps you forward, and you choke a little as you're forced to take Suguru's cock even deeper down your throat.

"Fuck," Suguru hisses, pretty purple eyes meeting yours as you look up. Drool glosses his length, slick and hot and heavy against your tongue when he finally gives you a moment to breathe. 

Your mouth immediately goes back to work again once your breathing steadies, hollowing out your cheeks and dragging him down, deeper, faster, more desperately. The receipt of pleasure etched into Suguru's tight-wound face is enough to spur on your own needs, but you nearly choke when Satoru Gojo bites into the fat of your ass. Your body arches up and you squirm and whine, but Satoru is relentless, licking over the indentations left behind as Suguru snaps his hips into your open mouth over and over again.

You barely have room to move before Satoru is pushing your knees apart with a strong hand, the heel of his palm firm against your ass as he spreads you open. He takes a moment, heavy breaths fan against your exposed slick, and you’re suddenly all too aware of yourself. You’d protest, tell him not to stare if your mouth wasn’t full with your heavy-lidded lover's cock. You don’t even know why you’re embarrassed — you’re a pornstar, your job is to lie subject to the most intimate of ogling.

Your thoughts melt into the bedsheets, however, when Satoru groans and connects his lips to your pussy. Stupid off the taste of you alone, he whines against your slick heat, enamoured. His tongue flicks over you, circling your clit repeatedly and making your insides burn. You moan, and it comes out muffled and breathless around Suguru's dick.

"You taste so fucking good," Satoru speaks against your cunt. One hand slips between your legs, running two fingers through your folds in collection of your arousal, whilst his other hand tugs down at his own boxers, pulling his cock free and growling against your pussy as he starts to stroke at himself. "Fuuuuuckkk..." He pushes two fingers into you, easy with just how wet you are, and curls them in tandem with each pump of his cock.

Each thrust of his fingers pushes you just that little bit further onto Suguru's length. And you're thanking god that he's there, because without his muscled thighs to hold onto, you fear you’d be fucked too dizzy to keep yourself upright. You figure you must look a mess now, hair mussed and eyes bleary and drool rolling down your chin and all over Suguru's pulsing cock. 

You feel pathetic with how quickly your orgasm crests. Satoru must feel it too, how you clench around your fingers, the subtle tremor in your thighs, because his tongue only speeds up in its assault.  He's still stroking himself, keeping you open and willing as he sucks your clit harshly. Once you're right at the brink, teetering off the edge of ecstasy, Suguru pulls out of your mouth and leans down to crash his lips against yours. 

"Come," he orders into your mouth, tasting himself on your tongue. "Come for us, darling, come on now."

You're overwhelmed by Suguru's rakish lips over yours, and Satoru's relentless tongue over your sex. Before you can even try to present yourself for the cameras, you're cumming, hard. You writhe against Suguru, and your nails scrape across his thighs until you can hardly draw breath. The world slows down around you, leaving nothing but pleasure to consume.

"Holy shit," Satoru’s breath comes out in a hitched sort of laughter as he pulls back, not bothering to wipe away the sheen of your lust that coats his mouth and chin. “My head’s spinning, I think I’m in heaven. Do I still have a pulse?”

He makes a show of checking his pulse, despite the way you roll your eyes. You’re still coming down from your climax as Suguru peppers feather-light kisses over your face. Satoru, feeling more hungry than doting, brings his two fingers to his own mouth, licking them clean. Suguru catches sight of the action and gently pulls back from you, something knowing in his eyes.

You assume he’s going to redirect your head back to his cock, let you finish your job, but instead he tuts and nods his head to your shared tryst, who is still diligently working at tasting you some more on his fingers. 

“Think someone’s a little pussydrunk,” Suguru grins, and you do too at the sight of Satoru Gojo so blatantly desperate for more. Your eyes drift down to his cock, long and hard and weeping with precum. 

Though, you don’t want to neglect Suguru, so you turn back to him — “you didn’t finish,” you make a move to reach for his cock, still rock hard and achy-looking, but your lover shakes his head gently. 

“Got other plans,” he nods subtly to Gojo. “How about we show our stalker here just how much better the real thing is?”

You grin, catching onto his drift, and watch over your shoulder as Satoru rolls his pretty blue eyes. “You know, I’ve had the real thing, from both of you.”

“You haven’t had both of us,” Suguru shrugs. “And I know you’ve fucked your fist to the thought of it. Don’t lie, or you won’t enjoy this as much as you could.”

Satoru’s loaded remark gets stuck in his throat as Suguru pulls away from you entirely, though not without a gentle kiss to your forehead first. He stands by the bed, rolls his shoulders and nods to Satoru — “go on,” he gestures to you, still on your hands and knees. “Taste me on her lips.”

Satoru would probably blush if he weren’t so dedicated to the promise of a taste, because he’s got a hand under your stomach and is flipping you onto your back with ease in only half a second. You sigh at the reprieve of the strain on your hands and knees, and revel in how soft Satoru’s mattress is, when he’s collapsing on top of you with a strangled growl and his lips are meeting yours.

It’s a strange thing, to taste both Satoru, yourself, and Suguru at the same time. You taste Satoru in the way he kisses, hungry and listless, with knocking teeth and exploratory tongues. You taste Suguru in the remnants of his cock in your mouth, the precum that has coated your tongue, mixed with your saliva that now mixes with Gojo’s. And you taste yourself glossed on Satoru’s lips; your climax, the buildup of pleasure he had gifted you with both his mouth and fingers. 

A strange mix, maybe, but a perfect one nonetheless. You have to close your eyes to stop yourself from growing too dizzy, and also partly to stop yourself from worrying too hard — how were you meant to enjoy anything to its full potential now that you know how this tastes?

Satoru’s cock presses against the inside of your thigh; you can feel the gentle thrum of its pulse — a testament to his aching need. His arms box you in on either side, settled comfortably between your still-shaky legs. When he pulls back, a string of saliva connects your lips to his, and his eyes are darker than you remember. 

“I need to be inside of you, need. You’re fuckin’... god I can’t think.”

As if by instinct, your legs part further, allowing him the access he so craves. It’s a fluid movement, the way he moves one hand down to direct his cock to your slick folds. He rubs himself against you, his tip kissing your clit teasingly. You suck in a shaky breath between parted lips, and when he doesn’t hurry up despite his desperation, you feel like you could cry.

Though, before a complaint can leave your lips, you're watching as Suguru joins you two on the bed, kneeling behind Satoru and running his long fingers gently down the white-haired man's bare back. Satoru's head falls forward at the touch, and as your boyfriends hand runs lower and lower on his back, you realise exactly where this is going. 

"You're gonna fuck her good," Suguru purrs, graceful in his touch. "Because I'm going to help you -- that okay?" He reaches back up, brushing his knuckles from between his shoulder blades, down the curve of his spine until he reaches his tailbone. 

Satoru's eyes are locked on yours as he answers your lover. "Yes," his exhale is beyond needy. "Please, god. Yes."

And from there, things move with practised ease. It feels normal to submit yourself, your body, to Satoru. As Suguru takes hold of either side of his waist and guides him into you, the stretch is searing. You remember just how hard it was to adjust to his size the first time, having to try and keep your face melted neutral for the cameras. You don't feel that same pressure now, despite Satoru still filming, and your nose scrunches up at the feeling of Satoru inside of you.

"You're..." you try, words stuck in your throat as Suguru pushes Satoru's hips into yours a little more. "Please."

Satoru takes control of the pace, his breath hot and heavy on your cheek, his body moving in sync. You moan as he starts thrusting slowly in and out, stretching every muscle in your body as you get used to the feeling. With every thrust, you feel him getting harder and deeper within you, and his mouth dips down to trail along the sensitive skin on your neck.

It's a narcotic, the way he fills you. He's longer than Suguru, though not quite as thick, but he reaches depths that aren't typical for you. As he sheathes himself deeper and deeper inside of you, with the help of Suguru's hands on his waist, You slowly become spineless; relaxing into the pleasure of his sweet push and pull.

Sweat beads at your skin as Satoru quickens the pace, pulling out and plunging back in again with unbridled whimpers as Suguru works on taking his fill. Your boyfriend, domineering though still gentle, starts working your tryst open with one of his fingers.

"Ah- fuck," Satoru's words are heady with need, the initial discomfort of Suguru's fingers pushing into his ass are quickly forgotten, replaced with a deep yearning for more sensation. It sends his hips snapping into yours, bottoming out inside of you at such depths you can't help but cry out. It's a symphony of wetness and gasps of air, each syllable punctuated by Satoru's frantic movements. Your body grows tighter and tighter around Satoru with every pass as he gets worked open so beautifully by Suguru.

Your mind is clouded by everything Satoru has done to you and by the sheer force of him filling you with his cock and all that comes with it. You're completely and utterly lost in the moment, consumed by Satoru, who is consumed by Suguru, who is consumed in the pleasure of serving you both in turn. 

"More," Satoru is barely able to get the word out as he slams deeper and deeper inside of you. "Fuck, more."

And Suguru isn't one to deny a pretty thing like Satoru such pleasures; he's pulling his fingers out of him in seconds and replacing them with the head of his cock at his ass. Suguru is gentle, but unrelenting as he thrusts himself into Satoru in one fluid motion. The pressure is enough to prick tears at Satoru's pretty blue eyes, which you reach up and wipe away from underneath him. 

A moment is shared, a chance for Satoru to breathe the best he can, before he's testing the waters and pushing back a little, onto Suguru's cock, before thrusting his hips forward, into you. 

This is ecstasy incarnate. The two men seem to merge together, their bodies melting as they meet. Suguru fucks you through Satoru, each thrust into him is a thrust into you, into the both of you. It almost hurts, you'd wager, the way your whole body throbs in synchronization with theirs, the way Satoru moans as Suguru drives you both to insanity. It's a weird way to connect with your lover, but one that works nonetheless, the both of you seem to share an awful yearning for the man sandwiched between you, fucked mindless. 

And then he's driving your entire being towards the edge, and you feel the orgasm coming on, the rush of blood to your head, your muscles tightening around Satoru. It's a strange feeling of being connected to something bigger than yourself, a system working in tandem with each other to chase climax, but it's a feeling you're quickly growing addicted to. It's warm, it's comforting, and most importantly, it's yours. This man right here, his body pressed tight between yours and Sugurus, is yours. Even if only for the early morning.

"Gonna cum," you whine, lips ghosting against Satoru's. He nods, eyes locked onto yours. 

"M—fuck—me too, baby. God, you have to let me come inside of you, doll, can't deny me, please. You—"

"You better," Suguru cuts in, his voice biting from behind Satoru. He thrusts sharply into Satoru, sending him keening forward into you, pressing right into your sensitive g-spot as Suguru hits his prostate in a mirrored pleasure. "Wanna watch you claim her," he bears down, "gonna fill you up, you fill her — watch her face, Satoru. Watch what you do to her."

You gasp as Satoru's fingers dip down to rub frantic circles over your clit, pushing you closer and closer to orgasm with each knock of his hips into your, of Suguru's into his. the room is filled with a chorus of moans and whines and desperate pleas for more and more and more. You know you'll never recover from this level of arousal if you don't come soon, but before you can find purchase in your body and begin your descent into bliss, Suguru is first to come undone.

His hips snap forward into Satoru, head craning into his neck, biting down on the muscle of his shoulders for some sort of physical gag — ever the one to stifle those beautiful noises of his. And the feeling of being filled in such ravaging volumes must be enough to send Satoru over the edge, too, because he's knitting his eyebrows together and cumming ropes into you in only moments.

"Fuck," he whines, once again tears prick at his eyes, overwhelmed by the duality of his pleasure, of you and Suguru, so close to you but also never close enough. He wants to be one with you, a complete unit, bound by sex and soul and the sweet sounds of the most powerful orgasm he's ever had in his life. 

You come in tandem with him, it's completely blinding. Your legs fall apart as you cry out, nails scraping across Satoru's bicep as the world melts away and the sensations start swirling about in your mind's eye and the last thing you register is Satoru collapsing forward, breathing raggedly into your ear. 

You catch the salty flavour of him as you suck in a lungful of air and smile in response, fucked stupid and blissful and never ready to give this feeling up. Never ready to give anyone else this feeling- god, you already despise whoever gets to taste Satoru Gojo next. 

Suguru has to pull out of Satoru slowly, and you wipe at his face with the pad of your thumb when it scrunches up in protest of the loss of Suguru’s stretch. Before he can truly call the scene over, though, Satoru leans down and presses the most gentle of kisses to your lips. A myriad of ‘thankyouthankyouthankyou’s spill from his tongue as he does so, each word cut by a kiss to the expanse of your face.

And when he pulls out of you a sickening gush of his cum follows. It spills from your aching pussy and onto the bed sheets beneath you, though Satoru doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest. He swipes his finger through the mess he’s made of your sex, smiling when you hiss at just how sensitive you are, and brings his cum-coated finger back to his mouth, eyes never leaving yours. 

Your stomach flips at the sight. Great, he’s gone and fucked you lovestruck.

“Satoru,” a clean voice cuts in. Your head constricts in your fucked out daze when you turn to see Suguru standing by the tripod, his eyebrows raised and pretty purple eyes beyond amused. “It’s not even fucking recording.”

Instead of being confused, Satoru looks sheepish. He flops down onto the bed next to you, eyes glossy and cheeks blushed pink. “I…. can explain? I think I’d rather die than share the two of you with the world. But I’d really die if I didn’t get my hands on you both.”

You meet your boyfriend's gaze. Something passes between you, something knowing. In a weird, probably unhealthy way, you both feel the exact same. This was never a scene for the cameras, anyway— not when such strong… feelings are involved.

“I’m not proposing marriage here,” Satoru huffs when he catches onto your shared gaze. “I just, you enjoyed it, right?”

You giggle from beside him, your sweat-soaked skin cool against the air. Suguru chimes in with his laughter, melodic and beautiful. He folds his arms and watches the two of you laid across the bed. 

“Let’s get you both cleaned up, then,” Suguru hums. “I’m not fucking either of you again until we’ve shared a shower.

TAGLIST: @sugurubabe @fullbelieverheart @starrysho @meowforluv @ch3rryistheg @miizuzu @okayiamkassandra @inconcise @sexcults @hotgirlgoob @mistalli @ourfinalisation @graceloveslanadelrey @blessed-princesa @plinkuro @pe4rl-diver @sugojosgf @beachaddict48 @chimmysoftpaws @blendingcaramal @dongh9e @caramelised-onions @kyluskaye @sammywo @4evrglow @hiraethwa @stinkinstuffie @tomiokasecretlover @ser0t0nln @yuzu-ku @lagataprrr @dear-fifi @hel-lhound @kensqueent @sserafin @dabisdolly @zoroisminty @angelkazusstuff @reinam00n @kaeyakaikai @bunny416 @littletittygothgirl @glitterbitch1 @saccharine-nectarine

cont in comments !

[chansaw]

i read donald sutherland’s letter to gary ross pleading for the role of president snow and was so struck by his eloquence, wit, and humor. i’m posting it in full below. what a loss </3

Dear Gary Ross:

Power. That's what this is about? Yes? Power and the forces that are manipulated by the powerful men and bureaucracies trying to maintain control and possession of that power?

Power perpetrates war and oppression to maintain itself until it finally topples over with the bureaucratic weight of itself and sinks into the pages of history (except in Texas), leaving lessons that need to be learned unlearned.

Power corrupts, and, in many cases, absolute power makes you really horny. Clinton, Chirac, Mao, Mitterrand.

Not so, I think, with Coriolanus Snow. His obsession, his passion, is his rose garden. There's a rose named Sterling Silver that's lilac in colour with the most extraordinarily powerful fragrance — incredibly beautiful — I loved it in the seventies when it first appeared. They've made a lot of offshoots of it since then.

I didn't want to write to you until I'd read the trilogy and now I have so: roses are of great importance. And Coriolanus's eyes. And his smile. Those three elements are vibrant and vital in Snow. Everything else is, by and large, perfectly still and ruthlessly contained. What delight she [Katniss] gives him. He knows her so perfectly. Nothing, absolutely nothing, surprises him. He sees and understands everything. He was, quite probably, a brilliant man who's succumbed to the siren song of power.

How will you dramatize the interior narrative running in Katniss's head that describes and consistently updates her relationship with the President who is ubiquitous in her mind? With omniscient calm he knows her perfectly. She knows he does and she knows that he will go to any necessary end to maintain his power because she knows that he believes that she's a real threat to his fragile hold on his control of that power. She's more dangerous than Joan of Arc.

Her interior dialogue/monologue defines Snow. It's that old theatrical turnip: you can't 'play' a king, you need everybody else on stage saying to each other, and therefore to the audience, stuff like "There goes the King, isn't he a piece of work, how evil, how lovely, how benevolent, how cruel, how brilliant he is!" The idea of him, the definition of him, the audience's perception of him, is primarily instilled by the observations of others and once that idea is set, the audience's view of the character is pretty much unyielding. And in Snow's case, that definition, of course, comes from Katniss.

Evil looks like our understanding of the history of the men we're looking at. It's not what we see: it's what we've been led to believe. Simple as that. Look at the face of Ted Bundy before you knew what he did and after you knew.

Snow doesn't look evil to the people in Panem's Capitol. Bundy didn't look evil to those girls. My wife and I were driving through Colorado when he escaped from jail there. The car radio's warning was constant. 'Don't pick up any young men. The escapee looks like the nicest young man imaginable'. Snow's evil shows up in the form of the complacently confident threat that's ever-present in his eyes. His resolute stillness. Have you seen a film I did years ago? 'The Eye of the Needle'. That fellow had some of what I'm looking for.

The woman who lived up the street from us in Brentwood came over to ask my wife a question when my wife was dropping the kids off at school. This woman and her husband had seen that movie the night before and what she wanted to know was how my wife could live with anyone who could play such an evil man. It made for an amusing dinner or two but part of my wife's still wondering.

I'd love to speak with you whenever you have a chance so I can be on the same page with you.

They all end up the same way. Welcome to Florida, have a nice day!

sourced from this article

[wcters]

𝗚𝗢𝗟𝗗 𝗠𝗘𝗗𝗔𝗟 𝗕𝗔𝗕𝗬

pairing: lando norris x fem!gymnast!reader

summary: a new quadrant athlete and lando norris hit it off

warnings: fluff, established relationship, nothing else really, these warnings are mostly just notes on what is in these | faceclaim is sunisa lee, this is definitely one of my favourites that i’ve done 😌

yourusername and quadrant

liked by quadrant, landonorris, and 423,731 others

yourusername so excited to announce that i am joining quadrant athletes !!!!! had such a fun time filming so keep your eyes peeled

view all 374 comments

maxfewtrell so excited to see what’s in store!

user1 nah cause we all knows he’s going to eat them up

keeganpalmer i totally had that last one

↳ yourusername i don’t doubt that, you did really well 👏

landonorris so hyped for this

user2 love love love

riabish finally another girl to join me and lotte❤️

↳ yourusername us girls have to stick together 👯‍♀️

↳ lottevandrunen401 hell yeah we do 💪💪

user3 she’s going to humiliate them in any gymnastic challenges 😭😭

↳ user4 she’s naturally good at everything, i wouldn’t be surprised if she does that for every video

quadrant 👀👀

quadrant

liked by yourusername, landonorris, and 47,093 others

quadrant GOLD MEDALIST GYMAST vs GOLD MEDALIST SKATEBOARDER vs LANDO NORRIS

can keegan palmer and lando norris beat y/n y/l/n at different gymnastics levels? full video out now!

view all 148 comments

user1 they knew they were cooked from the first level 💀💀

user2 their reactions were priceless

yourusername good try boys 💪 I’m just too good

↳ maxfewtrell someone needed to get lando’s ego down a couple notches

↳ landonorris that’s so not true

user3 keegan actually did pretty well

user4 with a little more training keegan could do a lot of hard moves

keeganpalmer i’m very proud of myself 😌

landonorris i’m going to stick with race car driving

user5 i would pay to see max’s reactions to lando falling from the bar 💀

f1gossip

liked by user1, user3, and 18,762 others

f1gossip   lando norris seen partying with friends in a club in london this weekend 🇬🇧 

view all 75 comments

user1   brother does not stop 

user2   are my eyes playing tricks on me or is that him and y/n in the third photo???

