#it's not going to be good I can tel you that much

[theamazingannie]

I’m a sucker for musical parallels and referencing an old song in a new song but I feel like this TTPD lead up is not just a “this is how I used to feel and now I’m using those themes to show how I feel now” and more of a “those feelings were never real and actually those love songs that were so beautiful before are actually about a bad relationship and full of red flags” cuz it’s honestly ruining my feelings on those old songs. Like Taylor’s whole thing is letting us interrupt the songs and apply them to our own lives and now it’s like even she is encouraging us to only see them through the lens of her most recent breakup and it really sucks tbh

[bmpmp3]

the exvoice that comes with rikka's synthv voicebank when you buy her is insane btw like when i get an exvoice for a vocal synth i expect just like maybe a few phrases, hellos, thank yous, and like breathing and laughing or whatever but she for some reason comes with 800 phrases 40 breaths numbers in english and japanese the entirety of japanese phonetics whispered and some other asmr binaural whatever and thats not even the half of it and like. girl i dont need all that. thanks tho <3

[aegonstradwife]

exposure therapy | aemond targaryen x reader

summary: anonymous requested; you and aemond were recently married. you're afraid of him, but aemond goes to great lengths to show you he's not that scary.

warnings: excessive use of ellipses, #1 wife lover aemond targaryen, brief mention of childhood trauma, smut. (fingering, face riding, oral.)

a. note:link to the original request.

As Aemond's new wife, it's surprising how little time you spend together. The servants whisper about it around every corner; how you skulk through the halls hoping to avoid him, how nearly every meal you take is apart from each other.

But there's a very good reason for this, one that you've never admitted to anyone.

You are terrified of him.

Even at night, you might share the same bed, but it's big enough that you can sleep soundly without ever once touching him. Although even that was difficult at first; those first few nights you dreaded climbing into bed with him and got nearly no sleep at all.

He is so much bigger, and much stronger, than you. He really could do anything he wanted to you and you would have no chance of fighting him off.

Eventually, however, Aemond's still body beside yours throughout the night, you realized he either wouldn't, or didn't want to, touch you. And finally you were able to get some sleep.

But now, though sleep comes much more easily and your nights are no longer fraught with peril at the thought of him forcing himself upon you, it still doesn't mean you have any desire to be around him.

And you thought he felt much the same. Until tonight.

Aemond is already comfortable on the settee by the window, reading, when you retire to your shared bedchamber for the night.

Hells bent as usual on ignoring him, you busy yourself with removing your shoes in front of the wardrobe.

"Come. Sit with me."

In the quiet of the room, Aemond's sudden, uncharacteristic, voice makes you jump, going very still. His tone is soft; now that you think on it, you've heard Aemond's voice very few times, either before or after you were married.

In your mind, the few times you had heard him speak, you remember him sounding like a complete barbarian. Not this lilting, almost melodic, softness....

Straightening, you nervously smooth the skirts of your dress down over your thighs. Aemond's silhouette is stark against the candles guttering on the windowsill.

You gulp, starting to tiptoe toward him, but stopping at the opposite arm of the settee. "Do I have to?" You ask quietly, and even that takes every ounce of courage in your weary body.

This is probably as close as you've ever been to him when not in bed together at night.

"I won’t bite." Aemond's lips are quirked in a half smirk. He closes the book in his hands and sets it aside, patting the space beside him. "I assure you, I won’t hurt you. Come. Sit."

Though he had indicated the middle cushion, you sweep your skirts under you and take a seat on the one beside it, furthest from Aemond.

Normally you would have loved sitting and reading by candlelight, the cool breeze from the open windows ruffling your hair.

But now you bite your lip, heart hammering hard against your ribcage like a frightened bird.

Aemond can feel the tension radiating off of you. Your shoulders tight as a bow string, the muscles in your jaw taut, hands folded in your lap fidgeting with a loose thread on your gown.

He simple looks at you for a very long moment. Your features are delicate, almost fragile, your frame small and dainty when compared to his. To Aemond, you look very much like a porcelain doll. He has no idea how someone could be so beautiful and yet so…. breakable.

You glance nervously at him, wondering what he could possibly be thinking.

"What?" You ask, though you keep your voice low, not wanting to anger him.

"You're afraid of me," Aemond states bluntly. He leans against the back of the settee, studying you with one intense purple eye. "Why?"

You laugh aloud, unable to stop yourself. Now seems as good a time as any to tell him exactly what you've been thinking since your wedding day.

"Look at you. And look at me. You could do whatever you want to me and I wouldn't be able to stop you. Not to mention...." You shrug. "The stories about you aren't kind...."

Aemond raises an eyebrow at your laughter, that same small, wry smile never leaving his lips. He can't help but wonder if you're mocking him as he leans forward, gaze still locked with yours.

"And what do the stories say about me, little wife?" His voice is low, a dangerous, frightening edge to it.

For seemingly the first time, you look your husband in the eye. One piercing violet eye stares back, the other covered by his customary eyepatch. "They say you're a fearsome warrior, one of the strongest swordsmen alive. And they say.... they say you killed that boy. Rhaenyra's son...."

Aemond’s eye narrows. There is so much uncertainty in that gaze of yours, something about your innocent face makes Aemond feel.... bad. His jaw clenches and he leans back.

"Lucerys Velaryon. Yes, I did kill him. Though I didn't mean to.... I lost control."

"You didn't?" Your eyes narrow as well, suspicious of him. "Then.... what did you mean to do?"

Your husband lets out a long sigh and crosses his arms. "I meant to scare him. I was.... angry. I wanted to teach him a lesson, to frighten and humiliate him. And I did not have such good control over Vhagar as I do now...."

At the mention of his dragon, you perk up - that's one thing you've always been curious about. The Targaryen dragons are so beautiful and powerful; you would love to ride one one day, if given the chance.

"So your dragon, she disobeyed you?"

Aemond is clearly taken aback by your interest in Vhagar. For a moment, it seemed you forgot you were supposed to be scared of him. He tries to hide the hint of surprise flickering across his face.

"Well, yes and no," Aemond says, diplomatic. "Vhagar is a very old and powerful dragon, and she is used to doing what she wants. Sometimes.... it's difficult for any Targaryen to control a dragon, even the strongest of riders."

You are positively fascinated, hearing about Vhagar, leaning in toward Aemond without realizing. "What is it like, riding her? Does it ever get cold, so high up?"

Aemond can smell your perfume as you lean toward him, a mix of jasmine and honey, faint yet sweet. He clears his throat.

"Riding Vhagar is like nothing else," he tells you. "And yes, it does get cold at times, but the feeling of the wind in your hair and the power of the dragon beneath you is.... indescribable."

"Do you think she'd let me ride her?" At this point, you're nearly nose to nose with Aemond, eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Or do they only let Targaryens?"

Aemond freezes, gaze still locked with yours, your heads so close together that he can feel your breath ghost across his lips. He is surprised by your question and even more surprised by how badly he wants to fulfill the request.

"They only let Targaryens ride them, yes," he says, voice sounding much huskier than he intends. "But.... I'm sure Vhagar wouldn't mind letting someone else ride her.... if I were to accompany them."

"Would you?" You reach out, hand finding his thigh and giving a thankful squeeze. Realizing what you've done, how close you've become to him, you quickly snatch that hand back as though Aemond is on fire. "I'm so sorry...."

Aemond’s eye widens; for a heartbeat, your touch sent a shock through his entire body.

"It's alright." His voice is rough. “Don’t apologize....” He catches your wrist gently, before you can pull your hand away completely. "It was.... nice."

You tense, wrist caught in his strong embrace. "What are you doing?"

For a long moment, Aemond doesn't respond, simply staring at your slender wrist in his hand. Your skin is so smooth, so soft. He can feel your pulse beating against his palm, fast and fluttering like the wings of a small bird.

"Doing?" He finally asks, looking up at you with a sly smile. "Just.... holding your hand, that’s all."

"Holding my.... oh." All things considered, Aemond is handsome, you suppose. With his long silver hair, that chiseled jaw, the little moue of his lips. "You.... you really aren't all that scary, are you?"

Chuckling softly, Aemond's fingers gently stroke the skin of your wrist. Your words, spoken almost as a question, take him by surprise.

"I'm not trying to scare you," he says, his voice low and slightly amused. "And I don’t want to be scary, to you. Can I be honest with you, little wife?"

You nod, letting him continue to stroke that sensitive bit of skin around your wrist. He is very gentle, which has taken you by surprise.

"The truth is," he mutters, "I don't like it when you're scared of me. I don't like the way you look at me, as if you think I'm going to pounce on you and tear you apart at any moment. That's not what I want."

Slowly, still wary of him, you curl your fingers around his thumb and Aemond's breath hitches. Your hand is small compared to his; Aemond's fingers look massive beside yours.

"Everyone else seems so frightened of you. I thought.... I should be as well. I didn't know, that you hadn't meant to kill that boy. Have you told anyone else that?"

“No,” he says after a moment. “No one else knows. I haven't told anyone.”

He pauses, looking down at your hand in his. His other hand comes to trap your fingers inside of his palms, his thumbs tracing back and forth over your skin. “You’re the first I've shared this with.”

"You should tell others, that way no one will be scared of you."

Aemond lets out a soft chuckle, his gaze still fixed on your fingers intertwined with his own.

“I quite like others being afraid of me,” he admits. The smile on his face fades, just a bit, in the flickering candlelight. “But not you.”

"Not me?" You query, a sweet blush rising high on your cheeks. "Why not me?"

Aemond’s eye is drawn to that color blooming across your cheeks, the innocent flush sending a strange feeling coursing through him. He continues to stroke your wrist in a gentle, almost reverent, way.

"A wife should not be afraid of her husband," he says finally, his voice soft. "She should be worshipped by him....”

Slowly, so as not to startle you, he brings your wrist to his lips and places a gentle kiss there.

You lick your lips, nervous as all seven hells with the way things are going. Not only are you still afraid of Aemond - though growing less so by the moment - you have also never been close like this with anyone else before.

"And why.... why is it so important for other people to be afraid of you?"

Aemond’s lips linger over your skin, the faintest ghost of a smile there. He can feel the way your hand trembles slightly in his, the nervous flutter of your pulse against his fingertips. But he also notices how you don’t draw back, how you sit still and allow him to hold you.

“It's.... payback, almost,” he confesses. “For the torment I suffered as a child. It is better to be feared than loved - no one will ever again treat me the way they did when I was young.”

You are not aware of any torment in Aemond's childhood, though that isn't saying much. Of course the Targaryens keep much of what goes on between them a secret. Even now that you're married, you're hardly privy to all - or even most - of their secrets.

"Is that.... how this happened?" Shaking ever so slightly, you raise a hand to Aemond's face, fingers stroking the strap of his eyepatch.

As your slender fingers brushed against the edge of it, Aemond tenses, every muscle in his body going taut. No one has ever touched him there before, and it's an unfamiliar intimacy.

He closes his eye for a moment, trying to control his reaction, before speaking. “Yes,” he says, his voice thick with emotions he finds difficult to name. “That's how this happened.”

You feel for Aemond; having to grow up that way must have been torture.

Pulling your hand gently from his grasp, you bring both up to hook beneath the rough leather strap. "May I?"

His breathing hitches as your hands tug gently at the straps of his eyepatch. He knows your touch is innocent.... but no one has ever dared to remove it for him before. He nods once, his voice low.

“You may.”

With fierce concentration and a desire not to ruin his perfect hair, you slide the eyepatch up and off, gasping at the gorgeous sapphire glimmering where his eye should be.

"Gods, it's beautiful, Aemond." Letting the patch rest in your lap, you run your fingers lightly over the scar tissue below Aemond's eye. "Who did this to you?"

Aemond's breath hitches again, rougher this time, as he feels the tips of your slender fingers graze the scarred tissue around his eye, the touch stirring something deep within him. The feeling of your touch against the sensitive skin there is almost overwhelming.

He swallows hard, that old pain and anger bubbling up inside of him.

"My.... nephew," he finally says, his voice surprisingly even. "Lucerys Velaryon."

You inhale sharply; all you can think of is that if Aemond had really meant to kill the boy, he would have been well within his right to, after having been mutilated like this.

Grabbing for his hands, you hurry to say something. "Aemond, I-"

But your husband cuts you off. "There is one other reason it's important for others to be afraid of me."

"A-And what is that?" You ask, holding his hands close to your bosom.

"So that I can protect my wife, and my family." That sapphire is positively glowing in the light of the flickering candles. "The more afraid people are of me, the less likely they are to try and harm me, or you, or our family.... once we make one...."

His declaration takes all the air from your lungs, and you find it hard to breathe. "If I had known all of this, I.... I would never have been so frightened of you. I'm sorry, Aemond."

You cast around desperately for something else to say, some other way to apologize.

"Do not apologize."

His voice is gentle, yet firm. Your hands are still holding his against your breast, and he can feel the warmth of your skin even through the layers of your gown, the rapid beat of your heart.

"You didn't know, it is not your fault for being afraid," he soothes you. "But.... now that you know.... may I ask you something else?"

You nod, eager now to answer Aemond's questions and to ask more of your own - you want to learn so much more about him.

Aemond's fingers tighten around yours, the feel of your soft skin against his own sending a strange heat through his veins. He draws you in a little closer, his face now so close to yours that he can feel the warmth of your breath, that same scent of sweet honey and jasmine in your hair.

"You.... have not shied away from my scar, or my missing eye," he says, his voice a low whisper. "You have touched them, caressed them even.... why?"

Why...? You find it odd he even has to ask.

"Because I think they make you beautiful. Is that wrong?"

Your thumbs find his wrists now, pressing in against his pulse points, which are fluttering erratically.

Aemond's breath catches in his throat, the feeling of your dainty thumbs resting against his wrists, feeling the rapid beating of his pulse, setting his skin on fire. Your words, declaring him beautiful, ring in his ears, stirring something deep within his chest.

"Be-Beautiful?" He repeats, his voice a terrible croak. No one.... no one has ever called him beautiful. The word sounds strange in his ears, as if they're not meant for someone like him.

You nod, and after only a momentary hesitation, you bring one hand up again to his scar. This time, brushing the side closest to his hairline, a few strands of long silver hair getting in the way.

"Beautiful, Aemond. You're beautiful. I mean.... I did always think that. Just.... was too afraid of you to tell you. Do you forgive me?"

Aemond's breath hitches once more as your fingers stroke his hair, your soft touch sending a shiver down his spine. No one, no one, has ever touched his scar with such tenderness, such care.

"I.... I forgive you," he whispers, voice raw. "And for what it's worth.... I'm sorry, that I.... that I made you afraid of me. I never wanted that, I swear."

"I know. It wasn't even your fault, really." You roll your eyes, relaxing against the back of the settee. "I was just.... assuming that what everyone else said was true. Which is a terrible thing, really. My parents raised me much better than that."

A particularly chilly gust of wind blows in through the window and you wrap your arms around yourself. "I have to admit, I thought if my shenanigans went on much longer, you'd be forced to.... well, force yourself on me...."

Aemond is silent, as if that thought, the notion of forcing himself on you, is something he refuses to even consider. He turns to look at you, the pale glow of his sapphire eye giving him an otherworldly appearance.

"I.... I would never force you to do anything, little wife, not ever," he says, his voice low and serious. "I believe the first time a man and wife.... are together.... it should be.... enjoyable.... for both of them."

Suddenly, all words are caught in your throat. The thought of your first time with Aemond still makes you nervous, even knowing that he would never want to do anything against your will.

"I thought.... a woman's first time was always painful?" That's what you've always been told. You have never done anything of the sort, but perhaps Aemond knows better.

At your words, Aemond's jaw tightens. His fingers clench into a fist, the thought of you in pain during your first time together sending a wave of anger through him.

"No. No, never. It shouldn't be painful, not unless you don't want it, too," he says, his voice low and urgent. "Your first time should be.... enjoyable. Pleasant. I would never take you simply for my own pleasure. I would make sure you...." he falters.

Flinching slightly away from him at the sight of his hand in a fist, you gasp softly. Have you said something wrong?

Still, you dare to ask, "You would make sure I what?"

In the candlelight, Aemond's eye flashes dangerously and that sapphire blazes.

He takes a very deep breath, forcing himself to relax, to open his hand again. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, "I.... I don't like the idea of hurting you, it.... makes me angry."

He looks down at you again.

"I would make sure that you.... felt pleasure as well. It wouldn't be about me. It's about both of us."

If you had known how protective Aemond was of you, you would have asked him about these things sooner. He is, after all, the only person you can think to ask. If you can't discuss bedroom matters with your husband, who can you discuss them with?

"How does it feel?" You ask him softly, scooting closer to him on the settee. "When you have sex, how does it feel?"

Aemond is taken somewhat off guard by the sudden question, his cheeks going pink at your unexpected candor, but he doesn't back down. He doesn't want to shy away from your questions, not when you're so close to him, peering at him through those wide, innocent eyes.

He takes another deep breath, shifting on the settee so he can face you fully.

"it.... it feels.... good," he begins, his voice a low rumble. "It feels.... full. Warm. Tight. But.... good. More than good, especially when you do it with someone you care about. It feels safe, like nothing can hurt you ever again."

The look on Aemond's face as he speaks is one you've never seen before - something vulnerable and almost childlike staring back at you. You wonder how you could ever have been afraid of him.

"And you? Who was your first time with?"

As your question hangs in the air between the two of you, Aemond goes stock-still. No one has ever asked him that before.

He hesitates for a moment, peering warily at you. "Why.... why do you want to know?" He asks finally, voice cautious.

Now you know you've definitely said something wrong. "I was just curious," you hurry to tell him. "It's wrong of me to pry, I'm sorry...."

Aemond sighs softly, shaking his head. "No, no, don't apologize," he says, his voice a light simper now. He reaches out, taking your hand gently in his.

"It's okay, I just.... wasn't expecting you to ask that." He pauses, and you can see a flicker of something run across his face. "You.... you really want to know?"

"I do," you admit bashfully. "If you feel comfortable telling me?"

Aemond's hand grips yours a little tighter, your words sending a strange, tight feeling through hm. He hasn't thought about that night in a long time, and the memory is still painful enough to make him wince.

"All right," he says, letting out a slow breath. "I.... I'll tell you. Just.... just don't.... don't judge me, all right?"

"I won't judge," you assure him with a shake of your head.

Aemond looks down at your intertwined hands, his fingers tracing a light pattern against your palm. He closes his eye, gathering his thoughts, before lifting your hand to his lips and pressing a barely-there kiss to your knuckles.

"My.... my first time," he begins, and his voice is rough, "was with a whore, in a pleasure house, at the behest of my brother who frequented - and still frequents - them much more than I did."

"I don't think that's anything to be ashamed of," you admit, mulling the idea over. "Most men visit those types of places at some point in their lives.... don't they?"

Aemond pauses for a moment, his eye locking with yours. He looks almost surprised by your response, as if he hadn't thought you would be so blasé about the situation.

"Yes...." he says slowly, "they do. But.... it's not.... it's not the sort of thing a wife would expect to hear, about their husband's past exploits."

You chew your lip thoughtfully, running your fingers around and through the spaces between Aemond's. "I don't mind, as long as...."

You hesitate, wondering if you really want to say this now or leave it for another night. "What I mean to say, Aemond, is that.... now that we understand each other better.... perhaps you can show me what it's like? Sex? And, if you do, I expect there to be no more pleasure houses in your future, is that clear?"

Aemond's gaze darkens as your words register, his heart stuttering in his chest. His fingers twitch against yours, breath catching in his throat.

"You.... you want me to show you...?" He repeats weakly, his eye wide and disbelieving.

You close your fingers tightly around Aemond's now, leaning in toward your husband. "Mm. But as I said, you must promise - no more pleasure houses. After all, you did say you want to worship me, did you not?"

Aemond's head swims with your words, his heart hammering in his chest so hard it's difficult to catch his breath. The way you're looking at him, the sweetness in your voice, the scent of honey and jasmine in your hair.... all of it is almost too much to bear.

He swallows hard, and nods. "No more pleasure houses. I promise," he whispers, his voice hoarse and rough.

His oath sets you at ease, but there's one more thing you must tell him.

"I must admit, Aemond, I'm still scared...."

He looks about to interrupt, but you cut him off. "Oh, not of you. I'm.... terrified of the pain. I've never done well with pain, and I'm so scared it's going to hurt like hell."

Aemond's heart twists at the worry and fear in your voice, his fingers tightening over yours. He hates the thought of you being scared, hates his own inability to take that fear away from you.

"Why do you still think it's going to be painful?" He asks quietly.

Instead of making you feel trapped, his fingers around yours make you feel safe. Aemond is lethal; you can see it in his face, in the hard line of his body. But he wants to use all of that to protect you....

Though what could he possibly do to prevent his own body from hurting you, even though he might not mean to?

"That's all I've ever been told." You gulp. "A woman's first time is always painful. And.... There's always blood."

Aemond's jaw clenches in anger. He doesn't know who planted these false, hurtful notions in your head, but he wants to tear them limb from limb.

He reaches out to you, tilting your head gently up to meet his gaze. "No. No, no, no," he says, his voice low and intense. "It's not supposed to be painful, especially the first time. You've just.... you've been told wrong."

He pauses. "Sometimes there is blood, I won't lie to you about that. But there are ways to minimize the chance of that."

Aemond's fingers start to skirt back and forth under your chin. "How .... How can we stop there being so much blood? I want you to show me."

Heart now beating much faster, Aemond's stomach twists with a mixture of desire and trepidation. He swallows, hard, his eye dark and heavy-lidded as he gazes down at you.

He runs his fingers through your hair, the soft feel of it against his skin maddening. "I can show you," he murmurs, "but.... you have to trust me."

"Of course. I do now." You turn your face toward his hand, palm skimming your cheek as he touches your hair. "I know you'll take care of me."

He takes another deep breath to steady himself, his hand coming to rest against the side of your face, thumb tracing the line of your jaw. "Good," he whispers, "because I will, always. But there's something.... something I need to know first."

You shiver, Aemond's fingers reverent along your cheek and jaw. "What is it?"

Fingers now trailing down your neck, he pauses, hand coming to rest on your collarbone, your pulse beating fast and hard against his palm.

Aemond leans in close, his voice a rumble in your ear. "You.... you have never even been touched, have you?"

