#i need to think about what each piercing would do. the ones in the ears are kind of easy to think about their function but

[oneroomjestershow]

inspired by these memes about next year (im still on 2024 help) i want to show this AU i have been thinking since month ago in the sidelines

[arminsumi]

tattoartist!suguru losing nonchalance when reader flirts with him?

im down bad for him holy hell

Oh, he's falling to pieces, got it bad for the girl he just met 'n he's gonna make a drunk little bet — y'think he's crazy enough to get your name tattooed on him? Or crazy enough to ink his name into your skin?

ㅤ★ wc; ~3k

ㅤ★ note; continuation of tattoo artist Suguru Geto!

ㅤ★ an; aaa!! you got my brain whirring like a laptop... tysm and i hope this makes u blush and kick ur feet as much as i did while writing!! 🍰✨

ㅤ★ tagz; @ohimsummer 💗@fairiesthrum💗 @heartofjasmina 💗 @kwonan 💗 @ghost-buddies 💗 @madamecorbie 💗 @mima0127 💗 @moggleatlife 💗 @natasaa13 💗 @yemmuishomeforthementallyunwell 💗 @wakashudou 💗 @khaothick 💗 @candy-s72 💗 @creamflix 💗 @starriesworlds

ㅤ★ warnings; sum alcohol/drunkenness

“So, was she joking, or am I your type?” Suguru asks, black eyes staring right into your soul.

“Mm, well…” you hum, giving his form a look-over – god, if only you could feel how hard his heart’s beating when you do this. “Maybe.” You reply teasingly.

“Aw, just ‘maybe’?” he groans, now leaning his hip against the edge of the display case that housed the studs and gauge earrings.

“Yeah, just ‘maybe’ – I’m teasing. No, she wasn’t joking; I’ve always had a thing for the black hair, black nails, bad boy look…”

“The ‘bad boy’ look…?” he questions, recalling what your friend had said earlier about bad boys being just your type.

“Yeah, the ‘bad boy’ look.” You giggle.

His heart beats even harder, muttering a naughty little “Well, lucky me.”

“Nah, not so fast – I’m a smart woman.” You warn.

“Oh, are you?” he clicks his tongue in defeat, “Damn, would you believe that my type is smart women? No, no I’m serious… I’ve got a thing for smart women.”

Your cheeks grow hot, the heat spreading to your ears.

“I can assure you that the ‘bad boy’ look is just an aesthetic; I’m really an artsy dork making a living off doodling on people’s bodies.” He shrugs.

“Hm… maybe, maybe not.”

You rub your lips together. He briefly licks his bottom lip. You look him up and down. He looks you up and down. Body language open and alive with attraction, the both of you stand in this air of electric tension that Shoko spies from the other end of the room.

She watches as the two of you giggle like little flirts, observing how totally absorbed the two of you are in each other’s company. When you catch her eye, Shoko gives you a wink and points at her wrist, mouthing “five more” – fair enough, the two of you have promised to get pizza.

Pizza first, boys later, right?

Five minutes more go by – adding to the total of four hours spent at the tattoo & piercing parlor. But despite her discomfort and need for a change of scenery, Shoko decides to linger around just a little longer so that the two of you can indulge in each other just a little more.

But now you're getting nervous – Suguru has you breathless, holding you in a battle of who can flirt harder? which you're starting to lose.

He's captivated by you. This 6’3, tattooed, goth-grunge, slightly dorky man chuckles and smiles like he hasn’t had this much fun talking flirting with someone in years.

It's going well, then your smile trips him up. I know, it’s always the smile, huh? If you see enough of it, you slip… and that’s exactly what's happened to Suguru. He quickly grows obsessed with the way your cheeks look when you smile – the image burns into his memory without him even realizing it in the moment.

No, in the moment he doesn't realize the magnitude of your effect on him. He's just thinking about himself, about you, about —

“I’ve gotta go,” you say goodbye finally, “I don’t want to keep my friend waiting. But you’ll probably see my face here again… she loves dragging me along for these kinds of things.”

He stutters, “Oh! Oh… yeah – yes. Of course. Looking forward to it… maybe next time, you’ll be the one getting ink in your skin.”

“Yeah right.” You smile.

It’s your French exit that makes his heart throb in need.

No, don’t leave yet… I like you – don’t you ever wonder how many acquaintances in your life have thought this when leaving your company? And you’ll never even know.

Oh, Suguru was thinking so hard about asking you to exchange numbers or to meet up for coffee, but he didn’t want to come off as too forward – no, no… he had to maintain his mysteriousness. Or at least, he had to cling to whatever was left of it after revealing his inner dorkiness to you.

*****

After you leave, he wanders in and out of his studio, has small interactions with his co-workers, and doodles ideas for tattoos down.

Throughout all of these things, your face is at the forefront of his mind. Your voice echoes in his head as he recalls every detail of the conversation you two shared. Then he starts smiling softly as he applauds himself for being so gutsily flirty with you… a stranger, just someone, who he probably won’t see again…

A girl with no name.

God, why was he so slow? He didn’t even ask for your name. Suguru groans.

Yes, he probably won’t see you again… not unless your friend brings you along for her next visit. How long does he have to wait? Weeks? Months? That’s insane.

Suguru stops doodling, stares at the scrap of paper, and then looks up at the wall displaying his works. He rubs his fingers back and forth across his mouth.

I gotta.

He looks over to his phone. He reaches for it, takes it into his veiny hand, unlocks it, and scrolls through his list of contacts.

And then he dials his client’s number. Shoko Ieri.

*****

Now, it’s been just under an hour since you and Shoko left the tattoo parlour. She’s complained three times about the pain because exactly three times she has leaned back on the seat – squishing the fresh ink wound against her chair. You just cruelly laugh at how her eyes twitch in pain and each time.

The two of you sit eating pizza.

“He liked you. Why don’t we go back and you ask him for his number?” she teases.

“No way… he’ll think I’m too forward.” You shake your head.

Then three minutes later, Shoko's phone goes off. She reaches into her backpack. She looks at the caller ID, then at you, then at the caller ID, then –

“… is that him?”

“It’s him.”

“What’s he calling for! Me?”

“Absolutely he’s calling for you – I can bet gold on that.”

It stops ringing. She tells you she’ll text him back but guess what? She doesn’t even need to, because he calls again.

“Relentless.” She giggles. “I’m answering.”

“Pretend I’m not here!”

She winks at you and answers, “Hey, Suguru, what’s up?”

The two of you lean in until your foreheads press together – it’s still hard to make out every word.

“Yo.” You hear his smooth voice coming from the other side, “Sorry to bother you… (muffled)… your friend (muffled)… so embarrassed, so don’t tell her that I’m calling… (muffled)… what was her name?”

You clap your hand over your mouth when you hear those snippets.

She gives you a devious look before saying, “Oh! Well, she’s right here with me, actually, so you can ask her yourself.”

Mouth full of pizza, you freak out and X your arms to signal a fat NO WAY SHOKO! and fall to pieces all with the taste of pepperoni on your tongue.

But she just hands the phone over to you anyways, then proceeds to silently laugh as you spit out your pizza before talking.

“Hehlooo?”

“H-hey.”

You get right to the point. “My name’s Yn…”

“Oh… I like that… I’m Suguru.”

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”

“Suguru. Suguru Geto.” He raises his voice.

Cheek hot against the screen of his phone, Suguru is silently freaking out at the tense silence. He can feel his stomach starting to flip. His mind blanks.

“Anyways! Um, that’s all.”

No. That’s not all. He has a novel’s length worth of things to talk about with you.

At this point, Shoko rolls her eyes at the two of you being so awkward on the phone and decides that she needs to take matters into her own hands.

So she snatches the phone from you.

“ – Suguru? Say, you wouldn’t be free on Saturday, would ya? Yeah, I’m going on a date with this guy… and I’d love to make it a double date with you and Yn if you’d like to –”

You hear him stutter out a yes, absolutely before Shoko can even finish her sentence. She grins.

Suguru can sense that the two of you are smiling and giggling. He can predict that the two of you are probably going to gossip about him being the 'dork from the tattoo parlor that called not once, but twice for the name of a girl he just met' – but he doesn’t care. He’s been presented an opportunity and taken it.

To hell with seeming too eager.

When the call ends, Suguru blows out a breath through his lips. Then he promptly texts his best friend. Dark strands of hair slip out of his sloppy bun as he puts his face over the screen, thumbs swift and eager.

Toru 🤞😜 lol bravo... but i thought u said she was out of ur league??

Sugu i mean... yes. she's way too pretty and smart for me. but i'm not gonna pass up this opportunity

Toru 🤞😜 still can't believe u called ur client just to get her friend’s name... lol

Sugu you would understand if you met her ok

Toru 🤞😜 damn she must be something else

Yes, yes you are something else — Suguru can’t even begin to describe why. Translating his thoughts into words isn’t his thing; he translates them into art.

****

It's later in the day. You're lazing around Shoko's apartment.

She confirms the time and place of the double date, and cackles on her couch while kicking her feet, teasing you for being so crazy about a guy you just met – her tattoo artist.

You just couldn’t stop talking about Geto Suguru.

“Shiiit, should I even let you and a bad boy like him be alone in a room together?”

“I can control myself.” you assure her.

She slowly shakes her head at you.

“Yeah right… but can he? I don't trust neither of you... miss crazy and mister crazy... you might just wake up with his name in your skin.”

You giggle to yourself, biting your thumb. “Maybe…”

“Oh girl…” she groans, causing you to giggle into yourself, “You’re gonna be licking the tail of his dragon tattoo by the end of the date tomorrow.”

“H-h-he has a what? And where?” you stuttered, lashes quivering.

She shakes her head at you. “God, you’re screwed…”

*****

It's Saturday night. The bar's more alive than ever.

You've learned that Geto Suguru does, in fact, have a dragon tattoo inked up his toned arm – and a tight-fitting black tank top that shows it off along with his martial artist’s physique, too.

He’s got a glint of the devil in his black eyes. Softly-delivered dirty jokes ready to roll off his pierced tongue. A habit of tilting his head and looking hungrily at your lips and neck.

“Martial arts, huh?” you ask with stars in your eyes.

“Mhm, I could teach you a few things.” He purrs in reply.

Your stomach starts squeezing and flipping – that’s got to be the flirtiest 'mhm' that you’ve ever heard in your whole life.

“You think so?” you purr back.

Now it’s his turn to feel that squeezy, flippy feeling in his stomach.

Fuckfuckfuck is all he could think when he looks into your eyes.

I’m gonna fall to pieces. You’re gonna be the death of me.

“Uh…  do you two need some privacy?” Shoko teases.

Oh. It’s a double date. How could you forget? Shoko is literally sitting beside you at the bar with her date. But for a second there, it really felt like it was just you 'n this deliciously tattooed bad boy.

“Maybe.” Suguru chuckles coyly.

“There’s a hotel just next door…”

“Shoko!” you scold, playfully shoving her arm.

She giggles into herself, sipping down her cocktail innocently as if she didn’t just electrify the air between you and Suguru. His throat’s tensing, foot’s tapping up and down on the bar stool – boy’s got long spider-legs, huh?

Now after that, Suguru grins wider – showing off his pretty canines – his posture assuming something self-soothing; he holds his elbows, arms squished against his ribcage, which just makes his biceps more pronounced. Oh why, why did he have to wear a tank top like that? Surely he’s aware of the effect it has on girls. Or maybe he’s oblivious…

Nah. He's not.

*****

“Did it hurt?” you ask, trying to blink out the tipsiness from your love-drunk eyes but you’ve got three cosmopolitans surging through your veins.

“Not really… I’ve got great pain tolerance.” Suguru replies.

“Oh really?” you blink up at him again and his mind goes blank.

“Look at that...” He murmurs softly, not breaking eye contact with you. Where’s your friend and her date? Who knows. It’s just you and him now – and that’s all he wanted.

“Hm?”

“Not every day I see eyes like that…”

You widen your lips into a smile, “You’re laying it on thick.”

“Am I? Sorry – see, this is what happens after you feed Suguru too much rum. I just can’t keep my mouth shut.”

“That’s terrible… need someone to shut ya up?” you flirt.

He tilts his head at you, loose strands of hair shifting across his cheek. His left brow quirks up – he’s so taken aback by your forwardness but he falls right into it.

You just giggle flirtatiously after making that comment and pull the straw of your drink between your lips, sucking the remnants of a cosmopolitan into your mouth as sensually as you dare to in front of a bad boy who’s got bedroom eyes on you.

“I think I could do with some shutting up…” he admits.

“Mm,” you hum, “y’think by our third date you’re gonna snap and kiss me hard like we’re in a movie?”

Suguru smiles bashfully and looks down into his drink, swirling the melting ice cubes with a straw – slowly, round and round, they clink. Then he draws his gaze back to you, catching you with a sultry side-eye, and now it’s not just the ice cubes that are melting.

“Nah-uh…”

“Nah-uh?” you question.

“… I think it’s you who’s gonna snap first.” He says.

“Wanna bet?” you tease.

“Sure. What’ll be at stake?” he asks.

He keeps his sultry gaze on you as you look off to the side in thought for a moment. Your friend’s joke echoes in your mind.

“… you might just wake up with his name in your skin.”

Then you look back to him – his heart throbs but he’s trying to keep it together here, pulling his straw to his lips to get a sip of whatever rum still exists in his glass.

“Loser gets a regrettable tattoo?” you suggest.

He looks at you with a little bit of disbelief at your boldness.

“How regrettable?” he questions, one eye squinting shut in suspicion. He's wondering just how wild you actually are.

“Like my name on you? Or vice versa.”

He covers his mouth and lets out a chuckle hearing this. “You want me to tattoo my name on ya skin?” he teases. “Sure, I’ll bet on that.”

You can’t believe that he’s matching your crazy.

You stutter, replying only after a lingering moment of hot eye contact, “… there’s no way I’m gonna snap first…” you say boldly, proceeding to pop the cherry of your drink into your mouth and eating it right in front of the poor boy’s eyes. “ ‘m gonna have you walkin’ around with my name on you.”

Eyes glued on your lips, his breath catches in his throat.

“Yeah?”

Ooh, there it was. That feeling. That body singing electric songs feeling… that tummy-tightening, blood-rushing, skin-flushing feeling – it hit him all at once. He knows that if he were standing, his knees would have buckled now for sure, or at least he would have felt the tremor of your words under his feet.

He’s unsteady – smiling uncontrollably, looking dishevelled and softly drunk. Those rouge lips are begging to be kissed.

The bar grows quieter and quieter.

You’re hardly able to call each other anything more than strangers, and yet you’re leaning into him, closing the distance.

The tips of your noses are just inches apart now. You’re in each other’s air. He eyes out your lips, feels your hot, liquor-scented breath tickle his face.

But when you try and close the distance, he raises his hand and presses his thumb against your soft lips, stopping you.

“What happened to that bold statement, huh? Keep it together, baby; the bet’s on.” He feathers against your face.

*****

Tumbling into Shoko’s apartment after a night out drinking, you smile and giggle into the pillows of her bed.

She’s letting her hair down and swapping out her tight dress for jammies when she looks at you in your gleeful state.

“Someone’s in love.” She teases, coming over to tickle you.

“I’m not in love!”

“Oh, quit the act; I saw how the two of you said goodbye – you could barely hold yourself together. Drunk or not, I ain’t seen two adults giggling like that before.”

“Sh!” you swat her, “Not! In! Love!”

She takes a look into your eyes and observes your smile, then shakes her head. You're drowsy, so you make a dive into her bed and fall asleep almost instantly.

Shoko pulls a blanket over you, affectionately ruffling your hair.

“Madly in love, at the very least.”

[januaryembrs]

BLACK CAT GIRLFRIEND | Spencer Reid x reader

request: Hey Congratulations on the 2K! Do you think you could write something with Spencer Reid and a Reader who has lots of tattoos and/or piercings? Like she's the whole "bad girl" stereotype but Spencer and her complement each other so well and have a very sweet and mature relationship. I would love something like that.

description: the team meet Spencer's new girlfriend and she doesn't look quite like they'd imagined

word count: 1.1k

main masterlist

authors note: I officially hit 2k followers this morning!! see my post here for requesting but lets start this milestone off with a bang!! thankyou so much :))))))

Morgan had to admit, you weren’t exactly what he’d envisioned when Pretty Boy had been talking his ear off for months about the girl in his apartment building that had slipped him your number. He wasn’t judgemental, not by a longshot, but Spencer had always seemed like the type to date the preppy, library geek, or even the cutesy geneticist if Maeve had been anything to go off of. 

It’s not like you weren’t hot, he could see that you were a mile away, but you looked like you’d sooner break someone’s wrist for so much as talking to you than fall for their resident genius. 

You smiled tightly, shaking Derek’s hand with a crushing grip, as Spencer introduced you to his team, the obnoxiously loud bass almost drowning out his words as the six of you stood in the bar. 

“Nice to meet you, Spencer talks about you all the time,” You said politely, and no sooner had you let go of the man’s warm hand, two arms were thrown over your shoulders and you were tugged into a hug. 

“I’m Penelope- oh you’re so pretty, Morgan isn’t she so pretty? You should marry Spencer then you can be boyfriend girlfriend for, like, life-” The perky voice was all a jumble as the blonde pulled away, cupping your face, rubbing down your arms kindly, sweetly, like you were swallowing a warm spoon of honey. 

“Penelope, newbie rules, remember,” Emily chimed in, seeing your eyes widen at the sudden intrusion of personal space. She could see this ending with the pretty pink bows Garcia had plaited her hair in torn to shreds on the sticky floor, right next to her long barbie locks if your intimidating figure was anything to go off, “Not everyone likes hugs,”

“No, no,” You replied, smiling gently at the woman who was softer than cotton candy, “Hugs are nice,” 

“We’re going to be very best friends, I can feel it, which is funny because my tarot actually said I’d meet a strong Taurus woman- or are you a Scorpio-” Penny’s smile was dazzling, but she was soon ushered to let go of the bear like grip she had on your shoulders by a chuckling Morgan.

“Let the other kids play with her, babygirl,” He said, and you were pulled in another direction towards Emily who gave a polite handshake. 

“Nice ink,” She said with raised brows as she saw the intricate sketches that covered the back of your hands, trailing up your arm and under the band tee you wore. She knew who they were, though they only dragged up memories of her own days of thick eyeliner and rebelling against her mother. “They must have hurt like a bitch, I got one on my hip and could barely sit for one hour,” 

You snickered, nodding, seeing her eyes trailing over the ones on your ankles and knees where your ripped jeans flashed them all. 

“Bones hurt the most, though the one on my ass is up there for the worst ones,” You replied, and Penny’s brows shot into her hairline, though she giggled like a schoolgirl being told a secret.

“I think we’re gonna need to see the proof on that one,” Morgan teased flirtily, the way he always did, the way he did even with JJ who had a whole child and partner, because it was his natural state of being. 

Spencer smiled as his team warmed to you, though he was quick to pull you to him with a gentle arm around the waist. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Derek, that man was practically his brother, he’d taken bullets for the guy, but he liked having you close, even if to just remind himself that you were all his, including said tattoo on your buttcheek that he’d seen plenty of times. 

The team didn’t need to know that, but you could tell your words had reminded him of it as he pressed a shy kiss behind your ear.

He was careful to avoid the studs and links that glittered from your ear lobe, wrapping over the cartilage on your helix, though he loved to stare at them on nights where you tied your hair up and he could count every one of them. To him you were a work of art, complex and detailed with every glance he stole. You were an illustration in one of his many books, everything he imagined for himself times a million. 

“I’m going to go get a drink, do you want one?” You said, looking up at him with puppy eyes, like a lovestruck teenager, fat adoration in your gaze. It oozed out of every inch of you, and JJ thought for a moment that you looked nothing like the scary doberman woman that Spence had originally brought over to meet them. You looked in love, the saccharine, soft and dazed kind of in love. 

“Let me get it for you,” Spencer rooted around his pocket for his wallet, turning to see Morgan’s beer bottle running low, “You having another one?”

“I’m good, my man, you just sort yourself and your lady out,” Derek flashed him a thousand watt smile and clapped him on the shoulder as you entwined your fingers with his, pulling him through the cluster of people and towards the bar, “What a stud,” 

Penelope giggled again, leaning towards her adonis best friend with honeyglow cheeks, watching their genius get led like a dog on a leash. 

“Oh lover boy had got it bad,” She drawled, watching Reid, their Reid, develop an uncharacteristically protective stance as a few men at the bar shot looks up and down your body. She couldn’t blame them either, you were a sight for sore eyes. “Okay, so do I have to be the first one to point out how hot she is or have I maybe had one too many margaritas?” 

“She seems nice,” JJ chose her words carefully, still not entirely sure she would have ever put the two of you together but she saw the way Spence’s eyes got round and longing when he looked over you. He’d clearly said something to make you laugh, and an inked hand raised up to brush his chocolate curls out of his face lovingly, “She seems good for him,”

A murmur of agreement ran through the four of them, Emily taking one more sip of her martini as her eyes roved over your figure returning with something fruity and colourful, “Anyone else dying to know what’s on her ass?” 

-

[alwaysanundertone]

high sex drive | poly! marauders x fem! reader

hurt/comfort + smut

TW: NSFW, piv, non-protected sex, oral (f/m receiving)

Sirius was drawing patterns on your thigh, the tips of his fingers grazing the supple skin there ever so slowly while his head rested on your belly. Your other two boyfriends were cuddling each other, they were all spent after coming many times, so why weren’t you?

You found every touch maddening, it didn’t make sense for you to be so wound up; it wasn’t like you hadn’t gotten off, because you had, and plenty of times.

The problem was your sex drive. Your desire wasn’t something that your ex boyfriends accepted, nor did they deem it normal, one of them even suggested to go see a sex therapist one time, and you did. The session failed to give you answers, and after some time you just gave up, resigning yourself to a life of not voicing your own needs.