↳ user3   no i see it too, keegan is there as well

user4   did you see them giggling and whispering to each other in the new video? something definitely happened that night

user5 y/n looks like she’s enjoying quadrant

user6 all of the boys brought their significant others except lando and y/n

↳ user7 maybe they brought each other 👀

yourusername

liked by user1, landonorris, and 307,264 others others

yourusername 👩🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻

view all 195 comments

user1 WHAT DOES THIS MEAN

keeganpalmer slay

↳ yourusername slayyy

user2 that’s lando’s hair colour….

↳ user3 and also like half of the population 💀

user4 the one time lando likes but doesn’t comment??

maxfewtrell who could this be?

↳ yourusername i have no idea 🤔

user5 the club photos and now this? the evidence is STACKING against them

yourusername added to their story!

f1gossip

liked by user1, maxfewtrell, and 83,901 others

f1gossip lando norris talking about his new girlfriend in a post race interview at the hungarian grand prix! who could this mystery girl be 👀

view all 134 comments

user1 MY GOOD LUCK CHARM 😭😭

user2 whoever she is, she’s lucky

user3 max what are you doing here?? 🤨

user4 it’s totally y/n, all the signs point to her

user5 he totally let that slip by accident and just went with it 💀

user6 did anyone else see y/n at the mclaren garage?

landonorris

liked by yourusername, maxfewtrell, and 1,024,018 others

landonorris yeah, my baby’s a gold medallist. what about yours?

view all 307 comments

yourusername love you ❤️

yourusername did me dirty on the last picture though

↳ landonorris i love that one 😕

user1 he’s so proud of her 🥺

maxfewtrell there were so many times he almost let it slip

↳ landonorris it was not that many

↳ maxfewtrell mate, i started a counter

↳ landonorris don’t believe this, this is all slander

user2 we all knew it, you weren’t too good at hiding it

user3 we could tell you liked her from the first video

yourusername

liked by landonorris, keeganpalmer, and 381, 064 others

yourusername another prize i get to have 😚

view all 204 comments

landonorris ❤️

user1 she called him a prize 😭😭 she loves him so much

user2 his face in the first one 💀

↳ yourusername it was his reaction to when i asked what he made

keeganpalmer dude i was about to burst i couldn’t keep it a secret anymore

user3 i know they love to mess with everyone

↳ theofficalfng mate they do

maxfewtrell good, now he’ll stop complaining about being single 🙄🙄

user4 maybe she’ll help him get better at gymnastics

↳ user5 i can imagine it 💀 lando would be like “i’m tired” and y/n standing there with a hand on her hip like a mom going ‘really?’ 🤨

↳ yourusername can confirm 😐😐

↳ landonorris all you guys are getting sued for slander

[bluejutdae]

• best friend Stray Kids saving you (or being saved by you) from a bad date | Felix x you

Chan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin | Jisung | Seungmin | Jeongin

genre: romance, best friend to lovers

warnings: none, except that i am not satisfied at all with this but I’ve read it so many times I’m starting to hate it. I might edit heavily later

The moment you park outside the restaurant Lixie is in, you press the call button. Faking an emergency is not too hard, you talk about a friend getting injured and at the hospital, exaggerating your tone and almost making Felix laugh.

He’s out in less than five minutes. Under his bright smile there’s something you can’t decipher. He gets in your car and just his presence makes you happy. Everyone loves Felix, and you’re not immune to his charm either. He’s always kind, generous, sweet and funny. You’re really lucky to have him in your life.

“Ice cream?”

“Yes, please.” It’s so funny to hear his deep voice in such a childish tone.

You don’t press for answers about his date during the drive to your favorite ice cream place, you put on some music and sing loudly with him. Save for that indecipherable look in his eyes, he seems pretty normal.

You take your ice creams and decide to take a walk on the riverside. The wind is pretty chill, but neither of you mind too much. It’s him who brings up the date he was on.

“The date… it was like a blind date. But I didn’t know it was a date until it was too late.”

“Uh- what?” It doesn’t make sense: how did he manage to go on a date without knowing?

“Hannie.” Yeah, maybe it makes sense. Jisung means well, but most of the time the execution is, at best, messy.

“How did he get you?”

“He begged me to go on a double date on the premise it was just because this girl he wanted to go out with was wary of going out alone with him so she’d bring a friend with, but we were supposed to be just wingmen. Or so he told me.”

He licks his ice cream and shakes his head.

“About 10 minutes before we were supposed to meet he called and told me it was a lie and it was a blind date…”

You’re not sure as to what to say. It is very on brand for Jisung, but you can also understand how frustrating it can be for Felix. He’s a sweetheart, he must have felt guilty for having unwillingly misled the girl.

“I couldn’t just leave and stand her up. She knew nothing about the lie, so it wasn't her fault.”

“Was she nice, at least?”

He nods, but he seems almost distracted. “She was nice. Pretty and funny, to be honest.”

“Why didn’t you stay, then?”

He slows down to a stop, and the moment you notice you turn around to look at him, a question on your face. He cleans his mouth with the small napkin and exhales with a small grimace.

“Lix?”

“Because I like you. And I’m not interested in other girls.”

He likes you. Felix likes you. And not in a friendly way. In a like like way. You weren’t expecting that.

“I-“ you start, but you don’t know how to continue that sentence. What do you say to your best friend who just said he likes you? Do you even like him? You’ve always been pretty good at keeping your feelings in check, so after knowing him, when it was clear you were headed towards just being friends, that’s what you set your mind -and your heart- to. He’s your friend, and you didn’t even ever consider more.

“I’m sorry. I’ve kept it from you for a while but I couldn’t anymore. That’s why Jisung insisted on this date. He was trying to distract me.” He turns slightly to watch at the river flowing fast but quietly. “Things don't have to change. If you don’t feel the same it’s okay, but I’d like to stay friends if you’re okay with that. I don’t wanna lose you.”

The idea of Felix losing you is ridiculous to you, nothing is ever gonna make you distance yourself from him. You try to tell him so by hugging him. “Lixie, we’ll always be friends, no matter what.”

You speak into his jacket, and maybe it’s easier this way.

“I thought we were only meant to be friends, so I didn’t even consider looking at you in a different way.” You can feel him tense under your hug. “Wait, wait, listen to me please.” Still hugging him you try to look at him, a smile on your lips. He’s your best friend, he’s the best person you’ve ever met. Being liked by him is an honor, and if you think about it, trying to be something more it’s not something that you hate.

“You’re my best friend, Lix. You know I love you, and I think you’re perfect. I never let myself think about you like that, but I know that if I give it a chance, it’d be so easy to fall in love with you romantically.”

“You don’t have to make yourself like me.”

“Don’t be silly. I’d be lucky to love you. Give me a chance?”

He’s smiling now, and he’s so so pretty like this. He’s always pretty, you tell him constantly, but when he smiles it’s his best look.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure Lixie. Let me take you out on a date? I promise to spoil you…”

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you out?”

“It’s okay. You can ask next time.” You kiss him on his cheek and hold his hand, making him resume your stroll.

He really is easy to love, and not even a month later you ask yourself how you ever managed not to be head over heels in love with your best friend boyfriend.

[holybibly]

Today's unholy thoughts, bunnies 🐰

Let's talk about Seonghwa as a trophy househusband who is neglected both sexually and in terms of love and who is perhaps overly attracted to the best friend of his wife's daughter.

Seonghwa is gentle, sensual, and too needy for the constant praise and adulation he doesn't get. He has big, shining eyes, plump, soft lips, a velvety voice, and a completely unhealthy obsession with the pretty best friend of his 'daughter'. 

He knows it's wrong, or a small part of his knows it, but the way you look at him lovingly and the sweetness of your voice as you praise him, saying what a wonderful househusband he is and how well he keeps such a big house perfectly clean, makes his thoughts go in another direction. 

Seonghwa wants to hear you praise him while his beautiful, gentle face is buried in your little pink pussy and his tongue slides expertly between the soft, moist folds. And Seonghwa knows exactly how pink your cunt is because he has a couple of naughty photos of you that he took while you were sleeping. 

You had a habit of sleeping in nothing but a silk top and panties. The way the thin lace gathered between your labia, giving him a glimpse of your naked, sweet pussy, was too tempting for him to hold back his desires. 

He would never be able to say it openly, but he might have licked you between your legs while you were in Morpheus's sweet embrace, so ready and available for him. And now he can't help but think of how heavenly you taste on his tongue every time he looks at you. 

Seonghwa may only be thinking it, but he feels that you've been staring at him for too long, so he tries to dress as beautifully as possible and as suggestively as possible. 

On purpose, he wears transparent blouses so that you can see his hard, dark pink nipples and trousers that are too tight to show off his long legs and magnificent ass to perfection. He even paints his lips with your favourite gloss and deliberately licks them with his tongue, so you can't take your eyes off him for more than a second. 

He may look a little desperate when he invites you to sit on his lap during a family trip out on the town. Of course, it's all completely unintentional. There are just not enough seats in the car; he doesn't know how to drive; his "daughter" gets sick; and Seonghwa didn't intentionally pack things in the car in such a way that you have nowhere to sit except on his lap.

But most importantly, Seonghwa chooses the track perfectly—twisty, terribly long, with a broken road. And who else but him will hold you tight when the car jumps at the next pit. 

Seonghwa also knows that you hate trousers and shorts, so you always wear those unaffordable short skirts and slutty little thongs that don't stop him from discreetly touching you the way he wants. Maybe he accidentally forgot to button his jeans, or maybe he did it on purpose so that the wet, swollen head of his dick would rub against your tender ass throughout the trip.

Seonghwa is just too sensitive and needy to intentionally drool on your shoulder from this tiny stimulation and moan pitifully into your ear when his cock accidentally slips between your ass cheeks.

He apologises shyly, crumpling a long sweater in his hands, and says that he didn't mean to do it, that it happened by accident, and that he's incredibly ashamed of it. He receives a reply from you: "It's okay, Seonghwa, I understand. It can happen to anyone." 

And the way his name rolls off your tongue makes him come almost immediately without any touching.

It may get painfully icky to feel constantly aroused around you, but he can't help but imagine you riding his cock while his mouth sucks on your pretty tits when he happens to see you masturbating in the bath. 

Oh God, the way your cunt embraces the thick pink dildo, squeezing and stretching around the silicone toy, brings him to his knees. He would give absolutely everything just to fill your cunt with his cock, and he could swear that he would stretch you out much better than that stupid toy. 

Most likely, Seonghwa is going crazy waking up to the ghostly feeling of your lips wrapped around his leaking, throbbing cock because he is sure this will never happen in reality. 

Or maybe you just got tired of his ingratiating wet looks and decided to force him into action by waking him up with a blowjob while your girlfriend and her mother went shopping for breakfast, leaving you alone with the sweet and gentle Seonghwa. 

And the sight of his back arching and his soft, sensual mouth parting with a soft moan as his thick cum pours into your mouth is much sweeter for you than any pancakes for breakfast.

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 10 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: With a little help from his best friend, Bradley rushes to the hospital, panic overtaking his system at the thought of something happening to one of his girls. He was supposed to be the one to take care of you. He felt like he failed.

Warnings: Angst, hospitals, injury while pregnant, potential pregnancy complications, vomit, blood, fluff

Length: 4500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

Bradley felt wrappers and empty bottles crunch under his combat boots as he climbed into the passenger seat and slammed the door shut. Nat had the engine started, and she was tearing through the parking garage without a word. This may have been the first time he didn't have the desire to complain about his best friend's driving or her filthy SUV. He felt too numb to really consider anything except time ticking away on the digital clock on the dashboard.

You were fine this morning. Maybe not great, but you definitely didn't appear as though you were going to collapse at any moment. The only thing Bradley knew was that you passed out in your lab and hit the floor pretty hard. When he begged Nat for more information, she just shrugged, her brow pinched with concern while he cried. At least she wouldn't expect him to say anything at the moment, and she wouldn't even get mad if he threw up like he wanted to.

If anything devastating happened to you or Rosie, he didn't know how he was going to deal with it. He should have been checking on you more often at work. He'd been listening to you telling him you were going to try to eat more even though you weren't feeling well, but he hadn't pressed you to do so.

"Oh, god," he choked out, the afternoon sun and bluebird sky mocking him now as he sobbed into his hands. Nat whipped around a corner, honking at someone, and he didn't really care what happened as long as she got him to you and his daughter as quickly as possible. He had been in the car for six minutes already, winding through Coronado, and he was starting to panic more as he thought about how long you might have been unconscious. Or worse, maybe you were still unconscious now. He couldn't think about anything beyond that, because when he started to slip into that unsettling headspace, he felt his hands shake as bile stung the back of his throat.

"Nat, I can't live without her," he gasped, subconsciously knowing he was talking about both of you. Her hand reached out to squeeze his briefly before returning to the wheel, and he watched as she actually cut around a public transit bus to make a turn.

"We're almost there," she promised, and he nodded as his head tipped back against the headrest. If you and Rosie were okay, he was never going to willingly leave your side again. He'd been worried about someone bumping into you at the fucking Hard Deck, and that was nothing compared to this.

"What am I gonna do?" he whispered, eyes squeezed closed as he ran his sweaty palms along the rough fabric of his flight suit, his breathing starting to get erratic. It was his privilege in life to take care of you. Anything you needed or wanted, he'd hand it to you on a silver platter. But the only thing he needed and wanted was his little family. "Fuck."

"Bradley," Nat snapped, shaking him roughly by his bicep as she careened into the hospital parking lot and made a straight shot for the emergency room entrance. "You need to keep it together. Do you understand?"

"Yeah," he gasped, images far more terrifying than anything he'd ever thought about circling his brain.

"If something happened to the baby, your wife is going to need you to be strong."

Her words left him reeling, because he knew he'd never be as strong as you were. That was part of why he loved you so much. And Rose would be just like you, and he'd have two silver platters ready as soon as she was born. He swallowed hard as her SUV came to a screeching stop in front of a door that said AMBULANCE PARKING ONLY, and he fumbled his seatbelt with shaking fingers before jumping out onto the curb and running inside.

There was an elderly man in a wheelchair and a kid with crutches. Someone with a bloody bandage around their head was moaning in one of the seats, but he didn't see you as he came skidding to a halt in front of the check-in desk. "I need to see my wife. She's pregnant." The last word came out like too much of a question for him to handle, and he had to grip the edge of the desk for support while the woman behind it looked up at him with a neutral expression.

"I'll need to see your identification and get approval before you can go back," she told him smoothly as he yanked his military ID out of the badge holder he was wearing and handed it to her. "What is your wife's name?"

Bradley recited it to her quickly and reverently, watching as she typed away on the keyboard in front of her. "Do you know if she's okay? Can you check if she's alright?" he begged, squeezing her desk again as she slowly shook her head.

"I'm sorry, sir, but all I can see is which room she was taken to and which doctors are working on her case."

"But she's pregnant," he repeated in desperation, hoping that if he said it again, the words would still be true.

"I understand," she said smoothly, handing his ID back to him along with a medical bracelet with the date and time stamped on it. "Put that on your wrist, and have a seat while I see if someone can take you back to her."

Bradley stood there, even more numb to his surroundings than he had been in Nat's car. His ears were ringing, and he had a disturbing metallic taste in his mouth, making it harder and harder to swallow as he swayed on his feet. Based on his extensive military training, he figured he must be going into shock, but he would force himself to remain alert until he saw you for himself. Until he felt his daughter moving.

He could hear the woman pick up the phone and say, "Can someone let me know the visitation status of the patient in room seventeen? Her husband is here." There was a pause before she added, "Yes, I checked him in, and he has a bracelet on." 

But she wasn't paying attention to him, and he was already moving now toward the double doors that said EMERGENCY ROOM ACCESS: STAFF AND PATIENTS ONLY BEYOND THIS POINT WITHOUT ESCORT. He needed to get to you immediately, and everyone else could literally fuck off. He'd take the double doors right off the hinges with his bare hands if necessary. In fact, he would be more than happy to do so. But as he approached them, ready to get through by any means necessary, one door swung open as someone in scrubs strolled through, and he ducked right inside.

Room seventeen. He read the guide on the wall and rushed down the hallway to his right. The thudding of his heartbeat and the sound of his own breathing was almost deafening as he ran. The fluorescent lights were making him dizzy as he read the number on each door. But then he saw it. Room seventeen was straight ahead, and the door was open a few inches, light filling the gap as he started calling your name. He was almost there as the tears started up again, and he was pushing his way into the room as he rasped, "Baby Girl," at the sight of you on the bed.

----------------------------

When you woke up for the third time, you were so dizzy, you turned your head and started to gag. "It's okay," came an unfamiliar voice in the freezing cold room with too bright lights. "I have the garbage can ready for you."

That certainly was convenient. Just when you needed to throw up all of the contents of your stomach, someone was there to help you out. You never had service like that when you were battling morning sickness unless Bradley had been around. You made horrible noises as you heaved, the room still spinning even as you tried to ease yourself onto your back once again. You wanted to say thank you to the unknown voice of the blurry person next to you, but instead you asked, "Where am I?"

"The emergency room at Sharp Coronado Hospital."

That really didn't make any sense. You'd just been at work. Today was your birthday. Bradley was taking you to the hot sauce restaurant for dinner. Then your brain fog began to clear, and you started kicking at the white blanket that was keeping your legs warm in the freezing room. You were in a hospital gown, and when your hands came to rest on your belly, you realized you couldn't feel the baby moving. At all. You shifted your hands around frantically, and while your body was painfully tender, you could feel nothing. No somersaults. No squirms. No kicks. No thumps. Rosie was never this still.

"What happened to my baby?" you asked, voice wrecked with unchecked sobs as the woman beside you set the garbage can down and reached for your shaking hand. "I can't feel her!"

Something caught on the hospital gown, and you realized there were stitches running the length of the side of your swollen left hand. Your rings were missing, which was also scary, but you couldn't think of a single good reason why your daughter wasn't moving around inside your belly when she was always so active. 

You sobbed loudly as the woman with you took your hand in hers, and you realized she was trying to calm you down as all of the equipment you were connected to started going crazy with loud beeps. Your pulse and blood pressure were through the roof and getting worse as she finally said, "The baby is okay, but we can't have you going into shock again. Listen to my voice and take deep breaths."

"Why isn't she moving?" you shrieked, still fighting to keep your hands on your belly.

"Because you're on pain medication," she said, and you finally realized there were two sets of monitoring devices, and the one with the wires that led to the band wrapped around your belly were giving a much calmer readout.

"Is that her heartbeat?" you asked, pointing to the screen that was displaying the pattern you were used to seeing when you were at your appointments with Dr. Morris.

"Yes, the baby is just fine. The obstetrician on rotation checked her out by ultrasound before we even stitched up your hand and wrist. But you need to stay calm while the medication starts wearing off. You've got extensive bruising, and we're still treating you for a possible concussion, but we can't keep you on the painkillers for a prolonged amount of time, okay?"

The words almost made sense, but they just didn't. And you couldn't stay calm, because you wanted Bradley. Hot tears leaked from your eyes as you tried to take a deep breath, but you shook from nerves and cold. Your teeth were suddenly chattering so hard, your jaw felt like it was snapping, and you could have sworn you heard someone calling your name. As the nurse took a step away from you, that voice started to sound louder. You squeezed your eyes closed, trying to collect all of your thoughts, but there was no mistaking your husband's voice.