You are very aware of how hard your heart is beating, thumping underneath his fingers. "I haven't.... is that bad?"

Aemond breathes heavily, pulling back to look at you.

"No," he says emphatically, "it's not bad. It's.... it's just...." He trails off for a moment, struggling to find the words. "I need to know.... if you're still.... if you're still intact."

The question makes you blush furiously, looking down at your laps, side by side, so you don't have to look Aemond in the eye. "I.... yes.... isn't that where the blood comes from?"

You don't know much, but you do know that.

He places two fingers gently under your chin, coaxing you to look up at him again.

"Yes," he says, "that's where the blood comes from. But it can break in other ways. For instance, from fingers or.... other objects." His fingers trace along your cheek, obviously trying to soothe your growing discomfort at this conversation.

"But it.... it doesn't have to," he adds after a moment.

You chuckle, reluctantly meeting Aemond's gaze. "Can we try?"

He takes a moment to steady himself, his hand now trailing back down your neck, slowly caressing. "Are you sure? Absolutely sure?"

You nod fervently, gripping onto his wrist. "Positively. Now that I understand you better, I can think of no one else I'd like to teach me such things...."

He leans in, lips brushing your ear again, breath hot against your skin. "Then I will," he murmurs, his voice an uneven, ragged whisper, "I will show you. And I will take my time."

Long have you waited for someone to come along and share this experience with you. When you were initially betrothed to Aemond, you thought all hope was lost - he was so frightening and the thought of sharing a bed with him sent a shiver of panic through you.

But now.... Women have desires just as much as men do, surely... At least you know you do. And Aemond is offering to take care of them for you....

You steady yourself with a hand on Aemond's chest, nails digging into the soft cotton of his tunic. "Please.... I want it."

Aemond's stomach clenches, your soft, pleading voice sending a bolt of white hot desire through him.

"Patience," he murmurs, his sizeable palm laid against the back of your hand on his chest, "I'll take care of you, I promise. I just need you to relax for me, all right?"

"Mm, I'll try...." With another nod, you take a deep breath, shuddering at the feeling of Aemond's big hand covering yours entirely. "Maybe a drink would serve to relax me better...?"

This gives Aemond pause, and he pulls back slightly, his eye raking over your face, taking in the soft blush on your cheeks, the way your lips are parted as you catch your breath.

He gives a single, slow nod. "Yes," he admits, "I think a drink might help."

Without another word, he moves to a small table on the other side of the room, pouring you each a generous glass of sweet wine.

As he does so, you finger the pendant at your throat, a gift from your late mother. The way Aemond looks at you; any woman would be lucky to have a husband who looks at her that way. Like you're precious, like he would do anything to protect you.

Once offered your glass, you take it and swallow a large mouthful, hoping to get drunk as quickly as possible, to make this whole ordeal more bearable.

Aemond watches you closely, a small frown tugging at the corners of his mouth as he sees you gulp the wine so quickly. He knows you're trying to get drunk, trying to use the alcohol as a crutch to make this easier.

"There's no need to rush," he says quietly, taking a seat beside you again, his knee bumping yours. He lifts his own glass to his lips, taking a slow, measured drink.

Swallowing another substantial mouthful of wine, you furtively watch the way Aemond's lips purse around the rim of his glass.

You smooth the skirts of your dress down, taking a deep breath. "I just want to be as relaxed as possible for you, Aemond."

He continues to watch you, that striking violet eye taking in every tiny detail - the way your fingers grasp the fabric of your dress, the soft movement of your body underneath the silk.

He takes a deep breath, his eye watching you as he drains the last of the wine from the glass. "I know," he murmurs, his voice a husky rumble, "but there's no need to get completely drunk, my love."

"It can't hurt." You upend the first glass of wine, draining the last dregs, and hold your glass out toward him. "Another?"

Apparently highly amused, Aemond raises a brow, but refuses to pour you another.

"I think that's quite enough. There's no need to be quite so drunk tonight, I promise."

You pout, setting your glass aside, but starting to feel a pleasant warmth wash over you from the first glass all the same.

"How do we start?" You question, leaning in close to him. Aemond smells of chamomile and sweat and.... maybe just a hint of blood? It's the best thing you've ever smelled.

Aemond reaches for you suddenly, his hands moving to your hips, pulling you gently onto his lap so you can straddle him.

The next breath he takes rattles through him as you settle on top of him, his hands gripping your waist, heart beating fast. "We.... we start here," he whispers, his voice a rough murmur.

"Goodness," you breathe, hands curling over his shoulders to steady yourself. "And.... what do we do here?"

You're trying your best to be brave, and the wine is making it easier, but there is still that niggling worry at the back of your mind, chanting blood blood blood.

Aemond feels that slight tremble in your hands as you grab his shoulders, the way you hesitate and swallow nervously as you ask your question. He can practically hear your thoughts racing, paying attention to the fear and trepidation in your words.

He leans in close, hands slipping from your waist to bracket your ribs, pulling you flush against him, your body cradled easily in his lap. "We start like this," he murmurs, his fingers gently tilting your chin up to look at him. "Just like this."

Slowly, fingers gentle but firm on your chin, he's bringing you in for a kiss.

The sound that leaves your mouth at the first dry press of your lips together is embarrassing. You curse. "I'm sorry." You bite your lip hard, searching Aemond's one violet eye for forgiveness. "Can we try again?"

Aemond chuckles good-naturedly, hands coming up to cup your face, thumbs tracing slow, gentle patterns over your cheeks.

"You have nothing to apologize for," he whispers, leaning ever closer to you, his breath hot against your lips. "We can try as many times as you like, darling."

With a hand again around his wrist to steady yourself, you don't have far to go, what with Aemond's face so close to yours. You press your lips to his - soft yet firm. Your other hand slides up the outside of his thigh as you open your mouth under his, grateful for his willingness to teach you.

You hear Aemond's breath hitch again as he feels your hand moving up his leg, the touch of your slim, soft fingers against his body sending a shiver down his spine. He groans as you open your mouth, his tongue immediately seeking yours, tangling, tasting, claiming.

He grips your hair in one hand, angling your head back so he can deepen the kiss, his other hand back to gripping your hip, pulling you tighter against him.

You do the same, hands migrating down, loving the feeling of Aemond's slim, strong muscle under your fingers. As you kiss, you surreptitiously move the thin cloth of Aemond's tunic aside so you can touch him skin to skin over his sharp hipbones.

This earns you a keen inhale from your husband, who jerks away from you.

"I'm sorry," you breathe. "Is this okay?"

His mouth has opened in a gasp against yours, eyes squeezing shut.

When they open again, he merely looks at you, taking in the soft, pink flush of your cheeks, the way your pupils are thoroughly dilated, your chest heaving. He takes a deep breath, steadying himself. "Yes," he says ruggedly, his voice a scratchy gasp, "I'm sorry, it is. It's okay."

A flood of warmth washes over you, and you grin. You don't know why, but you want to kiss his neck.

Fingers digging hard into his hip, you lean in, nosing his long hair out of the way as your lips meet his neck, sucking and biting. Aemond tastes clean and faintly of rose water.

Aemond's head tips back immediately, giving your lips and teeth free reign over his neck, his skin breaking out in gooseflesh at the unfamiliar sensation. A soft, low moan escapes him as your mouth traces a path along the sensitive skin of his neck.

His body arches against yours. "My love," he gasps, his voice a ragged, breathless plea, "this is maddening."

"Need you to teach me," is your reply, pushing harder against him. "Don't go mad just yet."

He runs his hands down your sides, skimming over the soft, silky material of your dress, his body reacting powerfully to your closeness. "Gods, woman," he gasps, thumbs playing idly along the edge of your ribs, "are you sure you haven't done this before?"

You rest your cheek on Aemond's shoulder, nose brushing along the chiseled line of his jaw. "Positive," you sigh, arms now slung around him. "But I like the way you touch me. It's making me feel all hot and wet.... down there."

At this declaration, Aemond makes a noise you've never heard anyone make before. He nuzzles against your collarbone, pressing slow, hot kisses along the line of your chest just visible over the collar of your dress.

His mouth is starting to curve into a wicked smile. "Do you want me to touch you there, too?"

With a nod, you begin to pull the folds of your dress up over your thighs. "Please. The feeling down there, it's.... very insistent." And Aemond's fingers look perfectly long and warm and rough with calluses.

Aemond swallows hard as he watches the fabric of your dress retreat up over your thighs, the soft, bare skin of your legs suddenly exposed to him. His gaze rakes over you, taking in every detail - the soft, pale flesh, the way the candlelight casts shadows over the curves of your body.

As though trying not to startle you, Aemond runs his knuckles painstakingly slowly up the inside of your thigh. "When we were first betrothed, I knew I had gotten lucky."

That drunken haze still hovering around you, you let your legs slip further apart around him. "Lucky? How so?"

His hand moves further up, touch feather-light against her skin. "Lucky," he murmurs, "because I knew I'd be marrying the most beautiful woman in all Seven Kingdoms."

He lets his hand move higher still, fingers stopping just before they reach the edge of your smallclothes. He pauses, looking intently at you, the question plain on his face.

"I never knew you thought I was beautiful...." You lean more against him, feeling impossibly safe and comfortable in his embrace. "Please. You can."

Hips canting forward, you try to push his hand in toward you.

"The most beautiful," he replies. He can feel your hips moving subtly against his, feel his own desire rising with every move you make.

Those long fingers hook into the edge of your smallclothes, running the backs of his knuckles along the sensitive bit of skin he finds there.

Your eyes flutter shut, the feeling of his gentle fingers finally scooping up under your dress making your stomach flip nervously. "Please." The word is uttered against Aemond's chin, where you've pressed your lips as you wait to feel his hand where you need it most.

As slowly as he an manage, he insinuates those fingers fully inside your smallclothes. He can feel the heat of your skin, the way you squirm in his lap as he moves closer to his destination, his own body reacting strongly to the anticipation.

He leans in, mouth finding yours in a heated, hungry kiss, his fingers finally, finally touching that wet, sensitive flesh between your thighs.

A sharp inhale accompanies the meeting of Aemond's hand to your sex. Everything down there feels so wet already, you suppose you should be embarrassed, but the wine is making it hard to feel so, which you're grateful for.

"Aemond...." Seeking his lips for another kiss, you mutter, "please don't stop."

One long finger sinks into your wet, hot flesh, his entire body shivering at the feeling of you beneath his hands. He lets out a ragged gasp as you kiss him, mouth moving fervently against yours, tongue delving into your mouth, tangling with yours.

With a low, gruff noise, he starts to move his finger inside of you, slow, gentle circles that make your muscles tighten and twitch against his hand. "I won't," he murmurs against your lips, his eyes squeezed shut, "I promise, I won't."

Aemond's finger has slid easily into you, all the way down to the knuckle. "Is it -?" You gasp, glancing down, tugging your skirts out of the way to see better. "It's inside? I thought it would be much more painful...."

You know it might not be the same with his manhood, which is surely a fair bit bigger than one of his fingers, but you're glad things have gone smoothly so far all the same.

Aemond's other hand presses itself solidly against that little bundle of nerves, the one you're familiar with, the one that makes you see stars, and you bite his lower lip a little too hard in response.

"Shit, sorry."

Aemond lets out a low chuckle at your reaction, his lips curving into a smile against your mouth. "No need to apologize, sweet girl," he mutters. "There's a possibility it might hurt more than this when we go further, but I promise I'll be gentle."

He moves his finger in and out of you slowly, his other hand still pressing against you, the pad of his thumb circling that swollen bud, his touch gentle but firm. "How does this feel?"

A pang of fear shoots through you at his declaration that you will likely be in pain later on, but it's soothed by the way Aemond's fingers are gently coaxing themselves inside of you and over your clit.

"It feels perfect, Aemond. I never even knew it could feel this good." Not even when you'd touched yourself in bed at night.

Aemond's eye darkens as he hears your words, the sound of your voice, gutted and breathless, making his stomach clench. "This is just the beginning, sweet girl. There's so much more I can show you."

He slips another finger into you, feeling your body tighten and go taut around him, his own body still reacting powerfully to the sight and feel of you. He leans in to kiss you again, his mouth hungrily claiming yours.

With another finger inside, you start to squirm in his lap, and your hand slips, colliding with something hard inside of Aemond's trousers.

"Aemond," you gasp, "it.... it's hard."

Aemond lets out a strangled noise as your hand brushes against him, his body shuddering, his eye squeezing shut. "Ah, shit, sweetheart," he gasps, his breath ragged, "Don't do that."

He looks at you, his breath coming in quick, rough pants, his eye darkened to a deep, intense violet. "I'm going to be patient with you."

He says this like he's trying to convince himself of it.

"I'm sorry," you gasp again, hands flying to your mouth. "I didn't mean to touch it...."

Gaze flickering to the windows, to the Targaryen flags flying from every turret, you stifle a smile. "But maybe.... maybe you don't have to be so patient...."

Aemond growls at your words, fingers slowing their ministrations over you. "How impatient would you have me be?"

You reach down to take his free hand - the one currently touching your clit in nice, soft circles - in yours, lacing your fingers as you lean into him. "Still gentle, just.... Maybe lead me? Show me how things like this should be done."

Aemond can practically feel his self-restraint slipping at your words, the feeling of your small, soft hand in his making his head spin. He takes a deep breath, trying desperately to maintain control, to keep up the facade of gentility.

He grips your chin with his free hand, lifting your face to meet his eye, his voice low and rough. "Are you sure you're ready for that?" He asks, the question almost pained.

"I am. I'm sure." You wrap your shoulders around him, burying your face against his neck. "Take me to bed and show me, please."

Aemond swallows hard, the feeling of your breath against him sending a shudder through him. Lifting you easily in his arms, he stands silently from the settee.

The loss of Aemond's fingers from inside of you makes you whine, clinging to his broad shoulders as he makes his way to the bed.

He lays you gently down, crawling over you, hand once again trailing up the soft expanse of your thigh.

"Aemond...."

A sweet noise rumbles through him as he positions himself on top of you, body pressing you down against the covers, hips slotting between your legs. His gaze as he looks down on you is fiery, eye raking over your body, hands gripping and kneading the supple flesh of your thighs.

"You drive me mad, do you know that?" He murmurs. He leans down to kiss your neck, his mouth hot and insistent against your skin.

With Aemond on top of you, you reach around to tug the back of his tunic up, skimming your fingers along the warm skin of his lower back.

"Why did you never.... tell me before?" You mutter quietly, nibbling at Aemond's earlobe.

Aemond allows himself a deep moan as you touch him, your fingers roaming over his skin, your mouth on his ear. He rolls his hips against you, the aching hardness of his body weighing you down.

"Gods, I don't know," he gasps, his hands roaming over the soft curves of your body. "Maybe I could tell you were afraid of me. Maybe I was a fool."

"I suppose we both were fools." You curl your tongue around Aemond's ear, teasing.

His hardness is pressing insistently against you through your clothes. Aemond leans his forehead to yours. "I'm going to take your dress off now. Is that alright?"

You've never been naked in front of anyone before, but Aemond is making you feel so safe that you nod hurriedly, sitting up. "Yes, please."

Aemond's eye darkens at your nod, his hands immediately going to the laces of your dress, working them loose until the fabric falls away from your body. He lets his gaze roam over your exposed skin, his fingers tracing the soft planes of your body, reverent and gentle.

"Seven Hells," he mutters, his voice a ragged whisper, "I've never seen anything so perfect."

The wine allows you to feel comfortable enough to stretch out over top of your discarded dress, staring up at him over the swell of your breasts. "Don't you want to touch your perfect wife, Aemond?"

"Of course I do," he mutters. He moves aside only slightly, letting his fingers scrape over one of your hardened nipples. "I want to touch every part of you."

You arch into his touch, his fingertips hard and callused against your sensitive nipple. "Aemond.... Would I be a complete whore if I asked for your fingers back inside of me?"

"No," he mutters easily, a hand running its way down your body, the other holding himself above you. "No, you wouldn't. But I want you to ask for it, my love. I want you to tell me exactly what you want."

Your breathing quickening, the air in the room thick and heavy, you spread your legs around him, unabashed. "i want you to touch me. To touch my stomach, my hips and thighs .... my cunt. Please."

Aemond makes a ragged noise at your request, his body shuddering as you open yourself to him. He trails his hand lower, his fingers grazing over your stomach, trailing over your hips and thighs, before coming to rest between your legs.

He lets that hand rest on your for a moment, feeling your wetness, his violet eye dark and full of lust. "Is this what you wanted, darling?"

"Yes," comes your voice, wrecked, entire body feeling overheated and overwhelmed already. "Gods, Aemond, I.... I'm sorry I didn't ask for this earlier."

You run your hands up Aemond's toned arms, tugging on the short sleeves of his tunic. "M-May I take this off?"

Feeling you tug at his tunic, Aemond nods, loving that ragged and pleading tone in your voice. He can feel the heat radiating off your body, can see the raw, pleading look in your eyes, and he's never been more turned on in his life.

By way of a real answer, he reaches down and hooks his fingers under the hem of his shirt to rip it off over his head. He shakes his hair out majestically, making you giggle.

But after that giggle.... You can do nothing but lay beneath him and stare. His body is perfect, abs cut into his skin above the smooth, narrow line of his hips.

"Goodness ...." You whisper, fingertips prodding at his hardened stomach. "You're.... actually perfect."

"Perfect, really?" He replies, clearly perplexed. "I'd say I'm looking at perfection right now."

You whimper, Aemond's moist lips once more at your neck, his body pressed to yours. "How do you.... get your body to look that way? Maybe you can teach me that too, as well as how to ride a dragon."

Aemond laughs softly, his teeth scraping against you as he kisses down your neck. "It's actually quite simple," he murmurs, his hands roaming over your body, arms caging you in against the bed. "Just a lot of sword practice and fighting."

He pauses, his lips trailing teasingly over the line of your jaw. "I'm going to teach you to ride more than just a dragon, my love."

"I could sword fight." Your voice doesn't sound like it ever has before. "Easy. Train me."

You gasp at his words, nails now digging into his back. "And what else are you going to teach me to ride, husband?"

Aemond lets out a low chuckle at your response, his muscles coiling where your nails dig into his skin. He rolls his hips against you and makes you gasp.

"I can teach you how to ride me," he mutters, his voice a rough, ragged whisper. "Or maybe you'd like a ride on my face."

Your eyes go wide, and you press him away by the shoulder just so you can look him in the eye. "I.... I'm allowed to do that?"

You've never heard of this - using your mouth? Why have you never thought of it before?

"Of course you are," he murmurs, looking bemusedly down on you. "And I would be more than happy to let you."

His hot breath whispers over your skin as he leans to speak into your ear. "You've never heard of it before, have you?"

"I haven't." You tilt your head, fingers tender along Aemond's jaw. "How should I.... How do I do it?"

Aemond's eye closes at the feeling of your fingers, tender on his jaw, your touch ever gentle and caressing. He makes a very small noise and shudders over top of you. "It's easy, darling."

"I just lean back here...." With one swift movement, Aemond rolls and settles himself against the pillows. "You come up here...."

Gentle but insistent hands guide you, pulling you all the way up. "And swing a leg over me."

Still helped along by his strong hands, you throw one knee on the opposite side of Aemond's head, bracketing his ears with your thighs. "Like.... this?"

This position makes you feel as nervous as you have all night, even with the aid of the wine - Aemond can see all of you. Truly all of you, and you can't quite meet his eye because of it.

Aemond's hands tighten on your thighs, his breathing growing ragged. He can sense your nervousness, the way your muscles are tensing up, the way you're avoiding his eye.

He rubs his hands soothingly across your thighs, trying to relax you. "That's it, darling." His voice is soft, comforting. "You look gorgeous."

You bite your lip, carding one hand through Aemond's alluring silver hair. The other you place over his good eye, the hint of a smile on your face as you mutter, "Don't look...."

Aemond smirks, and yanks you suddenly, roughly forward by the backs of your thighs, so that your womanhood is directly above his smirking lips. "As you wish."

He places a single, open-mouthed kiss to your clit and the suction, the wetness, of it all is enough to make you squeal.

There's one poignant moment where Aemond's intensely hot, wet mouth rests over your womanhood. Then, with a jagged moan, he begins to lave over you, lips, tongue, and teeth working in tandem.

His callused palms cradle the backs of your thighs, keeping you in place as his tongue works you over. And when that same tongue points itself deep inside of your core, you can no longer keep your hand over his eye, lest you want to smash your husband's head painfully into the sheets.

Instead, that hand flies to the headboard, holding on for dear life. "Gods, Aemond! I.... I've never felt anything like this, what.... what in the seven hells...."

Aemond redoubles his grip on your thighs, keeping you in place as he works you with his tongue, his mouth and teeth and lips bringing you to new heights of pleasure. He moans roughly, and the sound reverberates through you, making your mouth fall open.

"Just... relax, my love," he mutters against your folds, "I did say I would worship you, did I not?"

You nod, still petting a hand gently through Aemond's hair, coiling your fingers around the strands, feeling how soft it is. Your eyes, however, are trained on the gilded ceiling when you answer.

"Y-You did, but.... this.... I didn't even know this was a thing people did. Is this.... common?"

"No, sweet one," he mutters, his voice thick with desire and - somewhere - a hint of disdain, "it isn't common. Most men see their wives as something to be claimed, conquered. And I...."

"You see them as something to be worshipped," you answer, remembering his words from earlier.

Aemond lets out a low chuckle against you as you knot your fingers in his hair, his tongue continuing to lathe across you. He lifts his head for a moment, his lips and chin glistening, a smirk on his face. "Look at me."

You do, and are rewarded with his fingers climbing the insides of your thighs, splaying themselves over you. "You are the most exquisite creature I've ever laid eyes on."

The sight of his face, so slick with you, his eye dark, his sapphire glinting, his fingers roaming over your thighs, it all makes you shiver, your breathing coming in short, ragged gasps.

"And you," he continues, voice muffled against your folds, "you taste divine."

And without another word, he dives back in, his tongue delving into you once more, his hands gripping your thighs, bringing you lower, closer to him.

All of this - Aemond telling you how beautiful you are, his talented mouth on you, the haze of the wine moving through you - has you tumbling toward the edge quicker than you've ever done so by yourself.

"Aemond.... close!" You give a hard tug to Aemond's hair, warning him.