It went good, as good as faking being satisfied would go, but it wasn’t that bad after all. With these guys, though, it was really difficult to just pretend.

“Love?”

You looked up, finding three pairs of eyes focused on you. “Mh?”

“Where did you go, dove? You’ve been awfully quiet. Sirius just asked you if you are hungry, we thought about ordering something, is pizza good?”

You refrained from blushing, hating the fact that you weren’t able to mask your true feelings even in a peaceful moment like that. “Sorry, I’ve just been lost in my own thoughts, I guess” You chuckled, sounding suspicious even to your own ears. “Pizza’s good, thank you”

You felt Sirius mouth closing over your inner thighs, its teeth piercing the supple skin there, making you gasp. “Come on, darling, you know you can tell us anything”

The thing was that every boyfriend you had started this conversation like this, telling you that it was okay, that he would have taken care of you, and then when they found out that they couldn’t change you, they’d start to call you a nympho, making you ashamed of yourself. So no, you weren’t sure you could tell them anything.

“You’re doing it again, love” James was looking at you through pleading eyes, it was really hard to resist him when he was acting like this, but you had to. The guys were the best thing that happened to you in a long time, and you weren’t willingly letting them go for something as stupid as your sex drive.

“Oh, uh” You blushed. “I think I’m just kind of tired, you know? Nothing crazy”

There was a moment of silence, then Remus spoke up. “This thing won’t work if you’re keeping stuff from us, dove. You have to understand the importance of trust, if you don’t want to talk about it now, fine, but at least tell us the main topic that’s bothering you so much you’re not even listening to us when we’re talking to you”

His words felt like a harsh slap to your cheek, bringing true tears to the surface, which you tried to fight against, to no avail.

“Sorry, I don’t want to bother you, I do trust you, it’s just-“

“Was sex too much? Were you unconfortable? You’ve been like this since we had sex, did we hurt you?”

Sirius sounded horrified, and you couldn’t help the words that tumbled out of your mouth, you had to fix this.

“No, no it’s quite the opposite actually” They were all looking at you expectantly, you sighed. “It’s just- I have a high sex drive, okay? And I hate it, I know it’s twisted and disgusting and not right but I need to get off multiple times a day and sometimes having sex worsens the situation because then I keep wanting more and I hate it, you evet got me off so many times I’m the worst girlfriend ever.” Now that the words were comung out of your mouth, you couldn’t seem to stop them. “And I’ve been to sex therapists but they don’t know how to turn this off and just- I’m so sorry you’re probably regretting even-“

“Do not finish that sentence for the love of God”

You furrowed your brows. “Sirius what-“

“No, I should be the one saying sorry, I’ve been torturing you for the past hour and I didn’t even notice it.”

“And you’re not disgusting” James piped in.

“Dove, it’s nothing crazy, we can just-“

“No you can’t fix it.” You couldn’t stop the words from coming out of your mouth even if you tried, years of shame weighting you down. “Every ex that I had told me that they could fix it but it just doesn’t go away and I know it’s a burden” You pressed your hands to your face, hating this situation and hating yourself even more for letting it happen.

“Dove, would you please let us finish?” You nodded, your hands firmly locked in place. “Okay, I was trying to say that you can tell us if you’re needy and we’ll be really happy to help. There’s three of us, and if we aren’t available, there are your toys, you know? I don’t know what douchebags you dated, but this would never be a burden to us” His eyes were pleading you to believe him, and you found yourself wanting to.

“I think it’s anything but a burden, darling” You blushed slightly at Sirius, who was now laying on his belly, his head hovering right above your centre. You squirmed unconfortably, he smirked at you. “I’m being mean, aren’t I? Hovering just above you, so close yet so out of touch” His lips were now grazing your earlobe, making you shiver head to toe, the movement of his hands on your inner thigh maddening. “Such a pretty little thing, so flustered, what do you want now, love?”

You tried to tell him, but being vocal about your needs was something you weren’t used to, especially after years of slut shaming in your past relationship. You tried to avoid his question, wriggling your hips. “You know what I want”

He tsked. “No, I don’t. Do you want my mouth?” He lightly kissed you above your panties and shorts, making you grunt. “Mh, interesting. Maybe it’s my fingers that you want?” He caressed your nipples over the thin fabric of your -James’s- shirt. “My cock?”

The moment was interrupted by a pornographic grunt, coming from a very flustered James. “Fuck that’s so hot” He palmed his dick over his boxer briefs, making you blush.

“Look at him, darling, you’re making him needy. I think we should give him a show.”

You whimpered. “Sirius, please”

“I can give you everything you want, love. Just ask me”

You swallowed your pride. “I want your mouth, please”

He tutted. “Where do you want it? Here?” He grazed your forehead, the slightest touch sending you ablaze with need.

“No, Sirius, fuck, I want it on my pussy, please eat me out, I’m begging you” You couldn’t recognize your own voice, it sounded breathy, restrained, too close to begging.

“Gladly, darling” He pushed your shorts down, ripping the soft fabric of your panties in two. You didn’t have time to complain, his mouth immediately landing right on your clit.

His tongue started massaging the little bud, making you gasp as he flicked it repeatedly, moaning while doing so.

“You’re so wet, darling, I’m kind of mad, you know? You were really trying to keep this from me, from us” You shivered as you felt his index finger teasing your hole slowly, making you arch your back.

As he entered you, Remus was right above you, his dick in his hand, stroking your cheek with his free one. “Open up, dove, make me feel good”

He didn’t have to ask twice, your mouth opening right as Sirius thrusted into you with his fingers. “Fuck, she’s so wet James, fuck the show come here”

Suddenly, all three of your boyfriends were on you, James lining the crown of his cock at your entrance as Sirius lips closed right on your clit, sucking on it hardly. You felt one of Remus’s hands right over your right nipples, pinching it slightly, making you arch your back.

Your head was spinning, you felt awfully close to orgasming. “Fuck, love if you squeeze me like that I won’t last”

“That’s fine” Sirius piped in. “That’s why there’s three of us, to keep her satisfied” He tutted as you tried to close your thighs. “That isn’t nice now love, is it? Keep them open for us, stay still”

You loved when he was mean during sex, loved how he made you feel like you were at his mercy. “Sirius, close, god”

He chuckled. “You’re already coming, aren’t you? You’ve been such a good girl, telling us what you need, I think you deserve to come” You felt Remus’s cock swelling in your mouth, you rushed to swallow every drop of him, trying to focus on it, but it was difficult when you had two of the hottest guys you’ve ever seen between your thighs.

“Come now, darling. Be a good girl and come for us”

It was all it took for you to explode, your mouth wide open, eyes shut as you gripped Sirius head with all your force. He wasn’t complaining, though, still lapping at you, while James got off inside of you, his thrust loosing force and rhythm.

Just as you were coming down from your high, you felt another cock probing at your entrance.

“What…”

“Hush, love, I think you got one more in you, don’t you?”

You weren’t able to respond, your long-haired boyfriend immediately started rutting into you, his hips hitting the back of your thighs at a punishing rhythm.

“You’re so hot, fuck” The sounded that came out of you were pornographic, you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, you could already tell that this orgasm was going to shake you thoroughly.

All you could manage to do, to say, was chant your boyfriends’ name like a prayer.

“Come on now, dove, give us another” Remus leaned down to kiss you, his tongue caressing yours, you couldn’t help but moan in his open mouth.

You obliged, drenching Sirius’s cock as your brain completely shut down. You could feel your boyfriend coming inside of you, but you just couldn’t bring yourself down to Earth.

You found yourself in a hot tub, James massaging your shoulders behind you while Remus stood kneeling outside of it, rubbing your feet.

“How do you feel? Good?”

You hummed, looking up at your long-haired boyfriend, your hand reaching up caress his face.

“Really, love? Me and Remus are both cuddling you, and it’s him you reward?” James’s tone had no bite in it, still you reached your other hand behind his head, scratching his scalp.

“Hey, it’s me who ate her out, it’s only fair, really” He winked at you.

There was a bit of silence, then you felt Remus hands wondering up your thighs.

“What-“

He smiled at you. “I think I can get another one out of you, just relax against Jamie and let me do the work”

You moaned lightly, nuzzling against your boyfriend’s toned chest, wondering what you’ve done to deserve them.

[jarofstyles]

Dirty Little Secret

Hello love bugs… This is something different I’m trying! He is not exactly a good person. Neither is she, exactly, but especially him. There’s a power imbalance and some cheating (with Y/N, not on)

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WC- 4.4k

Warnings- unfair power imbalance, mean dom h, humiliation, degrading, d/s dynamics, infidelity, he’s a dick, really not a great person 

If anyone asked someone to describe Harry Styles, they’d say he was up and coming- the one to look out for. A man with family values, a pretty wife, a tendency to donate to anyone who needs it. He went to charity galas, he gave people time off who needed it, he had the best possible healthcare plans, he had two rescue cats at home and sponsored planting 1000 trees every summer.

But they didn’t know what he really got up to. Who he really was.  That he was the furthest thing from a doting husband that his wife liked him to appear to be. 

He used to be. Until Y/N walked into his life. 

Harry sat at his desk, going through some important paperwork with a frown- completely ignoring the fact that his secretary was currently on her knees between his legs, her head bobbing up and down as she sucked his dick. He occasionally would let out a soft grunt or groan, but would quickly go back to his work, not even sparing her a glance.

A low grumble rumbled in his throat as he continued to ignore her, though he could feel his cock swelling with each sloppy suck. He knew exactly what Y/N was doing - testing his control, seeking attention. But he'd learned her games well. No praise, no touch, nothing to make her think she was getting away with her bratty fucking behavior. His fingers drummed absently on the papers, keeping his eyes fixed on the documents rather than the head bobbing in his lap.

She could feel her frustration growing as he continued to ignore her, his attention fully devoted to his work instead of her. She sucked harder, trying to elicit some kind of reaction, but he remained stoic, his face contorted in thought as he read through the papers. She even tried to add a little teeth, hoping he would finally look at her, scold her, anything. But he just grunted softly, jaw clenching just a tad and shifted a bit in his chair, still not sparing her a glance. 

It was torture.

Her muffled whimper of frustration only made the corners of his mouth twitch slightly as he continued to concentrate on his paperwork, pretending not to notice her growing desperation for his attention. He knew how much she craved his focus, his praise, his command. And that was precisely why he denied her, maintaining his stoic facade in the face of her increasingly vigorous efforts to get him to crack. The occasional shiver that ran through him at the feel of her lips and tongue was his only concession to the pleasure she was trying so hard to provoke.

Just as she was about to give up and crawl away in defeat to go pout at her own desk, his phone suddenly rang, piercing the tense silence of the office. Harry's gaze flickered to the device on his desk before he picked up, his voice crisp and businesslike as he answered. "Styles." Y/N's head paused mid-suck, her ears perking up as she strained to listen in on the conversation, hoping against hope that it would be something that would distract him from ignoring her.

"Yes, I'm aware of the delay with the project. I don't care what excuses you have, I want it sorted out by end of the day." His voice was cold, commanding, brooking no argument. She hated how her cunt clenched at the dominant tone, her frustration momentarily forgotten as a different kind of heat pooled between her legs. She remained still, lips wrapped around his thick shaft, listening intently to his one-sided conversation. "Yeah, well- I really don’t give a fuck about what’s going on right now. Get it done like I’m paying you to fucking do. And if I hear that you've off fucking around on my dime again, you're fired. Got it?"

As he finished his stern lecture, his hand grasped the back of her head with little warning, pushing her down firmly until her nose was buried in the thatch of pubic hair above his dick and he was fully lodged in her throat. He held her there for a long moment, his cock throbbing in the wet, hot confines of her tight little throat as he continued to flip through his papers with the other hand, acting as if her presence wasn't rattling his concentration in the slightest. He really should gamble, with the poker face he had. Finally, he released her with a slight grunt, leaving her gasping and sputtering.

He gazed down at her face in his lap, her teary eyes, the spit webbed from her lips to his cock. "Was that so difficult, sweetheart?" His tone dripped with sarcasm. "I thought you wanted my full attention. S’why you acted like a little fucking brat before, isn’t it?." He tapped a finger lightly against her pursed, slicked lips. "Perhaps next time you'll think twice before trying to manipulate me with your... methods." His eyebrows arched as he glanced towards where her mouth had just been before returning his gaze to the documents before him ."Now, be a good girl and let me work in peace. If you're going to be on your knees, make yourself useful.” 

His finger moved from her face to move across the papers, though the slight tightness in his jaw betrayed the effect her wet mouth had on him as she kissed over the shaft. Trying to make it up to him, obviously. "Though I must say, the lack of eye rolls and attitude when your mouth is full is quite an improvement. You should try it more often."

Of course she was. Y/N knew what he liked by now but had wanted a bit more attention- and she had known how to get it. Eagerly, she continued to suck his cock, determined to prove herself and earn his praise the right way. Her head bobbed up and down, saliva dripping from her lips as she worked his thick cock, her tongue swirling around the sensitive head. She could feel his fingers tapping against her cheek occasionally, a silent reminder to keep going, to be good and quiet while he worked. She relaxed her throat, letting him sink deeper, her nose buried in his pubic hair on her own attempt as she struggled to take him all the way down.

He grit his teeth, trying to focus on the papers in front of him as she gagged herself on his dick. Her throat constricting around him felt incredible, but he refused to let her see the effect she was having on him. His hand tightened around the pen, knuckles white as he fought to maintain his composure. A low, barely audible groan escaped him as she swallowed around him, the vibrations shooting straight to his balls. Fuck, she was good at this. Too good.

His breathing grew heavier as she expertly worked his prick with her mouth, the tight suction threatening his carefully maintained control. She knew exactly what she was doing. His free hand unconsciously gripped the edge of his desk, fingers twitching slightly. The little brat might make him actually lose focus if she kept this up. He tried to focus on the numbers in front of him, but his vision kept blurring at the sensation of her tongue. Such a fucking talented mouth for such a brat…

She started to get sloppier, drool dripping down her chin as she sucked him with less control. More desperation to please a man she should realistically be far away from, but too addicted to stop. The wet, messy sounds filled the room, punctuated only by her occasional gagging and the soft, muffled moans around his dick. Her hair was a mess, strands sticking to her face and neck with the mess she had made, but she didn't care. All she cared about was making him proud, making him see that even if she was a brat, she knew how to suck his cock like a good girl.

The man let out a shuddering breath, finally tossing the papers aside as her relentless sucking threatened to unravel him completely- so he broke. "Fuck, just like that." He muttered, his hand gripping her hair roughly in his fingers to urge her on. "Such a talented little cockslut, aren't you?" The irony wasn't lost on him - they were both playing their roles in this twisted game of power and pleasure, each using the other for their own needs. He knew he was just as guilty as she was, cheating on his wife with his secretary. Playing these games when he knew better. But it felt too good to stop. He’d never felt more alive.

His wife barely paid him mind. Their marriage had fizzled, leaving him lonely and frustrated- and when an overly eager Y/N had come in, spending hours a day in close contact with him, it felt inevitable. She was beautiful, she was sweet. Listened to commands without a hitch (most of the time.) As wrong as it may be, as soon as he got the hint that his cute little secretary with her soft doe eyes and cunning smile had wanted his cock- he readily gave it to her. Y/N let him do what he needed, happily taking whatever he handed to her. Dealing with her bratting out was something he liked more than he’d verbally admit. Getting her to this point, desperate for his approval, he thrived off of it.

He thrived off the power dynamic, the way she would look at him with those pretty, pleading eyes, seeking his approval after she'd been a brat and she wanted him to forgive her- have mercy. He loved reducing her to a whimpering, drooling mess, desperate for his touch, his praise, his attention. 

His wife was a shell, a ghost in their marriage. A facade of perfection upheld by false pleasantries at the shops, or at the galas she only went to for the sake of keeping up her own appearance.

 Y/N was alive, vibrant, always present. Eager to learn and work, even when it wasn’t a sexual thing. She was full of life and possibilities he hadn’t been exposed to before and he felt an itch to give them to her. 

She might be a brat, but she was his brat.

“Little whore. So precious.” He whispered in a condescending coo.  “Sucking off your boss. Desperate for my cock, mm?” Gathering her hair in his hand, he gave in to her need for attention to help her take his cock in her throat again. His second favorite place to be. “What is it you want now? Mm? What’s got you acting like a brat?” He looked down at her, his expression a mixture of heat and amusement. "What is it that y’want, you precious little slut? You've been throwing yourself at me all day, acting like a spoiled brat. And now you're on your knees, choking on my dick like it's the only thing that can satisfy you." He tightened his grip on her hair, using it to guide her head up as he spoke. "So tell me, what's got you so desperate for my attention?"

“You said I couldn’t come on the trip. I want to go.” She pouted, breathing deep through her nose as she tried to catch her breath. He listened to her request, his expression unreadable for a moment before a slow, smug smile spread across his face. "The business trip, huh? Y’want to come with me so bad that you turned into a brat in the middle of the work day?" He chuckled, a low, mocking sound. "And why should I bring you along, hm? What could a little thing like you possibly offer me on a trip like that?" He leaned back in his chair, still holding her hair tightly. "M’not running a fucking daycare, sweetheart."

"Please, Harry... I'll be good, I promise. I just... I wanna be with you." She whined, her voice taking on a pathetic, pleading tone. It was clear she was desperate, willing to do anything to get her way. He considered her for a moment, his grip on her hair loosening slightly as he thought. "And what about when I have meetings? When I'm busy with clients? You're just gonna sit in the hotel room all alone n’pout?"

“No! I can come and- and take notes. Get coffee. You know I can do that sorta stuff. I want to be there.” She protested, eyes pleading up at him.

"Oh, you want to be there... as what? My secretary? Or my little office whore?" He smirked at her, knowing his crude words would have her cheeks flushing. "Just what exactly are you volunteering for here, hm? Taking notes... or taking care of all my other needs?" His free hand slid down to grip her chin, forcing her to look up at him. "Be honest with yourself - which d’you think you would you be better at?" His voice dropped to a husky whisper. Her honeyed eyes looked so pretty with residual tears, desperation in them. It was his favorite look on her face.

“Let’s be honest, sweetheart. If you come with me, you're not just my secretary. You'll be my personal assistant, my travel companion, and... whatever else I might need you for." His thumb pressed against her lower lip, holding it still as he spoke. "So, are you up for the challenge? Willing to be at my beck and call, day and night, for the entire trip?" He leaned forward, his eyes boring into hers. "Because if you are, I might just consider letting you tag along."

Y/N felt fuzzy, nodding her head. It was actually exactly what she would want to do. Something in her most base and primal self wanted to please him. Make him happy. She liked when he was mean, when he used her, when he praised her. It was something she’d felt since she started but every time he would show her attention, even if she knew deep down it was wrong for so many reasons, she loved every bit of his attention. 

"Good girl." He praised, releasing her chin and giving her hair a gentle tug. "You'll be my little shadow for the entire trip, doing whatever I say, whenever I say it." He stood up, pulling her to her feet and wrapping an arm around her waist. "And if you're good, I might even take you to a nice dinner. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?" He murmured, already looking forward to having her by his side. Craving some intimacy, even in this way, he wanted to at least do something nice for the girl he was about to bend over his desk. She was a real good girl, despite her misbehaving.

He spun her around and bent her over the desk, pressing her face down against the cool wood as he hiked her skirt up. "Now, since you took my cock down your throat and kept quiet while I was on the phone, I think you deserve a little... reward." He unbuckled his belt, the metal jingling loudly in the quiet office. "M’going to fuck you right here, right now. And you're going to take it like the good girl that you try to be, understand?" He pressed his wet against her ass, grinding slowly. "Say yes, sir."

“Yes, Sir.” She swallowed thickly, feeling him lift up her skirt to bunch it around her waist. This was the desired outcome. Getting to go with him, taking up all his attention. Arching her back, she pressed her ass into him. The surge to test limits came back, her tiny smirk concealed by the position. “Will your wife be angry, sir? that another woman is coming on a trip with you?” She taunted, trying to keep her voice sugary sweet though she knew it would trigger him.

He chuckled darkly, running a hand possessively over her exposed ass cheeks before giving it a harsh slap. Ignoring her gasp, he did it again and smeared the precum dripping from his tip over the hot flesh.. "You want me to tell you how unhappy she'll be? Maybe about how she hasn't touched me in months? Or how I stopped caring about her being distant when a cute little secretary came in and started to bend over backward to keep me happy?" He yanked down her panties roughly, leaving them around her thighs. "She doesn't care about me anymore than I care about her." he growled, lining himself up at her entrance. There was something so illicit about it, the fucked up nature of fucking her raw that made him even more worked up than he’d expected. He knew he was digging himself a deeper grave, simply trusting she was telling the truth about birth control… but if she was, and he got her knocked up, maybe he’d have the balls to actually file.

"S’that what you want to hear, sweetheart?" He teased, pushing just the tip of his cock in before pulling back out, loving how she squirmed. "That I don't give a fuck about her anymore? That all I think about is this tight little pussy?" Each time he plunged just the head inside, he'd drag it out slowly, watching her split open and back together again. "Answer me." He ordered sternly, his hand coming down with another sharp smack on her ass.

“Y-Yes.” She managed to gasp out, feeling the tip pop back inside to make her legs weak. “I like it. I like knowing.” It was an understatement. Completely. She loved knowing he was picking her. It was completely the opposite of how she’d ever imagined herself to be but she couldn’t lie to herself and say she didn’t love being chosen. 

“Thatta girl. Wasn’t so hard to admit, was it?" he grunted, pushing his entire length inside her in one hard thrust. She let out a loud yelp as he buried himself deep, his balls slapping against her soaked pussy as he wasted very little time taking what he wanted. Grabbing a fistful of her hair, he pulled her head back as he started to fuck her hard and fast, his thick cock pounding into her over and over. "You like knowing I don't care about my wife, huh? That all I think about is your tight little cunt?" He grunted, his thrusts becoming even more brutal.