"Baby Girl!" he called out, eyes frantic and face far too pale as he pushed the door open and rushed to your side. His pupils were blown wide as he reached for you, and when he closed his eyes, you saw a tear streak down his face. He blinked a few times like he couldn't be sure you were real, so you reached for his face. He dropped to his knees next to the bed as he took your hand gently in his. "Are you okay?" came his shaky question, and you tried to nod as your teeth chattered. "Is Rosie okay?" His words were filled with something terribly close to agony, and you started crying harder.

"Yes," you whispered, trying to pull him closer. He would keep you warm and make you feel so much better, but his whole body was wracked with horrible sobs as he scooted closer until his lips were on yours in the gentlest kiss.

"Oh my god," he said, voice breaking as he cried. "Oh my god, Sweetheart. You're both really okay?" You were nodding in a jerky motion as his hand slid down to your belly, and you could have sworn the baby squirmed just for him. "I was fucking terrified out of my mind. I'm so sorry I wasn't with you. I love you."

His lips were kissing along your cheek as he kept his arm wrapped around you like you were capable of getting up and running away at the moment. As if you would even want to. It wasn't his fault this happened. It was an accident. You could remember listening to Bickel talking about your new list of tasks and the borrowed equipment from Lemoore, and then you just hit the ground. It was evident that you weren't doing enough to take care of yourself as it felt like your whole system was changing again in your third trimester. You needed to do better.

"I'm okay," you insisted, running your fingers through his hair. He melted into your touch, his face finally relaxing slightly as the color came back to his cheeks. When the nurse cleared her throat, you realized you forgot she was there.

"Sir, I don't think you're supposed to be in here."

Bradley was shooting her a nasty glare as more members of hospital personnel, including a security guard, walked into your room.

"What did you do?" you whispered as your husband held onto you just as gently as ever, but now he was shaking his head.

"I'm not leaving this room until my wife and daughter do," he told everyone in a loud, commanding voice. "You can be pissed off or whatever that I didn't wait to be escorted in, but I'm not going anywhere."

The security guard looked at the nurse, and she simply shrugged in response, but you stopped paying attention to them when Bradley turned back to look at you, his brown eyes wide and sincere as he said, "I'm here now, and I'm not going to let anything else happen to either of you."

Finally, you were able to warm up in his arms, and you calmed down a little bit more with each subtle squirm you felt from the baby. Bradley was kissing along your fingers, being mindful of your stitches when he froze. "Sweetheart, where are your rings?"

----------------------------

Bradley wished he smelled better and was wearing something softer, but you didn't complain about the faint scent of jet fuel or the scratchiness of his flight suit as he whispered over and over again how much he loved you. He didn't move an inch from his spot on the floor next to the bed as an emergency room doctor came to check you out again followed by an obstetrician.

"You may have preeclampsia, but you'll need a diagnosis from your own doctor based on historical data from your entire pregnancy. It's hard to tell whether all of the excitement from today is responsible for your high blood pressure or if it's the other way around."

"Preeclampsia," Bradley repeated, giving your fingers a little squeeze. "Isn't that dangerous?"

"It can be," you whispered, and the doctor nodded in agreement.

"Bottom line," the doctor said, tapping the line of fluids being pumped into your body, "you were severely dehydrated and seemed to have a reaction to undereating. The stitches in your hand can be monitored from home until you can see your own doctor next week, so we can discharge you tonight. As long as you keep eating and drinking and stay off your feet as much as possible for the next few days. Healthy meals and rest."

"Okay," you whispered, looking so small and sad in the hospital bed that Bradley wanted to protect you at all costs.

"So I can take them home?" he confirmed, wanting nothing more than to get you cleaned up and changed and tucked into the king sized bed with a tray of food. When the doctor nodded, he sighed in relief.

He had been checking his phone sporadically, which finally helped him solve the wedding ring mystery. Cat took them off of you in the ambulance when your fingers started to swell, and she promised she had them with her. He also knew Nat let Tramp out and was ready to stay the night with him if necessary. She even let him know that she dropped his Bronco off in the hospital parking lot with Jake a few hours ago, and that someone was sitting in the waiting room, ready to give him the keys whenever you got discharged. He wasn't sure who it was, but when you were finally discharged and nearly falling asleep at ten o'clock, he was surprised by what he found.

As the nurse pushed you toward the exit in a wheelchair, Nat, Bickel, Cat and Jake all got to their feet in the waiting room. You burst into tears as Jake handed Bradley his car key and knelt down next to you.

"Don't cry, Angel," he drawled softly. "On second thought, maybe you should cry. Even after waking from that concussion, I hate to inform you that you really are married to Bradshaw." He gave your cheek a little kiss as your tears turned to laughter as he stood up again, and Bradley rolled his eyes.

Nat gave Bradley a hug while Cat fussed over putting your rings onto your right hand for the time being. Then Bickel said, "Do not report to work until you've been cleared by your doctors, Lieutenant Commander. I don't care if that's in four days or four months."

You looked worried now as you ran your fingers along your stitches. "Sir. Did I... break the lab equipment when I fell?" you whispered, and even Bradley could tell by Bickel's face that you probably did. "I didn't mean to."

But there was a reason you liked your boss so much, and you visibly relaxed in the wheelchair as Bickel said, "I'm worried about you, not the equipment, Lieutenant Commander. I'll check in with you on Monday."

When Bradley was finally helping you into the Bronco, you had tears in your eyes, but you looked a lot more relaxed than you had earlier. "I'm so tired, Roo," you whispered as he buckled you and Rosie in with a kiss to your belly.

"I know," he replied, pretty exhausted himself. "I'll take care of everything, okay? I'm just sorry you're not having a better time on your birthday."

When you looked at him and softly said, "It's much better now," he swiped at the tears on your cheeks with his thumbs. "I'm sorry I scared you, and I'll be better about eating, okay? And if I have preeclampsia, I'll make sure Rosie is my number one priority every day, even if I feel awful from forcing nutrients into my body."

Bradley smiled and said, "I just wish I'd been able to take you to Del Mar tonight so you could enjoy some hot sauce." Just then, his phone started ringing in his pocket, and he thought perhaps it was your parents; they'd been biting at the bit for more information after he texted them throughout the day.

"Who is it?" you asked, and he sighed as he checked the number.

"It's the bar I reserved for the evening," he replied, ignoring the call until he got you home.

"Bar? For what?"

He kissed away the rest of your tears and murmured, "Our private silent disco. That's what I got you for your birthday."

You gasped and pulled him close, and even as you cried more, you said, "You're the best husband who ever existed. And I ruined my own night and scared us both half to death."

"Shhh," he coaxed. "We can go a different time. As long as my girls are okay, nothing else really matters. Now can I take you home for a slice of birthday cake and get you snuggled in bed?"

"Yes," you sniffed. 

Not even fifteen minutes later, you were standing in the kitchen in your bra and underwear, eating a slice of the cake that said 'Happy Birthday, Baby Girl' which he'd hidden behind a bunch of things in the refrigerator since yesterday. Per the doctor's instructions, he made sure you had plenty of water to drink before he got you in a warm bath and helped you wash yourself.

"Come in," you said softly, stifling a yawn. "I didn't get to do any of the other stuff you planned for my birthday, but I want you in here with me."

With a deep, exhausted sigh, he unzipped his flight suit, your eyes glued to his every movement. His body was aching now from the rush of terrified adrenaline earlier and how much he'd worried about you since arriving at the hospital. He held your left hand above the water and slipped into the tub behind you, his body automatically relaxing as you eased back against him. Then he placed your hand on the edge of the tub to keep your stitches dry, and he held you as he whispered, "I love you," before setting his hand on your belly.

Finally, your heart rate felt normal again, and as the water got cooler, he could tell you were starting to doze off in his arms. He whispered the birthday song, and a smile crept along your lips even though your eyes were closed, and eventually he had to coax you out of the bath and into bed.

Just as your birthday officially ended, you were laying on your side snoring softly, and Bradley kissed your shoulder before he reached for the blue and pink striped notebook and a pen from his nightstand. While he was pleased you were able to fall asleep, he knew he'd be up for quite a while still, processing everything that had happened. The terrible thought of losing you and the baby left him with the realization that he didn't know if he'd actually be able to cope with something like that happening. It made his skin crawl all over again, but he knew he had to process it somewhere.

Hey, Rosie. You'll learn pretty quickly why I love Mommy's birthday so much. Actually, you'll learn pretty quickly that I try to make every day special for her. It's because she makes everything better for me just by being around. Her smile can make the worst day incredible, and her laughter makes me feel like I'm falling in love with her all over again. But today was her birthday, and it was one of the worst days of my life. I was scared that I was going to lose something that could never be replaced. Something I can't live without. I would do anything for you, Rosie. And I would do anything for your mom.

--------------------------------

When you first woke up on Saturday, your entire body was aching from your fall. For a second, you swore you could hear Bradley and Phoenix talking in the other room, but when you rolled onto your other side with Rose thumping around, you fell asleep again before you could investigate. When you woke up for the second time, you were absolutely certain you could hear Bradley talking to your mom.

You pulled on a random pair of sweatpants and a stretchy maternity tank top, making a stop in the bathroom before heading down the hallway. When you peeked into the kitchen, Bradley had the iPad propped up on the counter, and he had your cutting boards and cookware out as your mom chatted away.

"You have to peel the carrots just like you would a potato, and then you can cut them into pieces about this big."

"Right," he replied, slowly peeling the orange vegetable in this hand and then slicing it while your mom watched. "Should I put it in the chicken broth?"

"Not yet," she instructed. "Wait until you're ready to add the celery and put them in at the same time. And it never hurts to add a few extra carrots."

"Got it," he told her, setting aside three more carrots on the counter. "And tomorrow morning you'll help me with the chicken pot pie again?"

"Of course I will," she promised. "And I'll show you how to make tomato sauce when you're ready."

"Thanks." He wiped his brow with a dishtowel, voice thick with emotion as he said, "She scared me half to death yesterday. I need to make sure she's eating and drinking enough. When Natasha went grocery shopping for me earlier, I had her get these hydration packs that you can add to water along with cases of Gatorade. So those should be good.  And if you help me cook every day, I'm hoping she can start to stomach food again."

"It sounds like you have everything under control, but if you want me to fly out, I can be there tomorrow."

Bradley wavered for a few seconds, but ultimately said, "I can handle it with your help over FaceTime. I'll take care of my girls."

"I have all the confidence in the world that you will," your mom told him. "Call this afternoon when she's awake, okay?"

A few seconds later, after he ended the call, you walked all the way into the kitchen while he was filling the crockpot with chicken broth. "Are you making me soup?"

"Sweetheart." He sloshed some of the liquid onto the counter in surprise and then pulled you into his arms. Your stomach was growling, and Rosie was doing somersaults, and you could see the playset in the backyard through the window. "Yeah, chicken noodle soup for dinner, but I can get something else for you now."

You couldn't stop smiling as he listed off all of the food options for breakfast and lunch. "My mom was right. I also have all of the confidence in the world that you'll take top notch care of us."

"You heard my conversation with her?" he asked, running his thumb gently along the skin next to your stitches as you nodded. "Listen, if your parents move to Coronado, I can get my culinary lessons in person. And then I'll have two more people to help me look after you, because to be honest, it's getting harder by the day, Baby Girl. Now how about some avocado toast and a small slice of birthday cake for breakfast?"

----------------------------

Take care of your girls, Roo. They mean more to you than anything else. His journal entry made me cry. Rose is already so loved, and I can't wait for her arrival. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 11

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[taesanluv3r]

youthful rebellion

han taesan x reader

reader and secret bf!taesan rebel against their strict parents :3 inspired by the dangerous mv! stealing a car, driving without a license, making-out (sort of, it's implied) gets pretty silly at the end...as expected from a fic by me LMAO lowercase intended. pls excuse any grammatical mistakes or spelling errors! enjoyyyy

wc: 2,279

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"wanna do something crazy?"

han taesan and yn ln. two chaotic teens tied by the ropes of their suburban neighbourhood. born to be living and loving their youth- staying out till sunrise with their best-friends, going to parties and getting shit-faced- but forced to be home by their early curfews set by their strictly rule-driven parents. the list of dos and don'ts go beyond anyone's field of vision.

DO: study hard, get good grades, eat healthy foods and sleep early. DON'T: date, sleep around, drink, get home after 8pm...and definitely DO NOT even think about stealing your parents' car.

"depends what 'crazy' is..." yn replies to the boy on the other line of the phone-call. it was almost midnight, all the lights in the neighbourhood had been turned off and everyone was asleep. well, everyone except the two teenagers who, unlike everyone else, refused to retire into their beds. "like...sneak out and steal a car kind of crazy?" taesan's rebellious suggestion shocks her, a silent gasp escaping her mouth. she can hear him laugh, "what? too risky?"

yn moves from her bed to sit on her desk in front of her window. the window that was directly adjacent to his own one. "open your curtain, i wanna see you" she whispers, just in case her parents weren't as deaf as she thought. "mhm" taesan responds quickly before his face comes into view from the house across hers.

they share a smile, stupidly waving at each other. yn blushes when the boy blows her a flying kiss- something both their parents would yell at them for...but mom and dad never had to know, they could go about their secret relationship the way they have been for the past few months since they started dating. behind their backs, staying on the phone all night, and communicating from the window. they don't mind it in the slightest- i mean, how else were they supposed to do it? if they were out together in the day, it'd only be a matter of time before their strict parents figured it out and forbid them from ever seeing each other again. the pair won't lie though, sometimes they wish they could just...rebel.

"what's a pretty girl like you thinking so hard about right now, hm?'' yn could see his mouth move, but the sound only came from out her phone's speaker. "um...nothing" but taesan doesn't believe her for a second. "you can't seriously be considering the sneaking out thing i was talking about...can you?" she doesn't even need to answer. in fact, the fact that she didn't was proof alone that she was indeed thinking about it. the girl looks up to see her boyfriend, only to find him shuffling around his bedroom. her eyebrows furrowed, "what're you doing?" it's silent for a second, but she can see him throw on his sweater.

"come meet me by my garage, we'll take my dad's car"

the girl can't believe her ears, too stunned that she had accidentally zoned out for a moment, only to regain consciousness when she caught a glimpse of the boy waving his hand around at her from his window. "hello? darling, if you're not up for it we don't have-" he was cut off, "no! meet you in 5?" his toothy grin shined brightly, her own one just as pearly white.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

it didn't take long for yn to successfully sneak out of her house. she had taken out the battery on the automatic lock about a year ago without her parents knowing, and as it turned out they were much deeper sleepers than she had thought. if she had known sneaking out were this easy, she probably would've done it way before this.

according to plan, the girl quietly walks over to the neighbouring home. she waits by the opened garage, the lights were still off and there was no sign of her boyfriend. 'hope he didn't get caught...' just as the thought crossed her mind, the squeak of a door, followed by soft footsteps enter her ears- and before long, appears her tall and pale, handsome boyfriend.

"hey" he says excitedly, though his voice is hushed and his breathing was heavy. "hi" she mumbles when he engulfs her into his arms. "sorry i took so long, my dad kept the keys on his bed-side table and i had to tip-toe around him...think his snores were loud enough to drown out the noise though" he laughs coming to the end of the sentence, as does she. "c'mon, we better go before it's too late"

as quiet as humanly possible, the pair made it into the car without creating a ruckus. "damn...okay" yn sighs, letting out the breath she didn't even know she was holding. "right...so..." it was silent all of a sudden, the teens staring blankly at the dashboard in front of them. taesan in the driver's seat just as clueless as yn in the passenger's. "so like...are you gonna drive or...?" the girl asks, her gaze moving from the inert wheel to the boy who had his hands wrapped around it. "um...well, i don't really have a license...but...it shouldn't be that hard right?"

normally, the girl would freak out and maybe start a fight but, for whatever reason, all she could bring herself to do right now was...laugh. he did as well, their hysterics muted by the walls of the car, hiding them from the ears of the neighbourhood. "i believe in you" yn says, pressing a motivational kiss to his cheek. taesan finds it ticklish, scrunching his nose at the feeling. "alright..." he begins, sticking in the key to start the car. the engine makes a roaring sound that the pair swears the whole world could probably hear. it gets their hearts racing, the adrenaline rush finally kicking in. "you ready?" he asks, looking for one last bit of reassurance from his girlfriend and his foot over the pedal as he adjusts his posture. she nods at him,

"let's get outta here"

with that, the boy begins to drive, silently making their way out of the garage and onto the road, headed out to the main street. he gets the hang of the steering wheel rather quickly, all their doubts and worries flying straight out the window as they accelerated out of their sleepy neighbourhood.

"oh my god...can't believe we did that" taesan says, looking back at the houses that got smaller and smaller behind them. yn laughs, "eyes on the road, babe" she reminds him, beginning to snoop through the glove compartment for something to put into the CD slot of the radio. "mj...more mj...nirvana...and...'dangerous youth'? what's that?" his girlfriend's question grabs taesan's attention as the car came to a halt at a red-light. "let me see" he says, grabbing the unfamiliar disc from her. "looks like one of my dad's old mixtapes...looks older than me!" the boy hands the thing back over to the girl, moving the car from parking mode as the light turned green.

"should we put it on?"

it takes a minute for the radio to read the disc, a slight buzzing sound entering their ears at it spun within the machine. it's silent for a moment, the orange-ish light of the music-player blinking the words: track 01. a sense of familiarity hit their spines as the first beat of the song played, followed by infamous lyrics that just about anyone could recognize.

'we don't need no education...'

"oh, pink floyd!" as expected from the boy's music-loving father, the band's hit song of the late 70s, Another Brick in the Wall, Part 2. the rebellious teens bounced their heads to an anthem that fit all too well with their actions right now, the boy's fingers tapping against the wheel and the girl playing an imaginary set of drums while they sang along to the tune.

"hey teacher! leave them kids alone!"

the pair drove for about an hour, not a clue where they were even headed. "there's a cliff around the edge of the street, wanna stop there?" taesan asked, turning to look at yn who was staring out the window. "mhm, we could watch the sunrise"

before long they had arrived by the cliff. the car parked beside the road, and the two of them sitting right beside each other on a small patch of grass. it was well into one o' clock in the morning at that point, the skies still dark and the stars bright as ever, decorating the space around the moon.

"the moon is so pretty, isn't it?" yn says, suddenly moved by the atmosphere. it was quiet and cold outside, the only other sound apart from the pair that stayed awake, was the wispy winds against the crispy leaves. "and it'll never lose it's beauty" her eyes turn away from the shining orb of light and over to his, who had been looking at her the whole time. their breaths are heavy, the beating of their hearts loud enough for the both of them to hear. "yn...can i kiss you?" his simple inquiry of consent was enough to melt all her insides. she looks at him with eyes that shined just as the moon did.

"please"

taesan wasted no time in pulling her close. her hands in his hair as his own travelled down to her waist. their lips found place in each other's just as quickly, leaving no room for air as their tongues danced a pas de deux within the caves of their mouths. yn tumbles forward, pushing his body down onto the grass, never separating from each other, like they've been starved for years before this.

"yn..." he says, his mouth free to speak when she moves over to his neck. the girl stops for a moment, sitting up straight to look him in the eyes again. the boy's mouth opens to continue, "i love you" she smiles, pulling him close again. "i..." she breathes heavily, kissing him more, "love..." their noses hit each other, and the thin hairs on their bodies create fiction; a ticklish feeling rumbling up in her belly.

"...love you too"

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"you think they've noticed we're gone by now?" yn asks, fingers swirling around atop his abdomen, her head on his chest as they laid on the grass. "probably" taesan replies, yawning softly as his hands run through his girlfriend's hair. "think they'll never let us see each other again?" this time he giggles, the vibrations of which go straight to the side of her face. "totally"

yn pouts as she sits up, looking down at the smiling boy with a look of sadness. "aw, baby..." he teases, grabbing her hand to pull her back down towards him. "if they do that to us we'll just have to sneak out again, right?" she sighs, "i guess so...'' the couple falls silent as the pale sky turns orange. the bright sun began to rise, signaling the pair that just as the traces of last night started to disappear, so must their youthful rebellion.