He closes his eyes as he focuses on nothing more than bringing you further to the edge, the heat of your body and the taste of you driving him wild, pushing him to give you more, more, more.

"Just.... let go," he mutters against you. "I want you to let go for me, my sweet."

You're trembling now, hips riding down against his face of their own accord. "Oh, gods...." You've never done this in front of anyone before. What will Aemond think of the way you climax? Will it be embarrassing? "Aemond...."

There's no longer any time to think it over, though, as one last swipe of his tongue sends you spiraling with a loud cry.

Aemond's heart is pounding hard, watching you cum, his eye wide and alight with desire as he watches your body shudder and shake above him, your cry of pleasure filling the room and, undoubtedly, the hallways around it.

He helps you ride out the wave of pleasure, his tongue slowly bringing you back down, peppering your thighs and hip bones with hot, open-mouthed kisses.

Your eyes fluttering, your chest heaving, Aemond coaxes you through your first climax with him and then maneuvers you down to lay beside him. You feel so boneless, you sure you aren't much help in this endeavor.

"That was...." You don't even have the words to describe what just happened to you.

Aemond watches you closely as you lay beside him, breasts rising and falling heavily, your skin flushed and marked all over with his mouth, one hand trailing lightly over your stomach. The sight of you, well-loved and satisfied, makes his chest burn with desire.

He leans in close to you, curling his body around yours like a protective shield. His mouth trailing over your neck, his voice a quiet whisper. "That was beautiful. And we're only getting started."

You gaze at him out of half-lidded eyes, your body already feeling drained from just one round. "What...." You stifle a yawn behind your hand, trying to hide it. "What's next?"

Aemond laughs at the sight of you yawning, both hands now brushing over your body, his touch gentle. He can see the exhaustion in your eyes, hear the tiredness in your voice.

He leans down and presses a loving kiss to your forehead. "I don't think you're quite ready for more yet, my love. You look like you're barely awake."

Through your tiredness, you whine, "But you promised to show me. What it's like...." You're pressing sleepy kisses to Aemond's jaw, lips sweeping down over his neck.

Aemond's lashes flutter at your tiny kisses, his arms curling strong and protective around you. He makes an odd noise, and you realize you may have had an orgasm, but he never did.

"I can take care of it for you." Searching down below, hands clumsy and heavy with sleep, you feel Aemond grab for your wrist.

"And you will," he mutters, admonishing. "But tonight it's getting late, and you're tired. We have our whole lives together, we need not rush this."

Another yawn overtakes you, and you snuggle down into his warmth. "Tomorrow, then?" You mumble, arms slung lazily around him. "And dragon riding tomorrow, too...."

Aemond chuckles again at your insistence, hands gently rubbing themselves over your body, comforting you. He shifts back on the bed, pulling you into his chest and wrapping his arms around you, holding you as close as possible.

"Of course, my love," he murmurs, his voice a gentle, soothing rumble in your ear. "Tomorrow. And dragon riding, too. But for now, you need to sleep."

Aemond runs the very tips of his fingers up and down your back, just along your spine.

"I really am sorry, Aemond...." You're already half asleep, struggling to stay awake, to get the words out. "D'you really forgive me?"

Aemond sighs.

"Of course I forgive you," he whispers, breath tickling your ear. "It's all in the past now, my love. The only thing that matters is you and me, right here, right now. And dragon riding tomorrow, I promise...."

[mythicmanuscripts]

Need to know how our favorite HOTD subby babies respond to being called “good boy” 🥰

Ooo brilliant brilliant question!! I think what I'll do is right a little bit about how they reacted the first time and then a little bit about how the term is continued to be used? I hope that makes sense!

Sweet but NSFW subby content below!

JACE:

The first time you do it, the poor thing comes on the spot. He really didnt expect that sudden praise and honestly has no idea what to even do with himself about it. He had been so worked up, so needy and whiney and barely able to contain himself when you finally have him attention, so when you decided to suddenly call him good boy for the first time, he didnt stand a chance.

After this, it's a term Jace absolutely adores, but he's always careful to never seem too obvious with how much he loves it and how much he's always waning for you to call him that again. Jace is already such a needy little thing from the moment the clothes start coming off that the doesn't want to request even more from you. You think it's absolutely adorable that he thinks he's hiding how much he loves bring called that. You can see his eyes light up every single time, so of course you're well aware of how much he loves it..

AEMOND:

The first time you call aemond a good boy, he stop what he's doing and walks away. He doesn't say a single thing, just leaves. You run after him, confused about what could have upset him that much. It's only after you literally drag him back into your quarters that he finally just says he doesnt know why you'd make fun of him like that. That's one you realise that Almond thought the praise was a joke, that you were trying to hurt him.

That couldnt be further from the truth of course, but that's difficult for him to expect when all he's had his entire life is people making fun of his weaknesses. So when you tel him that you're being 100% serious, that he really has been so good and made you so happy? He just falls into your embrace and holds you extra right, crying softly for a little while.

He gets better and better at receiving praise without losing his mind, but good boy is one that will always make him go absolutely feral.

AEGON:

So there's actually this head cannon that I've had for a while and never really had the right opportunity to mention it about sub!aegon so I'm gonna do that here. I think that he knew he was a sub pretty quickly, and of course the women he pays in the brothels are more than happy to fulfil that goal. Aegon knows he likes it, knows he likes being told what to do and manhandled and fucked until he cries.

The problem though, is that it seems like for all the brothel workers, the only way to dominate him is so be mean and use humiliation and degradation. That part.... that part he hated.

So when he gets with you and you want to be in charge but you praise him instead of degrade him? Well, he's never setting foot into a brothel ever again.

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Neil talking about the responses to Good Omens Season 2 - from the Neil Gaiman interview with Brian Levine for The Gould Standard (x,x)

BL: The audience that you have built is a very passionately engaged audience. They, frankly, they love you. And one of the reasons they love you is that you fit into what I think of as one of two great divisions in art. There's, or in writing, um, there is: I'm entertained, I'm amused. I may be even enchanted; and then there's this hits me at a visceral level. You understand me as no one else does. You have touched something very central to my experience. And it seems to me that Much of your writing, maybe all of your writing, actually reaches your audience at that latter level. You know. I would say in the former category, sort of my quintessential and beloved example would be P. G. Woodhouse. He amuses me, but I don't feel like he's revealed my inner self at a very deep level. Um, were you aware that you were going to be able to achieve that? Um, that this is something... was it a startling thing when people began coming up to you, who'd read your work and said, this means so much to me?

Neil: Yeah. It was huge. And it wasn't expected. I... if I had a mountaintop I was heading towards, it was gonna be P. G. Woodhouse. Um, I wanted to be a proficient entertainer with a clear prose style who could tell stories. Um, it probably wasn't until Sandman that I found... I started to realize that in order for a story to work, I had to show too much. In order for a story to resonate, in order for a story to matter, I had to let it matter too much. And, and I remember the first people who would start coming up to me and saying, um, you, you know, your, your Sandman comics got me through the death of a loved one. Your death character got me through my child's death, through my parent's death, through my partner's death, through my friend's death. Um, and that left me kind of amazed. I'm like, well, I didn't write it to do that. I wrote it to feed my children. I wrote it to satisfy myself. I wrote it because nobody else had ever written it. And if I didn't write it, it wouldn't be written, but I don't think I wrote it to give you what you've taken from it. And I spent really about 20, 25 years feeling awkward about that. And then my father died, in March 2009, and never got to cry about it. Never... I, you know, I've, I've got on a plane and I went to the UK and dealt with the funeral stuff and organized all of that stuff and came back and go toff the plane and went and did Stephen Colbert's Colbert Report and wearing the funeral suit because and that was all I had with me and carried on. And then, somewhere in the middle of summer, I was reading a friend's script. They'd sent me a script and said, can you look this over? And I'm reading it, and on page 20, the lead character meets somebody, and on page 26 maybe, she's dead, and I burst into tears. And I'm bawling. I am sobbing. It is coming out of me in giant racking waves. And I realized that it's everything that I'd been, hadn't let myself feel, or hadn't been able, hadn't stopped enough to let myself feel, was suddenly being given permission to feel by the death of a fictional person who I'd met six pages earlier, ia script. And I thought that... and it was huge for me, and I thought, okay, that's that thing that people are talking about sometimes, when they come tome and they say, you, you did this. So right now, I'm in this weird, wonderful place where I think a lot of people in Good Omens Season 2 thought they were signing up for the P.G. Woodhouse, and didn't know that, no, no, no, you've, you've signed up for the whole thing. You've signed up for the feelings. You've signed up for the emotions. I... it is my job to make you care and to make you feel and to feel things you haven't felt before. And which meant that the first week or so after Good Omens came out, I was getting angry, furious, deeply upset messages on every possible social medium telling me that I had betrayed people, and it was awful, and they couldn't stop crying, and why would I do that to them, and did I hate them? And they hated me. And then a weird sort of phenomenon happened as people would watch the show again. And again. And now they started to know, okay, this is where it's gonna go, this is what's gonna happen, this is how it works. And they started realizing that they were actually feeling things, and that was good. And that they were caring about two people who don't exist. You know, I made them up, and then and Terry Pratchett made them up, and then, um, David Tennant and Michael Sheen gave them life, and then they get to walk around on a screen and you know they don't exist, but you can cry for them, you can love them, they can make you laugh, they can make you exult, and most important of all, they can make you care. And the number of people who are now writing to me, saying, 'This was so important to me. This has changed my life. This makes me feel like I belong. This makes me feel like I can cope. And it's let me sort of find myself. P. S. I hope you get to do Season Three.' is, is huge.

[lomlhwa]

y'know what they say about guitarists (c.s)

pairing: guitarist!san x vocalist!reader

preview: san has watched you flirt with entire crowds. he just wants some of that attention too.

tags/warnings: fem reader, mentions of drummer!mingi, bassist!yunho and stage manager!seonghwa, ONE BED TROPE WHO CHEERED, possessive san, spit play, pet names (good girl, pretty girl, sweet girl), praise, pussy drunk san, dacryphilia, lots of hickeys, unprotected penetration (wrap it before you tap it), creampie, cockwarming

trigger warnings: n/a

w/c: 2.0k

song recs for this fic: any chase atlantic tbh (slow down, swim, heaven and back)

a/n: this lovely fic is dedicated to @kitten4sannie to celebrate my return to writing! i hope you like this ml!

as you’re onstage playing a gig for a couple thousand people, you feel like you’re in your element. nothing feels better than being onstage with your bandmates. your hips sway to the music coming from the musicians sharing the stage with you.

you give playful winks and body rolls to the fans in the front row. something that always catches your guitarists eye. though, his rhythm never falters. 

jealousy always courses through him. he wants to receive those playful gestures from you. you even wink at mingi, your drummer from time to time. the beloved bassist, yunho, receives the most of your onstage affection. hugs, cheek kisses, etc. makes the male fans jealous. makes san’s blood boil. 

your angelic voice rings through the in-ear monitors that each band member wears. it sends shivers down san’s spine. so talented and so incredibly beautiful.

as your gig ends, you giggle and thank the fans who attended. “thank you guys so much for coming! i love you! we’ll see you next time!” you bow and flounce your way backstage in your cute outfit. your band members follow suit, bowing and running backstage.

“thank was great guys! well done,” you stage manager says. you wrap your arms around his shoulders and smile. “thanks hwa.” you let go of him and turn to yunho. “yuyu, your guitar playing was extra good today!” you exclaim, smiling so brightly that the sun might have competition. you peck his cheek before running off to your stylist to get changed.

san’s shoulders slump, knowing that he won’t receive those small actions of affection from you. “feeling left out, sannie?” mingi asks, towering over the smaller guitarist. san nods, not bothering to look up at mingi. 

“why don’t you just talk to her? there’s gotta be a reason she’s reserved around you,” yunho points out from across the room. his makeup artist is hunched over him, removing his makeup ever so carefully. 

“talk to who about what?” you say, suddenly coming out of your dressing room. you’re beautiful even now; no makeup and in your pajamas. “no one. nothing,” san blurts out. fuck. he’s so stupid. “okay,” you smile, sipping your water through a straw. 

“you guys ready to go back to the hotel?” you ask and the other three members nod in unison. you grab your bag and head for the door. “san’s rooming with you tonight, y/n.” you look back at yunho with wide eyes. “oh! um, okay.” you give san a confused look before heading out the door.  

san flips yunho off before following you out the door. you all pile into the company van and sit in comfortable silence as you head to the hotel. you file out of the van when you pull up, security making sure no fans get to you. you scurry into the building and do your best to sneak into your hotel rooms. you sigh dramatically as you get the door shut. 

you turn around to find san staring at your hotel room in horror. “what’s the probl-” you cut yourself off when you find that your room only has one queen sized bed. “shit,” you mutter. you drop your bag on the floor before you whip your phone out and dial seonghwa’s number. 

“hwa, what the actual fuck? one bed?” san can hear seonghwa trying to explain. he picks up pieces of the conversation. something about this being all that was left when he was booking. something else about telling you to suck it up. you mutter some insults before hanging up on seonghwa.

“i can just sleep on the floor, it’s fine y/n,” san drops his bag on the floor and sits down on the ground next to the bed. “no, san, we can share the bed. we’re touring. i don’t want your limbs to ache,” you shake your head as you climb into the bed. you pat the space next to you and he clambers onto the mattress. 

after a couple hours, you’re both laying on your backs in the dark, in silence. “hey y/n?” san says, finally breaking the silence. you give him a soft hum in response. “can i ask you about something that’s been bothering me?” he asks. you hum again.

“why don’t you give me the same attention you give mingi, yunho and seonghwa? no hugs, no pecks, nothing. you’ll skip over me just to give the ones beside me those things. why? did i do something to make you uncomfortable? or scared to do those things for me?” san can feel you tense up next to him. he wonders why that’s how you reacted. 

“cause…” you trail off. san can see the outline of you sit up in the dark. “cause i have a crush on you. if i gave you that affection, i would never survive. if i gave you a single hug, i would never let go. if i kissed your cheek, i would never be able to keep it from turning into a real kiss,” the confession hangs in the air like a spiderweb. he sits up, like you did. “why didn’t you tell me?” san asks. you sigh and shrug, despite the fact that he can barely see you.

“i didn’t wanna ruin the band dynamic. i didn’t wanna risk you not reciprocating and making things awkward between us. i was just scared that-” san pulls your head back so he can meet your lips with his. it’s swift, but it’s enough to make you sputter in shock.

“i’ve liked you since we even started this band, sweet girl.” despite being in the dark, he maneuvers you onto your back and hovers over you. his cologne envelops you and you shiver. 

“can i…. kiss you again?” san asks tentatively. he ghosts his fingers over your ribcage, making you squirm. “yes, please, san,” you respond. with your permission, he connects your lips in a surprisingly soft kiss. he lips melt with yours, finding a slow pace. his tongue drags over your bottom lip, asking for your plump lips to part.

your warm mouth welcomes san’s tongue as it pokes and prods at your inner cheek and fights with your own tongue. your hips grind up into his, searching for friction. he groans against your lips and it sounds more beautiful than any sound that’s ever come out of his guitar. 

his hands gravitate towards your hips to hold them down, keeping you from grinding anymore. “we can’t…” san whispers. “they’ll hear us.” you shake your head and pull him back down to you, kissing him more feverishly. “fuck… you make it so hard to resist you.” you whine against his lips, fighting his weight holding your hips down. “please, i need you.”

you can feel a moment of hesitation from him before he just lets himself relax into you. his hands leave your hips and you immediately grind up. his jaw falls open and you shudder at the sound that comes out of him again. 

you grab his hand and drag it under your shirt, wrapping his hand around your breast. your spine arches as he pinches your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger. “sannie-” your breath gets caught in your throat when his mouth moves to your neck and he nibbles on your skin lightly. 

“fuck, i can’t wait. let me undress you, sweet girl,” san begs you, his voice low and desperate. you tangle your fingers in his hair and nod as well as you can. his hand leaves your breast and helps his other hand to lift your shirt off you. you lift your torso up to allow for it to come off you completely. he wastes no time in allowing his own shirt to follow suit. your hands run down his chest to his abs, pressing against the muscle lightly. his hands undo the drawstrings on your sleep shorts, sliding your shorts and underwear down together. 

“off,” you mumble, clawing at his plaid pajama pants. he giggles and slides his pants down, discarding them with the rest of the clothes. he runs his hands over your bare thighs, spreading your legs gently. san’s hands run up and down your skin as he leans back down to kiss you. “condom?” he whispers and you shake your head. “no, wanna feel you.” 

san continues to kiss you as one of his hands moves down to his cock, stroking it a few times. he lines the tip up with your hole and sucks in a deep breath. he presses your thighs apart as he shoves his cock inside you, sheathing himself to the hilt. your hips stutter as your walls flutter around him. 

your jaw falls slack and san finds purchase in kissing your jawline and your throat. he pulls out to the tip before slamming back into you and you slam your hand over your mouth to keep from crying out. 

san lifts himself onto his palms to trap you between his arms. “you know what, sweet girl?” he says between thrusts, “you’re fucking mine. you hear me? mine,” his lips are right next to your ear, whispering these words into your brain. “you belong to me,” he grabs your face and forces you to face him.

“your lips? mine,” he kisses you roughly before pulling away again. “your pretty tits? mine,” he leans down to kiss your skin, leaving dark marks in the wake of his lips. “your pretty little pussy? it’s fucking mine,” san speeds up his thrusts to prove his point. your back arches and his tip jabs at the perfect gummy spot inside you. 

“fuck, you’re such a good girl. your pussy is so fucking good. so wet, so warm. you take me so fucking perfectly. my pretty girl. open your mouth for me,” you open your mouth immediately and he leans down to spit in your mouth. “swallow.” your jaw snaps shut to swallow his saliva. 

as your orgasm builds up, tears spring into your eyes. your chest heaves with tight sobs of just how fucking good it feels. “are you crying? does it feel that good, sweet girl?” you wipe your tears away messily, embarrassed that you’re even crying.

wiping your tears was pointless because when his thrusts speed up again, new tears fall immediately. “fuck, oh my god san that feels so fucking good,” you cry out, a little bit too loud. your thighs spasm as you try to close them, but san’s hips between your legs keep you wide open. 

“i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum, please,” your hands claw as san’s biceps, your climax being right there. “me too. where do you want it, pretty girl?” he asks, his hips becoming more and more feverish. “inside, fuck, cum inside me.” san bites his bottom lip as his thrusts become sloppier.

you wrap your arms around his torso and bring him down to you so you can dig your nails into his back. he rests his body weight on his elbows and you clench around him. “cumming,” you whisper as your back arches for a final time before stuttering back down. the intensity of your walls gushing around him finally sends san over the edge. 

the two of you just lay there completely still as ropes of cum fill up your abused hole. your legs wrap around his hips so that he won’t pull out before you want him to. “you’re so perfect. you’re so beautiful, so pretty when you cum,” he strokes your hair as he whispers in your ear again. 

“let me pull out so you can go to the bathroom and then we can sleep, okay?” you shake your head. “no. no. stay. roll over so i’m on top. lemme sleep with you inside. please. please, sannie,” you begging goes right to his head and he does exactly as you asked. with you situated on top of him, cock still inside, he pulls the blanket over the two of you. “we have to get up early to shower though, okay?” you nod.

_____________

“good morning love bugs. your throat gonna be okay to sing tonight?” yunho smirks at you and you smack san. “hey! i was the one who said they were gonna hear us!” he cries out. “at least you finally fucked,” mingi comments. 

“yeah, real fuckin good,” seonghwa comments, looking exhausted. he was in the room right next to yours. he shakes his head. “i’m sorry hwa.”

“get in the fucking van.”

© lomlhwa 2024

[niningtori]

supermodel | part one

part two

pairing: choi beomgyu x you

summary: after beomgyu ghosts you after three (what you thought were) really successful dates, your close friend asks you if she can date him instead. you, being the pushover you are, say yes. but beomgyu's not done bothering you.

genre: romance, angst, smut (MDNI!!!)

warnings: MDNI!!! cheating (not on you [and it's lowkey justified if you ask me]), unprotected sex (no!), oral (f. receiving), creampie, dacryphilia, praise, degradation, manipulative!beomgyu if you squint (lmk if you catch it lmao), if i missed anything lmk

word count: 6k (ouuu... definitely not 13k i'm sorry anon my love)

notes: ...hi. so, as most of my followers know, i primarily write angst. this is my first time ever posting smut on here and i genuinely don't know if it's any good. if it's bad,,,, i'm sorry in advance!! see ending for more notes :)

you do not like beomgyu. you don't like the way he keeps his hair so long, or the way he tucks it behind his ears when he's focused. you don't like that he has the same music taste as you and how much of a snob he is about it. you don't like the way he laughs obnoxiously loud and you especially don't like the way his cheeks dimple like little whiskers when he does it. no, you don't like beomgyu one bit.

it hasn't always been like this. there was a time, albeit brief and fleeting, that you really liked the aforementioned grievances you've grown to hate so much. in fact, you liked them so much, you even liked the boy himself. that ship has sailed, though. and it sails further and further as you watch him cuddle up even closer to one of your closest friends, hana. you aren't a bitter person, really. you're usually pretty laidback, all things considered, so when hana asked you if she could date the boy who ghosted you after three (what you thought were) really successful dates, you said yes. 

do you regret agreeing? well, how can you regret it when hana looks so happy? in fact, she looks happier than ever as beomgyu discreetly places his hand on her inner thigh. oh man. you think you're gonna be sick.