She let out a high-pitched moan, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the edge of the desk. "Y-yes, sir! I love it!" She panted, arching her back to take him deeper. "I love knowing I'm the one who gets to have you like this. The only one who gets to feel your big, thick cock inside me." She was so loud, so wanton, not caring if anyone outside the office heard her getting fucked by her boss. She really needed to shut the fuck up, but something about his dick made her mind melt. The same way it melted all her morals away.

He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her up to stand arched against him, lips brushing against her ear. "Yeah… y’like being my little secretary.? Being the woman who gets to go on trips with me, sit in on my meetings, sleep in my hotel bed?" He growled, his hot breath fanning over her face as he looked down at her. "You love it, don't you? Being my girl in everything but name?"

"God, yes!" Y/N cried out, practically vibrating with pleasure as he hit all the right spots inside her. "I love every second of it. Being yours, belonging to you completely..." Her words dissolved into a breathless moan as he shifted the angle of his hips, sending jolts of ecstasy through her body. "I'll do anything for you, sir. Anything you want. Just please, don't stop fucking me like this..."

He loved how easily she fell into the role, how eagerly she begged and whimpered for his attention.

He could feel her pussy clenching tightly around his cock, the wet heat enveloping him as he pistoned in and out of her. Her juices were coating his shaft, dripping down onto the floor, marking the expensive carpet with the evidence of their sin yet again. He knew he should feel guilty, fucking his secretary on his desk in the middle of the workday, but all he could focus on was the way she moved beneath him, the little gasps and moans that slipped past her lips as he used her for his pleasure.

He gripped her throat with one hand, his fingers wrapping tightly around her neck as he bent her forward, folding them both in half over the desk again. With his other hand, he reached under her to grab her hip, using it to pull her back onto his thrusting cock in long, hard strokes. She struggled to breathe with his hand around her throat, her eyes bulging as he fucked her mercilessly, the desk creaking and shaking with the force of his movements.

"You're my whore. Don’t think I don’t know how much you need my cock. Drooling over it while you’re supposed t’be organizing… s’just too good, mm?." He growled against her ear, his thrusts becoming more harsh. His hand around her throat began to squeeze rhythmically with each thrust, cutting off her air just long enough to make her panic and clench tighter around him. "No one fucks you like I do, does they?" His voice was practically a snarl as he drove into her. "Takes you like this, claims you completely? You love being my convenient little office whore, don't you?"

Her eyes rolled back in her head, her body trembling as he choked her and fucked her thoroughly. Letting out every little bit of frustration on her poor, swollen pussy. She was completely at his mercy, unable to breathe, unable to move, only able to take his cock as he gave it to her- and she loved it. Harry had introduced her to this, a type of fuck she didn’t know possible- and now she was utterly obsessed. The room was filled with the sound of their brutal fucking, the desk scraping against the floor, her muffled moans, and his grunts of pleasure. 

“Sending me home with my cock covered in you, your lipstick on my collar. Don’t give a fuck if she sees. I’ve got better pussy here.” He laughed cruelly, slipping his hand up to place two fingers into her mouth. Her cunt clenched at his words, making him click his tongue. “You love it.”

She didn’t want to love it. She knew she had never invisioned this, but it felt too good to stop. Harry was too good to her, felt too incredible, gave her all the perks she wanted… It was the worse thing to be in her eyes, the mistress, but she wanted it more than she cared about anything else. It was hard to think logically when his dick hit the spot that made her gush all over him.

"Ah, sweetheart. Yes you do." He taunted, his fingers shoved in her mouth to muffle her moans. "You never thought you'd be on your knees for your boss, choking on his dick, spread open on his desk while he pounds into you like a toy." He leaned down, his hot breath fanning over her ear. "But you do love it, don't you? You love being my dirty secret."

The pathetic little nod sent satisfaction through his veins. He knew she loved it, but even single time she confirmed it only amplified his own need for more. "That's my good girl," he praised, his pace never faltering. "Whining because you know I'm right. You're my dirty little secret, my pretty whore, and you fucking love it." He bit down gently on her earlobe, making her squirm. "And the best part? You know I'm going to keep fucking you like this, no matter what happens.”

Y/N’s eyes rolled back, almost drooling around his fingers. She’d need to do her makeup all over again after this. Harry made a mess out of her every time, but especially today. The confirmation made her cunt try to suck him in deeper. The proclamation that he wasn’t going to stop, that she was going to keep getting it? It felt like she had won.

"No matter if I get caught, no matter if my wife suspects, no matter if everyone in the office knows we're fucking like rabbits behind closed doors," he snarled, his hands roaming possessively over her body as he continued to pound into her. "Because you're the best I’ve ever fucked, and I can't get enough of you." He leaned down, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.  "And you know what the really fucked up part is, sweetheart?" He whispered, his lips brushing against her ear. "I think you'd stay even if it meant keeping this a secret forever, even if it meant never being able to be with you in public, you'd still be my little office whore, wouldn't you?" He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching hers, looking for any sign of denial or hesitation- he knew he wouldn't find any. She was his, completely and utterly.

Nodding frantically, her lips parted to try and speak, but all that came out was a strangled whimper. He was right, she would stay, she would be his dirty little secret forever if that's what it took to be with him. She needed him too much to ever leave, no matter how wrong it was.

Y/N would take everything he gave him. 

And Harry would take whatever he could, because he liked her more than he cared to admit.

[hello-sweetheart]

You know that trope where Person A thinks Person B is just being nice but they’re actually flirting. What about the opposite? Person A misreading their behavior and being the only one falling impossibly in love.

Clumsy in Love Part 2

It’s hard to listen to Eddie talk about this guy the same way Steve wished he did about him. Eddie, already so full of life and words, doesn’t seem to need to take a breather between his praises.

“Can’t believe this guy is actually into me, did you see him? Oh my god!” He groans and smacks his palms against the steering wheel, literally bouncing in his seat.

The van swerves a bit to the left.

“He’s just my type, too. Those eyes, prettiest eyes that have ever graced human existence, and they were looking at me. Me! Wow! The darkest green— I don’t think there’s any precious stone that can compare actually.”

He beams at him and Steve’s traitorous heart still flutters like a wounded bird helplessly flapping its broken wing. Eddie is smiling so hard his cheeks must hurt, eyes crinkled at the corners and teeth on full display.

Steve will close his eyes at night and replay these words, pretending that this excitement and instant adoration is about him. That Eddie’s love-struck smile is for him.

“And, to top it off, he’s a geek. A fucking nerd. He actually knows DnD! What are the chances, Stevie? I’m no religious man, but an angel must have heard mine desperate pleas.”

His name is Adiel, Eddie’s perfect guy.

Steve spends that night feeling the need to cry, the hurt is right there at the base of his throat refusing to spill.

Steve kind of wishes he did, maybe letting everything out would leave him feeling empty instead impossibly full of heartache.

Adiel is blond, a dirty blonde that means he must’ve had light locks as a kid. Face slim and cheek bones prominent, but his features are soften by button nose. Maybe Eddie is right, he looks like the angels depicted in stained church windows, but whereas angels are depicted in white, Adiel wore exclusively black.

He wasn’t decorated in rings and chains like Ed, only a few silver piercings in his ears and a couple on his lips. But it was evident they had much in common, even just by looks. More than Steve could ever say about him and Eddie.

Over the next couple of weeks they share their music, intrinsically understanding what it means to one another.

Getting it.

Getting it the way that Steve never could, even with hours of Eddie breaking it down for him. Maybe Steve never understood, but he loved those moments shared between them. Wonders if Adiel cherishes those moments too. If he takes it for granted.

They share everything with each other and Steve hears every little detail gushed between sickly sweet sighs. He’s trying to be a good friend, to listen and share Eddie’s happiness, but something inside him grows bitter. Angry. He hates feeling this way.

“I met his friends already, they’re a really cool bunch. I really think you guys would get along. They know all the best spots for people like us. There’s a whole world out there, Stevie—“

Stevie. His breath stutters.

“Of people like us with places for us. We could take Robin and Vicky and be surrounded by people that won’t, that won’t think we’re… wrong. And who knows,” he nudges Steve’s side with a suggestive smile, “maybe you’ll meet the one there, huh Stevie?”

“Stop. Just, just stop!”

Steve doesn’t mean to yell. He just can’t take it anymore. Everything that has been building up inside him has reached a point where he just can’t. He pushes Eddie away from him who looks startled. Offended and bothered and confused.

“I don’t want to meet his friends, or least of all him. I don’t get it, okay! I thought—“

What did he think? That one day he would confess to Eddie or vice versa? That they’d kiss and go on double dates with Robin and Vicky? That he would fall asleep each night in love and loved? It seemed plausible at some point. That’s what hurts the most.

“Hey, Stevie—“

“Don’t call me that! You don’t get to call me that anymore.”

“What? Your name? You don’t want me to call you by your name?”

A bitter laugh, “yeah. My name from your mouth.”

“I, You’re not making any sense!”

Steve knows. He knows. But Stevie, Big boy, Ozzy… even his own name, can’t bear to hear them. Not from him. Can’t bare the way his heart squeezes.

Eddie’s looking at Steve with furrowed brows and down turned lips, standing still. Has Eddie ever been still before in his life?

Once. When he was still and pale and red. His chest gone quiet for the most terrifying seconds of Steve’s life.

Steve looks at him, his eyes burn. Steve’s breath from his own chest brought Eddie back to them. Eddie’s lungs still carry his desperation. His ribs healed but the cracks must still be there from the palm of his hands. He’s tasted Eddie’s blood before from his mouth—

He’s kissing him. Steve, dumb stupid in-love Steve, has his lips on Eddie’s once more, but this time they’re warm and full of life and his ringed hands are on him and,

They’re pushing him. Away.

“Eddie,” his sight is blurry, eyes hot, and breath stuttered. “I, it hurts. You with him. I can’t—I just can’t.

And Eddie looks, terrified, dark eyes searching Steve’s face. For what, he does not know. Sincerity, maybe. Truth. Maybe looking to see if he’s really shattered inside.

“I’m sorry, I… I didn’t…I don’t…”

And Steve?

Steve smiles. It’s watery and his lips quiver.

“I know.” And that’s the problem, isn’t it. It’s always the problem. “I know, Eddie. I’m sorry. It’s, it’s okay.”

Eddie leaves Steve there in the living room.

There’s still two cans of Coke half full on the coffee table but only one person left in the room.

Part one < 💛 > Part 3

Tagged: @bananahoneycomb @margaglitterdeath

[littlelamy]

how you met

rockstar!rafe x model!reader

The pulsing bass and dim lights made it easy to get lost in the heat of the underground club. The air was thick with the smell of sweat, spilled drinks, and the kind of energy that came alive after midnight. It was the perfect place to forget… or be forgotten. Exactly what you’d needed after your friends all but forced you out tonight, insisting that life didn’t end just because you’d left your famous ex in the past.

"Look around!" one of them yelled over the music, nudging you with a sly grin. “This is exactly what you need!”

“Right,” you muttered, taking a sip of whatever drink they’d ordered for you, scanning the room with a sort of lazy detachment. You weren’t really looking to rebound with anyone here. That is, until you saw him.

He was on stage, barely ten feet away. Shirtless, tattoos splashed across his skin, he had that dark, brooding edge that made him look like he was born for a stage like this, all arrogance and mystery wrapped up in a stunning face with a jawline that could cut glass. His voice was raw, gravelly, like he was spitting out every word with a vengeance, and somehow, he had the entire crowd hooked.

Rafe Cameron.

You recognized him immediately—he’d been the face (and body) of a million indie music magazines you’d been in too, though your worlds had never actually crossed. But seeing him up close, hearing him live, felt different. You watched, your heart picking up speed with each word he growled into the mic, his piercing blue eyes scanning the room until—

He saw you.

There was a beat, maybe two, where the energy between you was so thick it was almost tangible. His gaze raked over you slowly, starting from the glossy heels that matched the clingy little dress your friends had practically begged you to wear. His eyes were heavy, hooded, and every time he looked at you, you could practically feel the heat licking at your skin. You arched a brow, pretending not to notice, barely giving him a second glance, which only seemed to make his stare even bolder.

“God, he’s looking right at you,” your friend whispered, practically squealing in excitement. You kept a cool exterior, giving Rafe the most casual of glances before looking away, leaning back to take a slow sip of your drink. His band continued their set, but he never stopped glancing in your direction, his attention flickering between the song and whatever spell you’d cast over him.

The moment they finished, you expected him to disappear backstage. Instead, Rafe practically leaped off the stage, heading straight for the bar, for you.

“Didn’t think a girl like you would ever show up in a place like this,” he drawled, voice low and teasing as he leaned an arm on the bar next to you. He smelled like sweat and the faintest hint of smoke, and somehow, it was intoxicating. Up close, he was even more gorgeous, a mix of rugged, careless appeal and a confidence that was probably earned from too many one-night stands.

“Maybe you don’t know what kind of girl I am,” you replied, shooting him a little smirk. You wanted him, yes, but the game was too fun to rush. Besides, you were still reeling from the effect he had on you. You couldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that.

Rafe chuckled, and there was something wicked about it, like he already knew exactly what you were doing and had every intention of breaking down your resolve. “Oh, I know. I’ve seen your face on more magazine covers than I can count. Got them all over my place, by the way.” His eyes roamed your body again, this time with no hint of shame. “But trust me, you’re even better in person.”

“You talk like you think you’ve got me all figured out,” you shot back, the smirk playing on your lips as you turned to face him. His stare was unrelenting, blue eyes devouring every inch of you, and there was no hiding the smolder in them. He’d probably perfected that look a long time ago, and it was undeniably sexy.

He leaned in, his lips brushing just past your ear. “You want me to figure you out?” His voice was a low, dangerous whisper. “Because, baby, I’ll take all night if that’s what it takes.”

You couldn’t help the way your breath hitched at his words. He was crass, unapologetic, and entirely too good at this game, but you weren’t about to let him know he’d gotten under your skin. Yet.

“Oh, please,” you replied coolly, rolling your eyes as if unaffected. “Like you could handle it.”

Rafe’s grin widened, flashing that perfect smile that made your pulse thud in your chest. “Big words for a girl playing hard to get,” he said, his hand reaching to twirl a strand of your hair between his fingers. He was close enough that you could see every detail of the tattoos etched along his collarbone, and you had to focus hard to keep your cool as he looked at you like you were something he was seconds away from devouring.

You arched a brow, meeting his gaze head-on. “Playing?” you echoed, feigning nonchalance. “This is just my normal.”

His laugh was a dark, husky sound, and the way his fingers brushed along your arm left a trail of heat on your skin. “If that’s the case, sweetheart, consider me hooked.”

He paused, eyes locking on yours as he closed the distance, his hand coming to rest on your waist. You could feel his warm breath on your lips, smell the scent of whiskey on his breath. You knew exactly what he wanted—and, if you were honest with yourself, you wanted it too. But you weren’t about to make it easy.

You let a long moment of silence stretch between you, your eyes flicking to his mouth for the briefest second before meeting his gaze again, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “Then I guess you’ll just have to work a little harder for it, won’t you?”

Rafe’s smirk softened into something that was almost a grin. “Oh, trust me, I don’t mind putting in the work.” Without another word, his lips crashed against yours, hungry, unrestrained, a kiss that held every bit of the reckless energy he had on stage. His hands held you firmly, like he was staking a claim, and the way he kissed was more than just a kiss—it was a promise, a challenge, a taunt all in one.

As you pulled away, a satisfied smirk played on your lips. Rafe was left standing there, his hand still lingering at his side as if reluctant to let go. You met his heated gaze, letting a slow, coy smile spread across your face before stepping back, savoring the way his eyes stayed locked on you, intense and unyielding.

With one last lingering glance, you turned on your heel, swaying your hips with each step, knowing full well he was watching every second. Each sway was deliberate, your heels clicking against the floor in time with the pounding bass of the music, and you didn’t look back, but you could practically feel his eyes tracing every curve.

Rafe’s husky voice rang out, half-amused, half-starved, over the music. “You’re playing a dangerous game, you know that?”

You glanced back, giving him a sly wink. “Guess you’ll just have to catch up and see.”

His smirk grew, and you knew you’d just sparked something wild in him. Just the way you wanted it. And as you slipped into the crowd, you could already feel the tension simmering, ready to pull you back to him the second you both decided to stop playing games.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @dinakisser @rafecameroninterlude @sstargirln

[semisslave]

♡ Give me your sound, making your song going loud... ♡

Contents: WLW, Dom!Se-mi x Sub!R, Guitarist!Se-mi x Singer!R, Smut

Warnings: Smut, degradation (kinda), praise, strap sex, fingering

You were part of an independent band called "The Roselights." You were their lead singer. Your band wasn't quite popular but had some fans. Your band aesthetic was quite girly and pinkish, especially you, being the lead singer.

Your band had a "rival" band, which was quite the opposite of yours. "Lost kisses" was an independent rock band that also had a small fan base like yours, and they kept fighting among each other. Both bands always suffered with comparisons between them since they were both indie rock bands but quite different. Lost kisses had a very dark aesthetic, very different from yours.

You couldn't deny that their music was good, but something was better than the music. Their lead guitar, Se-mi, was quite popular outside the band. She had 50k followers on Instagram just because she was gorgeous (something you couldn't deny). You tried to talk to her some times but she and her band mates were very rude and cold, that's one of the reasons why your band and theirs don't get along.

You and your band decided to enter an independent bands competition were the winner had the chance to sign with a big record label, of course you weren't missing this opportunity, but guess who wasn't either...

The competition was held in a concert place where people could watch and vote online for their favorite band at the end of the presentations. There weren't judges, so you had to make your biggest effort to connect with the audience and convince them to vote you.

Your band had to play right after Lost Kisses, which made you more nervous already.

You thought it wasn't fair because Se-mi was more popular than her band, and that would benefit them. Some girls even threw her bra to the stage while Se-mi's band was performing.

When they end, the announcer calls your band out, and you prepare yourself to go, but Se-mi grabs your wrist and whispers to your ear in a low voice...

"Good luck, pretty girl."

How the fuck were you supposed to concentrate after she said that? It was clearly part of her plan, fuck her.

"Now, welcome to... The Roselights"

You stood on stage and gave the best of you, hitting notes you didn't even know you were able to and expressing every lyric perfectly, making the public feel the song with you.

After the presentation, you and your band went to the backstage where there was only one person... Se-mi. The other bands where in the other room waiting for them to be called or already left since the results were going to be announced the next day. You looked at Se-mi confused while your other band mates started grabbing their things to leave.

"That was a great show... You actually surprised me ___" Said Se-mi with a smirk and playing with her lip piercing.

"What do you want?" You asked annoyed, your band mates were already leaving, each one by their own.

"I just wanted to congratulate you... Is that illegal?" She said faking innocence while you sighed

"I know you're not here just for that. You really expect me to believe you suddenly changed and now you're kind?"

"Now that everyone is gone, I can tell you my true intentions... You looked really sexy on stage, you know?"

You blushed at her comment. What was she saying? "Thanks, I guess..."

"You could say the same about me."

"I don't think you need my words, I mean... You had people throwing their underwear at you."

"But I don't care about them... They're not pretty as you." She said taking steps closer to you. Her height towering you as she slid a hand on your waist.

You were speechless, what the fuck was happening? Is this another wet dream you had with her?

Suddenly, she kissed you. You didn't pull away, how could you? You wrapped your arms around her neck while her pierced tongue was exploring your mouth. God, she was experienced.

Se-mi then, hearing the other band finished their performance, pulled you and her bag into a bathroom to continue what you both already started.

She started undressing you slowly while kissing you, taking off your black jacket, then your pink dress, leaving you only in your pink underwear and you black large boots that never took off.

She started caressing your clothed pussy as she felt the wet stain in your panties.

"God, so wet already, and only for kissing? You're such a slut." She said with a smirk in her face, placing you on the counter of the bathroom.

She pulled your panties aside and slides two fingers in your pussy. You moan as you feel them inside of you, the cold rings making you more sensitive.

"Fuck, S-se-mi~" You moaned as you felt her fingers moving inside of you, hitting that sweet spot.

While fingering you, Se-mi grabbed her bag, taking a 8 inch black strap out of it.

Your eyes widened at the sight of it, how was that going to fit?

"You look scared, I'll be gentle, at first..." She says while putting the strap on.

You moaned, almost screamed when you felt it inside of you, stretching you out.

"Oh, Se-mi!~"

You moaned as she pounded into you

"You look so pretty when you're made a mess..." Said Se-mi while she pounded into you harder

"Oh, yes, yes~" You moaned as Se-mi fucked you dumb

"You're taking me so well, keep doing it..."

You moan feeling closer to your release.

"I wish I had a cock and I could feel how tight you are..." Said Se-mi with a smirk on her face.

"I-I'm close~" You gasped as you felt closer to the edge

"That's great, good girl..."

"S-se-mi!~" You screamed her name as you came.

Se-mi keep pounding, making your orgasm last longer as you moaned and gasped desperately.

When she finally pulls out, you, with shaky legs, adjust yourself a bit on the counter while Se-mi takes off her strap, putting it in front of you.

"Lick it clean" She says codly

You, completely fucked dumb, obediently lick the strap

"Such a good slut..."

Se-mi cleaned you up and helped you get dressed, something you didn't expect her to do but she felt really caring at that moment. She helped you to get out and even brought you home. You smiled as you layed on your bed, you forgot everything about the competition, your mind was only thinking about Se-mi right now. Were you developing feelings for a member of the rival band? Your band mates would be so disappointed... Well, fuck them, it's your life. Does she feel the same? If she doesn't, why would she fuck me and take care of me like she did? Your mind was flooded with questions.