"c'mon" the boy says, helping the girl up. the teens entered the car, a deja-vu sort of feeling coursing through their veins as memories of their midnight adventures flashed over their brains. yn yawns this time, reaching forward to grab her phone from the compartment below the radio. "ah!" she winces when the brightness of the screen shocks her sensitive eyes, taesan laughs at her before reaching for his own phone.

"yikes...thirty missed calls and a hundred and two messages..." she sighs, scrolling through the thousands of notifications from her parents last night. the boy beside her scoffs, "only thirty?" he asked exaggeratedly, earning a worried look in return. "try sixty missed calls and two hundred texts...!"

the couple shares a fit of laughter as they came up with about a million different scenarios for their parents' reaction to them returning home. "no, no! my mom would definitely cry!" she'd say, and he'd shake his head. "not as badly as my dad would!"

han taesan and yn ln quieted down, staring out the main window of the vehicle. "think we'll be grounded?" he asked, as if it weren't obvious. "probably" she replied. the pair turned to face each other, identical smiles placed against their lips. the girl leaned in, pulling him by the collar of his sweater to kiss him- and they continued to kiss for another fifteen or so minutes, until they both desperately needed to breathe again. she giggled, as did he, looking at each other happily as they spoke the same two words.

"worth it"

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"you know, i thought when they said 'you two will pay for this!' they meant something a lot worse..." yn said, squeezing out the excess soap from her sponge. "yeah...thought they were gonna cage us in our rooms for the rest of our lives and board up our windows or something...but this? this isn't bad at all!" taesan follows, wiping a bit of sweat that dripped down his face. "in fact..." he says, moving to wrap his arms around the girl. "i quite like washing cars with you"

she giggles at his words, closing her eyes when he presses a kiss to her nose. "i quite like it too..." this time they kissed on the lips, the sponges dropped onto the floor, not at all phased by the foam-y soap that got all over their clothes.

"HEY! I SAID CLEAN THE CAR NOT KISS! THAT'S RIGHT, GET BACK TO WORK!" the boy's dad yells from the front door of their home, shocking the teens for a second before they broke out into laughter.

"tsk...those blasted kids"

the end.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

AHHH dangerous is so so good and i love tht mv so so much :3!!! also i actually asked my dad on advice for song choices for tht part when they discover ts' dad's mixtape LMAOO he suggested pink floyd's song and then added tht if it were HIM stealing a car w his gf as a teen it'd be 21+ love songs 😭😭 dad PLS! anyways hope u enjoyed!! reblogs n feedback r so appreciated <3 love, kona.

[racetowrite]

On a hurry

Support a disabled creator

Pairing : Carlos Sainz x f!reader

Tags : yeah that's right I have an addiction for Carlitos , afab!fem!reader, oral and fingering (f!recieving), unprotected piv (wrap it irl I am begging you)

Word Count : 1.3k

Carlos loves to take you dancing. There’s nothing in this world quite like seeing the excitement in your eyes when he tells you to wear your best dress, that he’s taking you out of the town to dance the night away until your cheeks are red and your feet ache. There’s nothing quite like your laughter as he spins you around before dipping you to the floor, your nails digging into his back, even though you know he’d never drop you. His alters definitely aren’t ones for dancing, but Carlos would dance with you every night if he could.

He loves going dancing with you, truly, but the best part of the night is always the end. Pressing you against his chest, gripping your hips and grinding your pretty ass against him, tucking his face in the crook of your neck to suck tiny bruises into your skin. He loves feeling you shiver against his front while he whispers everything he wants to do to you in your ear. Telling you how sexy you are in your pretty dress, how he wants your heels to stay on while he fucks you when you both get home. You’re soaked in your panties, and Carlos knows it.

“Are you going to let me take you home, amor?” he whispers, as if he even has to ask. As if you both weren’t going back to sleep in the same bed anyway. As if you’d ever refuse him.

You moan softly and nod, and you feel Carlos’s smug smile against your sweaty skin, before he’s wrapping a strong arm around your waist and leading you to the door. He opens the door to his Ferrari for you, helping you into the passenger seat. Ever the gentleman.

Your apartment, one you had received as a gift from Carlos, sits just a little outside the city of Madrid. Quieter, neighbors less nosy, less street vendors lingering outside the door. You love your home, except on nights like these, where you just need one of your boyfriend inside you as soon as possible. You settle in for the thirty minute drive, trying not to think about the aching between your thighs, but Carlos is ravenous. He settles a calloused hand against your thigh, running it just under your dress. You spread your thighs slowly, trying to be subtle. But Carlos notices. He always does.

“You want me to touch you, princesa?” Carlos says, chucking slightly, the smug bastard that he is.

“You know I do,” you whine, half annoyed and half absolutely desperate. Carlos reaches just a little farther lower, running a finger over the thin material of your panties, feeling how you’ve soaked through the lace. Your hips buck when he presses a harsh finger to your clit, a choked gasp escaping your throat.

“Dios, baby,” Carlos grunts, the hand he has on the steering wheel tightening until his knuckles are white. “That needy, huh?”

“Always,” you sigh, “Always for you.” You watch Carlos’s jaw clench, and nearly cry when he takes his hand away from your clothed pussy.

“Take your panties off and spread your legs,” he grunts, leaving no room for argument. You lift your hips off the leather seat to drag your panties off your legs, toeing your heels off to take them all of the way off. You glance at Carlos, his eyes still trained on the road ahead, and, perhaps against your better judgment, drape your panties across his lap.

“Amor,” Carlos mutters through clenched teeth. “Mierda, I will pull this car over, I swear to God.”

“What’s stopping you, baby?” you ask sweetly, taunting him, goading him.

“Because I’m going to fuck you so hard you pass out, and I’m not carrying your fucked-out body up the stairs to our apartment.” He speaks like he’s threatening you, as if your cunt isn’t clenching around the suddenly unbearable emptiness inside you.

He slides his hand back over your thigh, calloused fingers finally connecting with your hot pussy. He slides a quick finger inside of you, crooking it hard until you’re gasping out a choked little moan. The palm of his hand grinds against your sensitive clit, and your hand flies up to grab at his wrist.

“Carlos, fuck, oh Jesus,” you stutter over your words, unable to from a sentence at the sudden intrusion. Carlos ignores you, sliding a second finger deep into you, right alongside the first. His fingers are thick, far thicker than yours, stretching you out. You can feel the sticky juices of your cunt dripping down, down onto the once-pristine leather of the seat. Your thighs are trembling, bucking into Carlos’s hand. You gaze up at your boyfriend through glassy eyes, greeted with the sight of his strong jaw illuminated by the streetlights through the window.

His eyes are trained unwaveringly on the road, and he looks almost unaffected by what he’s doing to you. Almost. But you notice the clench in his jaw, and with a quick once-over of his body, drawn tight with tension, the thick bulge in his slacks.

You reach a hand over to palm at him, but his gruff voice stops you. “If you fucking touch me right now, princesa, you won’t cum for a fucking week.” Your hand snaps away immediately.

“Good girl, hermosa,” he mutters. You want to scream as he plays with the spongy spot inside your pussy. “Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to stretch you out on my fingers, and get you ready for my cock. You’re going to fucking take it, alright? You’re going to cum all over my fingers, and then, when you’re done, I’ll take you inside and fuck this pretty pussy. Am I clear?”

You nod, but Carlos isn’t looking. You murmur out a soft, “yes,” and Carlos grins. You barely have a moment to think before he’s jamming a third finger inside you and begins to hammer them into your pussy, harsh and unrelenting. He fucks you deep on his fingers, his palm continuing to press into your clit. Your thighs are shaking, hips twitching like you can’t decide if you’re trying to get away or get closer to Carlos’s unrelenting thrusts.

You’re whining needily, and Carlos’s gruff voice fills the car, unable to hold his words back when he’s got you at his mercy like this. 

“You’re so pretty, amor. Can’t wait to get you on my cock when we get home. You’re gonna be all stretched out, bebita, this sweet pussy is just gonna let me sink right in, yeah?”

“I want you to cum all over my fingers. Wanna feel this pretty pussy clench just like you’re going to clench around my cock later.”

Carlos jams his fingers into you again, and it doesn’t take long at all before you’re throwing your head back against the headrest, gasping out a high-pitched moan, nearly inaudible.

“That’s it, princesa. So fucking pretty when you cum,” Carlos murmurs, tearing his eyes from the road to look at you as you writhe in your seat, your pretty tits pushed out as your back arches. He stops thrusting his fingers, waiting for you to finish clenching around them.

As your body finally settles, he slips his hand from between your thighs, bringing his sticky fingers to his face. You watch, mouth agape, as Carlos licks his fingers clean of your slick, his eyes back to being trained on the road.

“You always taste so sweet for me, hermosa. This is better than any race win” he murmurs, and you whine all over again, your shaky thighs snapping shut.

“What?” he asks, chuckling darkly, “too much already? C’mon, mi vida, you know that the night is far from over.” 

Your eyes widen as the car slows to a stop, right outside your apartment building. Fuck.

[briefinquiries]

Luke Alvez x Reader: Promise You'll Call

Prompt: hi first i just want to say i love you writing so much. Do you think you could write something where luke finds out the reader’s significant other is harming them (mentally or physically)? I understand this is a rough topic but i was just going through a hard time with flashbacks. I understand if you can’t, thank you!

Word count: 7k (idk how this got to be so long)

Warnings: DV mention (in detail), blood tw

A/N: ayyyyooo, it's been forever since i've posted, but enjoy! i wanted to post, so i haven't proof read yet, so please excuse any grammatical mistakes, I'll go back and fix tomorrow :)

Luke honestly didn’t mean to eavesdrop. It just so happened that he was still in his truck, finishing up the burnt bagel he’d made in a rush this morning when you pulled into the parking garage. At first, Luke didn’t recognize that it was you in the black BMW that stopped in the middle of the garage, right behind his own truck. But when he peeked through his rearview mirror, he saw you sitting in the passenger seat, tucking a curtain of hair behind your ear. 

Luke’s stomach flipped, the same way it did every time he saw you. 

Except this time, he actually felt guilty for it, because he was pretty sure the guy driving the car was your boyfriend. Luke was new to the team in the last year, and while he’d done a pretty good job getting to know everyone at the BAU, he still hadn’t met partners or family yet. You were one of the few agents who never talked about your personal life at work. 

But even though Luke couldn’t see the man driving the car, as soon as you cracked open the passenger side door, he certainly heard him. 

Was it even considered eavesdropping if the entire parking garage could hear? 

“I’m not done talking!” The man’s voice echoed across the entire garage, causing Luke to straighten in his seat.  

“Will you lower your voice?” You snapped back in a hushed tone, before looking around the space, clearly embarrassed. 

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do!”

“The whole city is going to hear you, Justin, please.”

“I don’t care if they do– get back in the fucking car!”

Something in Luke’s chest began boiling at the sound of his tone. Did he always speak to you that way? He fought back the urge to peel himself out of his truck. You were his coworker– not his girlfriend. It wasn’t his place to knock this guy down a few pegs, no matter how badly he wanted to. 

“I have nothing else to say to you right now–”

“Good, don’t talk. Fucking listen for once in your life!”

“You’re being ridiculous,” you said, voice eerily calm. It was like you were almost used to this kind of fighting– like you knew the exact steps to take to attempt de-escalating him. “I have to get to work. We’ll talk about this later.”

“If you shut that fucking door, you’re walking home. I swear to–” but the man’s voice was abruptly cut off by you shutting the door. 

Luke secretly felt proud as he watched you turn and walk away from the BMW without looking back. 

Suddenly, music blared through the speakers of the car before Luke heard tires squealing while the car drove away. Luke remained in place while he heard your footsteps fade into the distance, not wanting to embarrass you further or let you know he’d been heard the entire conversation that just played out. 

But while he gave you a moment to catch the elevator without him, Luke didn’t like the feeling that settled in his stomach. If your boyfriend acted like that in the middle of the bureaus parking garage, what the hell was he like behind closed doors?

…

You fought back tears for the entire elevator ride. Thank God no one got into the lift with you, so you at least had a moment of peace before having to pull everything together. 

Justin woke up mad– again. That had been a regular occurrence for the last year. And for the last month, he’d been convinced you were cheating on him. With zero evidence aside from a “hunch” he was apparently going on, there was no amount of convincing or location sharing or reminding him that your job came with sporadic hours that would change his mind. And things were getting worse. Each day it felt like he was angrier– more out of control. And each day you told yourself that you could handle it. You were literally trained on how to de-escalate murderers, for God’s sake. But this morning, when you woke up to not one, but four flat tires on the car you parked in the garage, you knew things were escalating again. 

As the elevator climbed, your phone suddenly pinged in your pocket. You pulled it out to read the text back from your mother. You’d reached out to her earlier, letting her know what you’d suspected– that Justin had slashed your tires so that you couldn’t take your own car to work. 

Mom: He wouldn’t do that. I know you are going through a rough patch, but Justin’s a good man. Did you reach out to that couple’s therapist I told you about?

You let out a sigh. 

Typical. 

Justin had worked at the local hospital with your father before he retired. As a world-wide renowned cardiovascular surgeon with a strong handshake and charismatic demeanor, he could do no wrong in your parent’s eyes. 

In the few instances you actually had reached out to them for support in the last year, the burden always fell back on you. What had you done to piss him off? What were you doing to mitigate the situation? You should have learned by now not to reach out to either one of them. You wouldn’t get the response you wanted. 

The elevator slowly climbed and you knew you had to pull it together. Deep breath in, deep breath out. You reached the fifth floor and stepped out of the elevator, trying to forget about everything that had just happened. 

Within an hour, a new case rolled in. You sat around the round table and listened to Emily give the rundown while Garcia clicked through slides of gruesome crime scenes she blatantly refused to even glimpse at . You tried to pay attention– to compartmentalize your home life like you had always been so good at doing. But as soon as you heard that the case was in Idaho– across the country, worry began creeping back inside of you. One of the biggest problems that Justin had was your constant travel for work. Although he was allowed to put in consistent, 16-hour days at the hospital, he got upset every time you told him where your next case was.

Which, honestly, you understood. When you took the job with the BAU, you never expected to have much of a life outside of it. You were gone more than you were home, and you knew that sort of lifestyle wasn’t for everyone. Except when you met him, Justin had known what you did for work. You didn’t lie or keep it a secret. He said he was okay with the traveling and the long hours. Until he wasn’t. 

Suddenly, there was a gentle tap on your shoulder. Every thought racing through your mind blew away and you refocused on the present moment. 

“Everything okay?” It was Luke asking. 

You looked around to realize that everyone else was packing up their belongings to board the jet. Turning to face Luke, you nodded. “Yeah, sorry. Just daydreaming, I guess.”

“Daydreaming with those crime scenes in the background?” he asked, nodding towards the gruesome picture still up on the screen. “You’ll have to teach me how to do that.”

You let out a breath of laughter. Luke hadn’t been on the team for long, but you realized within a few weeks of knowing him that he always knew how to make people laugh– no matter what was going on in the world around you. That was one of the many reasons he fit in so effortlessly with the team. 

“We can do a mindfulness class sometime,” you joked. 

He smiled, dimples popping from his dark, smooth skin. “I’d attend consistently.” 

Something fluttered in your stomach.

You just chalked it up to stress and nerves. 

…

Luke was supposed to be reviewing the case on the flight. Instead, he couldn’t stop watching you. Out of all the open seats, you chose one right across from him. You had the file open on your lap while your eyes scanned the page. Luke could tell you weren’t reading either, though, because the jet had already been airborne for almost half an hour and you hadn’t flipped the page. 

Meanwhile, Reid, who was to Luke’s right, had already read the entire file, front to back, probably three times by now. 

“Can you give me the Sparknotes version?” Luke leaned over and asked him.  

“What’s Sparknotes?” Reid asked, no hint of humor in his voice. 

Luke’s jaw fell open. “Aren’t you supposed to be a genius or something?”

“I don’t really think that intelligence can be measured or quantified in the way humans have tried to in the past. Technically I have an eidetic memory, which allows me to recall information with accurate precision. Meaning I’d actually have to see the information once to be able to recall it. I’ve never seen a Sparknote… or whatever you called it.”

A smirk spread across your lips, your eyes darting up to meet Luke’s. 

Luke shook his head in disbelief, offering you a small smile before turning back to Spencer. He’d been with the team nearly a year now and he still hadn’t gotten used to Reid’s demeanor. He wondered if he ever would. 

“You never had to Google the summary of a book when you were younger?”

Reid gave Luke a perplexed look. “Why would I do that if I have the book in front of me?”

“Because it’s faster.”

“I can read–”

“20 thousand words a minute,” Rossi interrupted as he walked by with an empty cup of coffee. “Yeah, we know, kid.”

He placed a free hand on Luke’s shoulder, patting it gently. “I have no idea what prompted this conversation, but trust me when I say it’s not worth it.”

Luke heard you stifle a laugh as Rossi walked past. 

…

You’d been on edge the entire plane ride. Justin never responded to your message, letting him know you’d be away for at least the next couple of days on a case. Maybe he was in the OR today, or maybe the hospital’s cell service was just spotty. 

Or maybe he really was just that mad at you. 

You knew the way he treated you was wrong. You recognized the red flags that had been staring you right in the face. But slashing your tires? Maybe your mom was right– maybe there was another explanation. Because no matter how much he yelled, or got in your face, or tried to intimidate you, you really didn’t think there was any way he could do that. 

You hated being this distracted while you worked. Emily was having to repeat instructions for you, JJ was throwing you worried glances, Spencer had asked three times now if you were okay… It was like you were the one being profiled in Idaho. 

Of course that wasn’t really the case, though. You were in Sun Valley because of a string of murdered women, each left dumped and discarded in ditches off the parkway. Each with ligature markings around their necks. Each with evidence of sexual assault. And each deserving of your undivided attention. 

You tried your best to give it to them. But in reality, when the case finally wrapped up six days after you’d arrived, you knew that everyone had picked up your slack. 

And while you were grateful to be part of a team that could pick up the slack of others, you hated that you had to utilize it. 

‘Unbelievable.’

That had been the only message you received from Justin the entire week you were away. You sent a practical novel back– trying to apologize and explain your side. Then you tried calling at least twice a day. But each time you went straight to his voicemail. Normally, space wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Except the jet was about to land back at Quantico, and you were terrified of what was next. 

Not to mention you had no ride home. 

“Hey,” a soothing voice suddenly said, stirring you from your thoughts. 

When you glanced up, you saw Luke gesturing towards the open seat across from you. 

“You mind? Everyone else is asleep.”

For a moment, you looked around the jet and noticed that Luke was right. Practically everyone was sprawled out or curled up against a window, passed out. You couldn’t blame them. It had been a rough case. If circumstances were different and you weren’t currently overthinking everything in your life, you’d probably be passed out too. 

Eventually you turned back to Luke and nodded. “You couldn't sleep?” You asked him. 

He shook his head. “Nah. I never sleep on planes. I think it’s a control-thing. I can never calm myself down enough to actually sleep.”

You frowned. “Now that you say that, I’ve never actually seen you sleep on the jet.”

“And you probably never will.” 

You grinned back. “Does that mean I’ll never get to know if Luke Alvez snores?”

“I’m afraid that information is classified,” he smirked. 

“Such a tease.”

Luke let out a low chuckle before casually leaning forward in his seat. “I did want to see if everything was okay, though.”

“What do you mean?” You asked, probably sounding too defensive. 

He shrugged. “I mean you just didn’t seem yourself this week. Not in a bad way or anything– just off.”