-

meeting beomgyu was like a meet cute in a romcom. you were alone in a cafe (cliché, but true) when he pulled up a seat and sat next to you. he was cute, he was charming, and, most surprisingly, he was actually really funny. he made you giggle more than once and you almost couldn't believe someone so seemingly perfect wanted anything to do with you, but he did. he was extremely eager, if anything, because as soon as you gave him your number, he texted you asking if you wanted to go out sometime. you, with your innocent heart, could only agree. 

your first date was at that same cafe. he had memorized your order, even though he had only met you once, and you felt so flattered your heart skipped a beat. you're a little on the shyer side, but he was able to pull you out of your shell with ease. you'd later find out he has the ability to do that with everyone, but back then, you were amazed by how naturally he pulled it off.

after your first date, you'd texted all your friends about it. they asked for pictures and details, but you said it was too early and you didn't want to jinx it. you're the type to try not to get too caught up in the moment in favor of being more realistic, so it had been a pleasant surprise for most of your friends to hear how excited you were. this could really be something special, you thought. 

and special, it was. your second date had been at a nice restaurant you'd never heard of. beomgyu was pulling out all the stops for you and spared nothing when it came to giving you the royal treatment. he was courteous and kind, but still mischievously flirty. you were enamored with everything about him. you were used to being treated kindly on dates, of course, but you had never seen anything quite like beomgyu. it seemed like he couldn't get enough of you, which was a novel feeling, though totally welcomed.

you finally felt confident enough to tell your friends all about him. when asked, you had no problem divulging all the finer details of your dates. you had nothing but praises for him, and even sent one of his instagram pictures to show off his good looks. most of them were taken aback at how handsome he was. hana, however, was not at all surprised. it shocked you to find out that she knew beomgyu, and knew him well. she had floated in the same circle of friends with him in college and you were pleased to find out that he had always been a really nice guy, if a little flighty at times, but he had never been that way with you. plus, it seemed to you that he had matured quite a bit. for once in your life, you got your hopes up. but, like most things, you would come to regret it. 

your third and final date had been simple enough. he had asked you to come hang out at his place, but said his friends would likely be coming and going. it was nice. it was intimate. his apartment was small and a little messy, but filled with personality. you smiled when you saw polaroids he had taken of (and with) his friends adorning his bedroom walls. he seemed really sentimental, actually, but you liked that about him. you liked everything about him, really. 

so when he leaned in for a kiss while watching some dumb old slasher flick, you closed your eyes and prepared to meet his warm lips. this was real. you would have a boyfriend, a near perfect one. and he liked you. he really, really liked you. what more could you ask for? but you never expected that a phone call would pull you out of your daze. you checked the caller id and immediately became worried. hana very rarely called you, but she said she was having an emergency and you, being the good friend you are, had to bail on beomgyu. the emergency in question was her having a meltdown over some guy she had never even mentioned, but had apparently really liked. you had no choice but to go to her place, bringing a tub of ice cream and all of her favorite snacks in tow. beomgyu said he understood, because of course he did, and said he would text you with other plans. 

when he, in fact, did not text you first with plans, you had opted to text him yourself. you figured he had just forgotten or something, so you simply greeted him and apologized again for having to leave. it seems so fucking stupid to you now — the way you waited so anxiously by the phone for a reply that would never come. you remember staying up all night and jolting every time your phone buzzed. you were anxiously awaiting a text, a call, fucking  anything, really. but it was pointless. after a few days of radio silence on beomgyu's end, you had pretty much resigned yourself to the fact that he would never respond. what did you do to scare him away? you thought you had done everything right, but you must’ve come on too strong or something. you felt utterly humiliated. 

you were in your head again. it wouldn't surprise you if you had imagined the whole fucking thing, actually. but a few weeks later, hana had texted you asking if you were okay with her dating the boy you'd been waiting for. she seemed so hopeful and so happy, how could you say no? just because it didn't work out between you two didn't mean that it couldn't work out between them. maybe, deep down, the ugliest parts of you kind of hoped it wouldn't, but when she texted you with all the filthy details of the first time they hooked up, you knew you were thinking too highly of yourself. 

-

beomgyu doesn't like you, and even if his refusal to text you back wasn't enough of an indication that that's the case, his attitude towards you while dating hana tells you everything you need to know. the way he manages to antagonize you over what would normally be completely menial things should be studied. when you trip over your words, he makes a point to call it out and laugh, which results in you, of course, tripping over your words even more. when you look like shit, he makes sarcastic comments along the lines of "oh i see you've decided to really doll yourself up this evening". what's worse is you're so non-confrontational, you just let him chirp. 

what you don't know is that the more unbothered you look, the more eager he is to elicit a reaction out of you. it drives him crazy how nothing seems to drive you crazy, so he pushes and pushes, but it's like a fist landing on cotton. he's on the brink of madness trying to get you to say something, anything. but you never do. you just smile or shake your head and it's all he can do not to snap. 

-

you’re at your favorite bar when you meet him. you’re not alone, or at least you shouldn’t be, but hana has gone outside to make a call. usually, you��d be the first one to accompany her, but you’re honestly not in the mood to hear her flirt with beomgyu (or beomie bear, as she calls him) over the phone. you never are, really, but especially not now as you down another shot of whatever the bartender has deemed as “the strongest shit they’ve got.” you don’t think you look particularly attractive at the moment, but when jay sees you, he’s flocking towards you. 

“hey,” he says with a smile as he slides onto the stool next to yours. 

“hey,” you reply shyly. are you imagining things or did he seriously just blush at your answer? 

“i-i’m jay.” you can’t help but giggle at how nervous he seems. cute. 

you take the time to introduce yourself and jay seems relieved that you’re actually receptive to his awkwardness. you like the way it feels to be in control for once. you like the way it feels to be wanted so much. so when he asks you if you want to go out in the near future, you say yes.

in the midst of your conversation, hana comes sauntering back in with a dopey grin on her face. she has, no doubt, just gotten off the phone with beomgyu if her satisfied expression is any indication. her satisfaction turns into surprise when she registers who’s sitting next to you.

“jay?!” she exclaims, taken aback by the familiar boy next to you. 

“hana? oh my god, how are you?” he asks, standing up and pulling her into a hug. “we went to college together,” he explains when they part. your previous happiness crumbles in an instant. the nasty part of you wonders if she knows fucking everybody you’re interested in, but you shut it down mercilessly. it's not hana’s fault she's so likable. it's your fault for not being more so, actually.

“i’m good,” she says with a light giggle. they catch up for a moment before she drops an atomic bomb. “you know, i’m actually with beomgyu now.” 

“damn, really? i thought that would never actually happen,” he replies, genuine shock falling across his sculpted features. your interest can’t help but be piqued at this.

“what makes you say that?” she asks rather defensively. jay can tell he messed up from her tone and he backtracks immediately. 

“o-oh nothing. i just never pegged you two as compatible, but congratulations! i know you’ve liked him for a long time.” ?... ??...???? what the hell? 

“what is he talking about?” you can’t help but ask confusedly. hana looks thoroughly reddened as she fumbles for an explanation.

“i-i liked beomie back in college. n-nothing major!” she stammers. you can do nothing but stare. she liked beomgyu and she never told you? well, you were half in love with the boy after three dates and you’re still half in love with him, actually, so it’s not particularly surprising that she fell for him, but the fact that she never mentioned it feels iffy at best. jay can sense the tension, and he cleverly excuses himself with:

“shit, my friends are here. i’ll text you soon?” he says, looking to you for confirmation. you manage to muster up a smile and a nod, but you’re still disturbed by this revelation.

“... are you mad?” hana asks tentatively. 

“n-no. of course not!” you say with conviction, but deep down, you know you’re uncomfortable. she probably knows it, too, but she doesn’t pry much further.

“i’m glad you’re not mad,” she sighs. “anyway, it’s not like you’re dating him now.” she pokes at the sore spot on your heart with ease. maybe if she were more sober, she’d see the hurt on your face, but as it is, she doesn’t register a thing.

so hana liked beomgyu back in college? why hadn’t she told you? well, you guess it doesn’t make a difference now. she’s with him. you’re not. what else is there to say, really? but in the back of your mind, gears start turning. you just don’t know it yet.

 -

hana has been a lot nicer to you than usual after that night at the bar. she’s always nice, but she seems hellbent on making sure your prospective date with jay goes well. you suppose it’s her way of making it up to you for withholding her secret crush on beomgyu from you. to be honest, there’s no real reason for her to do so, but you accept her kindness graciously. now, the night before your big date, she’s practically hounding you with questions.

“what are you gonna wear?” she asks over the phone. 

“mmm, i dunno yet,” you hum into the speaker. you really don’t know. jay invited you to a house party, which is not the most romantic place in the world, but hana convinced you that he’s just awkward and a group setting (with drinks, no less) would loosen him up. you realize that you want to impress him. you want him to think you’re the most beautiful girl in the room, but nothing you have in your closet quite fits the bill.

“ooh, i know! you can just borrow one of my dresses. what about the black one? the one you complimented last time we went out! i won’t be home tomorrow night, but i’ll leave the key under the mat, okay? so just come grab it when you’re free!” she sounds proud of herself for coming up with that. you don’t have the heart to tell her it’s a little too scandalous for you, so you grit your teeth and accept her peace offering.

“mmm, yeah. that sounds good. thank you, hana,” you reply.

“pay attention to meeee,” you hear a deep voice cut in from over the phone. beomgyu. you try not to think about the way your heart aches when you hear him (very loudly) plant a kiss on… some part of her body. you’re not exactly sure where it is, but you falter when you hear her reaction.

“beomie, ah, not there,” hana moans and you feel a pang in your chest. “hey, i’ve gotta go, okay?” you don’t have to imagine what they’re about to do and it hurts.

“okay,” you say with a bitter smile, but the call drops before you can even reply. 

-

it’s finally the night of the date and you’re anxious, to put it mildly. you don’t know how long you spent trying to get your hair and makeup right, but an ungodly amount of time has passed. you’re almost tempted to skip getting the dress from hana’s apartment, but you really don’t have anything else that suits the occasion, so you begrudgingly hail a cab over to her place. 

you enter her apartment and head toward her bedroom, where the pretty black dress is waiting for you. with a sigh, you strip out of your sweats and shimmy into the dress. you look in hana's bedroom mirror and you have to admit that you look pretty good. you feel a lot more confident going out with a guy as handsome as jay now. as you’re fixing up your hair one last time, you’re stunned to hear the apartment door opening. she’s home? weird, but welcome. you need a second pair of eyes on you.

“hey! how do i look?” you say with a smile as you exit her bedroom, but you’re not greeted with hana’s smiling face. instead, you’re met with beomgyu’s frown. 

“w-what are you doing here?” you ask, genuinely surprised. 

“this is my girlfriend’s apartment. what are you doing here?” you thought he had heard over the phone that you’d be here to pick up the dress tonight. but then, you supposed that he may have been a little preoccupied sucking the skin off of hana to really pay attention to much else. you’re so busy over analyzing this, you don’t even notice how intently beomgyu is staring at you now. even if you did, you’d probably misread it as ridicule rather than what it truly is. 

“nothing, i-i’m on my way out,” you reply simply. with that, you start trying to walk past him. before you can, though, he’s asking you questions.

"you're seriously going out with him? in that, too?” he asks, disgust apparent. at least, that’s what it sounds like to you. your eyes survey your own attire and you feel extremely small in this moment, all things considered. normally, you'd shut down and second guess yourself. maybe you do look a little ridiculous in this tiny dress and maybe going out with jay is a bad in idea. maybe he's just fucking with your head and maybe he'll toss you away just like beomgyu did. maybe, maybe, maybe. but then? maybe not. and even if he does, you don't want to hear any of that shit from beomgyu of all people. 

"oh, fuck you, beomgyu." 

he looks perfectly scandalized by your comment. you’ve never talked back to him before, and certainly not like this. his eyebrows raise and his jaw drops before he can finally choke out the words "e-excuse me?"

"i said fuck you. i really don't give a shit about what you have to say anymore." 

you're again trying to barrel past him but he steps in front of the door, scowl etched into his pretty features.

"what? are you mad at me now?" you say mockingly. "well, you don't get to be mad at me. move."

it is genuinely amazing to see beomgyu as he is now. he looks like a child who's floundering for a comeback. 

"w-why are you mad? i'm just looking out for you!" oh, you can't help but laugh in his face at that one. he winces when you do.

"my god, that's rich coming from you. what's the worst that could happen? we go on a couple of dates and then he ghosts me? can't say it hasn't happened before."

"th-that's different!" he sputters, face flushing beet red.

"different how?!" you counter. he’s such a fucking hypocrite. you're not the type to get so riled up, but his words have you seeing red. his next words, even more so.

"you... you don't even like me!"

"and why exactly would i like the man who ghosted me, again? you can kick rocks for all i care!" you try to steady your breathing. blowing up like this right before your first date with jay can't be good for your head. luckily, it seems like beomgyu is still fishing for words when you regain your composure. "whatever. i'm done. goodbye, beomgyu." you reach around him for the door handle, but he slams it shut. 

"what the fuck?!" you exclaim exasperatedly. 

"you don't understand," beomgyu says, voice trembling and eyes scarlet. "hana said you didn't like me." 

"hana? what does hana have to do with — oh." oh.

"she said you didn't like me and thought i was obnoxious. she told me she called and interrupted our date because you wanted her to.” 

“why didn’t you just ask, beomgyu? i liked you!” you exclaim. he ruined everything all because of a few words from someone else? 

“why would i ask when hana told me that you didn’t want anything to do with me?”

"so you believed hana instead of just opening your fucking mouth? what, does she wipe your ass and spoon feed you, too?

“watch your mouth,” beomgyu says lowly. 

“or what?” you taunt with a smirk. “you’ll be mad? is beomie bear gonna lose his temper?” you’re on your tiptoes now, face mere inches away from his. where you got the confidence to provoke the man who towers over you even on the worst of days, you have no idea, but the idea of seeing beomgyu squirm is lighting a fire in you you didn’t know existed. is he gonna hit you? scream in your face? you’re excited to see how he reacts. when his gaze flickers from your smiling eyes to your lips, you don’t even get half a second to question his odd look when his lips come crashing down onto yours. 

his big hands grip the back of your head, holding you in place as he punishes your lips with a force you’ve only ever dreamt about. his lips are chapped and you can taste a hint of his favorite lip balm, which he had smeared on just before his arrival. you’re too shocked to move, you’re too shocked to do anything besides gasp when he bites your bottom lip. he takes your open mouth as permission to shove his warm tongue into it. you want to say the kiss is full of fire, and it is, but there’s an overwhelming sense of gentleness, too. it’s hard to put into words, so instead of trying to, you let yourself melt into the feeling. he takes your acquiescence as a sign to go even further. at this point, he’s practically dragging you over to the couch. you’re surprised at how you don’t even attempt to resist when he pushes you down. you’re seated now and he licks his lips hungrily as he lifts your pathetic excuse for a dress off of your body and tosses it somewhere behind the couch. his eyes alight with something akin to raw anger when he takes note of the fact that you are, in fact, not wearing a bra.

“you were seriously gonna go out like that? what a whore,” he says menacingly. you’re now clad in nothing but your favorite pair of underwear. you would usually feel insecure in front of such an intense gaze, but beomgyu looks at you like he wants to devour every part of you. and he will, with time.

“i thought jay would like it,” you shrug. his eyes burn even brighter and he looks like he’s on the brink of snapping. god, fucking with him is so exhilarating. is this how he feels when he’s trying to get under your skin? maybe you do understand why he antagonizes you, actually. this shit feels amazing.

he kneels down before you and possessively kisses your neck until it's numb — pouring out hot kisses and sucking on the skin there like he’s staking his claim. it’s almost like he’s daring another man to touch you, and he doesn’t have to say anything because it’s like you already understand his intentions, and you revel in it. 

his lips travel down to your breasts and they almost ache in anticipation. cruelly, he avoids your pert nipples and opts to circle his tongue around them, sucking on the soft skin and leaving marks in his wake. one of his hands move down to your underwear and he stops his teasing when he feels how wet you are.

“j-jesus, is all this for me?” you’re too embarrassed to respond. he’s trying to keep his cool, but he’s taken aback by how soaked you are. he was already hard just from the kiss alone, but now he aches. he slides your underwear to the side and actually groans when he sees your slickness for himself. slowly, teasingly, he finds his way to your clit and you let out a soft gasp when he finally touches it. you’re unable to stifle a moan when he gingerly takes one of his long, calloused fingers and begins to push it into your cunt. 

“t-tight!” he hisses. “how am i gonna fit?” you’d roll your eyes in annoyance at his self-aggrandizing words if you could muster up anything other than the feeling of pure bliss as he slides another finger in. he’s kneeling between your legs, and you feel some sort of sick satisfaction as you watch the boy lick his lips before trailing opened-mouth kisses on your thighs as he inches closer and closer to your cunt.

you feel his cool breath against your core and you’re seconds away from begging him to continue, but he seems even more eager than you are as he quickly buries his face into your heat. his first lick is long and slow, but you can feel the vibrations from his moan and it reverberates through your legs all the way to your toes. as if he’s a man starved, he messily licks and sucks on your pussy while pumping his fingers in and out mercilessly. you have to hold onto his long hair, not because you want to hurt him, but because it’s the only thing keeping you sane. when he hooks his fingers, you can’t help but call out his name. 

“b-beomgyu!” his darkened eyes snap up to meet yours while his pace becomes even more punishing and, before you know it, you’re spasming around his fingers. he should stop there, but he continues with little kitten licks until you’re begging him to show you mercy. 

he reluctantly parts from your cunt and you can see evidence of your release dripping down his chin. his messy hair, his soaked face, his fucking everything looks like it’s been branded by you and you can’t help but gulp, heat pooling in your stomach again, far too soon after your intense orgasm. usually, a man would wipe his face and clean himself up, but he does nothing of the sort as he leans towards you and practically pleads with you to kiss him.

“so good, want you to taste it,” he says simply as he pulls you in for another filthy kiss. he looks possessed, almost, by your taste. by your scent. by you.

your cum mixed with the taste of beomgyu himself is like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. he wraps his tongue around yours, as if he’s selflessly just trying to share this new discovery.

he unbuckles his own pants like a madman, hastily yanking them down. so hypnotized, he doesn’t even think to take them off all the way, nevermind his shirt. his cock springs up and it’s thick and long, the angry veins juxtaposing from his perfect, doll-like face. he was right. you don’t know how he’ll fit in your tight pussy.

still, he ruts his bare cock against your throbbing cunt and you both moan when it accidentally catches against your entrance. 

“c-condom?” you ask breathily. 

“p-please, please just let me feel you. i can pull out,” he whines. who are you to say no to a man begging?

“...o-okay,” you begin to choke out, and almost before you can even finish, he’s pushing himself in. you both groan at the feeling. he meets resistance before he’s even halfway in and his eyes redden with a lust so strong it almost scares you. 

“s-so tight, so perfect for me,” he says before pulling out and harshly ramming himself back in, sheathing himself completely in you. your eyes begin to sting with pure pleasure. he sits for a moment, just enjoying the way your pussy sucks him in. nothing in your life has ever made you feel this heavenly. not that you’re going to heaven, especially after this, and certainly not if hana has anything to say about it. oh my god, hana.

“w-wait,” you interrupt before he can pull out again. “we can’t! hana—” 

“don’t give a fuck about hana. j-jus’ want you,” he slurs with that lisp that you love so much. and that’s when he really starts. ruthlessly, he sets his pace. ramming into you as the filthy sounds of skin against skin and slick against slick permeate the room. his head lulls back in sheer ecstasy and you’re crying out his name over and over, like a mantra. it’s the only thing chaining you to reality. that, and his viselike grip on your thighs. 

“so g-good, so warm. never h-had a pussy this good before,” he praises as he continues drilling into you. one of his hands snakes its way to your clit and you’re seeing stars. hot tears spring in your eyes and you’re literally crying as his cock pushes you further and further off the deep end. 

“so fucking good for me. you wouldn't even care if i came inside, would you, slut? walking around in that tiny dress, just begging to be fucked.” 

“n-no! i’m not begging f-for anything,” you manage to choke out.

“really? but you look pretty fucking desperate right now. should i stop?” he asks with a mean smile, slowing down the speed of his hips snapping into yours.

“please don’t! i-i’m sorry. please don’t stop!” you whimper. he wasn’t gonna stop, anyway, but watching tears pour out of your eyes at the mere thought of his cock not being inside of you brings him to another level of smugness.

“shh, it’s okay, baby. i won’t stop. i’ll give you exactly what you need.”

“b-beomie!” you cry. “not gonna last much longer!” 

“me neither, pretty girl. fuck, come with me, okay?” he hisses. 

“come inside?” you plead. he almost stills at this, but his brutal pace never stops despite it all. 

“fuck! i knew that good girl act was a sham. you want me to get you pregnant so everyone knows who you belong to?”

“yes! d-don’t care. just want you,” you whine, mirroring his words from earlier. that’s enough to make him lose himself. his resolve snaps and he’s painting the inside of your walls while you helplessly clench around him. it takes a minute to catch your breath and you can’t help but lock eyes with beomgyu as he stays buried in your warmth. his gaze is still lustful, that much you know, but there’s an unknown feeling teeming in his eyes, too.

gingerly, he pulls out and you both watch as his cum trickles out of you. his eyes are alight with fascination and you don’t doubt for a second that he wants to lap it all up and feed it right back to you, but he doesn’t. he simply grabs your cheeks and pulls you in for another heavy kiss.

“wanted to do this for so long,” he says after you part. 

“how long?” you can’t help but ask. 

“since i saw you sitting alone at the café,” he shrugs and smiles shyly. he’s wanted you since he first saw you, which is enough to make you grin, but the blissful smile is wiped off of your face when you remember beomgyu isn’t just some random guy who’s attracted to you. he’s hana’s boyfriend. 

you know now that she orchestrated the downfall of your relationship with beomgyu, but that doesn’t mean you don’t feel guilty as hell for fucking her boyfriend on her couch. oh my god, what have you done? you fucked your friend’s boyfriend in her own home. not only that, but you fucked raw and even let him come inside. you shiver when you recount his nasty words about getting you pregnant, and he really might’ve. you’re not on the pill or anything. oh god. 

“i-i need to get out of here,” you say frantically. you hurriedly push him off of you and wince when you feel his cum leaking out of your cunt. you stumble to the bedroom, legs still weak from what just transpired, and grab your sweats and snake them back on. 

“what are you doing?” beomgyu asks, confused and somewhat annoyed that you’ve effectively ruined the mood. 

“i’m getting the fuck out of here. this… this whole thing was a mistake,” you say, on the verge of tears. you don't even deserve to cry, honestly, but you want to, anyway.

“a-a mistake? why? wait, don’t go!” he says, stepping in front of you again. 