You got a message

"Tomorrow, you could say that you've been fucked with a winner" It was Se-mi

You totally forgot about the competition, you couldn't sleep all night thinking about Se-mi and the competition...

Part 2? (This is my first time writing theseee😭💗)

[rafelandia]

Hwy can you wtite dad rafe x mom reader after giving birth to their daughter how did the first time (s€x) went or something like that, you can do what you want.

I feel like Rafe is hesitant to initiate once they get cleared by the doctor. He wants to so fucking bad but these last few weeks had been rough and he knows Y/N hasn’t had the best time. He unintentionally makes the drive home awkward and quiet, not wanting to bring it up until she does.

It probably starts out slow and on a whim, maybe she goes to check on Rafe in the middle of the night because he’d been out of bed a bit longer than he normally is. She finds him in the kitchen cleaning a bottle and there’s just something about the way the moonlight is hitting his broad chest and toned arms that reignites the flame deep in her tummy. Rafe would scoop her up and sit her on the cool, marble countertops of their kitchen and lazily plants warm and wet kisses down her neck and chest. He thinks it’s finally happening and right when his fingers navigate their way through her sleep shorts and hover over her sweet heat, they’re interrupted by a piercing cry of their newborn that jolts them out of the passionate state of longing they were in.

The next time, she’s nervous. She knows her body has changed and while she is extremely confident that Rafe could care less because she’d given him the most precious gift in the world, it’s a personal hurdle that she hasn’t quite been able to jump. She eventually agrees after being begged for what felt like the millionth time to let Rafe eat her out. He takes his time, refamiliarizing himself with her pussy and relishing the taste that he’d missed so much. Rafe’s got some stubble now due to late nights and exhaustion, which only enhances the sensation Y/N feels while he massages her clit with his tongue. The build up is intense and it doesn’t take long before her back arches up from the plush mattress they share when Rafe gently pumps one of his fingers inside of her and she’s seeing stars.

The rekindling of their sex life makes them feel young again — they find themselves sneaking away during any free time they have when baby girl is asleep. She’ll sit on his face while he devours her, and she’s leaning back so she can haphazardly stroke his thick cock. She’s getting more comfortable and gaining her confidence back — Rafe knows it won’t be long until she’s begging him to fuck the daylights out of her.

The first time they actually have sex is probably on a whim too — no elaborate gesture like flower petals on the bed and no meticulously planned “massage” that they both knew what would really end up going down. Rafe and Y/N are probably just in the hot tub after enjoying some wine at dinner and what starts as slow, drunken kisses turns into her on top of him and his hands shoved down the back of her swimsuit. He’s rubbing circles on her ass while she’s sucking on his neck, fingers moving dangerously close to her sweet spot. She’s putty in his hands and it’s not long before he’s teasing her entrance with the tip of his cock, waiting in agony for her to make the next move. The look in both of their eyes is unmistakably lust-ridden as she slowly sinks down into him. Rafe brushes her hair out of her face with a wet hand and tells her that she’s beautiful and to go as slow as she needs to, though he knows he’s on the brink of cumming just from the way the jets are swaying her body back and forth against him.

It would start agonizingly slow, Y/N having to stretch herself to fit all of him inside. He jumps the gun and bucks his hips on instinct. She tenses up at the sharp movement and he kisses the swell of her exposed breast before muttering a breathy, “Sorry, baby,” against her skin. Only a few minutes of rocking back and forth against him pass before they’re both out of air and panting heavily in each other’s ear. Rafe takes over for the last little bit, bouncing her up and down on his length. He tells her he’s close and is a bit embarrassed by it, but as her core rocks against the trail of hair beneath his navel and he knows she’s not far behind him. He gets it out of her when he starts talking, moaning into her neck about how much he missed fucking her pussy and how good it feels to have her again after what felt like centuries. Her body convulses as she comes undone, making her clench around his cock. That was all he needed to finish, though he makes sure to pull out before cumming into the water. They lay there for a bit, Y/N on top of him while she regains her strength. Swimsuits are abandoned in the hot tub when they head up for a shower and some sleep, knowing the house keepers will find them in the morning. Neither of them really seem to care.

Rafe is deeply unserious so he probably says something stupid like, “We are so back,” and playfully slaps her naked bum as she makes her way up the stairs and into bed. He’s missed his girl and the feeling he gets when he sees her with their daughter makes him want to put another baby in her and do it all over again. He knows it’s ridiculous to want another so soon — it’s more of a newly developed breeding kink than anything. But he’ll wait patiently until the time comes.

Little did he know.

[sweetiecutie]

Part eight: first time/virginity loss~ 🩷 Kinktober Masterlist 🩷

Pairing: John Price x fem! Reader

Warnings: NSFW, mdni, virginity loss, fingering, unprotected sex (don’t do that), fluff and soft, I don’t like the ending but dunno how to fix it

- You came to me like a smart girl that you are, made me so proud, - John murmured against your ear as two of his thick fingers were working your pussy open, stretching it out to fit his girthy cock inside. His thumb never stopped rubbing the swollen nub of your clit, causing your mouth to fall open in silent moan, your nipples pebbling up at the intensity of newfound pleasure.

- Yeah, you came to a real man who would treat you so good, not some stupid frat boy who’d fuck you in the back sit of his car and then act like nothing ever happened, - Price kept on whispering, placing small kisses on your temple and hairline in between each word, his beard tickling you slightly, adding to sweet sensation. Your wide teary eyes looked up right into his, making John’s heart skip a bit - how pretty you looked underneath him, so soft and sprawled out on his sheets; how those doe eyes sparkled, gazing at him with so much trust and need, how your puffy lips formed a perfect little pout, melting every bone in his massive body into mush.

John leant in, connecting his lips to yours in a slow sloppy kiss; skilled tongue sliding along your lower lip before slipping into the warmth of your mouth, nose bumping against your cheek. Price gladly swallowed a small squeal you let out as he added third finger inside of your cunny, pumping them in and out slowly, smiling into the kiss as you started buckling your hips up ever so slightly, matching the pace of his hand. Man hummed approvingly as he felt your small hands trailing down his chest and sides, clumsily trying to caress his burly body - your touch is tentative and unfirm, but oh how much John enjoyed your eagerness to please.

- You think you’re ready to take me? - John asked after breaking the kiss, his lips mere centimetres away from yours, piercing eyes gazing right into your soul. You nodded rapidly, mouthing small yeses. - That won’t do. Use your big girl words, hm?

- I want you inside of me, - you uttered under your breath, bright pink dusting your cheeks and ears, heart humping rapidly inside of your chest at the realisation of what was about to happen.

- Love, it’s no pressure. You say stop and we stop, get it? - Price said, his voice sounding as serious as ever, startling you slightly by the sudden change. You nodded in agreement, nibbling on your bottom lip as John slipped his fingers out of your hole, making you feel so cold and empty. - Now clean my fingers f’me.

You obliged happily, opening your mouth and taking three of Price’s fingers inside, soft tongue swirling around rough fingertips, tasting your soury essence off his skin. You watched with immense interest as John undid the button and a zipper of his cargo pants one handed, tugging them down to his knees. His cock, once free from confines of black boxers, sprung up to his stomach, standing tall and proud and incredibly thick. You gaped, glancing up at your lover in confusion - will that thing even fit in? John chuckled, satisfied with your reaction, taking his digits out of your mouth and pulling your hips closer to himself.

- Don’t worry doll, I’ll be as gentle as ever, - he reassured, wrapping wet with your saliva fingers around his thick shaft, pumping it a few times.

John aligned thick cockhead to your fluttering entrance, causing your breathing to hit hitch in excitement. First stroke was slow and smooth, forcing about one third of Price’s cock inside of you. The stretch burnt, but John did good job earlier, working you open on his fingers, slowly easing you into taking the whole thing. After a few long moments he continued, slowly pumping his hips back and forth, sheathing more and more of his length with each new stroke.

First small moan fell from your lips, John’s cock stretching your pussy to its limits, but his thumb caressing your clit relentlessly made it so much easier to handle. Your tits bounced with each slow thrust, making it impossible for Price to resist grabbing them and playing with your perked up nipples.

- Fuuuuck, you’re so perfect for me. My perfect little girl, all mine, forever mine, - John groaned out, holding you so tenderly, his brain barely functioning at the feeling of your rippling heat wrapping so snugly around his throbbing cock, bringing him to the edge embarrassingly quickly.

Your hands grabbed Price’s wrists for some kind of grounding; initial pain started dissipating slowly, giving place to warm pleasure to suffuse you. Your clit was throbbing. unused to such close attention, back arching up at the intensity of the feeling.

- John, I think I’m gonna- your words broke off as a sudden wave of pleasure crashed over you, washing away all the remnants of thoughts that still were in your head. Pure ecstasy was pumping through your veins, making you shake and tremble in your lover’s firm hands, clamping down onto his thick cock, bringing him closer to his own high.

- That’s it doll. Just like that, cum on my cock, make that pussy cream for me baby, - Price muttered above you, his stomach muscles flex upon feeling you clench around his needy leaking cock. But his hips never stopped, fucking you into and through your high, not planning on stopping anytime soon. Not until John showed you how much pleasure a really good sex may bring<3

[mintwithchoco]

Slow Down

Oh My Girl Yooa x Male Reader + Male OC

Word Count: 8883 words

Categories: smut, threesome, oral, spitroasting, rough sex(?), double penetration, subbygirlfriend!yooa honestly, commission

Commission Details: one quaint sized of mint choco ice cream (8k-10k words)

Inspired from:

Breathe in, breathe out. Control it. Just for a little bit more. You can hold it in, you can definitely hold it— 

“Fuck, Yooa… slow it, down, a little—”

She’s far from gone. You can’t stop her anymore. Relentlessly thrusting herself onto your cock is the only way for her to feed off this sinful pleasure. Being a few weeks away from her beloved significant other is quite the punishment, and with it comes an unquenchable desire to give you the best ride of your life, milking everything that your balls have saved.

This situation was within your expectation however, so you were prepared to pull an all-nighter. What wasn’t in it though was how you would have four orgasms, fully filling up her cock hungry soul in a span of three hours. To say that you were exhausted was an understatement—you felt like you were on the borderline of passing out as the constant streams of euphoria registers into your whole body. 

Both of your crotches were in complete mess. Your cum was literally leaking out of the horny girl, who just couldn't keep her mouth shut, resonating the room with her moans. With a piercing screech, she makes one last powerful thrust and sprays her climax juice all over your cock. 

Now that she’s laying almost lifeless on your torso, surely this enthralling scene would come to an end right?

Before you could even think about sleeping with your cock still inside her dripping cunt, she rises up once again after whispering into your ear these three sinful words, “Cum for me.” This instantly sparked something inside your brain to force everything you have left to tend to your lover’s demand. You hold her by the waist, steadily supporting her body moving against you. The friction proved to be effective as you were driving closer and closer to your peak.

 “Yes, yes, yes, fucking cum for me!”

 “Fuuuuck, Yooa!”

You let Yooa sink deep into your lap as you violently let out everything that you had—two thick shots of cum smearing her insides, adding towards the already unreasonable amount. Her head falls backwards, letting herself fully enjoy the feeling of being stuffed with your semen until she finally collapses onto you due to exhaustion. Meanwhile, it was a challenge for you to regain your composure after that intense session, especially with Yooa hugging you so tightly. Yet, you didn’t utter any complaints. A satisfied smile from your beautiful girlfriend is all you need to feel better.

“That was so good, oppa. You came so much for me.” Yooa said, in between breaths.

You giggle softly. “Anything to make my dearest happy. I hope you feel satisfied now.”

Yooa nods cutely, and you reply back with a kiss on her forehead. No other words were needed to end the night off as Yooa snuggles into your embrace, making you drape the sheets over your sweaty bodies before drifting off to sleep.

─◍──────

“...I just feel like, last night, we didn't do very much. Like, I need more.”

“You… want more?” She nods. “So, all we did last night was not enough?”

“No! No, oppa, I-I don’t mean it like that! It’s just that…” Yooa trails off, getting distracted by the ice cream stand by the street you both are going to before continuing, “It’s just that I wanna, you know, try something new when we do it again!”

The two of you are currently basking in the serenity of a much-needed getaway, a perfect retreat after Yooa’s performances at the recent Waterbomb festival. As both a congratulatory gift for her success plus an apology gift for being away on a business trip, you decided to bring her to the resort that she’s been dying to visit for months. Unsurprisingly, she was more than ecstatic to thoroughly experience this trip, savoring each second as if it was the most precious thing to her.

“Don't we always do that? I mean, last night, I came so much inside of you—”

Yooa puts a finger on your lips to stop you, as more people are appearing on the sidewalk. “Shhh, not so loud!” She sighs, before continuing, “I know it was, but it was me who wanted it. How about we switch it up this time, with you picking what we do next?”

But we’ve done everything though?

The intention of shopping at a mall near the resort is put on hold for a while with a stop for some ice cream. While you both munch down on your cold snack, you begin to wonder what your girlfriend really wants—what else haven't you done with her? 

For the last year you’ve been together, you’ve experienced a lot of new things with Yooa. Memories of the first date are still fresh in your mind, like it just happened yesterday. You remember being so nervous to even meet eyes with her, especially knowing the fact that a well-known idol you’ve seen on music shows countless times is now right in front of your eyes. You’d have to thank the hands of fate somehow, as Yooa was attracted to your charms from the very beginning, and how genuine you are going into this relationship after being tested with the cons of her busy idol life. 

Yooa suddenly whines at your tense expression. “Don’t think about it too much, oppa! I’m still very happy, and that's all that matters. Let's just enjoy this trip to the fullest, okay?”

She's right. Your focus should be on this trip that you have thoughtfully planned out purely for both of you. You then grab her hand swiftly and lead her through your next agenda. Before you know it, you both are already walking around the mall, your eyes left to scatter around for some interesting place to shop at. Eventually, Yooa stops by a dress store. 

She quickly gets to one of the clothes racks. “Look oppa, this dress is so cute! This one too! And this one!” 

You smile. “Why don't you try it on?” 

Yooa then excitedly grabbed three of the dresses that she likes and brought them to the dressing room. It only took her a few minutes to put on her first choice—a white floral patterned dress which flaunts her curves really well and more on the revealing side. When she comes out to show it off to you, you’re nothing but starstruck by her look.

“How does it look, oppa?” 

You snap out of your little trance. “Uhh, looks great to me! How do you feel about it?”

“It’s a little tight, but it's comfy!” Yooa spins around while checking out all the details of the dress. “Hmm. I’ll put on the next one.”

She returns to the small cubicle to change into her second option—a plain dark blue maxi dress, flowy and conservative that reaches by her ankles. It definitely looks much cuter than the first one, due to its simple nature. The door opens, and you are immediately greeted by a much brighter look from your girlfriend.

“Oppa look! This is sooooo cute! What do you think?” Yooa says while fluttering her dress cutely.

“Yeah, it does look cute babe! Wait, just stand there and look pretty.” You quickly pull out your phone and open your camera. Taking a few steps backwards to aim your phone properly, you began to capture a few pictures of your gorgeous girlfriend. 

“Hey—”

Suddenly, you accidentally hit something—or rather someone while you were backing up. You jerk in surprise and immediately look behind.

“Oh, shit—s-sorry! I didn't see you there,” Hold on, this guy looks familiar…

“It's cool, bro—eh?” The man’s neutral expression turns into a puzzled one once both of you meet eyes, as he also recognizes you. It didn't take that long for you both to find the answer.

“Mingi?!” Yooa exclaims.

Take another look at his face, and your eyes widen. “No way! What's up bro?”

Mingi isn't just an acquaintance; more accurately, he's your former rival. Before you became close with Yooa, he was the one taking her on dates, spoiling her with gifts, and, for all the obvious reasons, shaping her into the woman you’re now with. In some ways, you could admit that they made a great couple, given how happy they seemed together. But in the end, it wasn’t meant to be. Their careers clashed too much, pulling them in different directions. Thankfully, they ended things on good terms, as shown by how well they still maintain their friendship over the years.

You give Mingi a firm handshake. “Good, good. Are you two on a holiday?” 

“Yeah, I’ve been away because of work and she's been busy as well, so we decided to just take a little detour here. What about you, what are you doing here?”

Mingi beams, “Oh, this is actually my store! Well—not exactly mine, but my sister’s store. I’m just helping with a few things here.” 

Yooa butts in, “No wonder the store felt familiar! Hey, can we get a discount on these?” 

“An idol asking for a discount? That’s rare.” 

“Hey, idols still need to save some money if given the chance!”

Mingi and Yooa continue to tease each other, going back and forth with each other like back in their days. Surprisingly, you were unfazed by their shenanigans at all. Jealousy has never even crossed your mind. It's all due to the fact that Mingi has been nothing but genuinely nice to the both of you, even going as far as advising you on some things about Yooa in your early days. And like he mentioned to Yooa, he is also not interested in looking for another partner yet, which means a scheme of getting back together is definitely not in his books. Hopefully.

“Alright, alright, I’ll give you these three dresses for the price of one. Happy?” Mingi offers, and Yooa excitedly agrees.

You shake your head in response, feeling the secondhand embarrassment from your girlfriend’s playful behavior. As Mingi sends both her and a staff member to the receptionist for some final adjustments and the payment of the dresses, you thank him for the generous offer.

“It's nothing really. Hey, we should totally hang out sometime. Been a while since we had a drink.”

“Yeah, dude! I’ll see if we can make the time.”

Mingi snickers. “No, no, no, I mean, just us. Boys talk, you know what I mean?”

You thought about it for a while until you caught his message. “Gotcha, gotcha.” Within minutes, Yooa returns to you with a bag on hand containing the dresses. A big smile is plastered on her face. “All done, babe?”

Yooa nods. “Thanks again Mingi! I’ll be sure to promote your store on my Insta!”

“You better be, or else I'm getting killed by Minju. You two keep enjoying your day, alright?”

You both bid Mingi a goodbye and went on to check out some other stores around. Amidst the shopping spree and the almost excessive spending done by your girlfriend, one thing is still stuck in your mind throughout your day. 

“Boys talk, you know what I mean?”

It wouldn't hurt to bring it up to him, right?

───◍────

Afternoon soon came around, and you are now lying lifelessly across the bed in your hotel room. Your legs are at the point of breaking apart (probably an exaggeration on your end) due to the whole shopping spree in the morning. You blankly stare at the white ceiling, wondering when your next few events will unfold. But it quickly diminishes itself as the fatigue finally settles in your body, your eyelids growing heavier the more you sink into the ever so comfortable mattress.

Just as you are about to fall deeper into your state of resting, a face suddenly appears in your vision.

“Oppa!” Yooa’s loud voice rings in your ear, making you jolt awake. “Let's go for a swim!”

“A swim? That does sound nice. But—” You stretch out your limbs, before continuing, “I’m all drained out. Maybe later.”

Yooa flattens her lips, looking slightly dissatisfied with your answer. “Alright then, but I’m going first. Feel free to join in whenever you want!”

You flip your body over, sinking yourself into the bed with your face flat and give her a thumbs up. Yooa quickly finishes preparing herself for the pool, wearing a two piece swimsuit that perfectly accentuates her tantalizing figure and bringing along a couple of towels to cover up and dry herself right after. 

Before she reaches for the door, Yooa screams out, “I’m going now!” 

You weakly utter, “Mmm, have fun.”

The door closes, and you are now left alone in the room, being free with your own thoughts and to do whatever you want. Maybe you will join your girlfriend downstairs. Though to be fairly honest, you’re not a big fan of public swimming pools, so the only reason why you would go to the pool is to just admire Yooa in her skimpy swimsuit. So basically, there's not much use for you to go there anyways other than to accompany your girlfriend. But looking at her enthusiasm even if you—her beloved one who she sticks with all the time like glue—are not there shows that she can take care of herself well enough for the moment.

Eventually, your thoughts come across your encounter with Mingi once more, leading you to remember your concerns about Yooa. You don't know whether you should bring this topic up to him at all, despite Mingi’s open mind and carefree nature. Sure, he has helped you out in deciphering your girlfriend’s riddles since he went through it all with her. Though, this is more of a “personal” case rather than your typical puzzling interactions. 

But in your head, there's a voice that tells you to take this chance. Maybe there’s still a few things that Mingi hasn't told you, and this could be the right opportunity to do so. Soon enough, you got a hold of your phone and quickly got in contact with him.

[4:26 PM] You: yo, you free?

[4:28 PM] Mingi: in about a few mins

[4:28 PM] Mingi: why?

[4:29 PM] You: lets hang out, i have smth to talk about

[4:31 PM] Mingi: ight, where?

[4:32 PM] You: at the resort’s cafe, i’ll send you the location

[4:35 PM] Mingi: cool, be there in 10

It took you two minutes to get dressed and be headed downstairs to the cafe. Luckily, the swimming pool is on the top floor, so chances of being noticed by Yooa would be pretty low. Once inside the cafe, you are greeted by the calming scent of coffee beans, the buzzing sounds made from the espresso machine, brewing a fresh shot of that liquid gold caffeine.

A waiter soon comes up to you when you finally find a seat by the window. “Americano, cold.”

“Alright. Anything else, sir?”

“Uhh, my buddy is coming soon, but I’m not sure what he wants—”

“A hot caramel macchiato, please.” A voice suddenly appears behind the waiter, startling the both of you. “Oh, sorry.” Mingi then sits down in front of you while the waiter confirms your order before leaving you both to your matters. “Didn’t think we’d hang out this soon. You must have something on your mind.”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “But it’s a little different this time. This might get a little uhh… vulgar.” Mingi’s eyebrows moved and a small smirk began to appear on his lips, already having an interest in the topic you’re about to cover. “We just gotta keep it lowkey.”