Shit. You knew it had been noticeable. But even still, the small part of you that was hoping it wasn’t deflated at Luke’s words. You actually debated telling him everything, which was so out of the norm for you lately. Ever since you and Justin had been having problems, you’d turned into a shell of who you used to be– you never hung out with Penn, Emily, or JJ anymore. You never had time for getting your ass kicked at chess on the jet with Reid, because you were too busy worrying if Justin was mad at you for leaving. You never joined everyone at Rossi’s evening dinners because you felt guilty for spending nights that you were home away from the house and Justin would never go with you. 

Suddenly, the harsh reality slapped you right in the face: You didn’t like who you were becoming. You didn’t like who you were when you were with Justin. The thought made you want to curl up and hide from the world– from Luke. But there was something about the way he looked at you– so earnest and intentional, like he was hanging onto every word, like he actually wanted to be someone you could trust, that felt prevented you from doing so. 

“You’re chewing on your lip,” Luke pointed out. “That’s how I always know when you’re overthinking.”

You relaxed your jaw instantly. That’s how he always knew? How often was Luke paying attention to your moods and mannerisms? The thought made something flutter in your stomach, but not in the anxious way it had been fluttering recently. This was softer– less scary. 

“Stupid profilers,” you muttered under your breath, desperate to break through whatever tension was boiling between the two of you. 

It was enough to earn a chuckle from Luke. “We are pretty annoying, aren’t we?” He sat back in his chair, cracking his knuckles casually. “You know, my last two girlfriends have broken up with me because of this job. One was serious– the last one, not so much. But still. They said it was too demanding– that I couldn’t make them a priority. I don’t know if you remember the Orlando case last fall. The one with–”

“The fourteen year old boy. We were too late to save him, but we got his sister,” you finished for him. “I remember.” Not only did you remember, but that very same case had been burned into your brain for months. 

Luke nodded. “Yeah. Well, when we got back from that case, that’s when she broke up with me. She said she was trying to deal with me being gone all the time. But if I couldn’t even be present when I was home, she was done. God, I had nightmares about that case for weeks– still do sometimes.” 

You gazed at him sympathetically. Unfortunately, his story wasn’t that out of the norm. Aside from you, everyone on the team in a relationship was already married. Once you had a solid, established relationship, most times it was doable. But the reality was, it was hard to date someone and be part of the BAU. 

“I’m sorry,” you said softly. 

“Don’t be,” he waved you off. “They were right. I put my job first. And I’d like to think that the person I’m supposed to be with would understand how important this work is to me, even if each case takes a little piece from me.”

You thought about Justin– always criticizing, always making comments and remarks about how much you worked. You thought about the last few weeks and all the late nights you’d sat and done unnecessary paper at your desk just to avoid going home to him. 

“Or maybe you’d actually want to make the person you’re supposed to be with the priority,” you suggested softly without meeting Luke’s gaze.   

Luke had just been so vulnerable with you– telling you about his relationship problems like you were someone he could confide in. And the scary part was, you liked it. You liked being someone he came to with these types of things. You wished he’d do it more. 

Justin never confided in you– never let you confide in him, either. You stared intently down at your lap and wondered what it would feel like to have someone who would. 

“Justin and I– we’re having some issues.”

Finally, you dared to look up at Luke. His brown eyes looked black in the dimly lit jet, but they still glistened as he listened. “He’s just so mad at me,” you whispered, voice faltering. You’d barely said anything, but you could already feel all of the emotions you’d been masking and forcing down start to bubble towards the surface. “All the time. And I don’t know what to do about it. I don’t know if I want to do anything about it.”

Luke leaned forward again, his elbows resting on his knees while he wound his fingers together. “I heard him when he dropped you off in the garage the other day,” Luke said honestly. Instantly, you felt heat rise to your cheeks. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, I swear, I was just waiting in my car because I was early and well–”

You took a shaky breath, embarrassed beyond belief. “Anyone in the vicinity would have heard him that day.”

Luke’s voice lowered. “Does he always talk to you like that?” 

Yes, you thought. 

“No. That was just a bad morning.”

Luke nodded, but pursed his lips like he didn’t quite believe you. “I know it isn’t my place, but you don’t deserve that. I mean, fuck, no one does. But especially you.”

You smiled softly, trying to believe that he was right– that you didn’t deserve Justin’s harsh comments or anger. And on some level, you knew you didn’t. But another part of you always wondered why you didn’t try harder– why you didn’t care if he ended things or not. 

“Thanks Luke.” 

He nodded, leaning back once again. You gazed out the jet window, seeing familiar city lights in the distance. You’d be landing soon. And then it was back to whatever grim reality faced you at home.   

 “You don’t have your car today, do you?” Luke asked suddenly, stirring you from your thoughts. 

You shook your head. “Uh no. When I went to leave for work, my tires were flat.”

“All of them?” he asked, sounding shocked. 

“All of them.” 

“What’d you do, park in a pile of glass?”

“No, I think they were slashed.”

Luke’s eyes widened, a wave of concern washing over his face. “You don’t think–”

“I have no proof,” you said, knowing instantly what Luke was implying before he even said it. “But yes.”

“Jesus–”

You took a slow, steadying breath, doing your best not to fall apart in front of Luke. 

“I think your place is on my way home,” Luke said after a moment. “I can give you a ride.”

You looked up, instantly ready to decline the generous offer. Luke was good– too good. And you didn’t want to ruin whatever type of friendship was blossoming between you by being too needy right from the start. 

“Don’t even try to say no,” he spoke first. “Please let me give you a ride.”

By habit, you chewed on your lower lip. 

“Don’t overthink it,” he said quietly. “I wouldn’t have offered if it was going to be an inconvenience.”

You felt guilty– you really couldn’t help it, and you weren’t used to accepting help from others. But something about Luke’s tone was so earnest, you believed him. He wouldn’t have offered if he didn’t expect you to say yes. After a moment, you nodded slowly. “Okay,” your head hung, gaze falling to your lap. “Thank you.”

The two of you spent the final minutes of the jet ride sitting quietly, gazes fixated out the window as the pilot landed you safely back in Quantico. When the lights flickered on, your other team members stirred in their seats with exhausted sighs and groans. You grabbed your go bag and followed closely behind Luke as he stepped off the plane. 

“Need anything inside?” he asked. 

You shook your head. “No, I’m good.”

With that, he adjusted the bag on his shoulder and veered towards the parking garage with you just strides behind him. 

Luke made small talk on the ride home. It was like he knew how nervous you were to see Justin and was trying to lighten the mood. You mostly just smiled and nodded in response, and felt grateful when Luke didn’t pressure you or point this out. Only when you got close enough to offer him instructions to your house did you actually utter any words. 

Then, before you knew it, Luke was putting his truck in park on the street near your house. You swallowed thickly as soon as you saw Justin’s car in the driveway and a single light still on in the house. 

The harsh reality was that you had no idea what to expect when you walked through those doors. But here… now… sitting in this truck with Luke, you felt safe. It was hard to leave that. 

But of course you had to. Luke couldn’t wait here all night. 

“Thanks for the ride,” you said softly, trying to conceal how shaky your voice sounded. 

“I don’t mean to overstep,” he said quickly. “But… I just– I mean, I don’t feel good about leaving you here.”

You shook your head quickly. Again, not wanting to feel like a burden. “I’m fine. It’ll be fine. He can be controlling and he gets angry– but he’d never hurt me or anything.”

Luke nodded, although the furrow in his brow told you he didn’t quite believe you. 

“You have my number. Promise me you’ll call if you need anything.”

You weren’t used to this kind of generosity. But before you could overthink things, you nodded earnestly, believing that you would actually call him if it came to that. If nothing else, Luke had proven how trustworthy he was in the last few hours alone. 

“Alright,” he nodded carefully as you slid out of the front seat of his truck, feet colliding with the pavement. 

“Thanks again,” you did your best to muster up a genuine smile. 

The corner of his lip tugged up slightly, but concern was still plastered over his face. “See you on Monday then.”

“Monday,” you agreed. 

With that, you closed the door– putting a literal wall between you and the only person who had made you feel safe in the last week. 

You turned towards your house, the knots in your stomach tightening with each passing moment. When you reached the front door, you turned one last time to see Luke leaned forward, eyes trained on you. Your chest softened when you realized he was waiting for you to get inside safely before driving off. Offering him one, final wave, you turned to unlock the front door. 

When you first stepped inside your house– everything looked normal. The light above the stove was on and the fridge hummed softly. You placed your duffel bag on the floor and stepped into the kitchen for some water. As you filled up a glass, you began to wonder if maybe you’d overreacted. Maybe Justin had been busy with work this week– just like you’d been. 

But your wishful thinking was short lived. 

Because the second you turned away from the faucet, you nearly jumped out of your skin at the sight of Justin– standing on the other side of the island counter. You hadn’t even heard him approach you. 

“Jesus, Justin–” you gasped, setting your glass of water down on the counter. “You scared me.”

Instead of replying, his eyes just narrowed. He looked angry– angrier than you’d ever seen him. An eerie chill crept down your spine, sending an eruption of goosebumps across your skin. 

“Where were you?” he asked, voice menacing and icy. 

“I told you– there was a case–”

His hands slammed down on the counter, causing you to take a step back as you jumped. 

“Don’t lie to me!” 

“I’m not lying–” you said quickly, trying to keep your own voice even. You knew how important it would be to remain calm. 

But despite your efforts, Justin swiped his hand across the counter, sending your cup of water colliding into the wall, where it shattered. 

You winced, unable to completely contain your shock. Because despite the yelling and the screaming, Justin had never done that before. Something inside of you told you that you had to leave… now– but you couldn’t react in time. Because before you could even turn your body to head towards the door, he was already turning the corner around the island, eliminating the only barrier between you and his violent outburst. 

“Where are you going, huh?” he challenged. “Gonna take off again?”

“I was at work, Justin– I told you that.”

He took another step closer to you, sending you a step backwards. Like a choreographed dance, you alternated steps until you heard the crunch of glass beneath your shoes. You’d reached the wall. You were cornered. 

Panic flooded through you. And suddenly, logic went out the window. You couldn’t think rationally– you couldn’t problem solve. Everything just went blank. 

“Who brought you home tonight, hm?” 

He was close enough that you could smell the alcohol melting off his breath. You lowered your head, trying to appear as submissive as you could– because what the hell else were you supposed to do?

“I saw the truck– the white one? Who the fuck was that?”

“Just someone from work,” you answered quickly. 

“Just someone from work, huh?” He took another step forward. There was practically no space between the two of you now. “Look at me when you talk.” 

You were trembling so hard, you couldn’t follow his commands as fast as he wanted. 

“I said–” he snapped harshly. Instantly, you felt fingers wrapping around your throat, forcing your head up. Justin’s hand squeezed, cutting air off. “Look at me when you talk.” 

His grip tightened. “Go ahead– say it. Tell me where you were.”

You opened your mouth, but you couldn’t even get air in your lungs, let alone formulate words. 

Justin’s eyebrow raised. For a moment, he actually looked like he was enjoying this. 

“No?” he asked. “Nothing? Are you finally done lying to me?”

You tried to inhale– but when nothing came, more panic settled in your stomach. You squirmed, needing air fast. Your hands raised to grab his forearm, desperate for him to let go. You tried to breathe again– but when air still didn’t come, you dug your nails into his skin without thinking– scratching him, hoping that would help. Except, you were so panicked, you had no concept of how hard you actually scratched him. Your nails broke through the skin– causing him to release your throat.  

“You bitch,” he hissed. Before you could even take a breath, you felt something collide with the side of your face, sending your head whipping to the side. 

Your head hung for a moment while your brain tried to comprehend what was happening. 

Justin had hit you– and there was currently something warm dripping down the side of your head. As you were hunched over, you felt something then collide with your stomach– hard. His knee maybe? You couldn’t tell–

“You let some man drive you home to my house!” he yelled, hand closing around your throat again. This time, he launched you backwards, whipping your head into the wall forcefully. “And then you come in and you fucking lie about it?” 

You grasped at his wrist– not scratching, but trying to get him to loosen his grip. You couldn’t breathe– no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t breathe. 

“Please,” you tried to say, but all that came out was a gasp. 

You attempted to look at him– hoping he could see how sincere you were being. But when you gazed up, your stomach just dropped. His eyes were menacing– black, empty. He looked like he could kill you right here and now and not care in the slightest. 

Justin’s grip tightened, you could feel each individual finger as it dug deeper into your skin, cutting off your airway– crushing your windpipe. 

You were going to die– You were going to die and there was nothing you could do to stop it. 

You dug your nails into his skin again, you flailed– you slapped with what energy you had left. But nothing was working. Your vision was blurring– dark edges starting to create a tunnel around the world. He was too strong– and you were going to die. 

Until suddenly, with no warning, Justin’s grip loosened. 

Instantly, you slid to the floor– coughing and choking as you gasped for air. 

You waited for whatever would come next– a kick to the ribs, something clattering over your head. But instead, you heard his footsteps retreating. 

You willed yourself to look up– through foggy vision clouded by tears, you saw Justin backing out of the kitchen, his eyes wide. 

“I-I–” he stammered. “I didn’t–” For a moment he paused, like he was frozen in place, before shaking his head. 

You were too focused on trying to breathe regularly again to make sense of the look of remorse seemingly on his face before he darted out of the room. 

Although he was out of your sight, you knew Justin couldn’t be far. And you knew that, despite the fact that you were sputtering and could barely breathe, you had to get out of that house. With what little strength you had left, you pushed yourself off the floor. Your back throbbed from being thrown against the wall, while a wave of dizziness overcame you. You all but staggered to where you’d dropped your bag earlier, doing a quick scan of the room before grabbing the strap and hauling it over your shoulder. 

You hurried to the front door, hand on the knob, when you paused. 

Where the hell were you supposed to go?

And then Luke’s words from earlier flashed through your mind. 

Promise me you’ll call if you need anything. 

You couldn’t– you thought. You’d already asked him for so much. But he did make you promise. And honestly, you couldn’t think of anyone in the world aside from him that you’d talk to about what had just happened. 

Suddenly, you heard movement from upstairs. 

You didn’t have time to toggle back and forth. You had to make a decision. 

Before you could second guess anything, you grabbed your phone from your pocket, pulled up Luke’s contact info, and hurried out the door. 

…

The second your name flashed across his screen, Luke knew he shouldn’t have left. Granted, he was only four minutes down the road– but he wished he had listened to his gut and just stayed. 

He slid his thumb across the screen. “Hello?”

He was met by an eerie silence.

“Hello?” he repeated. 

“Luke–” Your voice sounds so small– so choked up. “I’m sorry– I–” 

He waited a moment, hanging on to each word you spoke like it was a prayer. 

“Could you– maybe… could you come back? I’m so sorry– I–”

Luke was already turning his truck around before you could finish your choppy sentence. 

“I’m on my way,” he assured you. “Stay right there, okay?”

He was pretty sure he heard you agree before the line went dead. But regardless, Luke was back at your house in an instant. The second he put his truck in park, he was already undoing his seatbelt and launching himself out of the car. 

He had no idea what he was walking into– all he knew was that he had to get you out of there. What the hell could this asshole have said to you to have you so shaken up over the phone? 

He imagined knocking on the door– finding you tear streaked and trembling. It made his insides roar with anger before even seeing you. 

Except, when Luke turned the corner of his truck. He didn’t have to reach the front door to see you. He didn’t even have to walk across your lawn. Instead, you were hunched over on the curb, face buried in your hands while your whole body shook. 

Luke’s shoulders fell– your name tumbling from his lips as he approached you.

He had prepared for trembling– he had prepared for crying. But what he wasn’t prepared for, was seeing your face, bloodied and bruised when you looked up at him. 

He stopped dead in his tracks, everything inside of him turning to ice at the sight. 

“Where is he?” Luke managed to choke out. His voice sounded muffled and distant in his own ears. 

You let out a shaky breath before attempting to smile– like you were trying to somehow convince him that you were okay. The cut on your lip stretched as you did, making you wince. “Inside,” you whispered. 

He nodded once. As much as he didn’t want to leave you out here alone, Luke couldn’t help himself. 

“I’ll kill him,” he said through gritted teeth. And just like that, he was off– taking long strides towards the front door. He had no idea what your house looked like– no idea where he’d find that asshole lurking. All Luke knew was that he was going to pay for what he did to you. 

He had tunnel vision– the only thing in front of him was a blind, rageful desire to hurt that piece of shit as much as he had hurt you. He was narrowing in on the front door– just a few steps away… until he heard something break through the fog. 

It was you– your voice so soft and broken, calling out to him desperately. He turned around, blinders widening to see you standing on the lawn, chest heaving and tears falling down your cheeks quickly. 

“Please Luke–” you begged. “Please don’t. I want to leave. Please, can we leave?”

He paused, but only for a second before all of his anger melted away in an instant.  

He nodded, knowing right there– in that moment, that he would do absolutely anything for you at the drop of a hat. In a few quick steps, he was back at your side, hand hovering near your lower back just in case you needed extra support. 

“We can go,” he said gently, purposely keeping his voice as calm as he could. “Let’s get you in the truck.” 

After only a couple of steps, Luke noticed that you were limping. He felt a wave of tears burning behind his eyes. He was frustrated– angry. With your boyfriend, but mostly with himself. He knew he shouldn’t have left. He knew it in his gut. He should have been there– maybe if he’d stayed, he would’ve heard the yelling– he could’ve stepped in before things got this bad. 

“Can you get up, okay?” he asked as he opened the passenger door for you.

You nodded, reaching up for the handle bar. He watched as you winced– just the extension of your torso causing your breathing to increase. 

“You’re alright,” he said. “Let me help.” 

He made sure to wait for you to nod before he placed his hand against your lower back. Ever so gently, he supported your weight so that you could hoist yourself up into the front seat. 

“There you go,” he said, once you were safely tucked inside. He closed the door and turned to head to the driver’s side. Just as he did, he caught a flash of movement from the direction of your house. When he looked, he saw Justin standing on the front porch. Even from the road, Luke could see the tears glistening in his eyes. 

He felt the familiar anger from earlier resurfacing inside of him. It tightened in his chest– burned in his stomach. He envisioned himself crossing the lawn– grabbing Justin by the shirt collar– launching his fist right into his jaw. 

Luke inhaled deeply before looking back towards you. You were staring at him, crying again, your face riddled with fear. Because you knew exactly what he was imagining, and it made you afraid. 

Luke’s insides softened. 

No. 

He would not just be another man who scared you tonight. Luke wanted to be someone you felt safe with. 

Without looking back, he hurried along the front of his hood and climbed into his side of the truck. He put the truck in drive and calmly accelerated down the road– away from everything that had ever hurt you. 

…

It was only when you were in the safe confinement of Luke’s truck that you realized how bad you were shaking.  

The further you got from the house, the more the events from that evening sank into your brain. You’d seen this before with victims– once their adrenaline calmed down and they actually realized they were safe, fight or flight wasn’t protecting them anymore.

There was so much you wanted to say to Luke. But you could barely muster up the strength to breathe, let alone explain yourself. 

But you knew that you had to say something. You inhaled shakily and picked at the loose hangnail on your thumb. “Luke, I’m so sorry,” you said, breaking through the thick silence. 

He adjusted his grip on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white from how hard he was holding on. He hadn’t said a word since you’d been on the road and you found yourself wondering what was going through his mind. Was he angry? Annoyed? Frustrated?   

Luke grimaced. “Please don’t apologize,” he said softly. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

You bit your lip to keep any tears from spilling out– you’d cried enough in front of Luke for one day. “I just meant that I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”

“You didn’t drag me into anything.”

Something in his tone just seemed so off– so curt. You desperately needed to make this right. 

“Is there a hotel or something on the way to your place? You don’t have to go out of your way– you can just drop me off, I don’t want to inconvenience you–”

Luke hit the breaks, his truck coming to a stop as he pulled over on the side of the road. After shifting the gear, he turned in his seat to look at you. 