“beomgyu, are you fucking with me? you’re with hana! why wouldn’t this be a mistake? oh my god, and i-i’m not — i don’t take birth control. we really might’ve… fuck just move, please!” you plead. you think you might be on the verge of a panic attack, tears and snot streaming down your face. you just wish he would fucking move so you could get out of here and start fixing everything because the guilt you feel just by seeing his face is all-consuming. there’s no way you can face hana again after this. you’ll cut her out of your life, and when you’re courageous enough, you’ll tell her what you did to her. you’ll lose hana and all the rest of your friends once they hear about what kind of person you really are. and as for beomgyu, well, knowing hana, she’ll stay with him and you’ll be the homewrecker in this story. 

“hey, shh, it’s okay,” beomgyu coos softly, taking your tear-streaked face in his big, warm hands. “talk to me. what are you thinking?” “i… i ruined everything,” you begin with a sob. “i hurt hana. you hurt hana. a-and everybody’s going to be so fucking mad at me. god, she’s never going to forgive me.” 

“listen,” he says softly while rubbing the pads of his thumbs against the tears falling down your cheeks. “she lied to you, and she lied to me, too.”

“because she loves you, beomgyu. she only did it because she loves you so much,” you argue, tearing your face from his grasp, but he only locks his arms around your waist instead. 

“and what about me? what about how i feel?”

“what are you trying to say?” you sniffle.

“i’m saying i meant it when i said i don’t give a fuck about hana. i’m sorry, but i don’t. i never did,” he says as if he’s coaxing a child. you want to believe his words so fucking badly, but you’ve seen the way they’ve been attached at the hip these past few months and you can’t help but feel like he’s just a) full of shit and/or b) pussydrunk on you. he can sense your apprehension and wants to tear his own hair out in frustration. 

“can i be honest with you?” he asks.

you nod in response.

“i… i only started hanging out with her because i knew she was close to you. i don’t know if it’s because i wanted to get back at you or if i just wanted to see you more. maybe a bit of both, honestly. i-i know that’s wrong, but it’s true.” you’re at a loss for words. all you can ask is:

“why?” he chuckles at this. 

“because i like you, dummy,” he says sweetly while releasing one of the hands that grips your waist, using it to fix up your hair. he likes you? the same beomgyu who has effectively harassed you for the past few months… likes you? 

“you have a fucking hilarious way of showing it. i thought you hated me,” you retort. 

“i was just teasing,” he says softly. “i just wanted you to notice me and nothing i did ever seemed to bother you.”

“well, it did,” you scoff. 

“i’m sorry,” he says sheepishly. “i just like you a lot, okay? i’m sorry for being an asshole. and i’ll make it up to you, i promise.” you want to say okay, but the fact remains that he’s still very much hana’s boyfriend. regardless of his feelings, you still betrayed her and your friends aren’t going to be very understanding of your situation with him. the only chance you have of retaining your friendships now is to cut beomgyu off and beg on your knees for forgiveness. but you like him. you really, really like him. and the temptation to relent is even stronger as he begins to plant kisses on your face along with promises to dump her and, in his words, to “be good from now on”. when his innocent kisses turn lustful and begin to trail down your neck, what else can you do besides agree?

notes pt. 2: so...? i hope this was okay i really do LMFAOO. i have no idea how this will be received. if it's bad, i might delete it because i truly don't know what i'm doing. anyway, feedback is always appreciated! it gives me the confidence to branch out like this so i'd love to hear from y'all :)

permanent taglist*: @my313 @superbbananananana @lonelybutterflytae @cherrycolaberry @everythingvirgoes @beomnoullitheorem @sunny4cast

*minors and ageless blogs on my permanent taglist were not added for obvious reasons. i made the taglist before i decided to make supermodel smut, so if you would like to be removed from this or any future smut works, please message me!

[willowsnook]

Let me in

Hi! Love your idea for a prompt list. Can I order: A turkey swiss on wheat bread, maybe mike’s way if you feel like it’s fitting for the sandwich?

Joe burrow x bsf!reader

Please don’t leave

—-----------------------------------------

Fall in Cincinnati was something that you loved. The trees changed colors, you could start leaving your windows open, and, of course, Bengals football. Now, you’d never claim that you were a die-hard fan, that was still reserved for your beloved Green Bay Packers, but after 5 years in the city, they were a solid 2nd favorite. Plus, being good friends with the starting quarterback meant you had to root for them. 

You met Joe at a charity event a year after you moved to Ohio. Working for a Cincinnati-specific lifestyle magazine, your recommendations and reviews had made you quite well known in the city. Your strategy was always finding small, hidden gem places, usually family-owned, to review and elevate. This fulfilled your need to make a difference and also get paid to eat food. 

While your job was so public and in the spotlight, you were pretty introverted, which surprised a lot of people. You didn’t necessarily enjoy being the center of attention, focusing more on making those around you shine. This meant that while you were appreciative of being recognized by the community, you hated going to big events; you’d much rather just be writing about them. 

So when the introverted star of Cincinnati joined you in the shadows of an event, the two of you hit it off. Knowing who you were, his PR team had noticed and pitched a content series involving Joe. You spent a whole day with him, going to places he recommended and giving instant reviews. Initially, you were worried about it being awkward because you didn’t know him well, but you both had a blast. Joe was easy to talk to, and he liked that you treated him like anyone else. 

After that, he’d invited you to hang out with his friends several times, and Ja’marr really liked you, insisting that you be added to the friend group. Since then, you’d spent the last couple of years being forced to go to every home Bengals game, but you could also easily force one of them to help you with some kind of content for work. A mutually beneficial friendship you thought. 

Midway through the week, you were back at your apartment, taking pictures of some cookies someone sent you to be considered for an upcoming article you were writing. You snapped the perfect picture just as your phone rang, and you looked over to see it was Joe calling. 

“What’s up?” You said, putting the phone on speaker. 

“I’m bored. Can I come hang?” He asked. 

“Yeah, I’m doing some work, but I’ll be done soon.”

“Okay, I’m on my way.” 

You were used to Joe calling you randomly to hang out, especially when the season was going poorly. One thing you learned in your years of friendship with him was that he didn’t like to be alone, mostly so he didn’t spiral thinking about everything. You were happy to be a friend he could lean on. 

15 minutes later, you heard your front door open and smiled as Joe wandered into the kitchen. He gave you a small squeeze from behind as you leaned over your laptop. 

“Are you doing anything with these?” He asked, and you looked over at the cookies. 

“No, I just got done. Have at it,” you replied, amused as he shoveled one into his mouth. 

“These are pretty good,” he said, swallowing. “But I’ve had better.”

“Hmm,” you thought. “What don’t you like about them?”

“Too grainy,” he said, and you agreed, unable to think of what you were feeling. 

“That’s a good point; I’m using that,” you said, typing it down in your notes. 

“Watch out, I’m going to steal your job,” he joked, and you smirked. 

“Does that mean I get yours?”

“You’d probably do a better job than me right now,” he said, and you frowned, shutting your laptop. 

“You are still a superstar, even when you lose,” you told him earnestly, getting a small smile from him. 

“I think I need you with a headset on to tell me that during the games,” he said, and you laughed. 

“Yeah yeah,” you replied, blushing. “Want to take a walk or something? I need to get out of the house.” 

“Yeah, let’s go.”

The two of you walked down the street and ventured towards the water, chatting about upcoming events and his family coming to visit. You started to get chilly and held your arms briefly before Joe noticed. He pulled his hoodie off with one hand and handed it to you, not even stopping what he was saying. You pulled it on, inhaled the lingering cologne, and sighed. 

“Will you come to dinner with us tomorrow night?” he asked, jolting you back to reality.

“With your parents?” you asked, and he nodded. “Would that not be a little weird?”

“Why would it be weird?” 

“I don't know. I just wouldn’t want them to think we were dating or anything,” you said, confused. Joe frowned at that, but you didn’t have time to analyze it. 

“Ja’marr is coming too,” he said. “You are both my best friends, so I’d like you to meet them.” 

“Okay, if it’s important to you,” you agreed, giving in. Dinner with Joe’s parents. Huh. Sometimes you really didn’t understand why he chose you as a best friend when many people were fighting over it. If only people knew how clingy Mr. Cool was. 

—---------------------------------------------------

Ja’Marr picked you up from your place the next night and the two of you headed to dinner. 

“You look nice,” he commented, and you smiled. You and Ja’Marr had a flirty relationship, but nothing had ever come of it. One time, when you were both very drunk in the offseason, you had made out but it didn’t last long with him backing out, saying that Joe was going to kill him. You had just assumed that Joe didn’t want anyone in the friend group dating in case it got messy, which was understandable. With Ja’marr, you were mostly just attracted to him vs. wanting something more. 

“I still feel weird about this whole thing,” you admitted to him and he gave you a lazy smirk. 

“Please, they’ll love you,” he assured you. 

“That’s not what I’m worried about; I’m amazing,” you said, causing him to laugh. “I just think it’s weird and intimate. Like if my parents were in town, yeah, maybe I wouldn’t mind them meeting you guys at the game or to celebrate in a group after. But I wouldn’t invite you for a small dinner.” 

Ja’Marr gave you a look you couldn’t decipher before laughing to himself. 

“I’ll try not to take offense to that,” he said and you rolled your eyes. 

The restaurant was a nicer one that you had been to before for work. Joe’s parents stood up as you approached the table and warmly greeted you. His mom pulled you into a tight hug, laughing about how excited she was to meet you finally. You shot Ja’Marr a look and found him trying not to laugh. You could tell Joe was embarrassed, which made the situation a little amusing. 

Sitting down beside him, he gave you an easy smile while handing you the drink menu. Joe’s dad jumped into conversation with Ja’Marr about the season while Robin asked you a ton of questions about your job and basically your whole life. You ended up loving his parents; they were the sweetest people. While you might have missed the way that Joe was looking at you the whole dinner, his parents definitely did not. 

“It was so good to meet you y/n,” Robin gushed. “I’m sure we’ll see much more of you in the future.” 

You smiled, confused, while Ja’Marr couldn’t hold back his laugh. Joe’s face turned bright red and his dad chuckled. 

—------------------------------------------------

If you had thought the season was going poorly before it was a million times worse now. It seemed like each week, your two friends were putting up superstar numbers but still losing. After watching them lose by just a point to the Ravens, you clicked the TV off and sighed. Reaching for your phone you texted him a white heart and watched him read it and not reply. He usually would, even after a loss, but this one was tough so you didn’t pay much mind to it. 

As the week went on, you started to feel Joe’s tension about the team bleed into your friendship. He wasn’t answering your calls and had replied to any text you had sent him with just one word. What had really pissed you off though, was that he was supposed to shoot a Thanksgiving promo with you about places that provided free food for those who needed it and he didn’t show. 

“I get that you’re having a tough time right now and while I can live with you being a bad friend I can’t live with you 1. making me look bad professionally and 2. disappointing people making a difference. So give me a call when you figure your shit out,” you ranted to his voicemail. 

You were supposed to fly out for the game this weekend but weren’t sure if you still should. Calling Ja’Marr, you complained about Joe being a dick and that you didn’t know what to do. He assured you that you should still come and that Joe was just hurting because of the season. The best thing you could do was be there for him, even in the shadows. 

The game started out horribly with it being 24-6 leading into halftime. But a different team came out in the third quarter, and you went crazy as the Bengals got ahead. But like the week before, no matter what Joe did, even throwing for over 350 yards, they still lost in the end. You lingered by the locker room after the game and smiled sadly as you saw Ja’Marr first. He wrapped you in a hug, and he was happy to have you there. Joe on the other hand, did not look happy to see you. 

“What are you doing here?” he said coldly, and both you and Ja’Marr flinched. His teammate gave him a weird look, but Joe was just staring at you blankly. 

“I’ve had these tickets since before the season, you know that,” you replied. 

“I didn’t want you to come,” he said and you tried to ignore the hurt you felt. “Did you not get the hint from me ignoring you all week?” 

“Oh, so is that why you stood up the charity?” You bit back. “So that I would ‘get the hint’?”

Joe didn’t say anything, clenching his jaw and Ja’Marr tried to step in. 

“I wanted her to come man,” he said and Joe snapped his head towards his friend. 

“Well just fuck her then and get over it,” he replied and your jaw dropped. Ja”Marr shoved him backward, yelling at him before security intervened. You recovered from your shock and turned around, abruptly leaving the stadium. You called an Uber to take you back to the hotel, and the massive traffic gave you a lot of time to process what had just happened. 

You could understand him being upset over the game, especially since it was so fresh in his mind. But it’s not like you went up to him; he came up to you. This man was supposed to be your best friend, and he basically just called you a whore to your face. This shit was ridiculous. 

30 minutes later, you were walking into the hotel. Ja’Marr had tried calling, but you declined. You called the airline you were flying with to see if there was any chance of flying out early, and you were lucky to snag a seat on the last flight out. You quickly packed up your stuff after changing into a comfier outfit and headed down to the lobby to check out and call a car. 

Turning to head out the door you stopped as you saw Joe walking in, his eyes trained on you. He looked miserable and he made his way towards you slowly. 

“Y/n..” he started, his eyes filling up with tears, but you stopped him from saying anything else. 

“I’m leaving,” you said emotionlessly. He tried to reach out to you, but you flinched back and pain flashed across his face. 

“I need to talk to you y/n,” he begged. “Please don’t leave.” 

“Why would I stay?” You asked softly. “Goodbye, Joe.” 

You left him standing there wondering why it felt like your own heart was breaking into two. 

—-----------------------------------------------

It had been two weeks since then, and you had successfully avoided Joe at all costs. He blew up your phone of course but you have yet to answer. Luckily he hadn’t tried coming to your apartment because he knew you well enough to know that it’d piss you off. 

You were on your way to hang out with Ja’Marr for a group movie night which he promised you that Joe would not be at. You don’t know why you even believed him; Joe’s car was parked in the front driveway and you almost reversed until you saw Ja’Marr waving his arms at you. Stepping out, you crossed your arms, waiting for him. 

“I knew you wouldn’t come if you knew he was here,” he started and you scoffed. 

“You were right.”

“I am miserable because he is y/n,” he pleaded. “I’m sorry but I will be selfish for a minute. He is being a dick at practice to everyone and isn’t throwing me good balls. He’s moody, won’t say a word to me, and won’t leave his house unless necessary. So please let him make it up to you. You two belong together.”

“He called me a whore Ja’Marr!” You exclaimed frustrated and gave you a sympathetic look. 

“I know he did, and that was terrible. I tried to fight him on your behalf,” he said, earning a small smile from you. “God I shouldn’t tell you this but he’s so in love with you it’s insane. He’s hurting and you’re hurting. Please just talk to him.”

“He’s not in love with me,” you said and he just rolled his eyes. 

“Believe what you want but get in there,” he said steering you towards the door. 

The good thing was that there were a few other people here from your friend group, so technically, you didn’t even have to talk to him. He was the first person you saw when you walked in so clearly, this was a coordinated effort between the two friends. 

Joe did look sad, and you wanted to be happy about it, but you couldn’t find it in yourself. He was dressed down in grey sweats and a black T-shirt, his hair looking like he had run his hands through it over and over. His eyes were puffy, and that made your heart clench. 

“Are we ready to start?” One of your other friends called from the living room and you started to walk towards the room but Joe gently grabbed you, pulling you closer to him and letting Ja’Marr pass. 

“Can we talk?” He mumbled quietly to you and you nodded, letting him pull you into the study. You stood with your arms crossed as you looked at him, waiting. 

“I’m sorry y/n. I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “I was hurting so bad and I took it out on you. The one person who has always been there for me.” 

“Sorry isn’t going to cut it Joe,” you said, frustrated. “It’s not like it was just the comment; it was the week leading up to it, missing the event. I can’t be there for you when you don’t let me in.”

You had imagined how this conversation would go multiple times over the past few weeks. You expected an apology and another apology, but you did not expect Joe Burrow to start sobbing in front of you. 

He sunk against the wall and had his head in his hands while he was crying. Your shock wore off, and you knelt down in front of him, moving in between his legs. He looked up and your heart broke at his tear-stained face. 

“What is going on, Joe?” You asked softly, wiping some of his tears with your thumb. 

“I just don’t know what to do,” he whispered. “Everything is going wrong, and I don’t feel like I’m in control. I do everything I can, and it’s still not enough.” 

“Oh Joey,” you murmured, pulling his head into your shoulders. He held on to you tightly as he cried and you ran your hand through his hair gently. 

“I’m sorry,” he rasped. “I’m sorry I hurt you; I hated myself the second I said it.” 

“I forgive you Joe,” you told him, looking into his teary eyes. 

“I don’t deserve you; I’m not good enough for you,” he said. “I want to be enough for you.”

You cupped his face gently, making him look at you. Your own eyes started to water at the vulnerability he was showing.

"Joe, you’ve always been enough for me," you whispered. "You don’t have to prove anything. Not to me, not to anyone. I’m here for you, not for what you do or don’t achieve."

His brows furrowed, and he shook his head slightly, his hands moving to hold yours. "You don’t understand, y/n. I don’t just want to be your best friend—I want to be everything to you. And I’ve been so afraid of ruining our relationship that I pushed you away instead."

Your breath caught in your throat. "Joe..."

"I love you," he said, his voice breaking, but his gaze held steady. "I’ve been in love with you for so long, and I didn’t know how to tell you. But pushing you away hurt worse than anything I’ve ever felt on the field. I can’t lose you."

For a moment, the weight of his words left you speechless. You searched his face, finding nothing but raw sincerity. Your heart ached, but in the best way, as if it were piecing itself together after being fractured.

"I love you too, Joe," you admitted to him and yourself, a soft smile breaking through the tears on your face. "But you have to let me in. No more shutting me out, no matter how hard things get. We figure it out together, okay?"

His hands tightened around yours, and he nodded, relief washing over his features. "Together. I promise."

You leaned forward, gently kissing his forehead before resting your own against it. The two of you walked out of the study and into the living room, where everyone else was already engrossed in the movie. Ja’Marr looked between the two of you and at your connected hands and gave you a wide smirk. Joe moved to the big armchair and pulled you down with him, and you snuggled into his lap. His arms wrapped around you, and you finally felt content. 

[fairuzfan]

Sorry one more thing I wasn't going to talk about but if you had asked me about the binational state/land thing maybe... in 2016, I might have given a somewhat positive answer but I think that since then, Israeli society has become exponentially more racist and anti-Palestinian. Since then we had the Abraham Accords, Sheikh Jarrah, Massafir Yatta, the highest child martyr count in years, and now finally a full blown genocide. Many Palestinians who previously advocated for equality in a single state look at all this, especially in recent months and think "how can I live side by side with these people?"

The vast majority of Israeli society is not against war for the sake of the Palestinians, they're against war for their own safety. They say as much. Hell, look at standing together. The founder guy says "our security is tied in with the Palestinians'". So if it wasn't tied with the Palestinians', you wouldn't care? And I get sometimes you need to introduce people to ideas gently, but their entire organization language emphasizes "shared pain" when there is an oppressor/oppressed dynamic they aren't even hinting at. How can anyone achieve safety if you won't even admit you have power over your Palestinian org members?

Even Brothers in Arms claims to want to "strengthen democracy" but they completely ignore Palestinians have never experienced democracy in "Israel". So what's the point strengthening your own standing when the most disadvantaged still are at rock bottom?? Plus your whole group represents the IOF reservists/members, you have no intention of helping Palestinians when you are the primary oppressors. And this is not an insignificant group in israel!

Not many Israelis are willing to put themselves on the line to protect or even advocate for Palestinians. I mean 7+ months into a genocide and what did israeli society do other than protest *netanyahu*? Hold up flour bags during the flour massacre??? The people serving in the idf are your friends and family and community. Tel Aviv is an hour away from Gaza. Surely you can do *something* physical!! They had people at their Gaza borders starving Palestinians on purpose and people just... watched it happen. Not to mention the IOF, which many Israelis are a part of, participates in the genocide and has been lauded for their "heroism". I look at that and I think "how can I expect you to seriously consider my rights as a person? How do I know you won't miss your old status and reclaim it?"

We've seen Israelis *celebrate* and *ridicule* our martyrs and people. So like where us the good faith in all this? Where can we work with some of these people and think "Yeah I believe they'll respect my inherent dignity as a person"?

Which binationalism relies on this. You need to have good faith between communities for this to actually happen. But when one community won't even acknowledge it's status as an oppressor at the height of oppression? Then what?

Israel as a country has never faced any retribution for its actions for 75 years. No one is holding them accountable. The country teaches propaganda in its schools about the Nakba. There is not serious consideration for Palestinian rights in Israeli society. Why would they suddenly decide to participate in a project that puts Palestinians as equal to Israelis when they learned all their lives that Palestinians are ruthless, unreasonable people who can't be reasoned with, and Israelis are logical, poor victims who are actually the ones who need protection from the Palestinians!

It just is mind boggling because I see people constantly complain about the way they hear things from Palestinians these days like "all Israelis need to leave". And they go on to say "why would you be so hateful/why would you say that" and don't think for a minute they're experiencing a televised genocide of their people (which they could have ended up in their shoes! People forget that Gaza has multiple refugee camps! Any one of us could have lived there!) And conversely are looking to Israeli society for them to do anything and they see nothing. At least think for a moment why they would say these things given the context of the situation. There's a genocide going on! And you're worried about what the people who are experiencing their people's genocide are saying because you're worried for the society conducting said genocide?? Let's deal with the matter at hand first!!!!!!

[s6lars]

dress.

a harmless prank leaves jamal acting unexpectedly and you're determind to find out why — even if it forces you to get dangerously close. (wc: 7.5k)

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. jm42 x reader, ft. mathys tel

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄. smut — mdni! with a good chunk of plot, jealous brother’s bsf jamal.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. cursing, drinking, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering + more

𝐀/𝐍. requested here, thank you for waiting patiently anon !! this is also my first time writing in months, i'm so terribly sorry that i'm rusty and it might not be my greatest work. but i hope you enjoy ! (also this is not proofread lol)

“Fuck!” you groan, examining the plastic bag in your hands.

“What? What’s wrong?” You chew on on your bottom lip, setting the bag on your thighs where you kneeled on the floor. You pick up your phone, flipping the camera so your friend could see on Facetime.

“They sent me the wrong one.”

Nothing destresses you quite as much as online shopping, and with your finals finished a few days ago, you’d gone crazy on the internet — fitting as much as your cart would allow it. The stack of boxes in your room began to pile as the orders came in one by one, and once they all did, you treated yourself to your own version of Christmas.

“Which one did you get originally?” your friend, Andrea, asks. You’ve been giving her an unboxing of everything you’d bought for yourself, opening packages on your bedroom floor with your speaker blasting Drake in the back.