Mingi adjusts his clothes, all ears for the conversation. “Alright, hit me with it.” 

With every word you let out, you try your best to carefully explain what you’re dealing with while keeping it in sentences that won't make anyone bat an eye even if they heard it. The further you talk, the further Mingi looks amused and keeps asking you more details about your lovemaking life. One after another, his questions grow to become more direct and specific which makes you a bit worried since the number of people coming into the cafe were also increasing. You try to give him a sign to lower his voice, but he brushes it off by saying, “Don’t worry man, no one’s really near us anyways.”

After gathering everything that you have said, Mingi began to give you a few suggestions, some of which are quite concerning and rather questionable. You rejected most of them, given that they were either out of your comfort zone or too much for you and probably Yooa to consume. I mean like, why would you constrict your girlfriend with ropes and tapes just to heighten her pleasures? Your vanilla-esque mind can only handle so much that you couldn’t even bear to watch your girlfriend being in pain even if she enjoys it. A few customers around are starting to give your pair a weird look because of your constant recoils of embarrassment after hearing such sinful words coming out of Mingi which were only bedroom appropriate. Eventually after even more refusal from you, Mingi finally lands on something that piques your interest.

“What about… adding another guy in one of your sessions?” 

“You mean a threesome?” 

“Yeah, but don’t get like a random guy. At least bring someone that is familiar to you, like a friend. It depends on her as well.”

“D-Did you ever do it?” 

Mingi snickers. "Yeah, I asked one of my staff to join in while we’re doing it in the office.”

Your eyes widen, almost spilling out the drink in your mouth before swallowing it quickly. “You serious?” Mingi shrugs his shoulders with a smirk on his face. “H-How did it go?”

“Oh, she loved it. Even asked the guy to come by the house after that.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“Of course! He’s a youngster after all. Just giving him some fun, you know. But Minju doesn't like it whenever I bring someone over.” 

“Wait, when you said ‘we’, does that mean—”

“Oh, no no no! It was with another girl. Don’t worry, Yooa is not as much of a freak as you think.” 

“Of course it's an understatement, coming from you.”

You began to find the benefits in the option Mingi gave to you this time. It's something that you and Yooa have never tried; check. If done in the right way, you won’t feel uncomfortable doing it; check. All parties—Yooa, yourself and the other guy—will feel satisfied by the end; check. No more double takes, this is probably the perfect breakthrough that your relationship could take. 

“Seems like I just hit the bullseye.” Mingi says after noticing your nodding head in agreement. “So, is that the answer?”

You inhale a sharp breath. “M-Maybe. It's the only thing I could imagine myself doing. But, who should I bring tho—” Your eyes then lock itself on the man right in front of you, who was enjoying his drink and the scenery unfolding outside the window. In a glance, Mingi emits a cold yet flirtatious aura, clearly letting you know how much experience he has in these kinds of situations. Your brain overloads itself with various depictions of how you want to fulfill your girlfriend’s wish.

Mingi notices that you were looking at him for a bit too long. “What?” 

A hesitant look in your eyes was certain, but your lips were quick enough to utter, “Do you wanna join us tonight?”

Mingi chokes on his drink. His cool demeanor begins to crumble apart as he coughs away the pain in his throat, never expecting the sudden invitation. “Wa-Wa-Wait a minute, are you saying what I think you're saying?”

“I think I said it,” you wear an uncertain look on your face. “Can't think of anyone else that's more perfect for this than you. We’re already pretty close and since we're here, why not try it now? Plus, you can teach me a few things too, I guess.”

Mingi’s eyes blinked a few times, still processing what you had said. “Are y—Are you sure, bro? Like, reaaaaally sure?” He stops for a while, licks his lips, before continuing, “You do realize that I’m literally her last ex?”

“I know dude. But honestly, you’re the only guy that I’d trust with her if I wanna do this.” As Mingi calmly lines his thoughts together, you watch his actions intently, waiting for his answer. “T-That is, if you're free tonight. No pressure.”

“Oh my god.” Mingi rubs his temple, managing to let out a little chuckle, baffled by your assertion. His eyes are quick to scan the surroundings, hoping to find a camera of some sort, holding a belief that this is some sort of cursed prank. “Dude, tell me I’m dreaming right now. Ain’t no way you’re letting me clap your girl just like that.”

“You’re right. This does sound very wrong, but like—” The more you think about it, the more you feel that this is totally an absurd request. Although, the drive to uncover the unknown has been implanted in your head, with the motivation to please your girlfriend’s wants seeding it to full growth. “One time doesn’t hurt, right?” 

Mingi sighs, “Fuck, man.” 

For a moment, you felt like time is slowing down, eagerly making you nervous for Mingi's reply when actually, you shouldn't need to. His mind has already been poisoned with the sinful thoughts of Yooa taking on both of them at once, how loud she will be when they both enter her insides, burying her face in the crook of his neck when that beautiful body of hers is bent over, begging for more as her fingers grip onto the bed sheets because of how full she feels— 

“You know what, I could scrap the idea, we can find someth—”

“Fuck it. Just… don’t tell Minju about this. Please.” 

“I-I guess that's a yes?” 

Mingi replies with a slow nod. “I’ll say this flat out, I’m just doing this because of you. I’m not gonna let Yooa focus on me too much. You’re the main guy for tonight.”

A sense of relief washes over your body. At last, your mind can rest easy after finding the potential solution to your girlfriend’s request. All that's left is for you to cross your fingers and hope that Yooa will enjoy the thought of having Mingi joining in the bed. Based on her mood today, she might take the chance for a different view. You are also ready for anything else if things go south—you’re used to last minute decisions anyways.

“Thanks man, I really appreciate it. I know how she is, so we have nothing to worry about. Finish up your drink. I’ll take you to our room.”

“Aye aye, sir.”

Soon enough, you both are on your way to the said hotel room upstairs. Check the time on your phone, 6:03 P.M. You expected that Yooa would already be back in the room, but the trail grows cold as the room was still in the same way before you left. It's a better outcome for you at least, letting you to prepare yourself for the potentially life changing experience.

Meanwhile, Mingi quickly gets comfortable as he takes off his jacket and sits down on the edge of the bed. “She’s still at the pool?”

“Yeah, but she said that she's gonna be back soon,” you say while replying to Yooa’s message on your phone. “How about Minju? Is she okay with you being late?”

“Don't worry about it. I can make shit up. Worst I’ll get is a pinch on my chest,” As Mingi moves himself into the bed more, he asks, “Hey, what if she doesn't wanna do it? What do we do?”

You scrunch your face, not knowing the answer. “I hope that won't happen, because I got nothing else.”

Mingi puckers his lips, “Mmm, I don’t know man, I’m still on the fence here to be honest. And if I was her, I probably wouldn't do it.”

Two minutes later, a faint beep was heard and the door opened itself. Yooa enters the room swiftly, her lower half covered with a towel and her hair still looking pretty damp, a sign that she really did go for a dip in the swimming pool. She immediately stops in her tracks when she spots the other guest on the bed.

“Mingi? What are you doing here?” 

You walk over to Yooa who is still standing in front of the door. “Hey babe. Listen, uh…” You look over to Mingi, who gives you a reassuring nod. You began again, now bringing her in closer to you by the waist. “Remember when you told me that you wanna try out something new?”

Like magic, Yooa reads your mind. “Is that why he's here?”

“Kinda. We both met up just now and talked about it. And uh, Mingi suggests that we try out a threesome. Since he's already close with us, I thought to just—you know, invite him for it,” you explained. “So, what do you think about Mingi joining us for the night?” You applaud yourself silently in your head for successfully asking her without a lot of stuttering.

Mingi suddenly gets off the bed and comes up closer to the two of you. “Come on, Yooa. I know you miss a piece of me,” His fingers move to caress Yooa’s chin gently. “Princess.” 

Her eyes widen instantly upon remembering her term of endearment with Mingi, specifically used whenever he feels aroused. She obviously loved the nickname as well, as it is certain to make her blush even until now, along with the recollections of it being used in their special moments. 

Amidst her desire building up, the feeling of self-consciousness lands first in her heart. She knew that she wanted a change, but this is definitely a risky step to take, especially considering that Mingi, her last ex, is involved. His amorous personality is what scares her the most, as it might induce anger within you and worst case scenario, a reckless brawl. 

“Have you thought this through? I just—” She sighs, “I don't want the both of you to fight.”

“Babe, I’ve thought about it, and I’m sure of it. If you're not interested, that’s fine by us. Though I really hope you would consider it.” You then hold both of her hands. “I know you're worried about me being jealous or angry with Mingi, but I promise I won't feel that way. I know that I’m the one who wanted this, and I know what I’m getting into, so you have my whole word for it, dear.”

She met eyes to the two tall men standing right in front of her. Her boyfriend has a fixed gaze on her, showing hints of nervousness, possibly because of the unusually long time she's taking to answer his question. While her ex has a calm yet eager look, though deep inside, it probably could be described as hunger at this point, just waiting for the right moment to devour its prey to fully satisfy his desires.

There is no amount of pressure that can match what Yooa is currently facing. She would literally be playing with fire, risking her relationship all for her own sexual desires. As she looks upon their eyes once again, it seems that they’re confident enough to invite her to do the act, especially her own lover, showing how much trust he has on both Mingi and Yooa, even if they are both facing a potential change of heart.

Mingi immediately breaks the few seconds of silence, “Look, I’m not gonna seduce you. I just want you to know that he's my bro, and bros won't hurt each other, mentally and physically. I’m just gonna be your uh, ‘Cock Number 2’ for tonight. Nothing more, nothing less.”

The line of restrictions starts to fade away, as lust begins to take over with trust and devotion coming into play.

She takes a deep breath, and exhales slowly, before her lips part to speak, “Alright, let's have some fun, boys.”

Without wasting any time, you bring her in for a passionate kiss. Her body feels a little cold due from her time in the pool, but you love it nonetheless—she feels fresh in your arms, ready to be ravaged by the two of you. You found yourself falling further into her lips, and the tenderness of it led to an addiction that compelled your arms to hold her more securely. There is no doubt that you are already used to making out with your girlfriend; nonetheless, the feelings that you have are so intense that they could never leave your mind, a craving that is endless.

“Hey, don't leave me out now.” Mingi teases, feeling a little lonely looking at the couple.

After chuckling at his remark, Yooa invites him in to make out with her as well. Mingi shows no sign of hesitation, immediately latching onto her lips before she could even prepare for it. It is certainly odd to see a literal replay of how these two were back then, but you don’t let jealousy creep up into your head—you did agree to all of this unfolding anyways. All you can do now is to reach over to remove the towel covering Yooa’s legs and gently began caressing her beautiful figure from behind.

“Don’t forget your man behind you. Give him some love as well.” 

There’s not a single bit of resistance left—Yooa submits herself to the four hands that roam around her body as lust begins filling up her mind in every passing second. Mingi attacks her neck with soft pecks and bites, careful not to leave a mark. You, on the other hand, struggle to find the hem of her top while leaving kisses on her shoulders. After guiding your hand to it, Yooa reaches down to your crotch and cups the growing bulge in between your legs. 

“Fuck—” you gasp as her fingers massages your clothed cock, delicate yet agonizing. Although her touch is shooting copious amounts of pleasure into you, you manage to slip a hand under her top to reach her mounds. They fit perfectly in your palm, and you couldn't help but to just knead her breasts and tweak her nipples, making her jerk pleasurably.

Mingi puts a halt on his kisses. “I think it’s time we get more comfortable.”

You agreed almost immediately, making both of them giggle as you complain about your legs getting sore. You lift Yooa right into your arms, carrying her in a bridal style to bring her over to the much more pleasant bed. As soon as you lay her down on the soft mattress, she wraps her arms by your neck and pulls you into her lips once again. Mingi scoots over to the other side, takes off his shirt and joins in with your intertwining bodies on the bed.

He stares stupidly at the full view of Yooa’s figure reflected from the dim lights of the room. As his hands slowly creep upon her waist, he blurts out, “Damn, your body still looks fine as hell, just the way as I remember it.”

“Go on then, take off her clothes. You’ll get a better view that way,” you respond before going back to Yooa’s lips.

“Stole the words right out of my mouth.” 

Yooa's top is gone within seconds, and her bare breasts are finally fully exposed to your eyes. Perfectly round and perky with a set of brown protruding nipples, her tits are never disappointing, never failing to make you drool for it every time. Although before you could satisfy your own hunger, Mingi lands his lips onto them first while squeezing each boob gently in his palms. Her body starts to jerk at the pleasing touch, and the way your kisses trails across her neck and shoulders brings shivers down her spine. 

“Oh god, this feels, amazing…” Yooa breathlessly moans.

Intoxicated by her seductive tone, you and Mingi continue your teasing, or in one way to put it, worship her captivating body. A connection is made in both of your brains when the two of you dive mouth first on her erect nipples at the same time. Yooa throws her head back the more their tongues swirl around and suck on her areola, with each whimper driving both men nuts and hungry for more. 

Your idling hand then lands itself on her midriff, caressing each visible tone of her abs muscle that she worked on for years to maintain. It’s one of your favorite parts about her, though arguably, everything about her is perfect in your eyes. And obviously, the second man in the room shares the same thought, as his hands drift towards the heat between her legs, the main dish for the night. 

He slips it under her bottoms, and it is met with slickness on his fingers. A smirk is evident on his face. “Enjoying it so far, hun?”

“You— fuck— mmmh—” Yooa struggles to let out coherent words, her feelings still mixed around by the inconclusive thought that her past and present are on the verge of fighting for her pleasure, morals are being thrown away for the sake of discovering a new side.

Mingi makes contact with her vagina, his index and middle fingers help it to open up slightly, causing more of her juices to leak out. In the meantime, you continue to give love on her upper body, let it be her breasts, arms, pits, waist, stomach, anything deemed to be a part of Yooa is not leaving untouched by your kisses. Eventually, Mingi takes a big step by taking off the last article that’s left on her body. 

She moans at the feeling of being vulnerable and sensitive to the two men beside her, with the cold ambience of the room adding up to the cause of her shivering. After throwing the undergarment somewhere in the room, Mingi then moves himself in between of Yooa’s legs, but stops himself before going closer. 

“Dude, go for it. No need to ask me.”

Your mind immediately did a double take on what you said spontaneously. The words of affirmation goes straight out of your mouth with no hesitation whatsoever, and it baffles you how a few minutes ago, you are also unsure whether this was a good idea or not. It’s safe to say that you are now driven by only lust in this new experience, and you want to hope that it will get much better, because there are still a few doubts left in your mind. 

Mingi licks his lips in anticipation. Both of his hands hold onto her thighs, letting her to spread them apart as he descends his head lower towards her glistening pussy. He breathes out an impressed gasp, and his eyes are now locked upon his mouth-watering meal. Warm air grazes over her damp labia, and his fingers return to tease the opening to her walls. Yooa continues to squirm under your body due to Mingi’s immaculate touch, and desperation is imminent in her eyes. 

Yooa manages to reach over to the hem of your shirt to give it a little tug. You catch the message in an instant, so you take some time stripping down, leaving only your boxers to be your cover.

You groan deeply as Yooa fondles your confined erection for the second time. “So fucking hard, and full…”

Suddenly, she yelps in surprise and throws her head back in pleasure. Look to your right, and you’re greeted by the sight of Mingi devouring her pussy, lapping up all of her juices flowing out while gently penetrating her slit with his tongue. It freezes you in place for a second—this is a whole new appeal that strikes both arousal and fear inside you, but to be fair, it was all going in the way that you wanted it to be.

“I need— mmh, your cock, p-please?” Such a filthy request, coming from a goddess-like voice. 

Naturally, shyness overwhelms you. But why would you resist any further? It would be a big waste for you to dip out now. With a deep breath, you release your member from its confines, and it springs out hard and fairly warm. Salivating at the impressive length, she instinctively grabs it by the base, and strokes it gently with all that she can. More precum leaks out of your slit, an occurrence that has been happening since the beginning of the act, and it only grows better when it is finally shown to your girlfriend’s eyes.

The moment when Mingi sucks wholeheartedly on her pussy is when you begin inching your shaft closer to her face. As Yooa moans profusely with her mouth open, your tip makes contact with her plump lips and automatically, like a vacuum, it enters the wet cavern. The three of you are now connected in some way, and it is definitely a feastful sight to witness for those who are into it.

“She tastes so fucking good.” Mingi moans. “This never gets old.” 

Yooa is clearly getting accustomed with Mingi’s company in such a wicked act, and the same could be said to you, as your erection throbs over each lick to its underside and tip. It’s not a surprise that the view of Yooa’s gorgeous eyes locking upon yours as she takes you in more would drive your libido into overdrive.

“Just like that, princess. Good girl,” you groan.

Your hand having a firm grip on her head is something you rarely do, especially when you’re the one moving it further into your crotch. You’ve never gotten this rough with Yooa before, even your voice has dropped deep, filled with eagerness and dominance. As a copious amount of spit seeps out of her sealed mouth, so too does her vagina leak more, and it’s all thanks to the newly added two fingers thrusting in and out of her. 

Mingi is locked in, never leaving any parts of her pussy untouched and unstimulated. Be it with his lips or his fingers, he’s not showing any signs of halting his progress, amidst the suffocating clamp of her thighs around his head and the constant harsh jerks of her figure. The flame of passion continues to burn brighter, fueled by the girl’s wordless wails, intensifying with each of his rapid motions, all to gratify Yooa’s sensations. 

A thought comes across your mind, as you notice a small space on her crotch that’s left unattended—a perfect spot for another hand to lay upon. You slowly sneak your way to it, and the middle finger is immediately acquainted with her clitoris as it begins rubbing the flesh delicately. Alongside the vibrations from her mouth as she vocally expresses herself around you, a perfect cycle of pleasure is somehow made.

Disappointingly, the cycle is about to break after a while, as she is reaching her limits. Your shaft suddenly appears out of Yooa’s mouth, her back then arched itself perfectly while having both hands on Mingi’s head, holding on for dear life. Never uttering any complaints about the pain however, Mingi continues his feast like a hungry animal, gripping onto her thighs to make her stay put. 

“Oh my god, oh my god, I’m cumming! Fuck—”

Give her head a gentle rub. A little comfort is the final stretch she needs to reach her orgasm, and she cums hard. Her head falls back, as she sprays love juices all over Mingi’s face and drenching the bed sheets. You’re even more impressed by the fact that he didn't falter from the pressure of her squirting, and instead diving right back into it, all in order to lap up everything that she had to offer.

The high comes to an end when Yooa raises herself up to lean by the bed frame, her chest heaving to gather some air. “Goodness, that was amazing.”

“Wasn’t that bad huh, princess?” Mingi teases while wiping his face with his own shirt. 

Yooa nudges him on the chest. “Shut up.”

“So, what's next?” you ask.

The man in front of you smirks as he gently caresses Yooa’s chin. “Gotta say, I quite miss the feeling of these lips being around me.”

You couldn’t agree more. “Guess it’s my turn on the other side then.”

Yooa didn’t even get a single word in, and yet her body is already being turned around by the waist, forcing her to be on both knees. The tip grazes over her pussy, still freshly wet from her orgasm, and it easily receives the first inch of your shaft. While you begin pushing yourself into her more, Mingi finally relieves the pressure of his own, revealing his member to the girl's eyes.

His heart races intensely when Yooa looks up, her mesmerizing yet lustful gaze upon his pride is a view that would make any man fall. Focus on her plump lips, and he lines himself right in front of them. It then opens slightly, which gives him a chance to insert his length into her orifice. Though he twitches before he could move any further, her hot breaths grazing over his shaft forces him to leak more.

“Oh god, yes. That’s it, baby. Good girl.” Mingi breathes out.

Yooa’s body arches once both men successfully insert themselves from both of her ends. Dopamine rushes through her immediately, as her boyfriend goes in deeper while Mingi holds her head in place, not wanting her mouth to leave unexpectedly. She’s helpless—there’s almost nothing that she could do by herself as these two men had a chokehold on her entire being. 

Without you realizing it, the switch has finally been turned on, as you began thrusting into your love. 

You're a changed man. All of your worries have been swept away, obviously by the way you're making Yooa’s body tremble and jiggle with each move of your hips. You crave for her moans, but it was muffled up due to the second cock that's filling up all of the space in her mouth. A slight jealousy invades your thoughts, courtesy of how Mingi is enjoying the warmth of your girlfriend’s mouth, and it instinctively drives you to progressively extend your reach inside of her. You quickly shake it off your mind however—the trust you have for the both of them is strong.

Mingi strokes Yooa’s head gently. “That’s it baby. Look at me. Look at me while he’s stretching you out. Bet she feels so tight huh?”

“Oh, so fucking tight. Our princess is doing so well.”

Mingi gathers a bunch of Yooa’s hair to make a ponytail of some sort, turning it as his handle to begin fucking her mouth. She gags repeatedly as he goes in deep down her throat, drool forming on either side of her lips. With the way things are going, the pet name “Princess” wouldn’t really line up with how much filth there is plastered on her image—lips messy with saliva and precum, body fully sheen with sweat and teary eyes begging for more. For this night alone, she is the perfect fuckdoll for the both of you, her mind has been reprogrammed only to fulfill lust and submit to pleasure. 

Thrust after thrust, and she ascends to her climax once again, the vigorous vibrations felt on Mingi’s shaft becomes the sign of her pussy gushing out juices all over you. The two of you express praises for your princess by not halting the pace, motivating her to leak out more. 

“Aww, our princess is leaking out so much for us! Do you want us to go faster?” Mingi teases. 

You don’t need her confirmation. Your hands are already digging into her waist, gripping them as tight as you can while relentlessly driving your hips. Yooa's body goes numb—she couldn’t catch a break for even a second, as the two hungry beasts are going rampant, using every bit of what she has to offer physically. 