“I’m not inconvenienced by you. And I’m not dropping you off at a hotel. You’re coming to my place, and I’m going to clean up your cuts, and then I’m going to make you dinner.”

“Luke–” you started to protest but he shook his head. 

“Please,” he said, voice cracking. “Please, let me do this– Otherwise… otherwise I won’t be able to forgive myself.”

Your brows furrowed. “Forgive yourself? What are you talking about?”

Luke shook his head, his dark mop of curls unruly after the long day. Slowly, he lifted his head and gazed out of the windshield, like he was deep in thought. 

“I knew something was wrong– I mean, I heard the way he spoke to you in the garage. After you told me he slashed your tires… I just knew. I knew something bad would happen when I dropped you off, but I tried to convince myself I was just being dramatic– or paranoid. But I knew– and I didn’t listen. I left you, and you got hurt. So please, let me make you dinner and give you a safe place to be tonight. It’s the least I can do.”

Your mouth hung open– whatever you thought was going on in Luke’s mind, it wasn’t that. Before you could think twice, you leaned forward in your seat and gathered his hand in yours. His warm skin touched yours– sending shockwaves through your entire body. 

“None of this was your fault,” you assured him. “In fact, you've shown me more kindness in the last few hours than I think Justin has shown me in the last year. I’m so grateful it was you who came and got me tonight, Luke.”

The words came out so easily– probably because of how true they were. 

His gaze flickered towards yours– eyes glistening with unshed tears. He spun his hand, so that your palms pressed against each other, before lacing your fingers together and squeezing gently. 

“You know I’ll never let him hurt you again, right?” he asked. 

His words sent chills down your spine. You did know, but you weren't sure if you were ready to admit that or not. So instead, you changed the subject.

"Are we almost to your house?"

Luke shrugged. "Not really- I'm closer to Stafford, probably thirty five minutes."

You frowned. "Stafford? That's the opposite direction. I thought you said my place was on your way home."

A smirk crept across Luke's face. "That might've been a tiny lie."

"Luke!" you exclaimed.

He let out a laugh. "What? I knew you wouldn't have gotten in the car otherwise. Am I wrong?"

You let out a huff of air, hating the fact that he was right.

As he put the truck in drive and continued down the road, you squeezed his hand back.

[jirsungs]

ep 28: no girls allowed at rockway rehearsals!

word count: 1.8k

As against your will, you pull up to Ningning's apartment, letting out a begrudging sigh as you wait for her in your car. You send her a quick “i'm outside” text before turning up the volume of the current song on Aux. Creep by Radiohead, Jisung sent you the Spotify link a couple of days ago, telling you to think of him whenever it comes on. 

As corny and somewhat cute as it is, you do think of him when you hear the song's melody, and you can't stop the blushing smile that forms on your face when it does. You sing along to the music, occupying yourself as you wait for Ningning.

I want you to notice

When I'm not around

You're so fuckin' special

Not even five minutes later, your eyes catch your best friend running down the stairs of her apartment complex. You assume she rushed out because of her hurried appearance; her hair was still left unbrushed, and her right Doc Martens shoe was untied, making her almost trip down the stairs. You stifle a laugh. 

But when she enters your car, you notice her makeup is still fresh, and her eyeliner is precise and properly taken care of. 

Your smug smirk has Ningning breaking the silence first. “What?”

Her pretending to be clueless makes you smile, "Oh, nothing, nothing. You just look… very pretty today.”

Ningning squints her eyes at you, already knowing that a tease from you is on its way, so she starts it for you.

“I wanted to look presentable!”

This, you laugh at. “The Rockway guys have seen you worse, well, except him.”

You send her another smirk, to which she whines at your attempt to tease her about her little crush. Feeling a bit of sympathy for your best friend, you start the car and begin to drive off.

The scream of “Y/N!” from Mark and Haechan is the first thing to welcome you and Ningning when you both enter the old garage or, to be specific, Mark's parents’ garage. The said band members are the only ones there at the moment, and they immediately run up to give hugs. 

Haechan engulfs you first; he lifts you off the ground, causing you to smack his shoulder to put you down. When he does, Mark takes his turn hugging you, and you glimpse at Ningning and Haechan doing their designed handshake.

Soon after, the rest of the Rockway guys walk in with water bottles and snacks in their hands, provided by Mark's mother. But once Jisung takes notice of you, he messily drops the snacks he was holding into Chenle's arms. Before the poor guy can react, Jisung's already pushing through to quickly get to you. 

“Baby!”

While Jisung runs up to you, the band pays no mind to it as Chenle and Jeno set the snacks down on the table in the corner, and Haechan takes a bite of the assorted crackers as Mark double-checks the sound of his guitar.

A smile is plastered on your face at the sight of your boyfriend. “Hi, Ji–” 

His sudden embrace cuts you off, and instead of saying anything about it, you just let it happen. You love his hugs; he's the epitome of warmth and comfort, plus, he always smells nice.

Your hug sadly doesn't last long before Ningning cuts in, “Gee, hello to you too, Jisung.”

But you don't take her petty commentary to heart, especially since you're used to it. Jisung rests his arm around your neck before he apologizes and greets with a “What's up, Ning,” to which she replies cheekily at the acknowledgment. 

When Ningning walks over to Jeno and Mark and is out of earshot from the two of you, Jisung leans his head down to whisper, “Is it just me or does she look more put together than usual?”

You smack his chest gently at this: “Park Jisung, you’re so mean,” but your boyfriend isn’t affected because, from the raise of his brows, he’s not convinced, so you continue. “She texted me if I was free to hang out, but I told her you already invited me, so… She joined along because of you-know-who.”

Jisung’s mouth forms an O: “Ohhh, that explains it.”

You chuckle and lift your hand to gesture for his black glasses that are resting on the bridge of his nose. Upon seeing his approval, you happily remove them from his face, put them on yours, and look up at him with an excited smile. He looks at you like you’re the only girl in his world. You love it when he looks at you like that, despite it making you weak in the knees every single time. 

“Don’t look at me like that, you weirdo.” You smack his chest again, but just like before, he pays no mind to you trying to hide your flustered state. If anything, he’d like to see more of it, which explains why he gives you a quick kiss on the lips.

“You look pretty in my glasses.” 

To Jisung’s happiness and your dismay, he was able to see more of it. But, as always, you can’t stay mad at him. 

Plus, thanks to his nod toward Ningning, you don’t miss the awkward tension between her and Jeno after being left alone by Mark, who quickly gets the hint. From your observation, Jeno either complimented or embarrassed her with the way her face grew pink. But your small worry about it possibly not being the first reason disappears once you see Jeno make her laugh. 

“Something tells me that this rehearsal will end up being a love fest,” Haechan says disgustedly, which Chenle laughs at. From the corner of the garage, they eye their two band members, who are in different stages of love. Jisung is deep into his super-whipped-and-would-do-anything-for-his-girlfriend, while Jeno has just entered his awkward-like-high-schoolers-in-love stage. 

Luckily, Mark notices the attention shift in the room and brings the band back to focus. “Alright guys, let’s start this up!”

Surprisingly, Rockway’s able to rehearse for three hours with no distractions; it’s only surprising because Jisung and Jeno aren’t going completely heart-eyes for the girls and are focused on their task at hand. 

The gig they were practicing for was said to be a big one. You remember Jisung gushing about how excited he was once he found out that a music producer reached out to Mark and talked about potentially signing them if they could surprise them again.

After those three hours, Jisung and Jeno found themselves starting to get handsy, which was unfortunate for the rest of the Rockway bandmates. They’re positively sure that it wasn’t intentional by the two guys, but once Mark called for a ten-minute break, everything went south. Ningning, who was highly encouraged by you to walk over to Jeno, became a stuttering mess around him, leading them both to become awkward again, while Jisung pulled you onto his lap, messing around with his drums.

Mark walks over to Haechan and Chenle, who are back in the corner. “Okay, new rule: no girls allowed at Rockway rehearsals.” He sighs exasperatedly, his two fingers on the bridge of his nose, as he tries to calm himself down. “As much as I love them, Jeno is embarrassing to watch, and Jisung is… also embarrassing.”

Haechan snickers and takes a sip of his water, and Chenle pats the stressed Mark on the back. “Oh, come on, man. Rehearsal’s been going great. We already lost Jisung to Loverboy Land, but—” He motions for the two guys to look over at Jeno, who was sending them a desperate eye signal of help: “We can help Jeno.”

“You know, it’s kind of funny seeing Ning get all quiet around a guy she likes when she’s literally the scariest woman we know,” Mark adds.

Mark and Chenle jog over to the awkward pair and Haechan stays behind, telling them he’ll catch up after he’s finished drinking his water. When he’s done, he grumbles, “I knew this was gonna happen,” and rushes to the rest of the group.

When you call Ningning over and she’s left occupied, Haechan, Mark, and Chenle take their opportunity to snag Jeno away with the remainder of the ten-minute break to stop this awkward madness from continuing. 

Mark’s the first one to start it with a smack on Jeno’s arm: “Dude, what the hell are you doing? I thought you were good with girls!”

Jeno winces in pain while Chenle inputs, “Where’s your supposed Jeno charm, or whatever you call it? You look like an idiot out there!”

Anticipating another scold, Jeno looks at Haechan, who raises his hands in defense. “I dunno, man, I just followed them.” He puts his hands down and continues, “But since you’re already waiting for advice, Ning’s already opened up to you; stop acting scared and let her in.”

Jeno sighs, already familiar with the advice given: “Guys, I’ve been trying! I thought we made progress when I made her laugh earlier, but I doubt she found it that funny…”

"Oh, puh-lease, did you not hear her? She was still giggling over it when we started rehearsal.” Chenle says.

Haechan butts in, pouting, “Jeno gets funnier and attracts women... Oh, Lord, how sad has my life become?”

The said man rolls his eyes, and Mark takes this time to advise more: “Jeno, you like her, don’t you?”

“Of course I do, but I don’t want to make her uncomfortable if she doesn’t feel the same way.”

Once hearing Jeno’s idiotic response, the boys reply with Haechan’s “Oh my God!” while Mark and Chenle face-palm. How could someone be so oblivious?

The commotion sparks Jisung’s interest, leading him to excuse himself from you and Ningning and join his friends. He adds himself to the small huddle between Haechan and Chenle. 

“Hi, guys. What’re you talking about?”

Startled by the younger one, Haechan puts his hand on his chest and says, “Geez, Sungie!” 

But Jisung only giggles, “My bad. But if we’re lecturing Jeno on how horrible he’s doing with Ning, please fill me in.” He ends with a cheeky smile. 

Sensing Jeno’s annoyed whine at the mention of his current dilemma, Mark beats him to it. “You know what?” he eyes Jeno and Jisung. “Band meeting after the girls leave.”

From Mark’s stern attitude, the rest of the band rehearsal was a little bit rocky. No one dared to cross a line with him, keeping their mouths shut unless Mark asked for input on any potential improvements.

After the guys said goodbye to you and Ningning and Jisung gave you his regular goodbye kiss and “text me when you get home,”  you left, leaving the Rockway guys alone. With Mark. And he was scaringly over the edge. 

After calling the end of rehearsal, Mark huddles the band together. Before he speaks, he puts his hands together, almost in prayer, and exhales, “From now on, NO GIRLS ALLOWED AT ROCKWAY REHEARSALS!”

To this, Jisung pouts, “Can Y/N be an exception though?”

But all Jisung gets is a combined “no!” from the band. 

The younger whines in response, “Then, is Ning included in that?”

His whine leads everyone to turn to Jeno, whose face has turned a bright shade of pink. “She's… different and doesn't count.”

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note: ning lore is now revealed, and jaem finally got the answer!!! 😍🙏 i can't believe this chapter marks three chapters left until i have to officially say goodbye to this smau 😭

🎫 (open taglist!): @idkwhatursayinh @sunghoonsgfreal @multifandomania @nanaxwi @odxrilove @sourrpatched @hancafe @chaellaa @dojaejunging @jising-jisang-jisung @heheheeral @haechansbbg @renjunsversion @onlyhyunjin @woshixinqgiu @jiiieun @pinknjm @mrsbyun-baek @neozon3nha @joyzluvr @aerivrs @nosungluv @haechology @beomgyusonlywife @injunnie-lemon @tommina @222low @film-sea @vantxx95 @cyjzzl @nctrawberries @woorcve @vklve @bee-the-loser @lostinneocity @zzurao @hoonieluv

[arminsumi]

Saw this and thought... Mafia AU Gojo & Geto 👀

Share a piece of your juicy brain thoughts please, I'm collecting all the scraps 😗

PRETTY THING LIKE YOU.

𝐆. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 — 五条悟 ⋅ 𝐆. 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 — 夏油傑

NOTE: OH TO BE IN THAT CAR 🛐 anyways, these are just... messy ideas pls forgive me!! 🥲 idk how to write for mafia stuff but i adore the idea sm i wanted to say a lil smth about it

WARNINGS — fem reader, you're Toji's daughter, err mafia stuff warning idk?? implied kidnapping, implied light use of violence, Geto calling u nicknames (sweetheart, baby, etc), i made Gojo a meanie for some reason oops, some vague semblance of a plotline lol

🍒 𝐉𝐚𝐲 — サクランボ ⋅ 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 !

Your dad is Toji Fushiguro, he sits on a big throne in this business. Everyone knows him, everyone's scared of him — why wouldn't they be? Except for these two particular men... who consider themselves the strongest 🙄 Big, big severely inflated egos they've got.

Toji hired Nanami to be the loyal bodyguard for his precious daughter. Why? Well, to put it simply — these two men are looking to take revenge on him with you as their playing card.

Geto and Gojo are on the hunt one night for you, and you fall right into their palms. Usually the black car with tinted windows has Nanami behind the wheel, ready to drive you home after a night out. But one night it's those two.

The drive is silent and uneasy. Gojo is flicking his gaze up at the rearview mirror to check you out with those piercing blue eyes of his. Geto is talking to you in a sickeningly saccharine sultry voice, nicknaming you sweetheart, princess, love, baby, etc... and trying his best to keep you calm with simple small-talk.

Gojo? He's more intimidating than his friend behind the wheel. He will not stop eyeing you out, even when you three end up in some fancy penthouse. You blink up at him innocently, it almost makes his heart lurch — he's wondering how such a pretty face came from such a bastard.

Whatever Toji did to them in the past, they were still seething over. Seems their idea of a revenge plot involved you. But you had no idea what to expect. They didn't have intent to hurt you — well, subtract Gojo pulling and pushing you around like a ragdoll when you weren't compliant enough. But Geto always scolded him.

In fact, Geto calmed the both of you so nicely. He put on water to boil and languidly stirred tea in the kitchen. It was surreal and bizarre in some way.

"Sweetheart, we're gonna be transparent with you. We're just keeping you here for a little while to get your dad's attention. You're gonna be treated like a princess, so don't you worry — " he lifted you by the chin so you had to look up at him, "A pretty thing like you isn't in trouble with us."

Gojo scoffed. He had his arms folded. Legs crossed. Spine slacked against the couch.

"Don't mind him, princess. He's just grumpy — your old man wasn't very kind to him in his youth." Geto explained super vaguely.

Gojo chuckled, "Yeah, you're damn right he wasn't kind to me. Sonofabitch wasted me."

"Well she had nothing to do with that, Satoru, so treat her good."

He grumbled in reluctant agreement. But the second Geto was out of sight, when Gojo led you to your bedroom, he entrapped you between two arms and practically pinned you to the wall.

"Listen — princess — " he mockingly impersonated Geto, "You keep those lips shut or I will shut them for you." he threatened, breathe fanning your face.

Well, it was hard to keep your lips shut. A week later, you woke up and went into the kitchen to find Gojo with a bloodstain in his white hair, Geto with a crimson splatter across his cheek, and a gun resting on the table that towered with green stacks of money. You didn't dare ask what was going on. You just looked at them until they said something from themselves.

"Don't worry." Geto's serene smile caught your worried gaze, "Just business, angel."

"What exactly-" you began, but Gojo gave you a sharp look and Geto immediately cut you off.

" — ah-ah, baby. We've already talked about this." he cooed. His smile had the vaguest sinister twist to it, "Keep that pretty mouth shut. No asking questions."

© 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐢 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈'𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄.

[jkmyluv]

THE DATE || JJK

Pairing : Boxer jk × Female reader

Genre : Established relationship, Boxer au

Summary : Spending the whole day going on various dates with your boyfriend, starting from amusement parks to trying sushi for the first time with your boyfriend.

Warnings : Female reader, Butt taps, KISSES, a few suggestive comments but no actual smut, making out, shy reader and jk, Reader hates sushi (sorry if u don't lmao), cringe couple shit.

The bright light shines down on your and your boyfriends face as you struggle to get into your boyfriends car. "Need help getting your cute ass in there?" He asks causing you to groan, "Its all your fault jeon, shut up" you speak up glaring at him.

He feigns innocence and teasingly replies while holding his chest pretending to be hurt, "baby it was not me who was whining yesterday night to go faster"

"Its not my fault my boyfriend doesn't know how to fuck properly that I have to beg him to do the bare minimum" you look up at him with a teasing glint but immediately regret it when you see his dark gaze.

"And thats why you squirted three times yesterday, was yesterday not enough brat?", causing you to immediately smile and peck his cheek,

"I'm just kidddinngggg jungkook, don't be mean and start the car, I wanna go ride all the rides and don't be scared ill protect you",

causing jungkook to scoff, "Lets see whose the one who ends up crying like a baby". The car ride is pretty silent except for jungkook singing and cursing at people for not driving properly.

"You're so handsome" causing jungkook to look away from you and blush "get down baby we're here"

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Here you were standing in the line for about 40 mins to get on the ferris wheel, because according to jungkook its very romantic, "jungkook i can't do it please, its so hot i can't even stand" you say while taking heavy breathes causing jungkook to look at you while rasing his eyebrows, his hands grip your waist and pulls you closer, " If u wanted me to carry you so badly, all u could've done is asked instead of whining" he smirks and abruptly lifts you up causing you to yell at him.

"Jungkook are you dumb, put me down there are kids here, put me down you idi-mmph"

You feel jungkooks lip press onto yours harshly and his hands grip you tightly in his arms, you start feeling all giddy inside until u feel him pull away and lick a stripe up your cheeks. "JUNGKOOK YOU'RE DISGUSTING"

Jungkook puts you down and back hugs you so that you won't be able to hit him, "baby thats just how I show i love you, and u smelled so good" causing you to admit your Defeat.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sun starts setting down and jungkook decides that its time to picnic in the park,so you and you're beloved boxer boyfriend sit on the mat that you layed out.

You both were lying on your stomach and facing each other, jungkook had one of his hands on your hips holding your long flowy skirt down, and your hands were caressing his eyebrows, eyes, his scar, his lips, as you lean to Peck his lips.

"Did I tell you, you look really pretty today and the skirt looks really good on you"

"You did" , "nothing wrong with saying it again, you're so pretty, the prettiest and the cutest, even though we argue like kids sometimes, but that's something I wouldn't change for the world." This makes you tear up a but as jungkook was never really someone who spoke his feelings, you push his chest and make him lay on his back and lay on top of him with only your lower body on the mat and your upper bodies pressed together, you start pecking all over his face and whisper lovingly " i love you so much jungkook, you're so cute, the cutest cutie pie"

causing jungkook to groan, "I'm not cute baby, way to ruin the moment" causing you to giggle, "just like how your hard on is ruining the moment by poking my stomach, can't even be romantic with my boyfriend" you huff and lay down on your side facing away from him pretending to be mad.

Jungkook pinches your hips, "cmon turn around" and you don't.