“I ordered this in green, they gave it to me in black.” 

“Oh. Well, at least it’s the same dress right?” Andrea takes a bite out of the donut she’s eating. “I still think it looks nice.” “Yeah, me too. But I already have, like, 3 other black dresses,” you sigh.

“I think you should still try it on.” “You think?” “Yeah, why not? It’s just in a different color anyway.” Andrea’s right. You’re not really in the mood to go through the hassle of online returns and back-and-forth conversations with the seller. 

You leave your phone on your bedroom floor to get changed off-camera, standing in front of your mirror. The dress feels promising as you pull it out of the bag — it’s strapless, jet black in color with a few cutouts on the side joined by metal rings, exposing your sides. It feels smooth as you slide it on, the stretchy material hugging your curves and the hem stopping on your mid thighs.

“So…” You pick up your phone, showing the dress off to Andrea. “How does it look?”

Andrea gasps in awe, making you giggle at her reaction. “Oh my god, I think I’m liking this one the most so far,” she raves, and you look to the pile of the other dresses you’d bought on your floor.

You adjust the dress, smoothing it out, pulling the hem lower. The dress is gorgeous, hugging you in all the right places. You check yourself out in the mirror, feeling more confident the longer you have it on.

“This is so nice, actually. Who even cares about the color anymore, I’m obsessed,” you gush.

“Mhm. And you can wear it with that purse you bought, and with the gold jewelry as well,” Andrea suggests, and you hum in agreement. As she’s talking, you reach for your water bottle on your nightstand, disappointed when you realize it’s empty. “Hey, I’m gonna fill up my water, give me a sec,” you state, muting yourself and tossing your phone on your bed.

You waltz in the kitchen, bringing your speaker with you, taking advantage of the fact that you’re home alone. You incoherently hum along to SZA, waiting for your bottle to be filled — and a loud noise erupts from behind where you stood.

“BOO!” 

You shriek, body jolting forward, causing some of the water to spill on your dress and your speaker to almost fall loose from your grip.

“What the fu— Oh my god, J.” You’re met with familiar brown eyes as you turned around, seeing Jamal with his hands flat on the kitchen island where he’d slammed them. He giggles at your annoyance. 

To most, Jamal is Bayern’s starboy, a young player dazzling in the world of football. To you, he’s your brother’s best friend, and someone who shows up unannounced to your house a lot. Your older brother Noah works in the industry as an agent, and the two of them met many years ago as teenagers. Now, they’re close as ever — so close, that Noah trusts him enough to give him a spare keycard to your shared apartment.

You met Jamal not long after they hit it off, and you can safely say you’ve also become friends with him now.

Just friends. That’s all you’ll ever be.

Like Noah has stressed multiple times before.

You grab a towel, dabbing the wet spot on your dress. “What do you want, J?”

“Is Noah home?” “No. He went to the gym,” you respond, groaning, making sure your dissatisfaction is heard loud and clear. Once you do, you turn off the obnoxiously loud speaker that prevented you from hearing his entrance. 

“Without me?”

“Yeah, he needed the time alone, clearly,” you snap back, circling around the kitchen island to face him. As you do, Jamal’s eyes trail down your body, your dress now revealed, his face twisting in a mix of confusion and awe. 

“Bit early for a night out, no?” He says, clearly referencing to your dress. He’d be right, it’s only the early evening.

You look down at your dress before meeting his eyes again, seeing him shift uncomfortably. “Who said this was for a night out?”

He cocks his head to the side. “It’s not?”

The devil on your shoulder is telling you to get back at him for almost ruining your dress and breaking your speaker. If he can show up unannounced, why can’t you lie and pull a few strings? “No… it’s for a date.”

You lie straight through your teeth, making up a story as you go. Jamal’s jaw falls slack, like he’s about to say something, but then it closes before he does.

“A… date?” He heard you the first time. He just wants to know if you’re being serious.

And you keep pretending that you are. “Yeah, a date. Why’s that so shocking?” You fold your arms, leaning against the kitchen island.

Jamal pauses. “With who?” While you’re biting the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from laughing, he’s having none of it. His eyebrows are furrowed, his jaw tense as he questions you.

“With this guy from uni. He’s just so sweet,” you sigh dreamily for dramatic effect, dragging the gimmick as long as you could. “We’ve been talking for a while and now he wants to get serious.” “Serious?” 

“...Yeah. I really think we could be a thing.” Your face falters at Jamal’s deadpan response. You’re only joking with him, but even if you weren’t, why is the mention of a date getting him like this?

You succesfully pulled his strings— but you don’t know if you should be happy or not. Jamal looks at you, almost in offense, and you can practically see the steam coming off of his ears. You’ve known him for a while, and yet this is the first you’ve seen of him like this.

“Tell Noah I’m not hanging out today.” Jamal storms out the kitchen, your mouth falling agape at his reaction. You trail behind him, worried that you took it too far.

“What? No, Jamal wait—” He doesn’t spare a single glance as he marches out the door, slamming it in your face, sending the hinges rattling. You’re frozen in your spot, unable to move or even process what just happened for a few moments before you’re dragging yourself back to your room, still slightly shaken.

You grab your phone and unmute yourself, still seeing Andrea on the line.

“Hey.” 

“Hey, what took you so long?” She notices the startled look in your eyes, sitting up in her bed.

“Sorry. Jamal … came over earlier. It was weird,” you say, slumping against your headboard.

“Weird? Isn’t he your friend? Or a friend of your brother?”

“Yeah, but… well, I—” you exhale, taking the time to string your words properly. “I was joking around, but then he got really upset and stormed out,” you explain.

“What the hell?” “I know. I’ve never seen him that pissed off. Not because of me at least.”

“That’s so weird. All over a joke?” “Yeah.” “What a prick,” Andrea sneers.

“No, don’t say that.” You’re not sure why, but you don’t really want to tell Andrea that the joke in question involved you lying about going on a date. “Hey, I gotta go. Bye.” 

You abruptly end the call carelessly tossing your phone aside. Now that you’re alone, you stare at the ceiling, finally having the time to process the interaction. The mood has shifted now. An inkling creeps into your thoughts as to why Jamal got so defensive, but you shrug it off, terrified of its consequences, terrified it would manifest.

“It’s probably nothing,” you mumble to yourself. But is it? You’re tossing and turning in bed because something is telling you that it’s not just nothing, and you have to find out for yourself.

You have to talk to Jamal.

“You’re up early.”

Stopping in your tracks, you turn around to see Noah splayed on the living room couch, working on his laptop.

You take a sip from your mug, setting it down on the coffee table before replying. “And you’re home for once.”

Noah gets exceptionally busy during the transfer window. You’ve been getting used to spending weeks home alone, or only catching him in the early mornings or coming in late at night, but almost never when the sun was out. Part of you thinks it’s not just work that’s been holding up, though.

“You know how busy I get in January,” Noah says. He squints as he watches you sit adjacent to him, putting on your socks and shoes. “And where are you headed?”

You pause. “Just going on a walk.”

Noah doesn’t need to know that the walk in question is en route to Jamal’s house.

Last night, you went to bed uneasy, hoping you could sleep it off. You woke up this morning and nothing had changed, and that’s when you decided you had to talk to Jamal immediately or you’d explode by midday. Noah being home wasn’t part of your plans.

He’s always been a little protective, as all older brothers are to their sisters. You vividly recall when you first met Jamal at one of his infamous house parties— alone in the kitchen, getting drinks for your friends when he strolled in, starting a conversation. It was an instant connection, with you finding yourself taking your sweet time just to keep talking to him.

Of course, Noah barged in at one point, throwing his arm around you and escorting you out of the kitchen himself, not before interrogating you on your conversation with Jamal.

Although he’s loosened up since, you know Noah would start getting skeptical if you told him you were headed to Jamal’s place first thing in the morning. But what Noah doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

“Right, bye.” Just as you stand up to leave, Noah interrupts.

“Wait! Can you get some sandwiches from the café when you come back? Thanks!” 

“As long as you pay me back!” you chime, already halfway out the door.

The walk to Jamal’s place is a rare but not unfamiliar one. You live not too far away, and there have been countless times where you had to pick Noah up after a night out, so you knew the way well. You could’ve taken your car, but you decided you need the extra time for yourself, deciding on a walk.

You’re not really sure what you’re getting out of this. Your mind fluctuates between feeling like this is the right thing to do and the urge to turn back and buy those sandwiches Noah was talking about earlier.

But you never do, and now you’re standing in front of his doorway.

Unlike with your house, Jamal’s never given you a spare set of keys so you can waltz into his at any given moment. You take a deep breath before ringing the doorbell, your heart beating out of your chest as you do.

Silence. You ring the doorbell a few more times, hearing the soft pattering of footsteps behind the door. 

You fix your hair and adjust your clothes, awaiting Jamal’s arrival. 

Instead, you’re met with the sight of a woman when the door swings open.

A half-naked woman.

She looks slightly older than you, dressed in only a sports bra and sweats, her hair tussled like she just woke up. You’re both looking at each other up and down, confused. This is the first you two have seen of each other.

“Can I help you?” She’s the first to break the silence. You reluctantly meet her gaze. There’s a weird territorial atmosphere lingering between you two, like the person standing before you shouldn’t be here.

“Uh, I’m looking for Jamal,” you say, your voice coming out a lot shakier than you anticipated. A pit continues to grow in your stomach. You probably should have turned back home when you had the chance.

“Oh, he’s in the shower.”

Your heart drops. You’re not an idiot, and you’re no child— you can put two and two together. Neither is Jamal, and you know he probably hooks up with someone whenever he gets the chance. But why does that bother you so much? And why are you only feeling this way now?

You’re lost in your thoughts, and the woman waves a hand in front of your face, trying to pull you back to reality.. “Did you need anything? He’ll probably take a while.”

You shake your head, already getting ready to take off. “Just tell him I was joking yesterday.”

“Huh?” Turning around on your heels, you leave the woman hanging, walking away from the door. Whatever you were expecting to happen when you got to Jamal’s place, it surely isn’t this.

You glare straight ahead, not caring for whoever you bumped into. All you knew was just in that moment, you had to get as far away as possible from Jamal’s house. And so you did, marching as far as your legs would take you, until beads of sweat ran down your temples and your breathing turned heavy.

Maybe Noah was right in trying to put some distance between you two.

Meanwhile, Jamal dries himself off with a towel as he leaves his bathroom. He walks into the kitchen to grab some breakfast, passing by his front door, seeing the girl he picked up last night standing by.

She hears his footsteps as he comes down the stairs, turning to face him. “Morning, baby,” she coos, putting on the best lovey-dovey voice she could muster.

Jamal winces at the remark. “I’ll get you a taxi after you shower,” he replies, walking right past her and into the kitchen. The girl rolls her eyes, groaning silently. She doesn’t know why she keeps trying to get closer to him when all they’re doing this for is sex.

“Some girl came over while you were in the shower, by the way,” she brazenly states, hoping to get his attention for once. 

“Who?” “Like I know. She just came by and asked if you were here, and then told me to tell you that she was just joking yesterday?”

It works. Jamal stops dead in his tracks. “And what did she look like?” The girl starts describing how you looked from the short appearance you made earlier. The more she speaks, she sees the gears turning in Jamal’s head as he puts two and two together, ultimately realizing that you had gone all the way to his house just to talk to him.

He looks at the girl before him. She came all the way to his house, probably to apologize, just to be met with one of his random hookups who he barely even spoke to outside his bedroom.

Jamal’s eyes widen in realization at how horribly he’d fucked up, abandoning his breakfast and rushing back up the stairs.

“Where are you going? Who is she?” The girl asks, waving her hand to get his attention, though all her calls are ignored as he shoves his way into his room to go looking for his phone, unplugging it from where it was charging on his nightstand.

His fingers rapidly dart across the screen as he types out a message, a desperate attempt at reaching you before it was too late.

[07:42] jamal: did you come over earlier? [07:43] jamal: i promise it’s not what it looks like [07:43] jamal: we can talk if you want to [07:43] jamal: just the two of us

Your phone buzzes four seperate times as you stand in line at the café down the street from your apartment building. Sometime during your walk, Noah had transferred some money into your account for both breakfast and you figured you needed the distraction.

It didn’t last long as you pulled your phone from your pocket, seeing the notifications from Jamal poured in. You shut your eyes, collecting your emotions before you shoved it back in, fixing your hair in frustration.

Out of sight, out of mind. Jamal got his chance when you were at his doorstep, willing, and he you weren’t about to give him a second. The fact that he thinks you would sets something off in you.

He watches as his texts stay on delivered. Deep down, he knows you read them through your lockscreen, and now you were choosing to deliberately ignore him. He stares at the screen in defeat, before another text comes in.

[08:01] noah: you’re coming over tomorrow night yeah?

The party. Noah had invited him and some other players to hang out before the season started, a tradition that’s persisted in the friend group for years. It’s hosted at his place this time around, a golden oppportunity.

Jamal has to talk to you.

For the first time in his life, Jamal regrets going to a party.

He’s used to having a blast, used to being the man in any room he walks into, instantly greeted by faces both familiar and unfamiliar, desperate to show him around— desperate to be seen with him.

Now, he throws his head back agains the wall of Noah’s living room, drink in hand, asking himself why he even left the house today.

Jamal arrived extra early to his friend’s place, hoping to catch you in a moment alone before it got busy. To his dismay, Noah informed him that you’d been out since the morning. Then he had to help him clean. A total nightmare.

He’s not so sure if you knew he was coming today, or just so happened to not be at home. Whatever the reasoning, he’d rather not have turned up altogether had you not been here.

While he’s drinking away his sorrows, you’re pushing him out of your mind as you spent the day with your friends. Shopping, going to the spa, more shopping, bar hopping— it was a perfect day.

Your smile quickly faded when you came home and was greeted with a crowd of men in your living room.

“Hey! You’re home,” Noah greets, pulling you into a hug. He gives you a look of guilt as he sees your eyes squint in confusion, knowing he didn’t tell you he was inviting people over.

“I know, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. But I figured you’d be out the whole day!” he reasons. 

“You’re so fucking annoying, I hope you know that,” you sneer, and Noah can’t fight back. You scan the crowd, seeing a few familiar faces. If it wasn’t for them, you would have cussed him out right then and there.

He knows you’re tired from going out all day, he knows you just want to rest. “Okay, listen, this isn’t anything crazy, we’re just gonna drink and talk, no loud music or inviting more people. It’s just my friends.”

Friends. You scan the crowd once more. If Noah ever mentions anything about friends, one person is almost always involved.

Jamal. You lock eyes with him, he’s been staring at you from across the room since you walked in the door. There’s a mix of anger, frustration and yearning brewing in your chest. You want to shove him down a flight of stairs. You also want to run into his arms. It’s complicated.

Noah shoves a can of beer in your hands, and you finally look away from Jamal. “Here, take this. Loosen up,” he says before leaving. You sip away your unwanted emotions and wince like it stings going down. 

Knowing Jamal is here and with the intention of talking to you sparks an idea in your brain, washing a boost of confidence over your body. He can’t look away from you and you know it, and you had to take this chance in sending him a message.

Your message comes in the form of a youngster sitting on the living room couch.

“Mathys!” You approach him, arms wide to pull him in for a hug that seems a little too friendly in Jamal’s eyes. He grips his glass harder.

“Hey! When did you come in?” he asks, and you sit next to him, grazing your thigh against his. You take a big swig from the can, needing the extra tenacity.

“Not too long ago.” You start talking to Mathys about your day, striking up a normal conversation. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch glimpses of Jamal glancing at you from time to time. It’s not enough. You want him to feel the way you did when you showed up on his doorstep the other day.

Mathys was happily recounting his encounter with some rapper he’d crossed paths with when you put your hand on his leg, rubbing his thigh up and down. You leaned in to his ear, covering your mouth to avoid Jamal from reading your lips. He jumps slightly at the motion, you’re never this close to him.

“Can I tell you something?” He nods, scared but intrigued.

“I’m trying to piss Jamal off. Will you help me?” Similarly to Jamal, you and Mathys have always been close friends. He’s younger than you, so you’ve always viewed him like a little brother more than anything, but that’s not to say you don’t appreciate his company. You knew he would definitely be down to help you tonight.

Mathys pulls away, searching deep in your eyes for certainty. He discovers you’re serious.

A smirk plays on his face as he nods slowly to himself. He’s not stupid, he quickly pieces things together. If he’s being honest, he’s always known something was going on between you and Jamal anyway. “Alright, alright. Deal.” “Deal, yeah? If anything I do gets too far, just tell me,” you assure.

“Oh, don’t worry, it’ll be worth it in the end. Do what you must,” he says, winking.

It didn’t take long for the ball to start rolling. It starts off innocent — you laugh just a little too loud at one of his jokes, planting your palm on his chest as you do, playing with your hair. The small gesture has Jamal shifting uncomfortably where he stood.

It wasn’t enough.

You pull out your phone, asking Mathys if he wants a picture. He extends one arm behind you on the couch, leaning into you. Wrapping his shoulders with your free arm, you pushed your heads together, scooting closer to him, to the point where your legs were folded over his thighs. Jamal knows what you’re doing now, and it’s driving him to insanity. Yet, he stands there, unmoving.

It wasn’t enough.

The final straw came from Mathys. You tipped your drink as far back as you could, trying to get the last few sips from the can. A few stray drops landed on the corner of your mouth instead, dribbling down your chin as you raised your hand below it to make it stop. 

He reaches over to catch the beer with his thumb, cupping your face, gently swiping your lips.

Jamal storms out of the living room.

Mathys takes his hand off of you immediately afterwards, and you two share a laugh, feeling achieved. “Well, he’s really pissed now,” he remarks.

“Good.”

He glances at you in curiousity at your deadpan, sly response. He had fun doing this whole tidbit with you, but he doesn’t even know why you’re doing it in the first place. “What’d he even do to you for you to do this?”

“Long story,” you say it in a way that lets him know you’re not going to go into further detail. You stand up from the couch, bag in hand. “I’ll be in my room. Thanks Mathys, that was fun.” He winks at you, clicking his tongue in response.

You made the walk to you room with your head held high in victory. The message you were delivering was definitely heard by Jamal, loud and clear. He’s not the only one that gets to mess around with whoever he wants. 

You kick your heels off, throwing your bag on the floor and plopping down on the bed, scrolling on your phone. Tossing and turning, you ended up curled with your back facing the door, and that’s when it barges open.

“Hey.” You turn around, it’s Noah. You go back to scrolling on your phone.

“What do you want?” “I’m not gonna be at home tonight, yeah? Most of the guys already left anyway. Just wanted to let you know,” he says, rambling. “It’s just, work stuff…” You roll your eyes. Noah’s always been bad at keeping secrets, especially when it involves girls.

“Yes Noah, I’ll be fine alone while you go spend the night with that girl you met in Berlin. We all know you like her.” You don’t even have to look at Noah to know his mouth had fallen slack, the words being ripped from his throat.

“Man. That bad, huh?” Noah chuckles. “Alright, I’m leaving. Bye,” he says, shutting the door behind him.

A few minutes pass as you lied there unmoving. still scrolling through your feed when the door opens a second time. You hear the hinge creak open and the click of the knob as the person enters your room without saying a word.

You sit up straight, looking behind you. “Mathys? Is that y—” It’s Jamal. Daggers shoot from his eyes, watching you roll your eyes and go back to using your phone.

“What do you want, Jamal?” you groan. The fact that you’re not calling him by his usual nickname, not bothering to even spare a glance has his face contorting.

“Since when have you and Mathys been that close?” His voice is deep, interrogative, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t tense up at his tone, chills arising through your body.

You build up the courage to face him properly, sitting on the edge of your bed. “Why should I tell you about the people I’m hanging out with?”

“Hanging out?” he spits in disbelief, vitriol laced in his words.

“Yeah! Hanging out, Jamal, what’s so wrong about that? Huh?” you exclaim. You can’t believe the sheer hypocrisy in his words. “You’re one to judge, at least I was only talking to Mathys anyway.” “He had his hand around your neck and he was just gawking at your body the whole time, don’t act stupid!” he snaps back, raising his hands and dropping them to his sides.

You jump onto your feet. “At least I don’t go around fucking other girls as soon as one of them stops giving me attention!” Jamal’s eyes widen, offended. You both know what you were referring to.

“You told me you were going on a date with someone! You said he was the one — how the fuck was I supposed to know you were joking?!” He takes a few steps closer.

You struggle to find the right response, your mouth periodically opening and closing. He’s got a point. You hate that he does. “You didn’t even give me the chance to explain myself! You just stormed out of the house!”

“Yeah, of course! After hearing you say that, of course I did!” “Why?!” you ask, watching his eyes go wide, his mouth shut, unable (or maybe not wanting) to respond. “Tell me why.” Now it’s you who takes a step closer, and Jamal’s at arms length, causing you to look up at him as you speak.

He says nothing back. 

You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief.

“That’s what I thought,” you mumble. You move past him, lightly bumping your shoulders together as you do to convey your anger. You need to get a drink from the kitchen, and hopefully by the time you come back, Jamal will be gone.

Just as your fingers graze the doorknob, a strong grip gets a hold of your arm. It all happened so fast. One second you were facing the door, the next — your back hit the wall, and Jamal’s lips were on yours.

The kiss was hungry, one of Jamal’s hands on the back of your head, tilting it to kiss you deeper, the other on your waist. Your arms naturally wrapped around his neck, scratching the back of his head, pulling him closer.

One of Jamal’s knees slipped between your legs, rubbing against your crotch. A breathy moan escaped your lips, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth, meeting yours. It was a messy, desperate kiss — a clash of teeth and tongue, Jamal making up with his lips what he can’t with his voice.

Jamal runs his hands up and down your dress. Your dress — it’s the same one you wore a few days ago, when you first got into the argument. It’s driving him crazy and you know it, it’s evident in the way he trails his mouth lower to your neck and down to your exposed cleavage.

“Jl,” you whine, teetering on a plea. He presses his forehead against yours, watching your eyes trained on him, your lipstick smeared and loose strands flying from your hair. He don’t think he’s ever seen anything more beautiful.

“This dress looks so good on you.” It’s all he can say before he’s kissing you again, a lot softer this time around.