Mingi loves this scene. You may not realize it, but other than being the second cock inside of your girlfriend, he has successfully turned you into the complete opposite of what you are in bed before. From being the submissive one, who lets all the work done by the girl, you’ve become the dominant one that takes control over everything, driven only by desire. In addition to that, the possessive side of yours was really starting to show its fangs, constantly asking Yooa who’s her real owner is.

She manages to release herself from her ex’s cock, before blurting out, “I’m yours, I’m yours! Only you oppa—” 

You cut her off by yanking her hair, pulling her closer to you. “Did I tell you to stop sucking him off?” 

Yooa moans profusely as your thrusts are put into a halt, the whole shaft sealing up her holes, forcing the walls to contract in. Though, you brush it off like it was nothing and manage to turn her body around to face you once more.

Almost immediately after you left her pussy, the neediness overpowers her as she gets all whiny, pushing her crotch against yours repeatedly. “Fuck, please please please, I need more, I need more—”

You calm her down and reach close to her right ear, “I’m about to show you, baby. Slow down.”

“God, that’s so fucking hot.” Mingi speaks out, his gaze locked towards the two of you while he idly strokes his member.

A smirk lands across your face. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Mingi moves himself behind Yooa and wraps his hands on her waist. “You don’t need to tell me twice. I know what our princess really wants.”

The girl giggles as Mingi brings her into his lap, her back resting against his muscular frame. His shaft appears right in between her thighs, and he guides it to the other hole that hasn’t been invaded by anything yet. Her legs shake when the man behind her slaps his cock over the puckering hole, but you hold them in place before the tip finally begins penetrating it. Thanks to him facefucking Yooa earlier, her saliva acts as some sort of lube to ease the friction when entering her extremely tight ass.

“Holy shit, you’re so fucking tight.” Mingi moans. 

While Mingi struggles to penetrate your girlfriend’s back door deeper, you move yourself right in front of the two, letting your cock to rest against her midriff. You witness the way Yooa’s face contorts as Mingi brings her down more, biting her lips as response to the painful yet pleasuring act—she’s still so gorgeous amidst everything, and you crave for more. 

“I’m going in now, princess. Now, be a good girl for us and don’t cum until I say so, okay?”

You smile at her small nod of approval, her wanting eyes looking upon yours as you line yourself up to enter her once again. It feels a lot more tighter now somehow, due to the fact that her walls are convulsing even more with the addition of Mingi from behind. Nonetheless, you both push through the obstacle, filling up her insides like snuffing a pillow into its own sleeve.

This feeling of being this full was too much for her, and Yooa definitely knows that this is her limit. But she wants to keep going, the pleasure is too addicting for her, even if she knows that she will be completely drained by the end of this. As the two men drive even further into her guts, the exchange of guttural exhales are the signs of her euphoria, peaking at levels that she didn’t know existed.

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod, fuuuuuuck!” Her head falls back as your whole shaft is finally inside her, and ironically, you try your best not to cum first, the sudden constriction of her walls puts you instantly on cloud nine.

All three of you go stiff for a moment, trying to regain some sense before proceeding with this new experience. You leaned down to share a few kisses with your princess, “Does it feel good, baby?”

“It f-feels so good! I feel so full, oppa!”

Mingi adds fuel to the fire. “Are you ready for more, princess?”

“Yes! Yes, yes, pleasepleaseplease, I need it so bad!”

God, she looks so fucking cute being all needy and whiny like that, you thought. With a deep breath, your hips began to move in and out between her legs, disappearing your shaft inside of her slick cunt. At the same time, Mingi thrusts up into your girlfriend’s ass, and her body recoils with each of his harsh movements.

Yooa realizes the difficulty of the task that she had been given. How can she hold herself from orgasming when there’s two fully erect cocks all up in her guts? Simple answer; she can’t. She’s trembling so much that it’s getting harder for the both of you to hold her in place. 

Feeling compassionate, you motivate her, “Hold it in, princess. You can do it.” 

“Yes, princess. You’re a good girl for us, aren’t you?” Mingi continues.

She nods profusely. The thrusts now grow even stronger on both ends, as a perfect alternating rhythm is achieved between the two men. Struggling to contain the pressure building inside her, you gave her a little distraction by letting her suck on two of your fingers. It’s evident that her patience is running out as she glares at you with pleading eyes. 

“Tell me what you really want, princess. I’ll let you cum if I hear what I want.”

“I— I want— both of you— cum inside—”

“Aww, our princess wants to be filled up! Surely we won’t disappoint her huh, Mingi?”

Mingi snickers, before replying, “Fuck yeah, let’s give her what she deserves.”

The two of you go off on her, chasing the imminent climax that all of you desire the most. It’s getting closer than ever; the astonishing view of Yooa’s holes being full of white, and the extreme waterfall of her delectable juices gushing out. A few more thrusts later, and it finally comes to fruition. Your grip on her waist tightens, holding her in place as you fill her pussy to the brim with your hot load. The manly groans in the room doubles as Mingi also reaches his own peak, cumming deep inside of your girlfriend’s ass, completing the vision that you never even thought of dreaming about before.

Amidst the overload of euphoria and shortness of breath, you manage to break Yooa’s short curfew, “Cum for us, princess.”

In an instant, the pressure inside her snaps. With a gut wrenching moan, you witness her third climax—the most you have ever seen. It went exactly as you have pictured, the way her squirt covers your entire crotch in an instant, pouring out an immense amount nonstop until it soaks up the bedsheets and the pure ecstasy reflected in her eyes, finally being fulfilled of her wish. 

“Holy fuck,” you first utter, after a few seconds of just heavy breathing. “That was insane.”

Yooa’s body falls weak on top of Mingi’s, her head resting by his shoulder. He flinches for a second, “You okay there, princess?”

“Fuck, you guys,” she says, as you pull out of her slowly. “I feel so full.” As Mingi also retreats from her ass, it immediately stuns you with a view of both of your thick loads escaping the freshly fucked holes.

You let out a satisfied sigh at her response. The night was a complete success! “You deserved it, baby.”

The mess all over the room was the wake up call to reality for all of you. As laughter starts to erupt when Mingi makes a joke about the hotel service, you realize that it was an eye opening experience, considering the amount of comfort you felt after sharing an intimate experience together. Exhaustion then starts to settle in, but not for the guest of the night.

“Where the heck is— oh, here it is.” Mingi finds his phone beneath the bedside table, and is soon shocked as soon as he opens it. “Oh, fuck.”

You ask, “What's wrong?” Mingi shows the screen to you, making you gasp. “Holy fu—19 missed calls?!!”

Mingi hisses, knowing how much he’s getting scolded in a few more minutes by Minju. “Yeeeeah, I gotta go.” He immediately springs out of bed and dresses up. “It was great by the way, I enjoyed it.”

“Yeah, we did too. Thanks a lot man. You take care now,” you reply.

Yooa pops out of the blanket, “Bye Mingi!”

After you witness Mingi swiftly leaving your hotel room, the focus is now back to your lover. With a strong yank of the blanket, Yooa’s naked figure is revealed to you once again. 

You’re not slowing down just yet.

“Huh? B-Babe? What’s wrong?” she reacts.

“We’re not done yet, princess,” you say as your hand trails over her waist. “I haven’t fucked you thoroughly.”

“W-Wait babe, at least let me cle—”

“That can wait. Besides,” you whispered close to her ear, “I’m gonna fill you up again.”

“Ahh! Babe! S-Slow down!”

===========================================

note; thank you so much for the commission anon, and thank you so much for your unwavering patience! this was definitely one of the hardest fics that i’ve worked on, but i hope that it was worth waiting for a year! 💀 

i still have some doubts about the concept of this story, and i know that there will definitely be some peeps that will not enjoy it because of the dynamic, but it's built itself that way just because i wanna make it entertaining in a way, so i hope i’ve done exactly that :)

special thanks to @ggidolsmuts for helping out with proofreading! as he’s the resident oh my girl stan, i had to ask for his touch and this fic would not be alive without his guidance 😔✊🏻

anyways, thank you so much for reading and have a beautiful day up ahead! <33

[lesbikaiser]

I love ur writing so much maybe even more than I love ness 😸😸 could you do ness w/ a biting kink?? I just know he'd probably be so possessive and want to put his mark all over you so everyone knows you're his hehe TYSM if u do it ilyy

hii babe! im glad you like it that much omg! ofc i can, i loooove the concept of jealous ness because it's so him to be like that! really hope you like this one <3

cw for a bit of blood!

ness' lips feel hot against your neck, his tongue licking down the column of your throat as sharp teeth drag against your flesh, teasing to mark your immaculate skin. his hands clutch the fabric of your clothing tight enough to get to your waist, it's probably bruising your sides but you don't seem to care when his hips are literally pounding into you, cock dragging on your sensitive walls and each thrust reaching a particularly pleasurable spot that has your eyelids fluttering shut and moans getting higher.

your sounds mix with ness' desperate whimpers right in your ear, his fluffy hair tickles your chin and the smell of his shampoo fills your senses, it's so sickeningly sweet – just like him. you shove your face into his locks when his dick reaches deeper, tip hitting harder against your g-spot and making you bite back a whine of his name. but he hears it, and it almost makes him cum.

your cunt feels incredible around him, wet, tight and warm, clamping down on his dick in a vice grip and sucking him in every time he pulls out, it nearly makes him forget what got him to bring you to the lockers and fuck you right on the sink.

keyword: nearly. he can't forget it though, how you showed up at his practice looking prettier than usual – he didn't think it was even possible. a sweet smile tugging at your lips as you waved your hand towards him, showing the bag he forgot when leaving your shared apartment and he swore your orbs were sparkling, hair silkier than how he remembered and skin glowing under the sunlight in a way he could get blind if he stared for too long – and he was ready to risk it because you looked exceptional. he couldn't take his eyes off your figure bouncing towards the benches, and it would be a perfect memory if he hadn't noticed how all of his teammates were suddenly too interested, beyond the acceptable for just being curious about the intruder.

no, they were all gawking at you, seated prettily and waiting for him to go talk to you.

that's why he interrupted practice, excusing himself from the field and running towards where you were patiently sitting, he could feel his colleagues' gaze piercing holes at his back as he grabbed your hand and pulled you with him, guiding your confused self into the lockers and glueing his lips to yours as soon you both got in.

he needs them to know you're already taken, needs it to be as clear as day that he's your boyfriend and you're the happiest with him.

he moves away from your neck, watching your glossy eyes and swollen, slightly parted lips with your tongue lolling out, you are so fucked out already, quiet whimpers leaving you as you try in vain to hold back, brows furrowed as you stare back at him. shit, how is he supposed to control himself when you look so pretty, so hot while getting railed?

and he's the only one who can get you like this. no one other than himself is able to satisfy you the way he does, and no one will ever get to love you the way he loves you.

with his fingers wrapping around one of your knees, he pushes your leg further open, drilling his cock inside your hole faster – harder, ripping a loud moan out of you as you bring your hand to cover your mouth, trying your best to stay quiet. the helpless glare you give him is enough to drive him insane, doe eyes silently pleading him to have mercy on you because the others might just hear it with how loud you both are being, the sounds of skin slapping against skin, his whimpers and your whines bouncing off the walls and echoing through the tiles.

but he needs to make it clear what you two are doing right now, and if he can't have them hearing, they'll surely see the evidences of it on you.

"they were all–ngh! all ogling you... filthy bastards, gotta make sure they know you're mine." circling your waist with his free arm, he brings your body even closer to his – it that's even possible. kissing down from your cheek to your jaw, then reaching your neck, he sucks a bruise right on your collarbone, where he knows your shirt won't cover and it's gonna catch the attention of whoever looks at you – anyone will know you're taken at first sight. you whine at the feeling, nails scratching his nape and ness thinks he might just cum on the spot – you're marking him too.

he doesn't stop at just one hickey, painting your neck red and purple from your jaw to your shoulders, tongue licking at every new mark to soothe your fragile skin, and with each one he can feel you clenching tighter and tighter around him, your inner thighs getting slippery with the amount of slick your sloppy cunt is gushing out, soaking his dick, pelvis and even the sink you're sitting on.

he knows you're about to cum anytime, and so is he. letting go of your knee, he brings his fingers to your neglected clit, rubbing the soft pad of his thumb against it and the moan you let out is simply insane, how you call his name so desperately as you seek your high – and he knows he's the only thing in your clouded mind.

you're his, and his only, and the way your throw your head back, presenting your bruised neck for him – he knows you want him to give you everything he got. and so he does, sinking his teeth on your flesh, biting you hard enough to draw blood – the metallic taste all over his tongue, it's delicious, even more when you cry out as you cum on his dick, walls spasming around him.

"mmph– alexis!" it's all too much for him, the taste of your blood, your moan of his name and your sweet pussy gushing all over his cock and abdomen, practically milking him dry, he cums so hard his vision goes white for an instant.

still mouthing on your soft flesh, there's a comfortable silent in the room as both of you come down from your highs, panting heavily against each other and whining when ness pulls out of your spent hole. he bathes in the sight of your colorful throat, admiring like a proud artist admires their art, it takes all out him to not get hard again when he spots the bite mark right where your shoulder meets your neck.

"mine~" he licks and kisses the print of his teeth on your skin, muttering a small 'sorry' when he sees you wincing at the stinging pain. coming to look you in the eyes, he showers your cheeks with smooches, making you giggle before giving the fatest kiss on your lips, orbs practically heart-shaped when he speaks. "love you, mein schatz. won't let anyone take you away from me."

let's say, nobody dared to look at you for too long when you both showed up a few minutes later, your neck covered in purple marks and ness' nape red with scratches.

[groundzerosgirlfriend]

A/n: Just binge watched all three seasons of Dr. Stone and Senku and Tsukasa can do whatever they want to me! Bark Bakrk woof Awooga!

Soft boyfriend Tsukasa: That revived you in this new stone world with the 'miracle fluid' after gathering a strong enough army, to ensure your safety at all times.

Soft boyfriend Tsukasa: That barely wants his right-hand man Hyoga to be around you unless it's absolutely necessary going out of way to forage, fish, and hunt with you.

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: That sits beside you for quality time as you sew and talk his ear off about everything that runs his mind and although he could spend his time elsewhere, where else would he want to be.

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: That is still as sweet as he was 3,700 years ago instead of carrying your books to school, he carries any prey you caught, any basket of mushrooms, and any firewood (He doesn't want his gorgeous girl working hard, what type of boyfriend would he be).

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: That ignores all the other attractive women (much to the disappointment of Minami) in his empire throwing themselves at him much preferring to keep his sights set on you. His one and only.

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Whose heart breaks as you finally see him firsthand destroy a statue of an older gentleman the crumbled rock around his feet and his gut twisting as your eyes prick the slightest tears.

Soft boyfriend Tsukasa: Who doesn't follow after you when your quick leave his vicinity not wanting to pressure you into talking to him, knowing how empathetic you are about a lot of things (It's one of the things he loves about you, but right now it's biting him in the ass).

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Whose heart beats harder than it ever has when comparing it to any of his grueling wrestling matches after a week of silence on your end you sit next to him at the campfire site just leaning your head on his shoulder.

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Who's about to apologize for slaughtering those statues in front of you and explain his reasoning behind his uncouth action is surprised when you tell him 'You don't mind.'

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Who stays quiet with ears open as you express that although you don't like what he's doing, you condone killing innocent people statues or not, but you won't question it or force him to stop knowing it has to be for good reason.

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Who places his huge hands-on top of yours just giving a gentle squeeze of acknowledgement and thankfulness, because in this moment no words need to be said as the fire crackles in front of you two.

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Who is now happier than he thinks he's ever been having both you and his newly revived sister free from her dreaded comatose (with the help of Senku) at his side.

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Who smiles the slightest bit and chuckles softly as he watches from the sidelines you entertain and play with his younger sister grateful that the two of you get along so well and even wondering if one day you would want a family with him. A blend of both of your genes.

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: That sacrifices his life with a spear piercing through his lung at the river side when Hyoga attempts to attack you and Miria. The last thing he sees before he falls into the river is you and Senku reaching out for him in a desperate attempt to catch him.

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: After his epic battle with Senku at his side he spends his last minutes alive breathing ragged and hoarse with you and the renowned scientist. His head in your lap and holding each other hands as he chuckles at Senku's attempt at small talk.

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: That whispers out a barely heard "I love you" but before you can even comprehend it and much less respond his eyes softly close, and his breathing comes to a permanent stop.

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Who unknowingly has you and his sister by his side the entire time he is in cold sleep. Barely leaving the makeshift refrigerator as you tell him stories and talk his ear off knowing that you won't get a response.

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Who when he's finally revived and healed from what were once permanent wounds hugs his teary-eyed little sister and looks around the cave space for you inconspicuously knowing you couldn't be far.

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Who finally spots you in the very back of the group your lip quivering as he cracks the softest of smiles and hold his arms open for you to rush into as you cry and snot all over his bare chest comforting you with the fact that he was alive and well now.

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Who even though was dead for months on end in that cold refrigerator somehow knew that you were by his side the entire time thanking you for never giving up on him.

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Who sits with you on the cave floor simply murmuring low sweet nothings in your ear as you cling onto him as if to make sure he's really alive and well, your head pressed against his chest to hear his heart beating once more.

Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Who says "Let me say it properly this time, my dear. I love you."

Extra: Soft Boyfriend Tsukasa: Who could most definitely manhandle you like a little ragdoll but refrains from it since you've never expressed interest in such rough treatment. But after he tosses you over his shoulder to carry you out the cave without asking in the heat of the moment and hears your delighted giggle, he'll be sure to bring that up with you.

[yuechihua]

the boy who chases the wind.

summary: After the taste of bitterness, there will come sweetness. Even after everything his master has lied to him about, Harumasa can't help but cling to those words.

notes: 7k, author's notes, spoilers for Harumasa's backstory, character study, one mention of drinking alcohol, depictions/references of panic attacks, depictions of piercing ears

i.

They abandon him to die, the faculty flooded with red lights and screeching sirens that hurt his ears, stampeding feet and panicked voices.  

Or perhaps they don’t abandon him; they forget him, but forgetting is still just a kinder form of death.

Harumasa should feel something, anything, but the panic around him feels like the distant crash of waves against the ocean shores he’s never seen. It’s there, he knows, but it’s not something that belongs to him. If he’s pulled away by the tides, then he was meant to drown.

He waits, hands folded on his lap in his hospital bed, medical supplies glowing scarlet with each pulse of the alarms. The only thing that he has, the only thing that’s truly his, is a yellow headband that he keeps tucked under his hands.

A boy like him is worth nothing more than the people who use him: this is a truth that has been ingrained in Harumasa’s bones, a lesson that’s been taught to him over and over, from the very beginning.

And he would have been okay with being a tool. As long as he is useful, he is in some capacity loved. 

“If you’ve experienced enough bitterness, then other parts of life can be sweeter.”

Isn’t that what his master taught him? But then, his master is gone. Has been gone for the past few days, and now the facility is in disarray. 

His master, who snuck him books and stuck him with needles that left behind purpling bruises, who taught him archery and injected him with clear fluid, who gave him cake on his birthdays and told him to endure during the worst of his flare-ups.

Perhaps Harumasa hasn’t been as useful as he should have been. Or perhaps, he’s no longer useful at all, and his master has left him for better experiments.

The only thing Harumasa has left is this headband. He could throw it away, but every time the itch to do so tremors through his fingers and he picks up the fabric, he can never bring himself to follow through.

Footsteps echo down his hallway, which sound heavier than the footsteps of the staff he’s come to know, and his door is wrenched open. People in suits and equipment and helmets, people he’s never seen before, stare at him with confusion, and then horror.

“There’s a child in here,” someone murmurs in disbelief. “They’ve been… on children… Those sick–”

A man in front raises his hand, and the murmurs fall silent. He strides to Harumasa, and peers down at him, a strange tenderness in his eyes. 

“You’re safe now, kid,” he rumbles, in a rough, low voice. “We’ve got you.” He reaches out a thick, gloved hand. “Do you want to come with us?”

And what else can he do? Harumasa takes the man’s hand. If he is useful, then he is loved. If he is needed, then he can live. And if he’s worth nothing at all, then he should just let go. But is that really all there is for him?

 “Yes,” he whispers. His throat is dry. He swallows, and speaks again, louder. “Yes.” He grips his master’s headband. Is the sweetness promised to him waiting just past this? “Yes.”

ii.

He pierces his ears in the high school academy dorm bathroom, bloody tissues strewn across the counter, catheter needle sliding into the tender flesh of his ear with a laughable slice of pain. 

Harumasa is alone, as he always is. The years ghost by, barely touching him. He grows older. His scars fade, but never completely. He does well in academics, does well with people. They love him, or they think they love him, the slouchy, easy-going genius. Love letters pile in his lockers. People ask to meet him after class, determination sparking in their eyes.

He always turns them down, as gently as he can. They deserve to give their affection to someone who’s capable of loving them back. 

In the bathroom mirror, his own face stares back at him. His uniform is unbuttoned at the top, his hair messy (in an artful way, he likes to think). Dark circles bruise under his eyes, and his ear is bright red as he pushes the needle through to the very tip, placing the earring at the top of the needle until it pops out from the other side and the earring is left in his lobe.

He pushes the earring back in, and admires his handiwork. 

It should hurt more. But the pain is as easy as it always is when it comes to needles.

Here, then, is a body, his own. Marked by his own hand and not others, for once. Will this make him more real?

Harumasa has always had this nagging knowledge, pooling in the back of his mind, a stagnant puddle. He is no person, no life; only the purest form of hunger, a constant, endless roving desire for survival. He does not know what comes after. There is no after, only a desperate clawing for another day. Isn’t that what a tool is reduced to, after years of rusting?

He will die one day. His fate had already been decided the second the doctor gave him his diagnosis. He was expendable once, and he is expendable now. What does living really mean, when every minute is precious and trickles towards a predetermined ending?