But jungkook takes this as a perfect opportunity to hit your butt, the sound of his hands hitting your butt echoes through your ears as you yelp and bring your hands to cover your rear. "Stop that jeon, it hurts" making jungkook coo and rub your butt and he proceeds to pat it, " there you go all better or do u want me to kiss it better?"

"Talk to me when your hard on is gone", you say.

Jungkook sighs and lifts your head and slides it onto his arm, as a pillow and hugs your waist from behind. "What are you doing" , "spooning my baby, what can I do when my girlfriends being all cute and sexy, ofcourse I'm gonna get hard" you blush as you feel his hard on on your back.

You turn around in his arm and wrap your arms around his neck, making him wrap his arms around your waist, you both smile at each other and you slowly inch closer, you feel his breath on you're lips and you pull him closer and press your lips on his, his hands immediately grip you tighter and pull you closer causing you to whimper. Jungkook groans at that and pushes his tounge inside your mouth roughly and grips your chin to pull you even more closer, making you pull away from the absence of air, whimpering. But you have no time to catch your breath as a pair of lips proceeds to press itself on your lips and jungkooks hand pulls you even more closer, you try pushing him away by his chest, but he doesn't even budge.

"I c-cant breathe m-mphh* resulting in jungkook to finally pull away and giggle.

All this loving peace lasts for a moment until we see an old couple walking up to us yelling about public indecency causing you to freak out and get up and trying to make jungkook get up, "jungkook come on let's run", "baby tf are they gonna do, let them fucking come ill take care of them, don't be scared"

"JUNGKOOK IF YOU DONT GET UP RIGHT NOW I SWEAR IM GONNA CRY" this threat results in jungkook complying as you both hold each others hands and make a run for it as the old couples curses slowly dissappear into thin air and the only thing that's audible is the laughter that vibrates off of your chest, and the pure love you have for each other, at this moment you silently look up at jungkook and admire him and you realize how lucky you are to have a man like him.

"Stop looking at me like that if you don't want me to eat you", "you know what I'm hungry jungkook". After a back and forth argument of where to eat, you both decide to eat at this sushi place, as you told you're boyfriend you've never had sushi.

"Come on baby order anything you want, I'll pay" causing you to giggle "ofc sugar daddy"

"I can be your daddy if you like"

"JUNGKOOK", "I'm sorry"

You regret this, you can't eat it, you feel like throwing up, "it tastes so bad, how do people eat this?" Causing jungkook to act like he was offended "how dare you say that to my baby, she tastes so good, baby you don't have to eat it, order something else If you want"

That night when you had food poisoning, jungkook was the one who held your hair back when you threw up, he was the one who made sure you fell asleep with no discomfort, he made sure to stay awake to ensure you don't wake up in the middle of the night due to discomfort, he was the one who made sure you were warm and comfortable, he was the one who loved you, he was the one who put up with your tantrums, he was the one who let's you cuddle him every night even though he pretends to hate it, he is the one who always offers a shoulder to cry on or put your legs on.

[tiyanasfantasy]

Marry Her Anway ❦.

wussup yall !

i just wanna say i haven’t wrote anything in over a year, mostly due to no motivation, but I’m back! i lost my other account so I’m starting fresh! ion want you to have no high expectations, lemme get used to it again ok? sorry if this is bad 😩..!

buttt i was just listening to this song called “Rude” and i wanted to write a lil story based off of it soo here i goo.

Warnings: Language, not proofread (i think that’s all)

Ony x BlackFem!Reader

Enjoy ❦.

you and ony have been dating for 3 years now. the two of you met during your freshmen year of high school but started dating during yalls senior year, and have been together ever since.

ony had met your family a few times before, they think ony’s a nice guy, i mean he has money, and makes sure you’re always safe and taken care of, and cares about your health, feelings and wellbeing. anyone who’s ever been around the two of you always says you compliment each other very well, your mother and the rest of your family loves ony.

well, everyone except your dad.

your dad HATES ony. why? he says he has a bad feeling about him, that he had bad intentions and he doesn’t want that “Weed selling thug” around his daughter. when you first brought ony home your father said “You’re not gonna last, i’ll give it a week before you’re crying and telling us he’s either in prison or cheated on you with some chick” long story short he’s a D1 hater

but to his surprise, 3 years later you and ony are still together, now 22 and 23 years old and still deeply in love with each other.

ony was very aware of your fathers dislike of him, that didn’t stop him from driving to his house on a saturday morning in the finest clothes he could find, and knocking loud and proud on his door. KNOCK KNOCk KNOCK

when your father looked out the peep hole and seen it was on the let out a groan and opened the door. “what?” he said with and irritation in his voice .

“g’morning sir” ony said with a big grin on his face. “i would ask to come in but-“ before he could finish he was cut off by your fathers voice “no, what do you want ? i don’t have time for this, i have things to do, where’s my daughter ?”

ony cleared his throat. “yns at her hair appointment, i wanted to ask you something tho, this is very important and i know you love your daughter a lot, so your opinion on this matters a lot.”

your dad raised his eyebrow at ony, motioning that he was listening.

“uh ion really know how to ask this but i know that your an old fashion man so uh..” ony pulls a ring from behind his back and holds it up to show your dad “can i… can i marry your daughter?”

as he was asking this question, your mother was walking by and was shocked by what she just heard and quickly ran over to the door and seen ony holding up a beautiful diamond ring

“Yes! Yes you can!” your mother said admiring the pretty ring infront of her husbands face.

meanwhile your dad stood there with a look of shock and disgust on his face. “he was asking me. and no, no you can’t. you’ll never get my blessing till the day i die, tough luck my friend, but the answer is no!”

your mom looked at your dad with a shocked look on her face “why you gotta be so rude??”

connie got tired of waiting in the car and came out to see what was taking ony so long “what’d he say?”

ony looked at connie and shook his head “man,he said no.”

connie looked over at your dad “that’s crazy man, whatchu say no for? you know how bad that must’ve hurt my man ego?”

ony looked over at your dad too “right, don’t you know i’m human and got feelings too?”

your dad rolled his eyes “i’ve been saying this for years, you’re no good for my daughter, i’m not gonna let you marry her then cheat and force her to go through more pain and a divorce”

connie mean mugged your dad “no disrespect pops, but ony been in your daughter since we was freshies, this guy got nothing but good intentions, i swear to you”

your mom nodding her head in agreement, seeing this made your dad scoff and shake his head “like i said you don’t have my blessing, if i don’t want you even dating my daughter what makes you think i’d allow you to marry her, the answer is no?”

your mother was standing there with her arms crossed shaking her head “you think i’d tell him he could if i tht out he had bad intentions?” your dad still feelings to remorse said “i don’t care, my answers no.”

“that’s fucked man, for real.” connie said.

ony just let out a dry laugh “Don’t worry bout it yall, im gonna marry her anyway” he said shrugging.

Connie laughed “that’s what i’m talking about” while your mother said “yeah, marry that girl!”

your father looked stunned as he repeated her words “marry that girl ??”

ony nodded his head saying “yeah, no matter what you say” he stopped and looked down at the ring one more time before closing the box and looking back at your after and saying “I’m gonna marry that girl, and we’ll be a family.”

ouuu girl yo daddy was soo mad, and his own wife was going against his word?? that bald headed ahh man was pissed baby, nobody cared tho, he walked back into the house mumbling under his funky ahh breath.

but that’s alll i’m writing tdy if u read this thank youuu and i hope you liked it (ts was mad corny no cap 😂😂) oh well ty for reading i love youuu!! kisses 💋💋 ! ❦.

[allwaswell16]

A fic rec of One Direction fics where one character hates everyone but the other half of the pairing as requested in this ask. You can find part 1 of this rec here. You can find my other fic recs here. Please leave kudos and comments for the writers! Happy reading!

- Louis / Harry -

❤️ Saving You by Snowy38

(E, 90k, sex work) Harry is being bought by Louis not for the night but for good and his testing ways push Louis to the limit...

❤️ These High Walls by LarryAlways28

(E, 68k, omegaverse) He was the ideal son - until he presented as an Omega. Now, barely a year after his old man dropped dead and running the family company, if he makes a mistake with the Tomlinson and Sons merger and acquisition, it's game over.

❤️ go ahead, rip my heart out if that's what love's all about (series) by wildestdreams / @thelavendrhaze

(E, 40k, small town) Louis is the town troublemaker and everyone hates him except for Harry.

❤️ Hidden Gardens by pinky_heaven19

(M, 41k, friends to lovers) the one where Louis owns a pub and Harry is a photographer who needs his help for a project. Louis is grumpy, Harry is not. Louis has a secret. There is some pining and a lot of fluff.

❤️ You're Not My Type (still I fall) by Imogenlee / @imogenleewriter

(M, 38k, omegaverse) that was the same stubborn attitude that got him here: in his car, in a thunderstorm, on the side of a forsaken lane of some little countryside town in Yorkshire.

❤️ A Road To Something Better by @taggiecb

(E, 25k, small town) Louis Tomlinson, famous romance novelist, has just had the rug pulled out from under his feet when his boyfriend leaves him without notice. What's the most appropriate response to this? Move a thousand miles away and seclude himself in a tiny lake town, of course. 

❤️ Fate Had Other Plans by Snowy38

(E, 25k, Christmas) Louis Tomlinson books into a remote Ski Lodge in Austria to avoid everyone at Christmas. He is looking forward to his bah-humbug lonely Christmas when Harry Styles 'breaks into' his lodge and ruins his plans with his happy, sociable nature...

❤️ Behind Smoke Stained Curtains by @jaerie

(E, 19k, omegaverse) The worlds align when Louis meets an alpha from the road with as many secrets as he holds himself.

❤️ When You Know by @allwaswell16

(E, 17k, assassin Louis) Years of living in the shadows has taken its toll on Louis Tomlinson. When he’s offered a chance to leave behind his life as a hired assassin, he intends to take it.

❤️ Does it Ever Drive You Crazy? (Just How Fast the Night Changes) by xx_soup_xx

(G, 7k, Christmas) Baker Harry Styles takes it upon himself to get his mysterious grumpy customer, Louis Tomlinson, to like Christmas by taking him on a disastrous first date.

❤️ you cured my january blues (yeah you made it all alright) by writtensoul

(NR, 7k, pet store) louis is a lonely old soul with nothing to keep him company but his wild, albeit dry humor - and maybe the pretty boy who works at the pet store down the road. 

❤️ Good-Old Fashioned Lover Boy by not_fitzwilliam / @not-fitzwilliam-darcy

(NR, 5k, omegaverse) When a miscalculated decision leads to an accidental courtship with the sweetest, most gentle alpha, Harry is torn between breaking the alpha's heart and telling the truth. 

❤️ 'Sno(w) joke by SunTomato / @sun-tomato

(NR, 5k, library) The last thing Louis wanted was to get stranded on his birthday. But perhaps it was exactly what he needed.

❤️ i'll breathe your air into my lungs by blizzies

(T, 5k, high school) five phases of their relationship in a world where harry smokes a lot and skips school and hates everyone except his boyfriend and louis is in plays and is loved by everyone and they work even though nobody gets how.

❤️ The Bookshop by Humphrey

(NR, 4k, bookshop) Harry just wants to buy some books. Louis is a very rude bookshop owner.

❤️ Alone and Back Again by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(T, 4k, omegaverse) what does one do when a feral alpha shows up in town ready to be executed?

- Rare Pairs -

❤️ You Should Probably Stay (a Couple More Days) by transteverogers

(E, 8k, Zayn/Liam) Zayn is one of the top richest business owners in London but he's also one of the loneliest at just the age of 27. He's grumpy and serious all of the time at work, but when he get home he's sad and desperate for something or more like someone. 

❤️ Kind of Tough to Tell a Scruff (Stand and Deliver) by sunsetmog / @magicalrocketships

(M, 4k, Louis/Nick Grimshaw) In which Nick moves north and Louis lives next door.

[not-magdi]

-first kiss / pablo gavi

Warnings: None / sorry for any mistakes I'm too lazy to proofread it currently

Words: 1.3k

Reading Time: 5min 20 sec

A/N

I've had this in my drafts fo sooo long now it's unbelievable. But I'm done now so yeyyy!! Hope you enjoy it

Love you guys, Magdi

To celebrate Barça's win and Pablo's reappearance at the stadium today, Pedri invited the whole team to a get-together at his house after the game. And like every time Pablo got invited somewhere, he asked you to come with him as his plus one.  

You were always Pablo's plus one at any event, it didn't matter if it was a fancy gala or a simple team dinner, you were always by his side, and you never really gave it much thought. 

"Y/N, hurry up!" Pablo screamed from downstairs. You had to drive to Pedri's house as Pablo still wasn't allowed to, which meant he had been waiting for the last 30 minutes for you to get ready. 

"Jesus Christ! I'm comming, ok!" Adding the last bit of shimmer to your eyes, you make your way downstairs, completely missing the way Pablo's eyes nearly pop out as he sees you. 

You see. Pablo has been trying to muster up the courage to ask you out for about a year now, but every time he comes close to telling you, he chickens out. Because the last thing he wants is for a lifelong friendship to end just because of an immature crush. 

So, for the last year, all of your friends had to painfully watch how you two would pin after each other. Then, contrary to Pablo's belief, you weren't any better than him. The slight difference between you is that your crush has been going on since you were twelve. 

You managed to hide your feelings pretty well, or so you thought. The truth was everybody knew you liked Pablo except himself. Which was pretty confusing for everybody as you were "Looking at him with heart eyes," in Aurora's words. 

Anyways, back to now. After some slight arguing over what music you should play, you finally drove off. The car ride was silent, not an uncomfortable kind of silence, more a comforting kind. You were both recharging your social batteries again before meeting his teammates. 

Something you and Pablo have in common is not being the most talkative on the planet, you two prefer to be affectionate rather than talk someone's ear off.  

*Timeskip cause I'm lazyy* 

After arriving, Fermín dragged Pablo away, wanting to talk about "football stuff". You didn't mind it, knowing Pablo missed his teammates terribly, so you let him be, getting yourself something to drink and sitting down next to Pedri, who greeted you with a big smile.

"Y/n! It's so good to see you! How are you doing?" 

You fell into a relaxed conversation with Pedri about his season, how his brother is doing and many other things. You were finishing your fourth drink when Pedri bid his goodbye to find Ferran, you gave him a lazy smile and said bye. 

You start to feel the alcohol in your system and decide to look for Pablo. You haven't seen him since you arrived, and that was 3 hours ago. With a slight sway in your walk, you make your way around the house, trying to find him. 

You nearly gave up, wanting to call him instead, you saw him outside, sitting on a lounge chair with Fermín deep in conversation. Carefully opening the door, you step out, sneaking up behind Pablo to scare him.  

"Hey guys!" 

"Ahh ... Dios Y/N!" 

Pablo nearly falls out of his seat, screaming like a little girl. Fermín still sits in his chair, holding one hand to his chest, looking at you with a shocked face. You, on the other hand, nearly fall over laughing, holding onto the wall beside you. 

"Oh my god! Y-you guys should have seen your faces, hahah!" 

Sitting up again, Pablo looks at you with furrowed eyebrows, grumbling something under his breath. "Sometimes I wonder why I'm friends with you." 

Fermín starts to laugh when he sees your shocked expression. "Excuse me! I'm awesome!"  

Pablo raises his eyebrows at you and says nothing, his expression already tells you enough. 

You cuddle yourself next to Pablo on the lounge chair and throw your legs on Pablo's lap. Almost naturally, his hands find your legs and start to stroke them. 

You two completely miss how Fermín watches the whole scene with a knowing smile, too engrossed in each other to notice anything. 

------

It was currently half past twelve at night, and at some point, the topic of the conversation changed to first kisses. 

You now know that Fermín had his first kiss under the bleachers of their old training grounds as children. You laughed at him for the next ten minutes, asking if it could be even more cliché. 

"Okok, stop laughing. Was your first kiss any better?" You heard Fermín ask between your giggles. 

"How should I now. I never had one." You just blurted out casually. 

"What!!" Both men screamed in unison.

You were startled by their sudden exclamation nearly falling back with your chair. 

"Dios mio, what's wrong with you two?!" 

Fermín was the first one to find his voice again, "So you're telling me that you never kissed anybody in your entire life? Like ever?" 

Taking a sip of your beer, you answer, "Jep, never." 

Both men now look at you like they've seen a ghost, mouth hanging wide open, eyes staring into your soul. 

"Guys it's no big deal really, calm down." You couldn't contain your laughter any longer as you kept looking into their faces, they looked absolutely ridiculous. 

After a few minutes they calmed down again and the conversation flowed easily, well you and Fermín talked, Pablo kept quiet the whole time looking like he was lost in his own world. 

-----

After some time, Fermín left, mumbling something about being way too cold. You didn't pay him much attention your focus shifted to Pablo a long time ago. 

After Fermín left, there was silence between you and Pablo, not an uncomfortable one, more a comforting and calm one. 

"Is it true that you've never been kissed?" Pablo breaks the silence. 

"Yes, you idiot, why would I lie about something like this?" You laugh at his question.

"I don't know, the tequila scrambeled my brain." 

Giggling, you throw your legs over his and make yourself more comfortable. 

"You know, I've always imaged you would be my first kiss." 

You were talking so quietly Pablo thought he heard you wrong, but he realised quickly what you said and looked at you with a gaze you couldn't read. 

"Why did you never tell me?" 

"Well, what did you want me to say? Hi Pablo, nobody ever kissed me. And I know we have known each other since we were 5 but would you want to? Yeah right." 

"I would have ..." 

Looking up from your lap, you see his brown teddy bear eyes looking at you. 

"Wha-" 

"I would have kissed you." 

His tone and his expression told you he meant what he said. You didn't know if it was the alcohol or something else, but a wave of confidence hit you, which led you to ask him, "Would you also kiss me now?" 

Pablo said nothing but started to lean in, grabbing your chin with his hand and making you look into his eyes. 

"I would love to." He whispered before leaning in, softly connecting his lips with yours.

The feeling of Pablo's soft lips against yours was addicting. You never wanted it to stop, ever again.

Sadly, the lack of air in your lungs made you two pull away from each other, taking a deep breath while gazing into each other's eyes. 

"And, was that ok for your first kiss?" 

"Ok, it was magical!" You exclaimed, linking your hands behind his neck. 

"That's good because I was not planning to stop at one kiss. Is that ok with you?" 

A blush made its way onto your cheeks as you heard him say that, nodding you hide your burning cheeks in the crook of his neck. 

"Yeah, I'd really like that." 

"Good, then come here." 

-------

Don't forget to leave a note if you enjoyed it, feedback is always welcome !!! ❤️

[bluexphoria]

⤳ 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐃

pairing. modern!aegon targaryen x fem!reader

summary. an unlikely friendship born out of coincidences and choices neither of you would have ever made had it been any other time. but here you are and here he is. friends. even when you two should have been anything but. even when you two should have been nothing at all.

word count. 4.8k (this is long, sorry)

warnings. modern au. toxic friendship. addiction. drug use. alcohol use. cursing/swearing. bad language overall. unreliable narrator. aegon is bad but you are no better. extremely complicated friendship, the question "so what are we?" hangs over your head like a haunting ghost. reader has MAJOR mommy issues, yes i am is self projecting. Aegon has his fair share of issues with his family but really, nothing new. implied relapsing and implied threats of suicide (not by aegon or reader). Unrequited love (debatable). Possible grammar mistakes. oh and very reader centric.

notes. i'm gonna be honest guys, this is my first fanfic (probably also the last) and i'm genuine not sure about anything in this lmao (im having a panic attack) but anywayss this one is for you @fishyfables hope u like it <333

It's past midnight and you're parked somewhere, somewhere you don't even know. There is a man beside you, looking somewhere and seeing something that you don't see. There isn't a smile on his face, because you are alone, because he doesn't have to pretend.

He reaches for your seat belt, unbuckles it with experienced hands; his pretty, quick, and skilled fingers brush against your body. And he has lovely eyes, like a pair of amethyst carved into his eye socks and he looks at you in the way he shouldn't look at you.