“Mhm. Wore it just for you,” you breathe in between kisses. “Now take it off, please.” Your voice, your words, they rush straight to his cock. 

“Jump,” he instructs, and you do. Jamal walks over to your bed, plopping you on the soft pillows, his lips moulding against yours the whole time. He presses kisses lower on your neck, sucking, biting, being sure to leave a trail of purple marks for to blossom tomorrow morning.

Jamal takes the cut of your dress in his hands, pulling the fabric down, groaning at the sight of you without a bra. He wastes no time in swirling his tongue around your sensitive bud, causing you to throw your head back, wrapping your legs around his waist. He sucks and pulls with his teeth, moulding the other with his hands before switching, grinding down on your clothed core.

Once he’s satisified, he takes one last look at your tits — now glossy with his spit and marked purple, before climbing lower down your body. He bunches the material of your dress up your waist, exposing your panties to him.

Jamal takes hold of your legs, pressing a kiss to your crotch, smirking when your back arches, whining at the contact. 

“Fuck, don’t tease, please.” Your hand pushes his head closer to where you’re dripping, where you want him the most.

Jamal chuckles at your desperation, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your panties, pulling them down and tossing them carelessly aside. He spreads your lips, cursing under his breath when he sees the string of wetness that’s accumulated.

“You’re soaked,” he says, planting delicate kisses to the inside of your thighs, intently watching how you jolt at each one.

“Jamal, please.” He loves it when you beg. 

“Shh, I know, baby.” And he finally licks one long strip up your pussy, relishing in the way a moan is punched from your lips. You’re lucky your brother is out for the night, because he’s certain it can be heard through the walls.

He plants a few more kisses before spreading your lips, delving his tongue in your hole. Your thighs clamp shut around his head, but his strength pries them open. He alternates between fucking you with his tongue and sucking your clit, swirling figure-eights on it.

You’re a writhing mess, your throat dry from moaning and calling his name over and over. Jamal never wants to stop hearing the pretty noises you make.

He continues to push his tongue in your cunt, using his thumb to circle your clit, doubling the pleasure. He explores your walls, finding the spongy spot that punches a particularly loud moan from your throat.

“Fuck! Don’t—ah—don’t stop,” you beg, and Jamal is happy to oblige. He moans into your pussy, the vibrations rushing through your body. He feels you get wetter by the second, your juices coating his mouth and running down the sheets.

Your breathing is short and erratic, your fingers tugging at his hair as your orgasm washes over you, cumming all over Jamal’s mouth. He licks the slick running down your inner thighs, pressing some final few kisses to your clit before hovering over you, meeting your eyes.

The sight of Jamal above you is nothing short of glorious — his chin glossy from your juices, his eyes blown out and his lips plump and swollen. He can say the same for you below him, once snappy and sarcastic now panting and ruined.

You cup his cheek, adorlingly gazing into his eyes before tasting yourself on his tongue. He takes your wrists, one by one, pinning them above your head with one hand.

“Need to make sure you can take me, baby,” he coos. “Is that okay?” You nod rapidly. You’d say yes to anything if he asked.

Jamal chuckles, his free hand trailing lower down your body and finding your clit. You’re still sensitive from your last orgasm, bucking up into his hand when he does.

“J—oh.” He slips a finger into your cunt, watching the way your eyes roll to the back of your head and your jaw falls agape as you do. He pumps slowly at first, feeling your pinned hands try to escape his grip, but he pushes them down harder.

After a few moments, he slips another one in, filling you with two digits. “Shit,” you whine, closing your eyes shut.

“You can take it, yeah?” he asks. 

“Mhm, I can take more, a lot more.” Jamal feels his cock throb in his pants, desperate to be freed. He picks up the pace, and you squirm beneath him, taking your bottom lip in your teeth.

Jamal pushes deeper, curling his fingers inside your walls. Every time he fucks into you, his palm rubs against your clit, only adding to the pleasure. Once he finds your sweet spot, he relentlessly goes faster, chasing your second orgasm.

“Oh my god, fuck,” you blabber, unable to focus on anything else than the feeling of Jamal’s fingers.

“Hey, look at me,” he instructs, and eyes shoot open on instinct, seeing his brown eyes bore into yours.

“Want to see how you look when you cum.” 

You struggle in keeping your eyes open but do so to the best of your ability, your chest heaving up and down as your moans get more sporadic. Jamal is lost in your eyes, his wrist starting to tire from his movements. After one rough push of his hands, shockwaves rippling through your body as your second orgasm washes over you.

Slick runs down your thighs, onto the bedsheets and on Jamal’s wrist. He pulls out, causing you to whimper at the loss of contact before he licks them clean, tasting every last drop. Jamal sits up on his heels and you follow suit, kneeling in front of him. You grab the hem of his shirt, quickly pushing it up and over his head, exposing his torso. You’re entranced by his physique, trailing your nails down his chest and abs. His hand cups your cheek, pulling you into a kiss.

“Fuck me, J,” you plead in between kisses, and how could he say no?

“Get on all fours.” You flip over, arching your back, hanging your ass in the air for him. You hear the clink of his belt as he pulls down his trousers, watching from over your shoulder.

“I told you to take my dress off,” you remind him, lightening the mood a bit. You have to stifle back a moan as he spreads your ass, pulling you flush against the shape of his bulge, lowly moaning when he does. 

Jamal pauses for a moment. “Nah.” He pulls his boxers down, taking his cock in his hands, hard and throbbing, jerking himself off before aligning the tip with your pussy.

“Wanna fuck you in it.” 

He slides his cock up and down your slit before pushing into you in one long stroke. A long moan is drawn from your throat as your head drops, feeling him slowly stretch you out, stopping until his pelvis was flush with your ass. 

It takes a few moments for you to adjust to his size, hearing Jamal whisper soft praises as he grips your hips, rolling his slowly to help. Once you do, he pulls back out, only living the tip in your cunt, before slamming back in and finding a rhythm.

“Shit,” you spit through a mix of moans and curses, feeling him push into you over, and over, and over. After a particulary rough snap of his hips, your elbows give out under you, causing you to bury your face in the sheets, arching your back harder.

“God, you’re so fucking perfect.” You hear Jamal breathe from behind you. His eyes are trained on where you’re taking him raw, seeing the glossy sheen coat his shaft, glowing underneath your bedroom lights.

His hands are rough where he gropes, alternating between bunching your dress up higher, spreading your ass and gripping your hips, slamming you against him harder. 

Jamal pulls you up to his chest, one hand loosely hanging around your neck. You can barely process the change of position until you feel his bare chest flush against your back.

His lips curl into a smirk, watching your mouth slightly open, the filthiest of sounds pouring out into his ears, spit welling in its corners. Your eyes struggle to stay open, your head lulling on his shoulder.

“Don’t—ah—don’t stop, please,” you blabber, drunk on his hips snapping up into you. 

Jamal plants a featherlight kiss on your temple. “Never.” He plants another. “So good, so good for me.”

He moulds his lips against yours, a messy clash of teeth and tongue. You struggle to kiss back, only whining into his mouth.

The knot in your stomach grows tighter by the second, your moans getting increasingly higher pitched by the second, your face contorting in pleasure. You’re close, Jamal knows it too.

“I’m close, fuck.” You reach out to him behind you, trying to lock him in place so he doesn’t stop. Not like he was planning on it, anyway.

Jamal twitches inside you, and you know he’s close too. His thrusts get sloppier, more sporadic, chasing your high before his own.  “Cum for me, go on,” he coos, lips ghosting over your earlobe. 

He reaches around your torso, his fingers finding your clit, circling figure-eights. It’s all it takes for your orgasm to wash over you in waves, sending your thighs shaking. Jamal doesn’t stop, he fucks you through it all, pressing kisses on your neck and shoulder, fingers still trained between your thighs. Jamal pulls out, causing you to hiss at the sudden sensation of being empty. You’re spent, chest heaving and sticky with sweat, but you still find the energy to turn around, facing him. He’s jerking himself off in his hands, his cock red and throbbing, begging for a release.

You look up at him with mischievous eyes, his own watching your every move. You pull your dress up and over your head, leaving yourself bare in front of him, sitting on your heels.

Jamal kneels high above you, groaning when he watches you push your tits together, inviting him closer. His head tips back when you stick your tongue out, kitten licking the tip of his cock, tasting the precum dripping from its head.

Strings of white liquid are painted across your chest as Jamal cums, shuddering. You feel some hit your chin, darting your tongue to get a taste, never breaking eye contact.

He cups your chin, pressing his lips onto yours, leaving chaste kisses. You both stay like that for a while, lazily making out, smiling against each other’s lips.

Jamal plants one final kiss before pulling away. “Stay here, I’ll get you cleaned up.” He walks in your bathroom, leaving with a towel and a water bottle he’d found somewhere not long after. 

You let him gently swipe the towel against your chest, his hand on your shoulder, his thumb rubbing back and forth against your skin. While you two sat in silence, it wasn’t an awkward one, far from it. It was comforting. It felt familiar, this domesticity. It felt natural.

You don’t say anything when he pulls you to lay on his chest. You don’t say anything when he pulls the blanket over you two, turning off the lights. You just focus on his heartbeat.

A throbbing headache has been your alarm these past few mornings, and today is no different.

The sunlight spills through the cracks in your curtains, bleeding through your shut eyelids. You slowly ease into consciousness, sitting up and rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand.

The first thing that hits you is the cold. A shiver runs through your body, instinctively pulling the blanket closer to you.

The second thing that hits you is your lack of clothes. You blink away the drowsiness, examining yourself, completely bare. Peculiar, but not unfamiliar.

The third thing that hits you is the weight on the opposite side of your bed when you yank the comforter. Your eyes widen at the sight of an undressed Jamal, blanket only covering so much, stirring awake next to you. His toned abs in full display, glowing golden in the sunlight.

It doesn’t take long for your brain to floor your memories of recollections from last night. You wince, face scrunching in disbelief as the images flashed in your head one by one.  What were you thinking?

You bend down to grab the first article of clothing you could find — Jamal’s shirt. Not ideal but it’ll do. You put it on to cover yourself, standing up with the plan of getting as far away from him as possible.

A strong grip on your arm stops your plans. 

Jamal calls your name, voice gruff and thick with the early morning. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the sound.

“Where are you headed?” he asks, adoringly.

No. This is wrong. You can’t think of him that way, someone who’s supposed to be irrevocably off-limits — so you get right to the point.

“Jamal.” His eyebrows furrow at the sound of you calling his full name. You’re never in a good mood when you do. “This, this cant… we can’t…” You watch him look up at you like he was expecting this from a mile away. 

With one pull, he tugs you back in bed, causing you to sit on his lap, albeit not fully. You don’t want to run away from him, deep down you know you don’t, and he knows that too. 

“Why? You scared of Noah?” 

You’re not sure how to respond.

“This isn’t even, I mean, we’re not even…” you struggle to string the right words together.

Jamal cups your cheek and you melt into his touch. Your words say one thing but your body suggests another. 

“I like you, I really do. I know I didn’t get the chance to say it last night,” he assures. You feel your cheeks heat at the sudden confession. “I don’t want to see you with someone else. I don’t want to act like I’m perfectly fine when you bring up some other guy.” You look deep into his eyes with a look that says, me too. After last night you knew you and Jamal would never be the same, for better or for worse. You pick the former.

“And especially not Mathys, Jesus.” You chuckle, finally lightening up. “Out of all the people you wanted to use to make me jealous, you chose him. Blegh.”

The giggles leaving your chest are unabashed the second time around. “Well, it worked, didn’t it?”

“Yeah, and it sucked.” Jamal’s palm lets go of your face, dropping down to take your hand in his. He resumes to his original point. “I want this, okay? I want to wake up next to you every morning. I want to see you in my shirt every day,” he says while fumbling with the hem of his shirt hanging off your frame. 

“I want you.” 

You wrap an arm around his shoulder, pulling him in closer, this time properly sitting on his lap. “Never took you for such a romantic, J.” 

He stifles in a laugh, pressing his forehead against yours before closing the gap. You’re finally his.

[elllisaaa]

minghao bf thoughts pls 🫶

BF!MINGHAO who's always by your side no matter what, who doesn't seem like it sometimes but who always has an eye on you.

he's holding hands with you all the time, no matter where you are, who you're with or what you're doing. minghao especially does it when he can feel that you're anxious. the way you relax immediately when he swipes his thumb over your hand and squeezes it makes him feel better too - he loves to know that he's able to be some kind of comfort to you. when you do the same for him and grab his hand, minghao is immediately reconforted. holding hands is one of the only marks of affection he gives to you in public, never because he's ashamed of you, but simply because he prefers to keep that private, to keep your love private. so he will not really kiss you on the lips when you're with other people - he saves them for when you're alone - but he gives you so many kisses on your cheeks, the top of your hair or your forehead. it feels even sweeter and intimate to the both of you and you smile at each other everytime he kisses you. minghao kisses your hands a lot too - soft kisses to every one of your knuckles before he intertwines your fingers with his.

"let me hold your hand darling, i don't want to lose you in the crowd."

he loves to have deep conversations about serious subjects with you, it's very interesting because you get to know more about the ways you're both seeing the world in different ways. and everytime minghao is blown away from how well you're completing each other. you're not always agreeing on everything, but it still fits perfectly. and he also can't get over how clever you are. whenever you have a new fixation or obsession, he lets you ramble about it and asks details to get to know more. even when the subject is pretty tough and complicated, he wants you to tel everything. and when it's his turn to explain something in-depth, he always makes sure that he doesn't make you feel like you're dumb for asking some questions or not getting on the first try, he always makes you feel at ease. minghao also has so much respect for you. whatever you do, he will support you through it and give you advice. you want to start a new hobby ? he'll help you buy the supplies you need. you want to change jobs or major ? it's okay, it's a big step but he'll be with you all the way. and he never fails to remind you that he's really proud of you.

"you did so good love, i'm so proud of you."

talking about being proud, minghao praises you a lot, for about anything. and he especially makes sure to compliment you about the things he knows you're insecure about, because every little part of you is perfect in his eyes and he can't bear the thought of you not loving yourself as much as he does. and it all feels so natural that you can't help but believe him. whenever you both have a day off, minghao loves to spend a lazy day at home with you. you pick out a book for each other, he makes you some tea, and you spend the whole day reading, quietly talking and just basking in each other's presence. one of you often ends up falling asleep, and when it's your turn to take a nap, minghao adores watching you sleep. he brushes his fingers against the soft skin of your cheeks, runs his hands through your hair and kisses your eyelids tenderly. you just look so peaceful like that, he cannot help it. his need to take care of you translates in the way he always insists on helping you when you're sick or sad. he stays by your side to help you even if you tell him that you can take care of yourself, he loves to do it for you.

"don't move darling, i'm going to prepare you some tea, yeah ? it'll help you sleep better."

BF!MINGHAO who's in need for control, who needs you to behave. he will give you what you want if only you follow his rules.

we all know that minghao loves art, and as an artist, i think he would love shibari a lot for two main reasons. first is that it allows him to have full control over you and do whatever he wants. second, it looks very aesthetically pleasing. he has a lot of different ropes, of different sizes and colors, so he can switch up depending his mood or yours that day. he always makes sure that the knots are not too tight, and that you know you can say your safe word at any times, to not hesitate to tell him if you're uncomfortable. minghao loves to tie you up in ways that exposes his favourite parts of your body to him, or in ways that render you unable to move and lets him do anything he wants. he fucks you with your wrists tied to your ankles, pretty knots all over your legs while he's having his way from behind. he will also pull on the ropes for some more leverage. one of his favourite parts is when he frees you from the ropes and they leave red marks all over your body.

"you look so pretty like this, all pretty just for me."

minghao takes foreplay very seriously, he wants you literally soaking wet by the time he pushes his cock inside of you. and this man knows how to use his fingers for sure. he also knows how much you like them and he loves to tease you with them. he circles your clit until you're cumming from only that, he run his fingers against your folds but never puts them in, he insists that you don't need more than one of his finger. he could spend hours with his fingers deep inside of you without getting tired of it. minghao also makes you beg for them too, asks you to spell it out for him before he lets you have them. the best part is that the both of you are enjoying it just the same - you cum (most of the time) and he gets to feel you squeeze around his fingers. though he isn't above edging either. when you're being a brat and getting on his nerves, you think you finally got him right where you wanted when he gives you his fingers, but he doesn't let you cum until he's satisfied with how much of a mess he made of you.

"don't get all shy on me now darling, you wanted my fingers now take it."

he loves to experiment too, loves to help you discover everything that you like, loves when you let him test something too. he always makes these nights special and sweet so you know how much he appreciates you because even if he's gonna be fucking you in an hour, he's still a gentlemen. when he has the time to really take care of you, minghao loves to use a blindfold on you. he knows that it heightens all of your senses, and he has so much playing with your body when you can't see. you react to every one of his touches even more, whining every time his fingers trace your skin, moaning every time he kisses you, shivering every time he speaks to you. it doesn't happen often though because minghao does love to have your eyes on him while he's fucking you. it's something he's very adamant about - keeping eye contact. even when he's deep inside of you, your legs trembling around his waist, he still asks you to keep your eyes open. it makes it even more intense and intimate for him, he feels even more connected to you this way. cumming at the same time while looking in each other's eyes is what gets him going the most.

"eyes on me darling, i want to see you when i make you cum around my dick."

[ladyelissarose]

Can you do like Hobie smut, your writing is GOOD.

Let it be a jealousy kinda thing I haven't seen much of Hobie being jealous

‘I’ll Show You Jealous’

Hobie Brown aka Spider-Punk x female spider-woman reader. (he calls her ‘webs’)

Trope; best friends to lovers

Warnings; 18+ Smut! NSFW. Jealous sex, it starts quite rough then ends soft. Hobie being Hobie- but jealous ;) slight fingering.. mostly smut y’all .

Summary: Being best friends shouldn’t have any feelings in between right? Especially jealousy when Hobie thinks your hanging around too close to a certain Spider-Man? What does it take for him to come to terms on how he ‘really’ feels?

Authors note; My favorite anon!! I’m sorry it took me a few days to get this out, but I’m glad to say it’s all yours now! I hope you like it, I’ve never written for Hobie before!! Enjoy love!!🫶🏼🌻

“You see? That’s why I think you’re one of the funniest! You’re hilarious and you get my humor!”

An effortless chuckle left your lips as your hand slipped off of Ben Riley’s back, where it had been first when you patted it.

You two had just come back from a short mission, which was as per usual… putting an anomaly where it belonged, and making sure canon took place as it should. Hobie stood in the distance watching you both communicate so freely and happily, like if you had been best friends, like you were with Hobie. I mean, that’s all you too should of been.. best friends.

But in the pit of his stomach and behind his tough and sarcastic behavior about not liking commitment, all he wanted to do was commit his life to you, and make you more than his ‘best friend’. The only thing was.. he didn’t know how to tell or show you. So painfully he witnessed you give away your laughter and touch to someone else, if not others that weren’t him. So to avoid staring at this heartbreak, he went back to his universe.

Soon you had let Ben go and looked for the one that made you smile the biggest, warm your heart, and give you a certainty of safety and care no matter what crazy shit you two did. But, he was no where to be seen. A frown made it to your lips after you had checked everywhere, you even went up to Miguel’s lair to check if Hobie wasn’t lurking around and stealing his lunch- and yet, he wasn’t there. You sat for a minute and thought that maybe he went home, but… he always waited for you to come back from a mission, so you could eat together and go on a short ‘joy swinging’ across the universes.

Hoping you’d find him at his universe, you clicked on your gizmo and went to his place, falling in love with the aesthetic of it all as you arrived, and it reminding you of every detail about Hobie too. You swung around his home- he wasn’t there. At his favorite hideout clubhouse- he wasn’t there. Even stopped by the stand where he usually took a sweet bread or two without being seen- he wasn’t in sight. Finally stopping to take a break, you thought for a few seconds before it clicked for you.

“What the hell… where could you- oh! I know.”

What concerned you though about the place where he could possibly be, was the fact that you told each other that you’d go there if something was wrong or ‘a talk’ needed to happen, meaning it was very serious.

Upon arriving to the tallest skyscraper in your universe, you let out a sigh of relief as you found him there, playing a soft tune on his guitar.

You walked slowly towards him, knowing he’d feel your presence, as his spider senses would tell him immediately. You slid off your mask as you called out,

“Hobie?-“

Hobie’s shoulders tensed as he muttered immediately,

“Jus’ leave me be… please?”

Worry but you as you heard him, his slightly broken voice,

He’s never told you to leave him alone, instead the opposite, always subtly begging you to be around his presence, whether it was him lurking around with your favorite snack, or playing your favorite songs on his guitar. Hobie was smart, he found out ways to keep you around that didn’t include him actually telling or asking you to be… and so far it has worked like magic.

It was your smile that had him loosening up, the little squeals you let out when Mayday was being extra adorable, puppy eyes at the sight of kittens or his favorite of all time, your mere presence that gave him motive to fall for you.

With you he felt free and safe, he knew he’d give up an entire universe if that meant he could be with you. But lately as you’ve been given more privileges, you’ve been a little too absent for his liking, and he didn’t appreciate how you were hanging around Miguel and Ben Riley more than him.

Trust was something you too have built quite strongly sense the start of your friendship, and he should’ve confided in that trust and believe that you haven’t ghosted him for someone else… yet here he was… sadly plucking on his guitar strings to your favorite tune- ‘Vigilante Shit’… thinking that maybe you have.. but here you are. Speaking out to him as if you were desperate for him.

“Hobie please, I can help-“

“How’d you know I’d be here?”

With a scoff you recalled your guys’ words,

“We said we’d come here for something important.. and today I couldn’t find you anywhere.. so I thought this would be the place.. and here you are. So, what’s wrong Hobie?”

He then stood up and mumbled to himself,

“It’s nothing, I shouldn’t of come.”

Your spider senses heard him clearly tho, so before he was about to walk off you genuinely said,

“Hobie.. you know I’m here for you. Regardless of what it is.”

Hobie turned to you and walked close, watching how you didn’t walk back but stayed in place as his sassed,

“Are you sure? Didn’t think you’d be after being with everyone else all the time.”