In the mirror, his master’s headband stares back at him. A relic of the past that he hasn’t been able to let go. A reminder of things he can’t forget.

Harumasa picks up another sterilized needle, and slides it into his other earlobe, marked by a small yellow dot. The pain, as it always is, is his oldest, most familiar friend.

iii.

Did he survive just for life to pass like a dream?

He graduates with honors, top of his class, with recommendations from the most difficult to please professors.

“He’s a genius,” people marvel when they see him, and he hides his calloused hands behind his back, adjusts the choker over his scars, and smiles. 

Easygoing, playful, an incorrigible slacker: he’s been careful to craft how other people perceive him, but it’s still easier than expected. No one has ever truly looked at him, or maybe they prefer this palatable version of himself. Easy to love, easy to envy, easy to tolerate.

He’s recruited to Hollow Special Operations. He joins Section One, their sterling recruit. No one complains when he walks in with rumpled uniforms and an unbuttoned shirt. No one complains much of anything, in fact. It’s quiet and dull, the pay is nice, and as long as he produces results, no one says anything about his constant leave requests.

At home, Harumasa sits alone at his table, takeout cartons crowding in front of him, watching whatever cheap movie he’s rented for the week. If he never goes into work again, if he ran away into a Hollow or walked into the sea or his heart simply gave out, how long would it take someone to notice, and then to care? 

Life could pass like this forever, but one day, a transfer request is slipped on his desk, and suddenly, he is no longer Asaba Harumasa, Section One Executive Officer, but a member of Hoshimi Miyabi’s elite squad of Section Six, personally recruited and handpicked.

It’s easy enough to find her, the city’s youngest Void Hunter, heir to a family with a lineage so prestigious it makes his head spin, leaving behind a trail of frost in her wake. People fall silent in front of her, respectful or fearful of a genius, though her status has never done much more than stir his curiosity. 

They’re a little similar, Harumasa likes to think, in some ways.

Miyabi is alone, inspecting her new office, every surface polished and shining to the point it hurts his eyes, the room smelling of something empty and clean. It’s ripe with possibility, of newness, of an unsullied ideal that makes his heart ache.

“Hoshimi Miyabi,” he says, voice filled with a careful laziness. “Or is it Chief now? You’re my boss, right?”

She turns, and even that movement is ridiculously elegant, her steps light and poised, not a single wasted gesture. Even death would be rendered beautiful by her hand. “I’m not officially your chief until tomorrow. The paperwork hasn't finished processing.”

“Right, right, but functionally, you’re my boss, aren’t you? Say, Chief, you wouldn’t mind if I took a few days off after orientation, right?” he says. “Or are you going to expect us to go into dangerous Hollows right away? I don’t know if Section One has told you, but I’m a little fragile. Are you sure you want to trust me?”

She tilts her head, another efficient gesture, and her eyes seem to swallow him whole. It’s a little frightening, how she stares directly at him without any hesitation or fear, like there’s nothing he can truly hide from her.

“I chose you,” she says, “not because of what other people say, but because Section Six needs you, Asaba Harumasa. I trust what I see with my own eyes.”

He knows all about what it means to be needed. But somehow, Miyabi’s expectations don’t feel suffocating. 

“All right,” he says, voice as light as possible. Miyabi’s ear twitches, and he knows she isn’t convinced by his lackadaisical demeanor. But it’s enough that she allows him this pretense. “Then I’ll look forward to working with you, Chief.”

She doesn’t smile, but she doesn’t need to. It’s enough that she keeps her cool gaze on him, and Harumasa is seen.

iv.

To Harumsa’s surprise, he’s not the only recruit to Section Six. There’s Tsukishiro Yanagi from the New Eridu Defence Force, and you. It only makes sense that Miyabi would recruit people she could trust, and people with such impressive achievements in their careers, though you stand out as an oddity in that respect.

Your resume is impressive, certainly: top academics, honors, prestigious internships, and glowing recommendation letters from professors who can’t stop raving about your skills. But you have virtually no combat experience on the field, so you’re still a risk, one Miyabi has willingly taken, for whatever reason.

Besides, genius is nothing special to him. You remind him of every bright-eyed recruit at the academy with something to prove, and it’s only a question of how your dreams and ideals will survive when faced with the pressure of the numbing work, the relentless threats, the difficult decisions.

You approach him in the very first week, presumably on Miyabi’s orders, with a mission dossier in your hand.

“We’ll be working together, starting from today,” you tell him. Your uniform is ironed to flat perfection, not a single crease in sight. It’s a far cry from his own rumpled clothing and the jacket tied loosely around his waist, which you scan with a critical eye.

“Glad to hear it,” he says. “What are we working on today, partner?” 

You flick through the sheets of paper. “Meetings, as always. Some reports and a joint training session with Section Four. Oh, and a venture into Hollow Zero for a routine check-up.”

“We have to do all of that? I don’t have the stamina to keep up.”

“Well, it’s what’s expected of us,” you say. “We’d only be assigned so many tasks if they trusted us to handle them well.”

Your posture is stiff, your shoulders tense. You don’t like him, Harumasa realizes, or you don’t think he’s taking this seriously. And maybe he isn’t, but your reaction makes him want to poke at you, just to see how you’ll react. He has a feeling you’d react just like a cat, hiss or scratch him and run away, but, unfortunately for you, he has a fondness for cats.

“In that case, do you think you’d be okay handling it by yourself?” he says, voice as innocent as he can make it. “Since I’m technically your senior, you can think of it as me having high expectations for you.”

“Excuse me?”

“Tsukishiro is around if you need any help,” he says. “I’d offer, but I’m a little too frail for all of that work, you know? I might have to take a day off tomorrow if I do.”

“I’m not going to push your work off onto someone else, and I’m also not going to do it for you! You’re an Executive Officer!”

“Don’t be so serious. You won’t last long here if you don’t relax a little,” he teases.

You’re silent for a few moments. Has he gone too far? But before Harumasa can say anything, you stride forward until you’re close enough to grab his wrist. Your grasp is tight enough that he can’t slip away, but still gentle enough that it doesn’t hurt. It’s a thoughtful touch.

“I don’t care what excuses you want to make,” you snap, “and you can do whatever you want in your free time, but we are going to fulfill every piece of this agenda together. I’m not letting you go until we do!”

“All right,” he says hastily, because you look like you’re one second away from slapping handcuffs onto him so he can’t escape. “I didn’t take you for someone who cared so much about your job.”

You tilt your head at him. Your hand is as warm as a spring day. “Well, the entire city is counting on us. There are so many people out there who need us to protect them.”

Underneath your cool tone of voice, he can sense it: your genuine desire to be needed. To do something real. That is something, he thinks, he can understand.

“I guess we can’t let down all the good people of New Eridu, partner,” Harumasa says. “I’m all yours, just for today. So, where to?”

v.

The best remedy for work reports, Harumasa finds, is folding them into paper airplanes and sailing across the room, trying to see how many can land in the trash can. As it is, only several have made it in, and the rest have crashed across the office floor at various intervals.

He aims another airplane in a lazy arc and it only makes it halfway through the air before Yanagi strides into the room and plucks it out of the air with expert precision. She unfolds it and shakes her head at him, smoothing it out in her hands before placing it back on his desk. “Asaba, don’t fold your reports into airplanes.”

“I’m finding a good use for them,” he protests.

“They’re already useful as mission reports. I have a few updates for you,” she continues. “I scheduled your doctor’s appointment for next week.”

“Deputy Chief,” he whines, but she ignores him. 

“You get to take a day off work to attend, but it will count towards your monthly leave requests.”

“Oh?”

“Don’t sound so pleased. We have a meeting later today, one which you aren’t allowed to skip. And this is an interpersonal request, but I want you to stop teasing your deskmate so much,” she says. 

“Who on earth are you talking about?” Harumasa says in an oblivious voice.

“You know who I’m talking about. You’re going to drive them half-mad if you keep this up!”

“It’s fun, though.”

“Fun for you, not for them.”

“I think they enjoy it. Do you see how they get all stiff and they wrinkle their nose? They’re like a cat,” he muses. “Maybe they need a mouse toy for their desk.”

“If you do that,” Yanagi says, voice worldworn, “Then I think I’m going to have to clean bits and pieces of you out of the office tomorrow.”

He laughs a little at that, but Yanagi’s expression doesn’t change. Though he’s had brief run-ins with Tsukishiro Yanagi when he was still a part of Section One, this is his first time working with her in such close proximity for an extended period of time. Her accomplishments in the New Eridu Defense Force are startlingly impressive, and, in all honesty, she’s the only reason Section Six runs as well as it does. 

You do your fair share of work, sure, but Miyabi, and Soukaku, Yanagi’s ward who joined a little after everyone else, create their own fair share of trouble. And he does, as well, if he’s honest.

Yanagi is overly serious, and yet, so unwilling to admit to her own achievements. She’s the sort of person who he, contrary to what some may think, admires. She’s the type who thinks of others before herself, and it’s hard to truly dislike her when there’s no genuine malice to her actions. Unlike Miyabi, Yanagi’s type is easy to understand.

But there’s also the risk that Yanagi will eventually burn herself out if she assumes that overwork is the only way she can keep up with everyone else.

Ah, well. That only means he has to pick up more of the slack than he intended for Section Six’s hardworking Deputy Chief.

“Tsukishiro,” Harumasa says instead. “Why’d you have to make my appointment?”

She adjusts her glasses, pushing them further up her face. “If I didn’t, you would have put off making it until the last minute. That’s a bad habit, Asaba. You need to take care of your own health.”

“If you think so, then my next leave request—”

“I will not be accepting it for you,” she says immediately. 

“I thought you cared about my health!”

“I do,” she says. There it is again, the seriousness in her voice that makes it hard to look at her sometimes. “I want all of you to stay healthy. Which is why if you skip your next medical appointment, Asaba, then I’m going to reject all of your leave requests for the month.”

“You’re so unfair, Deputy Chief,” he says, fingering the work report she’s placed on his desk. It’s still creased from where he’s folded it.

“Only when I have to be,” she says. “Now, don’t let me hear you’ve skipped this appointment, or I’ll make more follow-ups for you. Do you hear me?”

“Yeah, I do,” he groans.

It’s a strange feeling. None of his coworkers in Section One would have cared for him as much as this. It’s strange, but not bad.

vi.

Harumasa can’t quite put it into words why he can’t leave you alone.

It’s your reaction, sure. You’re serious and straightforward and responsible, and when you snap back at him, it only makes him want to push at your buttons again.

It could also be the novelty of how you never avoid his eyes, and refuse to hide your distaste for his actions, like so many of his coworkers had done in Section One. No one in general talks so openly to him like this, outside of those in Section Six.

“Your weapon makes no sense. You’re going to slice off your fingers pulling your bow one day,” you would tell him. “And I know you’re the one drawing cats on my work reports! Cut it out!”

Or maybe it’s the need in you, the deep, drowning need, familiar to him as if it’s his own. To be loved, or to be needed, or to be useful. If he looks too close, then he’ll sink too far into it, too far into you. 

So as fun as it is to mess with you, Harumasa knows to keep his distance. It’s easier this way, and better for the both of you.

And perhaps everything could have continued like this, a string of warm days and aimless teasing, until a venture into a Hollow with the entire section, one that should not have been different from any other.

There’s a swarm of Ethereals around, more than usual, and it takes all of your respective concentration to cut through their numbers. So perhaps, in the thrum of intense battle, he doesn’t react as quickly as he should before an ink-black monster is on him, roaring, wild strikes aimed at his neck.

Harumasa jerks back, shoots several arrows in rapid succession through its headless core, and then he feels it. A weightlessness around his neck, a strange nakedness.

His choker coils on the floor, a shining black snake.

He tries to suck in a quick breath, but he can’t quite manage it.

His choker. His neck. He can feel the itch of scars, of phantom injections, of the Hollow’s corruption weighing down, and he slaps his hands over his neck, a wild attempt to protect himself.

But there’s no point. Black spots swim in front of his eyes. He’s useless. He needs to move. The sound of metal and corrupted claws are so distant. Is everyone trying to keep them away from him? He has to move. He has to. 

Pick himself. Keep going. It’s what he’s always done, so why can’t he now?

Something warm lands on his head, solid and comforting and real, pressing against the back of his neck. You’re in front of him, white work shirt fluttering as you smooth your jacket down the side of his face. He’s cocooned, and the world shrinks down to just this: you, and him.

“Harumasa, look at me.” A rustle of fabric. Your gloves flutter to the dirt below, stark and black. And then— warm hands. The warmest hands he’s ever felt, cradling his face, bringing his wane face to yours. 

A smear of blood across your cheek. Sweat beading across your forehead. But your eyes are beautiful, steadfast and luminous. Like the moon, lighting his way home.

“You’re okay,” you say, voice so quiet, as if it’s meant for no other ears than his. “You’re okay, I promise.” 

He can’t breathe. He can’t do anything, but stare at you, sweat trickling down his face.

“Look at me. Tell me what you see right now.” 

He swallows, the gesture thick and unnatural. “I see…” 

“Yes?” 

“You.”

“That’s right. And what else?” 

He feels stupid, childish, as his voice comes out in a slow wheeze. “The… sky. The ground.”

“And can you smell anything?”

“Blood. Sweat. Dust.”

You don’t move your hands from his face, and even if you had, he would have chased after your touch without a shred of reticence. But you keep your hands steady, your voice soothing, as you run through questions about what he can sense. He answers you without hesitation, until his breathing steadies and the world is no longer spinning.

You keep your jacket wrapped around him as you bend down and grab his choker, pressing it into his hands.

You must be curious, surely, about his reaction, his sudden uselessness in the Hollow. But you never speak. All you do is take his hand and guide him out somewhere less crowded, less noisy. The others have already moved on, a decision that they seemed to have made with you while he wasn’t focusing.

But your hand is warm. So warm, as warm as it was on the day he first met you. Like this, he would follow you anywhere.

vii.

Harumasa wakes with pain radiating from his chest like a starburst, limbs weak, nausea crowding the back of his throat. Sweat coats his body, a migraine pulverizing his brain into useless mush. 

Harumasa can barely breathe, let alone stand. It’s all he can do to fumble for the pills scattering his nightstand, swallowing them dry out of desperation. It takes the slightest edge off his pain, just enough that he can reach for his phone and construct a blithe message to Yanagi about not coming into work and cashing in one of his sick days, before losing it among his blankets.

He passes the next hour in and out of consciousness, a fitful sleep eluding him before the pain jolts him awake.

In a way, he’s grown used to functioning with a certain amount of pain. His weak lungs, his unstable heart. People can adapt to anything, and even constant pain can become mundane. But other days, his illness flares with an intensity that leaves him immobile.

In moments like this, curled among his blankets, knees pulled up, unable to do more than wait, Harumasa thinks about the life he’s built: the parents who he no longer remembers. The haze of pain of his youth, sterile white hospital walls and perpetual needles. His master, who patted his head gently and then abandoned him. The academy, where he passed aimless days. Graduation, where no one was there to give him flowers. Section One, which was cold as a grave, full of grim orders and blank coworkers. Crowds of pills in his cabinet and on his bedside, several which are for daily use, taken every morning and every night at a consistent time, and the others for managing moments when his pain is unbearable.

But there’s also Section Six, who welcomes him like he’s coming home every time he opens the office doors. The stray cat who hops onto his windowsill everyday, who hisses at him but can be coaxed with bits of canned food to lick at his fingers. You, who has held him with a touch so tender it makes him want to stay by your side forever.

Harumasa is still going to die. He’s long made his peace with this, the knowledge that everything must come to an end. No matter what he does, it only prolongs his inevitable ending. But until then, he is still alive.

It might not have been the best life, or even a very good one, but it’s his, one’s he fought for with every bit of his blood and tears to keep and hold. He’ll survive, swallow every bit of bitterness for even a hint of sweetness in his future.

Every year, the probability of his survival lowers. So every birthday, he thinks, is a miracle. Every moment longer he has is an opportunity he can’t waste.

Like his master’s headband, which he still wears even now. There are things he can’t let go, that he will cling on to no matter what.

This is what living is, a taste so sweet it makes him crave more.

viii.

Moonlight spills into the office by the time Harumasa is ready to go home, several hours past the time he usually clocks out of work. 

He stands, stretches, and does a slow circle around the office. Everyone else has already left, Miyabi and Soukaku dragging Yanagi out before she could pull her third all-nighter at the office. It’s empty—or at least, he thinks it is before he finds you, flung along the couch hiding near the back of the office, head resting on the armrest, cheek pressed into the smooth fabric. 

You must have fallen asleep, and he hadn’t even noticed. It’s funny how that works: he’s perpetually aware of your presence, the most accidental brush of your skin against his making his nerves spark, and at other times, he’s lulled into a gentle peace in your presence, letting his guard dangerously low around you.

He pads over to the office lighting and flips it off, so the room plunges into sudden darkness, lit only by the liquid silver light of the moon puddling on the floor. You must be exhausted, running back and forth all the time, voluntarily working overtime alongside Yanagi.

Dedication to your job, perhaps, a noble profession that serves as a guiding light for the people of New Eridu. Are you aware of the corruption that lurks beneath the surface, the stink of ill intentions? Or is it something that guides you to do better instead?

He drifts back to you, pulled like the tides by the moon. You look peaceful, younger, moonlight softening your face and pooling in the hollow of your throat. If he folds his legs underneath him, there’s enough space on the couch for him to lay his head next to yours, close enough he can see the breath fluttering in your throat, the light exhalation and sign of life.

His hand just barely grazes along your jaw, but he can’t bring himself to touch you, not fully, though he can still feel the heat emanating from your skin. 

It’s obvious what you think of him. He’s irritating, a slacker, someone who only gets in your way–but there’s an edge of fondness in your voice now. The teasing and exaggerated eye rolls has become your new routine. Lately, you’ve started to doodle cats with little pouts on his papers, or bring back an extra cup of bitter black coffee for him when you’re out running errands.

Sometimes, he imagines what it would be like to grow older by your side. He’s always been fascinated by the wrinkles of the elderly, the gray hair, the worn joints, the various markers of a life well-lived and loved.

But he doesn’t have the luxury of aging, and he can’t envy what was never his.

You make him feel afraid of things he’s never been afraid of before. One day, you will only remember him from the yellowing pages of a photo album. He will stay the same forever, in the bloom of youth, while you drift further and further from him. You will always recognize him, but the face he sees now won’t be the one you will always have. You will change, and time will unmoor him from you. 

He can’t pull any closer than this. This is the safest distance, this easy fondness, the meaningless flirtations. Never any step closer, into a space where the two of you could be hurt. 

What is it that you want? A love? A family? A dream? He wants you to have it all, to indulge in every desire, every joy. Your life is a miracle, the greatest miracle he knows.

ix.

“Harumasamasa, you’ve gotten a lot of letters and gifts again! Is there any food in them? Is there?” 

Soukaku bounds up to him, all overeager, enthusiastic excitement and expectant eyes. He tosses several packages at her, wrapped in cheerful colors, which she catches with startingly precision. “Just a few chocolates and cookies,” he says. “They’re all yours, Soukaku.”

“Yay!” She tears into them with abandon. It’s a ritual they’ve developed over the months, where, when he’s flooded with sweets from fans he never knows what to do with, Soukaku is the one to sweep them up. It’s better than letting them go to waste.

Harumasa flips through a few letters as she talks, all personalized notes and careful handwriting on cute stationary, declarations of love and admiration and gratitude. Soukaku and you get your fair share of fan mail, though no one can beat Miyabi when it comes to the mountain of love letters on her desk. 

It’s part of the job, the fanservice, but it doesn’t mean it’s one he enjoys. You’re careful with your letters, and he doesn’t know what Miyabi does with hers, but this simply feels like a repeat of school: confessions he can’t accept, that pile up uncomfortably in the corner of his room until he throws them away because there’s nothing else to do with them.

“You don’t look happy, Harumasa,” Soukaku says, her cheeks stuffed with chocolate.

“Hm? Why wouldn’t I be happy? All these people love us so much,” he says. Soukaku is sweet and earnest in a way that makes him cognizant of how he interacts with her; Yanagi has done her best to protect Soukaku, so it wouldn’t be right for him to ruin those efforts. The world can be cruel and kind in equal measure, and she deserves to believe in that kindness before anything else.

“Because you always tell others to do whatever they want with your letters.”

“But I won’t have any room to nap if I let all my letters pile up! Besides, it’s not good for me to accept letters from people whose feelings I can’t cherish properly, right?”

Soukaku tilts her head like a puppy. “Does that mean you would be happy with a letter from them?” She points at your desk, situated right next to his, with its clean surface and neatly stacked files and supplies.

Harumasa hands her another package of chocolate, which Soukaku tears open. Every once in a while, she has a flash of sharp insight that reminds him why Soukaku has been allowed to join Section Six. 

“I don’t think there’s a reason they need to write me a letter,” he says. “We talk every day.”

Soukaku pops several chocolates in her mouth, swallowing it in one giant gulp. “Nagi says sometimes it’s easier to say things over letters, because there are things you can’t say right when you try to say them out loud. So maybe they would be happy if you sent them a letter, too.”

“Do you think we need to talk, Soukaku? Me and them?”

She brings her fingers together, fidgeting with them over and over, eyes shifting away. “You look sad when you’re talking to them and they can’t see, so I thought maybe there’s something you can’t say. And sometimes you look like you’re going to go somewhere far away, and I get scared you’re really going to leave, Harumasamasa. And I really like you, so I don’t want you to leave us. So…! That’s why you should send each other letters!”

His heart aches at her voice, earnest and slightly afraid. Though Yanagi has kept the precise details of her past quiet, he knows enough about what happened to the Onis to guess at what she’s gone through. And she’s young, still so young.