Yet he always looks at you like this. Dazy, glossy, and desperate. You reach over and nod at him.

There is a man in your car, because it is past midnight and you are his friend, possibly his only real friend, the only one he can trust. Or so you like to think. Maybe it's because you are the only one who is sober enough to pick him up while his other friends are getting worse than him.

There is a man in your car, and then there is a man on top of you — leaning over your body, he caresses your cheeks and whispers how you should leave him (you can't leave him, he holds you too tight), how you can find better friends (he never allowed you to get close to any other people enough to know them and be friends) and how pretty you are, too pretty for him, too good (you are not. He doesn't know that you are not, because he doesn't want to know you. He likes the way you are in his imagination — untouchable, perfect, and flawless).

There is a man in your car, and you think he might just kiss you this time. He doesn't. He never does. Instead, he breaks down into tears, his hands slips from your cheeks to your shoulders and he buries himself to your chest, fucking up your shirt with tears and snot and whatever else he had his lips on that night. He apologizes, he always does, but you know better than those are not meant for you.

There is a man in your car, you drive him to his house, get him out of his dirty clothes and help him into a bath. You tuck him to his bed, and he begs you to stay with him.

You don't.

(Note that: he never means it.)

You met Aegon during the end of your first year at college.

It was a party that was thrown by your friend's friend's friend, or whatever. You hadn't have many plans for the night. Dress up and feel pretty, dance with your friends if you feel like it, have a drink or two (as always, you were the designated driver), and maybe hook up with someone. You deserved it, managing to pass most of your classes, you damn right you deserved it.

And most of the night went according to your plans. Except: him.

He was never a part of the plan. No sane person would ever include him in their plans.

He was standing over there, talking with a few boys, laughing the loudest. He looked…messy. You would learn that it was not an occasional thing but rather a consistency. He always looked out-of-place, wrongly put together.

And Aegon, with his messy silver hair and purple eyes adorned with dark circles under them, you knew him, or at least heard about him enough — who hadn't?

The son of the infamous Viserys Targaryen — a big guy with bigger money and a bigger name. Coming from old money, managing to adapt to the modern world and its technology and doubling or even tripling their wealth by getting into the business world. Companies, markets, whatever one could think of. Their name was branded on the boards, to places, hotels and channels. TargCo.

Oh yeah, you knew about him.

He was the biggest stain splat on the brand, golden name "Targaryen". Even if the family had their notorious members in the past, Aegon outdid them in his short span of twenty years of life. Scandals after scandals, his face on the news and papers; his name falling from everyone's mouth.

His name was almost like a legend; one that a mother would tell their child as a bedtime story, a scary story, to make sure their child would stay away from things and behave.

He wasn't around the campus much, maybe a few times you recalled your friends talking about him, about seeing him. He didn't need to attend to pass the classes. He just needed to make sure to call the right person, or make the right person to call the dean. Whatever he was doing, it worked.

That piece of shit.

You had to admit that at least one week (especially during the finals week), you cursed his name so much that if god was real, Aegon would have been miserable by now, if not dead.

But he seemed happy. That night, he seemed happy. And he was laughing, loudly, unashamedly that you didn't doubt it. (You would learn that Aegon had never been genuinely happy, not once in his life, but he always seemed like it.)

And most of all, he looked human. That's what irritated you that night.

He looked so approachable, so like any other guy, so attainable, so easy to reach.

So you did. You walked up to him — a faint smile, little laughs, touches on the shoulder, having a few shots together, whispers in the ear, legs brushing each other and that was it. The next thing you knew, he had his hand on your waist, leading you to one of the unoccupied rooms, stumbling with his steps, complimenting you or your dress or your make up — you didn't remember much, honestly. You didn't really care enough to listen, knowing that most of them were memorized and overused words that each girl who gave him just the right amount of attention heard.

It was never supposed to be a friendship. It really wasn't. You just had to have what you heard so much about from girls who got into his bed and then fuck off and regret it in the morning and forget about it completely in a month.

And you were close to getting what you wanted — everything seemed as it was supposed to be. A drunk boy and a drunk girl (no longer the designated driver), in a room during a frat party, both wanting the same thing.

His hands under your dress, his mouth on yours. You wanted to bite his lip, dig your teeth into the pink flesh and draw blood. You never knew why. You just didn't like him enough to hurt him but also mark him but mostly hurt him and maybe more so to make him remember you in the morning when he looks at the mirror.

You held back. (You usually do.)

His touch was greedy, that you remember impeccably. He was taking more than he was giving.

And then his phone rang. Once, twice, three times and until he couldn't ignore anymore. Until he had to groan and pull away from the kiss, muttering an excuse under his breath ("give me a second") and turning his back to you.

You remember the frustration you felt, wondering if there was something wrong with him or maybe something wrong with you because you did wait, you sat on the bed, looking at the chaotic room and waiting for him to finish his phone call in the hallway and return to you. You were drunk and determined and horny, and so you would finish what you started.

You didn't.

He returned, but his hands were shaking, his steps more miscalculated as his chest heaving with loud gasps. His eyes were red, his look was unfocused. And now looking back at it, you are sure that for a moment he had completely forgotten about you and your presence in the room.

And if you hadn't gone to his assistance when he suddenly began puking out everything he drank, perhaps he wouldn't even remember you. That would be a better outcome; he would just vomit and get up and maybe go into the shower and you would sneak out like you had never been there, like you were merely a ghost.

But you helped him. You held him, wiped his mouth when he was done, carried him to the bathroom to clean his face and offered to give him a ride home.

Unfortunately, he agreed.

Though, you didn't drive. You were in no right mind to hold a wheel. You called a cab and for some reason, you went with him. You two sat at the backseat, his head laid on your lap, your fingers gently playing with his hair and he was telling you about the things you should have never heard.

About his mum — the unexpected caller. About his dad, which came out of nowhere. About his childhood, and even about his brother for some reason. And he had a half-sister. His family was huge, which was known by everyone who knew him or knew the name Targaryen.

But Aegon had no family. He never did. That was the secret.

And he told you more, more than you wanted to hear, less than he actually wanted to tell someone.

And you held him. You didn't let go, through the whole ride to his place because of course he had his own place during college years. And you didn't let go when you helped him through the steps, and then into his shower, then to his bed. And he pulled you in. He had your hands and you didn't let go.

Or, he didn't let go. It was hard to tell.

There are stories in you that you wish to take it to the grave; or even better, forget it all. Most of them are not even yours.

Like the one time when your mother confessed that she had never wanted this, neither wanted you. How she was once your age, how she wanted to be more, to have more, to live more — and how she almost made it out. But then she had you. And she cried. She was drunk, you weren't. She held you; hands like clamps, dug around your flesh, almost bruising but bruising like lovemaking. You tucked her tight but never left the room.

Like the time when you heard your friend talking to her girlfriend on the phone, begging, pleading to take her back. ("I didn't mean to, honey. I promise — I promise! I was good! I was doing good! Please come back, I'll do better. I'll get clean again — swear, I swear, I will, please! No you can't! Fuck you! Fuck you for leaving me! You are no fucking different than the rest! Fuck you! You know what, I'm gonna fucking do it! You'll regret it, you'll miss me but I won't be there, you ungrateful—") Then a big crashing sound, you recognized it immediately; something thrown at the wall. Her phone, mostly. And then herself. You changed your mind from knocking, you forgot what you were there for in the first place.

And there are times when… When Aegon.

Just Aegon. On the passenger seat, or on a couch, sometimes in his bed, sometimes in your bed. He is mostly drunk or sometimes high, occasionally both.

He holds you, and you hold him. His lips on your skin, and your hands under his shirt. He whispers.

You deserve better.

I love you.

You are my best friend.

You are my only friend.

You deserve better.

You never reply. There is no better. Because it is never about him, the problem is never him. You will never find yourself where you should be because you don't know where that is.

But he is familiar.

He stinks of alcohol, he cries a lot, he admits things he could never say to someone else while holding onto you, and he never remembers anything the next day. (You do. Oh you do.) He touches you and kisses you and it doesn't mean anything. There is no love in his affection; it's not about you, it's about him. He needs this. He needs someone; someone to listen to him, someone to carry him home, someone to understand him, someone to not judge him, someone to be there.

You can't be you but you can be someone. That is familiar too.

And he doesn't love you.

Not even when he pulls you to himself as if he wants to bury himself in you and hide there forever, not even when he begs you to fix him, not even when he takes you with him to wherever he goes because you have to be there to pick up the pieces, not even when he tells you how much he loves you, and how glad he is to have you in his life. And that is the most familiar; that is what you know the best.

He doesn't love you.

And your mother didn't love you.

And sometimes there is a fear that maybe you don't either.

(Note that: he is not what you are searching for.)

(Note that: he is everything you will ever search for.)

"Y'know, there is still time for us to make a U-turn…"

He laughs, shaking his head as he changes the song. First mistake was to let him pick the music.

No, the first mistake was to ever agreeing to this.

"Stop complaining. They are not exactly the best parents out there, but they are…hospitable people," Aegon grins.

You sigh, fingers tapping on the wheel as you try to keep your focus on the road. You are his unofficial driver, yes, ever since he managed to crush the last car he had while drunk driving and his father refused to buy him a new one to teach him a lesson.

Maybe that's why he keeps you around, who knows.

"I don't know, Aeg," you begin, your eyes darting between the road and him. He is leaning his shoulder against the window, whistling a melody that doesn't rhyme with the song. "After spending two years listening to you bitch about your family, I'm not sure if I can pretend to like them to their faces."

"'Course you can!" He amuses, flashing that full tooth grin at you as always. "You are the best liar I know."

"Oh fuck off," you roll your eyes. You don't exactly understand what he tries to say, or where he is coming from, but you are sure it is probably about any time you lied to your professors or your other friends.

You smirk faintly, turning to him for a moment. "You look good today, by the way."

Now, he is the one rolling his eyes. He slaps your shoulder, huffing like a child.

It always satisfies you to wipe that stupid grin off of his face. It is a victory.

One that maybe a friend shouldn't enjoy.

"Yeah, yeah. Keep that up, pretty, and I'm sure you'll get along with my family no time," he mutters, scoffing before changing the song again. He really can't commit to anything, always getting bored too quickly and always gives up half the way.

The rest of the ride goes quickly. Aegon sings along with the annoying songs he always picks, only the ones he knows you hate but you're too deep in your head to be as irritated as usual.

You don't know why he invited you to meet his family. Really. You don't even know why he accepted to see them and didn't make an excuse to skip a get-together like he usually does.

Maybe his father has gotten worse. But from what you know, Viserys has never, ever, been good. And Aegon pretends good enough for you to sometimes think that he wouldn't show up to his father's funeral when the day comes.

Maybe it's about his mother, and whatever complicated relationship they have going on. Because he never has the guts to loudly reject her, for some reason, despite always complaining about Alicent to you.

Or maybe he missed his family…

…

Yeah no, not that. For sure.

Whatever it was, he asked you to drive him. And when you said that he could just take a flight or a bus, he rolled his eyes.

"It would be a waste of money to buy two seats when you already have a car."

First of all, he was rich, so fuck him for complaining about money. And second of all, he didn't even ask you if you wanted to come. You had to. He decided this was the time you would finally meet the Targaryens.

And well, you don't have anything better to do that week, so…

You are driving and he is in the passenger seat, which is basically now his seat. The drive had been hours long and it really isn't that enjoyable to spend hours stuck in a limited space with your best friend where you can't take a moment to get out and clear your head to recharge because while you love him, absolutely and completely, he is too much sometimes.

When you finally see the trees that adorn the huge garden of the estate — of course they own a family estate and possibly more than one — you let out a relieved breath.

"Here it is! Chateaux de Targaryen!" Aegon exclaims beside you and you can't help but laugh. Just a little. "C'mon! You're going to hate it here! Let's go."

You've always imagined Alicent Targaryen as a cold woman — no flinch, no smile, hardened eyes and rough hands. You don't know why. (You do. It's Aegon. It's always Aegon.)

But she is…nothing like that. She is gentle, in a way that throws you off. Gentleness seems so misplaced, so unfit on her. She is a woman made to rage, but she looks so faint, like a lingering ghost that is never ready to finally let go.

It's hard to imagine her as cruel as her son depicts. But then again, you are not her son. She is not your mother. There must be a difference.

She is a hospitable though, as Aegon promised. She makes good small talk but not too friendly. She makes sure to act curious about your life and she reacts to everything you tell her.

Viserys is not that bad either. He is… he is barely there. You haven't gotten a chance to talk to him, only saw him from afar while his wife helped him to walk in the gardens. He looks dead, with a smile and sad eyes.

Unlike Alicent, he seems eager to let go.

It's Aegon's brother that lights the bub above your head. You understand the hesitation why Aegon never wants to come home.

Aemond is perfect. There is no other word to describe him. He is handsome, respectful, well-mannered, confident, talks just enough, listens just enough, laughs just enough. Even his flaws, like the eye patch and the mocking smirk or the belittling look he throws at Aegon from time to time seems to add to his charm.

The difference is, Aemond is loved. By the house workers, by Helaena's kids, by the guests and distant family members and most importantly, by Alicent. She is proud of him and it is too easy to tell.

And you can see the green envy filling your best friend's eyes whenever Alicent pats Aemond's shoulder, praises him on his studies or whatever he has done because he does everything perfectly, gentle forehead kisses Alicent gives him whenever she stands up from the table… None of that you have seen received by Aegon.

And that is when you understand— truly understand Aegon.

And your hand finds his under the table, giving him a squeeze and he returns it. Your eyes meet and you nod at him.

I'm here.

I'm here.

That's why you are there. That's why he had taken you with him. That's why he takes you everywhere.

You don't talk much, you don't smile a lot but you have hands and that's enough for Aegon. That's all he needs. Limbs to wrap around him, skin to warm his flesh, a warm breath to feel against his to remind him that you are there — and he's there too.

He exists, he is there, he is seen, he exists.

(Note that: sometimes you are just hands.)

He sneaks into your room (the guest room) when everyone has gone to bed. You are awake, you are waiting for him.

You greet him with an eye roll and he ignores it. He takes you out of the room, both of you walking on tiptoes as he takes you somewhere only he knows — and now you too. He makes sure to stop by the kitchen to 'borrow' a bottle of wine, of course.

The house estate is surrounded by woods that look like shadows tangled after midnight. You complain about the chilly weather and he doesn't give you his jacket ("And why didn't you bring yours?") but he wraps his arm around you, pulling you to his side as you walk.

There is a big rock deep in the woods, enough for four people to sit on and there is a small opening encircling it.

"I used to sneak out to here. I found it when I was like — nine, ten, or something, maybe even twelve," he says as he holds your hand and pulls you to his side to sit down.

You hum. "How did you find it?"

He pauses, one second, two, three and then shrugs. "I ran away. Tried to."

Nine or ten, maybe twelve and he had already tried to run away. It's no big surprise that he turned out this way.

You don't say anything, you know he doesn't need you to even though he might have preferred if you did.

And so, he continues.

"I don't know what I was thinking. I just, I think I had a fight with mum and ended up slamming the door which made her furious. I remember screaming my first swear word to her and I immediately regretted it. Then I just…left. I don't know. Maybe I thought that if they couldn't find me for a day or two, they would be so worried that they would forget they were even mad in the first place. It seemed smart."

"It wasn't."

"I was seven. I didn't need to be smart."

You don't comment on the slip up.

Aegon sighs and reaches for your hand, intertwining your fingers. His grip is a little too tight, so you hold him tighter.

"I spent a night and a half, waiting for them to find me. I was sitting on this rock, waiting and waiting. They didn't. And I was hungry, and thirsty so I went back." Another pause, a squeeze. "They were even more furious than I had left them. That was the first time my mother had ever raised her hand to me. It wasn't the last."

You lean your head against him, giving him a nod to make sure he knows that you're listening. Your full attention is on him.

"They asked me where I had been, I didn't tell them. Just that I got lost. It was supposed to be a one time thing. But I kept coming back here whenever I felt like I wanted to escape. Each time, I returned."

There is a moment of silence, and neither of you don't know how to fill it. There's no stars in the sky, and there's no one in the woods but somehow, being here makes you lighter. Like this was a place cut out from the rest of the world, a planet on its own, where humanity was no longer any of your business, where you didn't have to worry about tomorrow.

"What are you escaping from tonight?" You finally ask.

He turns to you, and there's a curl of his lips. It's not a grin, not a smirk. Just a smile.

"Nothing," he says, and you think he might just be honest this time. "I just wanted to show you."

You have a doubt that it was that, just that.

Yes, maybe he wanted to just show you. Maybe he wanted someone to finally know where to find him the next time he escapes.

Maybe, for once, Aegon wanted to be found.

Or maybe, it was all he ever wanted.

Aegon doesn't know love very well, but he knows you.

More than you think he does, he's sure. And you know him, just less than you think you do.

He knows that you didn't have to take care of him that night, the night you met at the party. But you did. And he knew when he woke up in the morning finding you beside him, both of you fully clothed and one arm around his body, he just knew.

This might be just what he has been searching for.

And everyone thinks Aegon is a lazy bastard but he isn't, not when he wants something.

If he wants something, there's no god or fate that would stop him from getting it.

He had sought you out on the campus the next day, and the rest of them. He has never been the one to show up, but he wanted to see you and you were there. Though, it didn't stick. The moment he had convinced you to hang out after your classes, go to parties with him or just stay in his place, he stopped showing up on the campus regularly.

The night at the party, he knew you wanted to sleep with him, and believe me, god, he wanted the same. But it never happened, it just didn't.

Maybe seeing him in tears or wiping the vomit off his mouth had just ruined the mood for you or ruined the magic, but you never tried to cross that line again and for some reason, he didn't either. It just didn't feel the same again.

But he likes talking and you are a good listener. You make good coffee, even though he never liked it before he tasted yours and you both don't like sleeping that much. Countless nights spent with him and you, side by side, resting on his bed or just sitting outside or somewhere, talking and laughing and doing…human things. Bonding, chatting, getting to know each other, being honest, with no expectations, no promises — only "So this is me. Do you take it?" And the silence followed after, and silence had never been a rejection.

It is almost pathetic how unfamiliar he was with the concept until he met you.

If he is being honest, he still finds you attractive. Of course you are. He thinks you are charming; and whatever he needs, you find a way to give it to him. He doubts himself sometimes, wondering if he had ever returned the favor. But you are still there, and you probably will be there and does the rest matter?

He is sure that this is love, at least in one form or some.

You are, for him.

But he knows you. He knows that whatever you feel for him is not what he wants you to feel. And he knows that what you see when you look at him will never be what he wants to show you. And he knows that in your eyes, he will always be the teary eyed, stumbling, wreck of a boy you met.

He wants your touch, because maybe if you feel his skin, feel the warmth, it might just melt the ice around your sheltered heart. And if he gives you everything you don't get from anyone else, maybe you will let him in. He speaks in flesh, in bones and lips and fingers and nails — and you speak in a language he didn't know it existed.

You don't speak at all.

You are his best friend, he is not yours. He doubts you have anyone else either. You are not made for people, you are not made to be known.

You see, but are never seen; you hear, but are never heard.

But you love him, you might be the only one who does. And he doesn't care if it's not the way he needs to be loved. It's what he gets, it's fine. It's better than nothing.

Sure, it could have been more, had you let him in — he could have shown you how greatly, abundantly, exceedingly one can be loved that it will feel like drowning (choking). And you could have shown him what he taught you, maybe.

But you two don't know how to speak to each other; you only know how to exist, and you manage to do it together. Maybe that's enough.

Surely, it's more than he deserves.

So he doesn't ask for more.

He is sure you wouldn't know how even if he had asked.

(Note that: both of you think you know the other better)

(Note that: neither of you know the other.)