“I’m not going anywhere, Soukaku,” Harumasa begins, placing a hand on her hair and ruffling it. “I promise, okay? I won’t leave you or anyone else behind. So don’t worry.”

She sniffles. “Okay. You’ve promised. So you can’t break it.”

“I won’t break it,” he says. It’s a lie, but what could he say otherwise, when she looks at him with such a hopeful expression? Soukaku’s is one heart he can’t break.

x.

They’re half an hour into the party before Harumasa decides it’s been long enough that Yanagi can’t be mad if he escapes for some air.

The party is some private, stuffy affair with the City’s elite, all elegant crystal and tailored silk and calculated words that make him yawn. He knows what these sorts of people are like, and what they expect, so it makes him laugh under his breath to see them flustered at Soukaku’s cheer, uncaring of their games, and Miyabi’s blunt words, cutting through their pretenses.

You and Yanagi are the ones socializing and trying to keep things professional, but from the tight set of your smile and the way you clutch your wineglass like you’re considering using it like a weapon before you set it down, a break is in order. The person you’re talking to is also leaning far too close, and you keep angling your body away from him, a hint he can’t seem to take.

You look like a dream under the soft, warm lights, in an outfit he knows you agonized for hours before deciding on something tasteful and sleek.

Harumasa materializes right next to your elbow, cat-like grin on his face, hands shoved in his pockets. His tie is slightly askew, his collar popped open, his choker shining. He’s not in the most elegant suit in the room, but it’s his best one.

“I need them for a moment,” he says, smiling. “Pardon us.”

The person you’re talking to blinks. “But–”

“Official HSO business. It’s very urgent. And private,” he emphasizes, hand drifting to settle on your waist, pulling you infinitesimally closer to him.

“It’s true,” you say, jumping on the lifeline he’s offered you. You give a half-apologetic shrug. “I have to go now. The Hollows wait for no one.”

With that, the two of you are gone, striding across the room. He hasn’t lifted his hand from your waist, and you haven’t moved away. Neither of you speak until you’re out in the hall, where a sudden hush descends, lush carpet and imposing artwork muffling the sound of voices and muting the golden light.

“Let’s go there,” you say, pointing to a set of frosted glass doors, draped by lacy curtains.

He obliges, and steps out onto a balcony, a cool breeze sending the curtains swirling behind the two of you. Moonlight gilds everything in silver, and you break from him as you step up to the stone ledge, taking a deep breath. Below, the city lights glow in the distance, spreading out before you like a paradise.

“I needed this,” you say. You rest your elbows on the balcony.

He steps closer to you, until you’re side by side. “I thought so.”

“Thanks.” You smile briefly at him, a look that’s more open and genuine than the one you had given your previous conversational partner. “I know we need to do this for funding and PR, but it gets exhausting.”

“Well,” he says, “You’re part of HSO. People can’t be too mad at you if you take advantage of that. There’s only so much they can say to one of the city’s heroes.”

You laugh. “I know. I’ve seen you do exactly that, you slacker. You’re hardly up to dress code. Did you even iron your suit?”

“I didn’t see the point,” he says.

“I knew it. But like you said, it’s fine. You’re part of HSO. People call you a lazy genius, you know? You have a reputation that precedes you.”

“I didn’t know you talked about me like that to other people.”

You open your mouth as if you’re about to make another joke, before closing it, contemplating him. “No, I’ve just heard what people have said about you. I mean, to be honest, I thought that way at first. But then I noticed you actually work hard. A lot harder than you want other people to notice. Besides, we’re partners. I’ll have your back, and you’ll have mine.”

“You’re unexpectedly open tonight. What was in your drink?” he says. “Isn’t this the part where you tease me or make some jab at my work ethic?”

“I want to be honest with you sometimes,” you declare. “And I’m also a little tipsy. So don’t get too used to any compliments.”

It’s unbearable, sometimes, to see you like this. He wants to hold you like something he cannot have, something he doesn’t deserve.

“If we’re being honest, then I want to show you something,” he says. Harumasa touches your hands, and brings them to his neck, the movement slow and deliberate, until your fingers brush against his choker.

His heart quickens, the familiar bile rising in his throat. You’re close, too close, and he can feel the old wounds flare until his choker, igniting that familiar fear even at your gentle touch. It’s pain and pleasure, mixing together in a way that makes him feel light-headed.

You brush your fingers along the slick material, all the way to the back of his choker, right at the clasp that keeps them together. You hold your fingers there, waiting, staring into his eyes, but he doesn’t look away, and so with a single snap, his choker flutters away. The weight is gone, and his neck is bare.

Harumasa lowers his eyes to the ground, bending his neck like a lamb to slaughter. You brush back the hair on his neck, fingers ghosting along his skin. His breathing is shallow as your fingers explore every tender, sensitive inch of him. 

It’s too much. It’s too much—and then your fingers are gone as you kiss his neck, a ticklish, fluttering feeling that sends his nerves alight with liquid flame. His old scars flare against the brush of your soft lips, wounds aching, ripped open anew.

There’s the faintest edge of teeth as you nip against his skin. He wishes you would sink your teeth in deeper, marking him as yours. You could do anything you wanted to him, anything at all. Your violence would be salvation, your touch a blissful cruelty.

He tries not to make any sound as you place another kiss along his bare, slender neck. It’s too sensitive, and he can feel every inch of your touch. It’s painful, and he wants you to kiss him until he’s numb and afraid and you are all he can remember.

Something familiar clicks around his neck. His choker. The weight of it grounds him, and Harumasa lets out a slow breath. When he looks back up at you, you look uncharacteristically hesitant and nervous.

“Was it too much?” you murmur, fiddling with your fingers.

In response, all he can do is take one of your hands in his own. Hands that have saved him, over and over, in ways he can name and ways he can’t.

You’re quiet as Harumasa brings your fingers to his lips and wets the tip of them with his tongue, gentle as nothing else. He can taste the sweetness of your skin, and feel the slight tremor of your hand. To anyone else, you would be stone, efficient, responsible, impenetrable. 

It’s a beautiful part of you, as every part of you is beautiful. But to Harumasa, who holds any part of yourself that you offer with a greedy intensity, you are love itself, and so he will know you like nothing else.

You let out a little gasp as he laps at your fingers again. He nibbles at your forefinger, a teasing edge of teeth. You’re sweeter than life itself, and he could get drunk off of you, again and again. 

There are things he’s afraid to say, things he can’t give you. He is afraid, always afraid. Afraid of you, afraid of the day this choker will fall from his neck forever and he’ll turn into something you can’t recognize, afraid of the tears he’ll make you shed. 

He has never been someone who could accept love, who could live with an ordinary relationship, with an ordinary happiness. This is as far as he can go, and this is enough for a man who has never had anything before this. To stay by your side, to treasure every moment with you, to be accepted so wholly. 

Life is cruel and life is kind, but this is a life all his own, one he has built and chosen for himself. No matter what happens after, Harumasa will always remember this: the sweetness of this life of his.

[sunsbaby]

when dean falls for the oldest trick in the book, a sirens song...

or you begin to feel things for your prey, things you do not yet understand which come crashing down unexpectedly

﹏﹏﹏

dean winchester x siren .ᐟ reader now playing...

! mentions of death. stalking. blood. kissing.

𓂁

dean found himself by the shore, baby parked by the sandy beach and a beer in his hand. he needed an escape from whatever hunt they were on. he couldn't remember what it was they were hunting. his feelings were eating him up from the inside out and sam was no help. he watched the moonlit waters crash against each other. losing himself in the bottle.

you swam beneath the blue waters–now almost black in the night. stalking your prey was usual, especially if they were as skilled as a hunter was. though, this one was not alert, instead he stood completely vulnerable. his hands clenching a bottle and with a troubled look decorating his handsome features.

you found yourself perched on top of a rock, after endless days of watching, it was time to act.

songs spewing from your lips in irresistible melodies. his eyes spiraled into a dazed look, his form immediately walking towards yours. a sinister smile formed on your face.

you had him right where you wanted him.

once dean had stood in front of you, his eyes glazed over and the beer was long gone from his grasp.

your hand gently came to his face, caressing the skin with surprising gentleness. long nails tracing patterns into the skin, you felt almost something human in his presence. it was both irritating and addicting; however, in all honesty you found him quite pathetic.

a hunter as known as him falling for your songs, which had been in stories told all over the world was unheard of. you wondered what his dear brother would think if he saw him in this position.

yet, you didn't dwell on the thought. using your strength to pull him into your cavern, which was filled with shells and bones–which could only be named as your previous victims.

tying him up with precise motions, keeping it tight and secure. riding his pockets and boots of any sharp objects, marveling at the shininess of them.

you normally kept whatever you found on the men you captured as a little present, a good job to yourself. afterall self love was key in success. 

wandering around your cave to keep busy, until he woke up of course, then you would have your fun.

dean stirred, eyes blurry as he blinked away the sleep. his heart immediately jumped, his first thought was to escape. tugging on his restraints harshly, though it did no good in helping–only in hurting himself.

your ears picked up on the noises, walking back towards him quickly. “dean! you're awake.” you chirped cheerfully, hands clasping in front of you.

he practically stared into your soul, a look that could kill. and he wanted to kill you. “who are you–better yet, what are you?” his voice was strained and raspy, filling your body with a warmth you weren't used to.

you pushed those feelings back, fingers slowly trailing down his cheek. cutting him up slightly, licking your lips at the sight and smell of the crimson liquid.

by now he should've been dead, you usually weren't one to waste time when it came to meals. but there was something about him, something that lit a fire inside of you that wouldn't let itself be put out.

“oh, dean..” your words came out almost breathless, face coming close to his, foreheads touching. the skin-to-skin contact set that fire ablaze. “you fell for the oldest trick, my songs.” you hinted at what you were, being one for trivias and all.

"a fuckin’ siren, perfect, just what i need.” dean spat out, tone laced full of venom that stung.

your eyes widened as his words pierced through you, forcing themselves straight into your heart. somehow tears welled up in your waterline, awaiting to be set free. to flow down your cheeks, evidence of your sadness.

but you were stronger than that, opting on letting him free. you couldn't take it, his words, and harsh gaze that burned holes into your form. stronger than the fire that went ablaze anytime you smelt him, or even looked at him. how could a human man – a hunter – have this effect on you. 

dean let the ropes fall from his body, greens eyes lingering on your form, seemingly stalking your every movement–just like how you'd stalked him. his face softened from it's hardened look, calloused hands coming to gingerly grasp onto your waist.

“hey, it's alright. next time, don't drug and kidnap the guys you find attractive, yea?” he teased, trying to lighten the mood and lift your spirits. he couldn't believe he was doing this, for a monster no less. but he felt his soul tug towards you, his face stung from the cut, yet it never deterred him from you.

the tears flowed graciously down your cheeks, turning your head to catch a glimpse of him. as soon as you did, his lips captured yours in a calming kiss. the taste of alcohol lingered on his. while the salt from the sea was all he tasted on yours and to him, it was the best thing he's ever had the privilege of tasting.

sunny's note! HII everyone, this is my first little fic that I'm posting. I know it's probably short but I wanted to continue with another part like their life together after!! please lmk if you'd be interested in reading that! <3

𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ® 𓂃 do not repost or copy my works without permission!!

[itstheghostofmypast]

S♡CKER P♡NCH

Boxer AU Choi San x Reader

Summary: No labels, no commitment, no real relationship. A lone wolf who could throw anyone across the ring until his love for boxing shifted to the love for his little daisy.

Genre: Hurt + Comfort

Rating: PG-17

Warnings: Making out, language.

Word Count: 2.1 K

Est.Read Time: 10 min

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels @illusionnet

Banner: @cafekitsune

A/N: I'd like to blame @edenesth for sending me that one real- man. I'm weak for this man.

After a deep groan the boxer sighed, staring up at the bright light of the ring, the world around him blurring into twos and threes, hazy and foggy, the world around him turning into distant memory but the persistent, ear piercing ringing in his head had his conscious hold onto some form of reality.

A familiar voice caught his attention, his eyes slowly trailing to the fuzzy shadow, the sweet voice cutting through the loud ringing. A muffled whisper was all he caught before blacking out,

“Sannie!? Wake up!”

.

The thumping at the back of his skull pulled him out of his blackout, slowly opening his eyes, staring up at the dark shaky ceiling - oh, he was in the van. Did Wooyoung pick him up? Did he carry him? Closing his eyes, he sighed, the memories match he had won, not one of his finest ventures. In fact, he had been so distracted that he really did think he was going to lose, mid way on the bench he had asked Wooyoung if he could tap out, only for his manager/best friend to whisper back, “Ya dumb? Ya gotta win this to prove to her you're a strong one! Get her that ring you want with tonight's money!”

The ring, that's what, led his large best friend back into the ring with a new sense of determination. Sure, images of her flashing across his mind, trying to focus on nothing but her, especially the last memory of her, when she was the more upset with him than he had ever seen. He knew he had to make it up to her. He had to prove to her that he wasn't weak. He was part of the big leagues now, and he knew what he was doing. And he did, with one final kick the man had won, stumbling back when Wooyoung braced him steady-temperedily with a hand on the back of the boxer, declaring his victory. It was after that when he completely blacked out, somehow hearing the melody of his daisy.

“Instead of yapping at me, tend to him would ya?” The driver mumbled, earing a scoff from the woman behind the curtain, ripping it open so she could glare at him, “This is all your fault!”

“No, this is your fault.” Backrest the brakes at the stop sign he turned his head to glare at her, “If you didn't challenge his capabilities-”

“I'm his doctor! He was already exhausted! I wasn't challenging him! I was giving him MEDICAL ADVICE!”

“I'm his manager! I know what he can and can not do and-”

“HE HAD A DEATH WISH!”

“SO WHAT!?”

“I LOVE HIM, YOU BASTARD!”

The loud horn blaring behind them had Wooyoung sprint into action, stepping on the gas as the whole van shook, causing ; her to lose her balance and topple over and to land in a firm pair of arms, that tightened around her when Wooyoung's rash driving had him hopping lane to lane to find a quick pit stop.

“Slow down, Woo.” He mumbled, voice hoarse and heavy, possibly due to the fatigue, though his words were firm, “There's no need to rush, I feel fine.” Of course, his best friend was rushing to find some form of place to stay, he was worried about him, sure they had her, a certified nurse, but she couldn't do much due to her limited resources.

“Are you sure?” The driver glanced at his rear view mirror, only to shake his head and sigh at the sight of the two love-struck fools staring at each other like that. It made him sick. To think he had seen this man throw men bigger than him around the ring, and now he was all putty in a frail, lousy tempered woman's arms. Rolling his eyes at the lack of response, he reached back to pull the curtain, deciding to give them time to ‘make up’ .

“You came?” San whispered, leaning down to brush his lips against her, trying to ignore the sting of the cut on his lower lip.

“Of course I did, you big dummy.” She mumbled, slowly pulling back and helping him recline against the DIY back rest they had made with an old cushion, “I was mad at your stupidity, didn't mean I wanted to leave you unattended when you'd get hurt.”

“Well, isn't my daisy a work of art.” Mumbled he reached over to gently grasp her hand, drawing gentle circles with his thumb on the back of her soft, smaller hand, “Thank you.”

“Don't thank me. You guys pay me for that.”

He pouted at her statement, sure it was true but that's because Wooyoung had originally hired her, they weren't a couple back then.

And even after the small mountain had constantly been expressing and hinting at his admiration for her, Wooyoung had insisted that the contract remain intact, which meant they needed to keep it professional.

Now, she was just saying this because of their lack of official titles- it was true, the boxer was head over heels for her, but was too afraid to take a step, what if he hurt her with his big calloused hands, or what if he crushed her with his brute being. It didn't matter what any fortune teller or shaman would claim, his Yin was much more suppressed because his choice of occupation- an occupation he was good at, an occupation he enjoyed, an occupation that helped him earn a living. One that he had used to get her a ring. Callbhim old fashioned, but he believed courting her for more than a year was enough. She deserved the proper treatment, one he'd gladly give her - now that he had convinced Wooyoung too.

“Yes but…you didn't need to come all the way there and-”

“Drop it.” She sighed, somewhat irritated by his romantic gestures, he'd do this often, be this tender with her, and then pull back as soon as she'd ask for something more, something that would make her bruised heart flutter.

Slowly, she got up, placing a hand on the roof to steady herself before making her way to the back of the van, grateful that he had not heard her confess her feelings for him to Wooyoung. Reaching for the cooler, she tipped over the lid, kneeling as she plucked out an icepack, a bottle of water, and an ice lolly.

He raised a brow at the choice of items she has returned with, “What's with the- ack!” He gagged at the intensity of the frozen treat hitting the back of his throat, hand instinctively reaching to grab the small end of the stick as he looked at her with an unpleasant expression Though it soon turned into a lopsided smirk when she sat between his spread out legs, frowning up at him and pressing the cold ice beside his eyebrow, mumbling an, “Idiot.”

His other arm looped around her waist, tugging her closer as he pulled out the lolly, “How'd you know I like pineapple?” He giggled pressing it to her lips, watching her slowly part her lips, taking in the treat as she maintained eye contact, watching his ears turn pink at the sight, his eyes widening in disbelief. Sure, they had flirted before but never like this.

The loud crunch caught his ears as she pulled back, with half the pop gone, as she licked her lips and frowned, “I was planning on having it later tonight.”

Whining at her, he pulled the mostly eaten treat, staring at what was left at the bottom before pulling it closer to inspect the bite marks, raising a brow at the sight, swallowing at the loss of romance. Okay, so she was still upset.

Just like that, the boxer had a wonderful idea, completely forgetting the third party present, currently eavesdropping on their conversation, or lack thereof. With one swift move, he bit into the remaining ice lolly, savouring the sweet taste before cupping her face and crashing his lips against hers.

A small squeak broke past her lips that were now occupied with his, her arms trailing up his chest to wrap around his neck, fingers caressing the base of his neck. He pulled her closer, palm flat on the small of her back as he used his other hand to hold her still, giving her a neck a little squeeze, tilting her head to have her part her lips, sharing the melted, sticky pineapple juice.

She pushed him away as she gasped for air, licking the remaining traces of the sugar off her swollen lips, staring at him with a hazed expression, matching his, much like his flushed face and heaving chest- the only difference was that he had that cocky smug look plastered on his handsome, bruised features, looking like a boy who had just won a race.

“I had to win tonight.” he whispered, leaning forward to press his forehead against hers, hand leaving her neck, shoving it in his pocket to look for something, before pulling it out, “Had to get ya this, paid the deposit, have to give the rest tomorrow.”

She gasped at the small velvet box in his hand, glancing up at him then down at the box, her heart racing against time as she took it with shaky hands, flipping open the lid, blinking at the diamond .

“Oh Sannie…why would you-”

“I can't hold back anymore, daisy. You punched me in the heart the moment I fell into your lap that night.”

Her face flushed at the memory of the fateful night they had met, with her sitting at a bus stop post midnight. Waiting for the bus, when a bruised man stumbled onto the platform, the blood on his knuckles dripped onto the concrete. At first she had tried to ignore the giant man, but they way he was swaying left and right for some tugged the strings of her heart, having her let out an, “Are you alright, Sir?”

That night, he had fallen unconscious in his daisy's lap, forever in debt to her, forever in love with her. Next morning he woke up on a warm bed, all patched up and cozy, with her tending to him after bringing him breakfast- a moment of peace, before he had called Wooyoung who then hired her on the spot.

“You're so stupid San…you didn't have to get me a ring- you could've gotten hurt- I just- you fainted and-”

“I love you too…by the way.” He watched her fumble with her words, cutting her off as be referred to the confession of hers a while ago, giving her a closed eye smile when he slipped the ring on her finger, tossing the box somewhere across the van. Both unaware that the van had come to a stop, as he brought her hand to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to the back of her palm.

“Kiss me.”

“Wha-” his words cut short as she grabbed his face, much like he had early, only with more force, squishing his plump cheeks, forcing him to pout. This only riled him up further as he gently pushed her onto her back, hovering over her, deepening the kiss, making sure she could feel all the love he had pent up inside for so long. Her lips curled into a smile at his response, hands trailing up his broad back, feeling every ripple of each muscle, her body turning warmer at the way he'd sigh against her mouth. His own hands gripped her by the waist, dragging her closer, chuckling at the little noises she was making. Both lost in bliss, both lost in one another.

“EXCUSE ME, MY VAN IS NO PLACE FOR YOUR NASTY BUSINESS!”

The screech had her push him off her, instantly shivering as the crisp air of the night layering her skin with goosebumps. Their breaths came out in puffs, panting like a pair of teenagers caught in the janitors closet.

“We weren't…doing a-anything.” She huffed, sitting up and glaring at the manager who just scoffed in response, “Mhmmm…I definitely didn't see his tongue shoved down your throat.”

Whining at his snarky response, she pouted at her newly declared lover who gave her a cute smile, one that had her resisting the urge to attack his glistening lips once more. San shook his head at Wooyoung and crawled out of the van, turning to his lady, reaching out for her to help her out of the van, much like he always did, only this time, he boldly wrapped a jacket around her shoulders, before pulling her closer into his side, walking towards the motel Wooyoung had brought them too.

“YAH! This better not become a common practice!” The shorter man yelled at the boxer who's laugh bounced in the dark of the empty night, pulling his source of love and warmth closer, smiling down at her, only to receive a shy smile in return.

Wooyoung watched his best friend walk into the other room behind his lover, waving bye before closing the door, this bastard should be grateful he got them a separate room, more importantly he should be grateful that he had texted her to come quick when San was having his ass handed to him, knowing if there was one sole motivator for the boxer, it was his little daisy.

Taglist: @edenesth @skteezcursed @mlysalt @the-kpop-simp @spooo00oky @bunnyluvr25

@s-h-y-a @ateezwonderland