You sensed his words, and could feel the weight of jealousy in them, it only caused you to realize that he felt just as protective of you, as you did for him… but you hid your jealousy better. So you took the chance to tease him,

“Are you jealous Hobie Brown-“

Rolling his eyes and crossing his arms he pouted defensively,

“No. Absolutely not-“

You tried to tease him more as you pushed the guitar on his shoulder,

“Then what’s wrong? Looks like you are jealous-“

He sent a playful snap at you so you wouldn’t touch his treasure as he did his best to reassure,

“Tis’ nothin’ webs… I promise.”

His closed off attitude told you it was more than nothing, and you wouldn’t have it.. not his half or full lies about what’s going on. Hobie was about to walk away past you, but you grabbed his arm and insisted,

“Hobie! If you don’t do or say something about what’s going on with you I will explo- MMPH!!”

His warm hands got a hold of your face, pressing a harsh kiss to your lips. Eyes going wide open at the shock his actions caused you, but you couldn’t pull yourself away.

Not when you could see the way he had his shut with force, and the how his long lashes that you were always jealous of brush over his cheeks… you couldn’t deny how much you loved every detail about him. Your heart fluttered at the feeling of the cool of his nose ring press up against your nose, and his soft breathing hitting you, his lip ring marking a place on your lip as he gave you a bruising kiss.

You didn’t realize how long it took you admiring what you’ve always loved about him before you reciprocated the kiss, brining him closer to you by the collar of his jacket. But he slightly pushed you away, and before you could interpret something wrong, he muttered against your lips,

“you think I’m jealous webs?”

With a short chuckle you replied with sass,

“I think you’re very jealous Hobie.”

He smirked and webbed you your hands in an instant, your eyes found his with matching glares, filled with desire. He then put you to lay on the edge of the building, your head leaning off as he growled,

“I’ll show you jealous.”

With expert hands he was able to find your hidden zipper and slide down your pants along with your panties, enough to free your cunt for him to touch. Your hands as they were webbed up, hung off the edge, dangling down, stretching you a bit. Hobie pulled you close to him by gripping your thighs tightly, then he tore the web off your wrists with the pick for his guitar.

You were just about to reach for him, but he pushed you back once again, and laying his pick between your teeth as he ordered,

“Love, you keep that there safe for me.. and these hands.. hold onto the edge… don’t touch me until I tell you.. understood?”

You nodded once, taking all his commands in, wanting to meet them all, but Hobie hovered his face over yours and asked calmly,

“Words love.. do you feel ok and safe?”

You knew if you had a problem with something he’d adjust the universe to your liking, but right now you felt good and desperation. So you worded with the pick in between,

“I feel goo’.. I just wan’ you… I nee’ you.”

Pressing a hard kiss to your lips, feeling his favorite metal pick touch him, it stirred him on to take you now. His fingers found your cunt and stuck two in, going knuckle deep as your were soaking and taking him smoothly. With pride he watched your face contort in pleasure, the most beautiful moans leaving your lips because of him.

Your chest heaved for air as he pumped harder and faster, wanting you to come apart by his hands. The beauty of the city lights below you couldn’t compare to you, you were far too bright and gorgeous, so many things at once you were and yet, you were the most fit and complete person he had ever seen.

Your walls squeezed around his fingers, informing him you were near as your moans turned into cries as well. He teased you a bit as he slowed the pace, hearing you cry for ‘him’ had him groan and feeling his pants tighten more.

“H-Hobie! Ah please! Please-“

“What do you want love-“

“More! More please..”

Your eyes teared up as you cried for him, wanting to feel more of him as he had spurred on your high then took it away. He sucked on his fingers, letting out a moan,

“Sweet as always love.. never doubted you..”

Hobie then kissed your face, letting you taste yourself on him as he took the pick from your lips and he unbuckled his pants, sliding them down as he worded to you,

“C’mere love.”

Latching onto him as your arms wrapped around him, he pulled you up into his lap, sitting where you were at the edge, while looking up to you as your face was almost right at his. You both were breathing hard as you ran your hands through his hair and rested the other on his neck, Hobie’s hands exploring your back and thighs while kissing your neck. It was an all new sensation you both felt, not wanting to end it and growing addicted by the second. Hobie’s cock rested between your thighs, hitting his stomach and leaking precum, it had you reaching for it and playing with the red tip. He pulled you in for a kiss as you began to take him into your hands. His hips bucked up as your hands slid up and down his large length, spreading his cum and rubbing the tip with your thumb. He was getting to his high not so slowly, your hands bringing him on faster than he thought, so he abruptly stopped you with a pleading voice,

“Please love, need to feel you.. ready?”

You were already lifting your hips over his tip as you responded,

“I’m so ready.”

It wasn’t long before you slid down on him, your soaked walls taking him in right away. Once he bottomed out you both knew deep down, that you wouldn’t last long.

He was so deep, his tip touching your cervix, Hobie picked you up as he gripped your thighs tightly, then he slid you back down, groaning into your lips at the pleasure he instantly felt. Hobie didn’t care and wasn’t afraid of the position he was in, as he sat at the edge of the skyscraper, with you in his lap taking all of him. He confided in his strength to withhold you, and make you feel good more than anything. You than began to bounce on his cock, letting out whimper’s and mewls when you slid back down, feeling the stretch overtake you. Hobie helped you speed up as he took control and moved his hips to meet you at every thrust. Warmth began to seep into your core again, but burning more this time. You pulled Hobie closer to you as you begged,

“I need you more- please!”

“I know my love.. me too.”

Hobie needed the same, and fully take control, so he changed positions and laid you on your back, wrapping your legs around his waist. You held onto his hands as they were above your head, and took a deep breath as you prepared for what came. With locked gazes, Hobie pulled back and thrusted into you right away, loving how you responded to him so well by clenching around him and moaning his name. Little by little he picked up his speed, knowing you both needed your much needed release, warmth engulfing you both as well as a passion for more.

Hobie railed into you now as he asked in between pants,

“Who do you belong to love?”

Breathing out a moan when he hit a particular spot, you cried out,

“Y-You! You Hobie!!”

Letting go of your hand to hold your hips down with extra force, Hobie punctuated each word with a harsh thrust,

“You. Sure. Love?”

Hitting your cervix every time had your toes curling and backs arching to him while you whimpered,

“Yes!! I’m yours Hobie Brown!!”

You could feel him throb inside of your walls, as you clenched around him, nearing your release. Hobie could feel the release nearing too, your warm walls taking him in and milking his precum into you. Now all he desired in that moment was for you to let go for him, and only him. Increasing his speed and piercing his grip into you, Hobie demanded with a sweet but firm tone,

“Beg for me love.. t-tell me who it is that is making you co-come.”

Doing his best to hold on a bit longer, Hobie awaited your answer, pleading from his heart that it’d be soon as he wished to claim you already and paint your walls with him. You clawed his back and pulled him closer, kissing his earlobe you then panted and moaned into his ear,

“Only you can Hobie.. please- ahh! Make me come- please please Hobie!”

His jealousy for you along with a new unlocked sensation… possessiveness, had him wanting to here you beg more.

“Beg me to make you come-“

He then lowered his hand to your clit, and began to rub tight circles around your bud, urging you to cry out in a desperate tone, tears evident that you were desperate.

“-AHH!! Oh Hobie! Please- please baby make me cum! Only y-you can!! So p-please!!”

Letting out a deep breath Hobie moaned into your hair,

“Come my love, come wi’ me.”

Feeling him pulsate along with his sharp thrusts, had you coming undone under his arms, coating his cock with your juices. Hobie brought you in for a deep kiss when he came, swallowing yours and his moans as he then slowly rode out both of your highs, wanting it to last a little longer. He was the opposite from how he started, which was rough… but now he gave gentle strokes, only pulling away when you told him it was too sensitive now. You were both out of breath and pulling away at once to catch some air, your chests touching from how close you were but also how much air you were taking in. Hobie gave your forehead a short but meaningful kiss before pulling away, but instead you pulled him in for a hug, hiding your face in his neck as you reassured him,

“I’ll only and always be yours Hobie Brown.. I promise.”

Hobie squeezed you tight and was grateful for your embrace, and he ran his fingers through your hair, as he returned the promise,

“I’ll be yours too love.. forever.”

Your eyes twinkled, as he confessed,

“I’m sorry I never made it clear webs.. but I do love you… very much so.”

With a soft peck you replied,

“I love you too… I always have Hobie.”

In a silence you too held each other, satisfied with your actions, more in love and thriving for more days like this to come.

Maybe this love making session was unexpected and out of the blue for the both of you, but it felt so right, and so good. A little breeze of wind then brushed by, causing you to shiver a bit in Hobie’s arms, a second didn’t go by when he suggested,

“Let’s get us home yeah? Don’ want ya to get cold lovie…”

Carefully he helped you put back on your suit, being extra touchy but extremely gentle as he zipped you up (but he didn’t do this before taking a look at your- his cunt now dripping from his cum.

Soon you too helped Hobie with his pants, and getting his guitar safely back into his hold. Both slipping on your masks, you were ready to swing home, but your legs were a little to wobbly for your liking. Hobie caught the slight stumble before holding you up and telling you,

“I’ll carry you home.. on my back lovie.”

With you tightly secured around him, he took off and swung towards home, going through the city so you could have the last look of the city night lights… as he knew it was one of your favorite parts of being Spider-Woman. Efficiently he swung by a stand full of flowers, plucking one off and easily giving it to you, a smile made it to your face as the rose was given to you with a brush of his hands touching yours. You blushed hard like if it was the first time he touched you, and hadn’t just made love to you on the tallest building of your city.

You never felt fear as you embraced him with the rose in your hand tightly. You trusted Hobie’s skills as you had seen them be incredibly strong and capable of much, while swinging he’d collect something he’d like and hand it to you.. so far you have 3 different flowers and a lollipop. Hobie had sticky fingers.. but you didn’t mind it, he wasn’t selfish with his findings.

It didn’t take long when you finally arrived at your balcony, he made sure your feet were flat on the ground before letting you go. Walking into your dark home didn’t feel lonely and filled with void like before, now you held Hobie’s hand tight as you led him to your room, wordlessly telling him you really wanted him to stay the night, if not forever. You both jumped into the shower wanting it to be quick, your night having been long and you both were craving to lay down in one another’s arms. Hobie’s hands never left your body as he helped you scrub down, he never looked at you like you’re a piece of meat.. but as if you were such a treasure to behold. It didn’t matter about your battle scars or the shape of you, he was now addicted and more in love. You treated Hobie the same way, wanting to show him that you indeed wanted him and him only, asking him questions about how he does his hair and wanting to memorize his steps to keep his styled hair in tact (as you loved how his hair looked) Drying off in fluffy towels, and sharing the air-blow dryer, you too were soon ready for bed. Hobie lifted you up from the thighs and carried you in, laying you down gently and pecking your lips all so romantically, before plopping himself on top of you. A breathy groan left your lips as he cuddled into your stomach, acting innocent and slightly ignoring how he had dropped onto you. He made sure he was in a good spot, not wanting his hair to be in your face, but close enough where you can rub his head. Soft kisses were given on your tummy as he worded again and again, softly yet possessively,

“You’re mine.. all mine. This body, your heart… you. Right baby?”

You could never say no.

“Yes baby.. all yours.. all of me.”

He smiled to himself as he lastly cooed,

“I love you..”

His chest warmed up as he heard your reply,

“I love you more..”

[bamboobooshark]

“More Dad!/CG logan fics” we all say in unison! (Please and ty :)) im so obsessed with how cute they are 🥹)

LOGAN HOWLETT X LITTLE!READER

⋆｡𖦹°‧🎞️ GOOD AS NEW : 905 WRDS

<RATING: PG, MINOR SCRATCH/BLOOD MENTION>

A/N : Here’s another CG!/Dad!Logan fic with some inspiration from cloudbug08, and a request from an Anonny (THANK U SM FOR THE REQUEST 💗) I love bug’s headcanons for CG!Logan heaps, so I included his headcanon of Logan calling you kit :] !!Warning for a minor injury (knee scrape) and a few mentions of blood!!

You and Logan were strolling hand in hand through Walmart. He decided to let you pick out a new stuffie since you haven’t been misbehaving all week. You squeeze Logan’s hand in excitement causing him to chuckle under his breath and smile. The second you spot the section of the store that holds the stuffed animals, you squeal with excitement and run over to the aisle while pulling on Logan’s hand. “C’mon, papa! I wanna get a stuffie! Hurry,” you whine while pulling on his hand. He sighs dramatically and rolls his eyes. “I’m sorry, bub. I’m trying to stay up with you, but you’ve got too much energy for me to keep up with,” he says. You pout at him, letting go of his hand to cross your arms against your chest. He raises his eyebrows while giving you a look that tells you to watch yourself. “Hey now, kid. Don’t get pouty on me. You gotta remember we’re only here because you behaved all week. That could change right now if you don’t drop it,” he says with a gentle voice that still gets the point across. You immediately quit pouting, dropping your arms to your side and reattaching yourself to Logan. “That’s my little kit,” he coos as he brings his hand up to your head and cups your jaw in his palm. You let out a small chirp from his praises, always accepting the sweet words. “Now let’s get you a new friend,” he says, petting the back of your head and walking over to the aisle filled with soft toys.

You and Logan are on his motorcycle now, making your way home. Your new stuffie is secured tightly in your backpack. Your arms squeeze tightly around Logan’s waist. Your body presses against the leather of his bomber jacket, the strong scent of it filling your senses greatly. Your helmet presses against his back while your knees press into him. “We’re almost home, bubs,” he tells you while waiting for the light you’re at to turn green. You nod against him to let you know you heard him.

The two of you arrive home shortly after, Logan pulling into the garage and parking his bike. He gets off first, shaking his head and fixing his hair. He takes your helmet off and smiles at you. “Look at that smile. God, you are too cute,” he compliments while holding out his hand for you to hold. You giggle from his compliment and take his hand. Unfortunately, you trip over your own feet, falling and scraping your knee. From your position on the floor you look up at Logan. “Papa,” you whine as tears brim in your eyes. Logan bites the inside of his cheek and scoops you into his arms. “Oh, baby. Please don’t cry. It’s alright. You’re alright. Just breathe for me, kid,” he pleads before peppering your face with kisses. Your tears stream out of your eyes against your will. Your wrists press against your eyelids as you try your best to wipe away the tears. “Sorry papa,” you mumble pitifully. Logan begins to carry you inside while reassuring you that everything’s okay, you did nothing wrong, you have nothing to apologize for.

He sets you down on the couch and looks you over, kneeling to check for any damage done caused by the trip. “Are you hurt, kid? I need you to use your words so papa can help you,” he says while softly pressing his hands against you. “My knee hurts. I think I scratched it,” you hiccup through tears. He nods and moves his hand to your knee, moving the fabric away from your skin. “Awe. You poor thing,” he says at your knee, kissing to slightly scratched flesh. “We gotta patch you up so you don’t get a yucky infection,” he tells you. He pats your thigh before getting up and going to the bathroom so he can clean you up.

He returns with some cotton balls, rubbing alcohol, and a piece of candy. “Let’s get you cleaned up, kiddo,” he says with a grunt as he settles onto the ground again. You hold you new stuffie tightly in your arms while biting your lip anxiously in anticipation of pain, watching Logan put some rubbing alcohol onto a cotton ball. “This is gonna sting a little bit,” he warns. He offers his hand to you and you quickly take it. Despite the fact you’re squeezing his hand so hard that your knuckles turn white, he keeps a straight face. He pats the cotton ball against the slightly bloodied skin causing you to whimper in pain. “Papa,” you whine softly as your tears come back to run down your cheeks. “I know, bub. I know. You got this. You’re my brave little kit, ain’t ya,” he asks with a soft smile, squeezing your hand softly. You continue to cry and nod your head in agreement to his question. Before you know it, he’s done cleaning up your knee. It looks so much better; less red and no longer bleeding. He smiles up at you as you pull him against you tightly. He chuckles as his face is squished against your stomach, feeling his heart melt from the affection. “Good as new, kit. Good as new,” he says, wrapping his arms around you and allowing you to mess with his hair and show your thanks with physical love.

[wooziorgans]

hey, handsome! what about something with seungkwan and etl or frenemies with benefits?? i can see a lot of teasing and rage sex... honestly, i would love to be bratty with kwan, to push his buttons and make him put me in my place... if he's bad, i'd be worse :) what r your thoughts?? thank you in advance <3

— brag about it

oh lord i have never written for seungkwan or anyone besides uji rlly so uh. i hope this is okay. this was a nice break from all the other stuff im writing. i don’t think i can truly write mean dom anyone without like the softest aftercare ever so. I hope this is an okay response. this is blond seungkwan suggested but I don’t rlly describe him that much but just imagine he’s blond.

warnings: seungkwan is sooo mean ugh. ass slapping. pussy slapping. orgasm denial (reader). reader called seungkwan gay n it pissed him off (in good fun, not a derogatory way). rough sex. unprotected sex. cream pie. choking (kinda). kinda big dick seungkwan. dom-ish kwan. hair pulling. rough messy blow jobs. gagging. crying during sex from pleasure. crying after sex (from emotions). etl kinda w a very open ending. not that much aftercare but yolo.

“Quit running you fucking mouth.” Seungkwan hisses, his grip on your wrist tight as he pulls you into his bedroom. He doesn’t spare you a single glance as he pushes you down onto his bed. You squeak softly, laughing in his face at his obvious anger towards you.

“I’m not wrong, am I though? You are kind of gay for Hansol.” You smirk, biting at you bottom lip as Seungkwan pulls his shirt over his head. He scoffs in disbelief, flipping you over on your stomach. His hand cracks down on your ass over the tight fabric of your jeans.

You gasp softly before it turns into a long, deeply satisfied moan. Seungkwan just scoffs, lifting your hips off the bed and pulling your jeans down over your ass. He rubs the soft skin with an unnatural tenderness. You turn your head to look at him, but another sharp crack halts the movement of your neck halfway.

“Gay? Yeah, sure. We’ll see about that one, sweetheart.” He scoffs in disbelief. Seungkwan’s hand dips down into your underwear, fingers sliding over the tight muscle of your asshole before they dip down towards your entrance. “God, you’re fucking soaked. Embarrassing.” He laughs at you, tone so sharp it elicits another moan in response.

You push your hips back against Seungkwan’s palm for more friction but he pulls his hand away. You whine softly. All he does is pull your jeans and underwear down further in one go, not quite off of you. You kick them off the rest of the way.

Seungkwan pops the button on his pants, pulling his cock out of its constraints and moving to stand closer to the headboard. “Why don’t we put your big fucking mouth to good use for once, hm?” He sneers, grabbing a fist full of your hair to pull your head up.

You bite your lip to silence a moan. Seungkwan catches you in the act, laughing softly in disbelief as his other hand grabs a hold of your face. His thumb pushes past your lips, against your teeth to force your mouth open, not like it’s much of a fight to begin with. You roll over onto your side, hands grabbing at the belt loops of his pants to pull him closer.

The hand in your hair lets go as he uses it to guide the tip of his cock to your lips. You open your mouth to say something, to tease him, but before you get the chance, his cock is already half way inside your mouth. Seungkwan bucks his hips forwards, forcing more of his cock into your mouth. His hands find your hair again, holding you down as your throat spasms around his tip.

“Not so smart now, are we?” He hisses, a satisfied groan slipping from his lips as his head falls back. He thrusts into your mouth, making you gag softly as tears start to fill your eyes. Seungkwan pouts at you mockingly. “What? Can’t take my cock in your mouth today? Is it too much for you?” He coos, tone so soft it’s almost tender and genuine, but there’s an edge to his voice that tells you he’s not sincere at all.

You nod the best you can with the restriction of your neck, sputtering softly around his cock. Spit drips from your bottom lip onto the sheets of Seungkwan’s bed. He tisks softly, slowly fucking your throat as he contemplates scolding you for making such a mess. You know he won’t though, because if there’s one thing you know about Seungkwan and this weird not-quite-friends-yet-also-not-exactly-civil thing you two have going on, is that there’s nothing he loves more than a messy blowjob.

Instead of scolding you, Seungkwan just forces your head down further on his cock, triggering your gag reflex. Instead of his normal course of action where he’d make you gag and then give you the grace of letting you breathe at least a little bit, he keeps his cock down your throat until you gag so violently he’s worried you might throw up if he keeps you there.

Seungkwan pulls his cock out of your mouth entirely. You whine, gasping for air and blinking away the tears in your eyes. He just laughs at you, climbing onto his bed. “On your back.” Not bothering to take off his pants, he pushes them down to his knees. You roll over, struggling to pull your shirt over your head, but Seungkwan just looks at you with this deadpan stare and you stop fighting with the piece of clothing entirely.

“It’s not so hard to listen to me, is it?” Seungkwan pushes, settling in between your legs.

“You didn’t give me any directions.” You push back, spreading your legs farther apart. Seungkwan pushes your legs apart, delivering a taut slap directly against your pussy. Your hips lift off the bed ever so slightly, and Seungkwan is quick to force you back down.

“Y’know, I really wanted to take my time and prep you properly today, but you’re really pissing me off.” He bites, hand pressed into your thigh.

“Enlighten me, Kwannie. It’s not like I need the prep anyway.” You laugh softly, wiggling your hips against the mattress.

“Hm? ‘Cause you’re that much of a slut that gagging on my dick has you soaked?” He asks, one hand wrapped lazily around his cock, coating it in your spit.

“Nah, ‘cause you’re hardly anything to brag about.” You bite, tone almost bitter. You need him now.

Much to your liking, Seungkwan pushes himself all the way in, filling you to the brim with his cock in one quick movement. You don’t even see it coming until he’s filling you completely. You gasp softly, the stretch of his cock very clear with the way your thighs shake softly as you adjust. You always need prep with Seungkwan. This is the one time you scold yourself internally for running your mouth around him.

“Not much to brag about huh? You can hardly take me, even with how wet you are.” He laughs, giving you a few seconds to settle into the feeling of his cock almost splitting you in half. Seungkwan pulls out a bit, before he thrusts back in, hard and deep. You gasp softly, tears resurfacing in your eyes at the pace he sets.

It’s hard and fast; he’s ruthless. Seungkwan leans over you, hand delicately wrapping around your throat. He doesn’t squeeze, doesn’t make any effort to choke you quite yet. All he does is lean down and kiss you. It’s hungry, all teeth and spit and tongue. It would be too messy for him in normal circumstances, but nothing about this is normal.

His cock jack hammers against that spot inside of you, forcing the air out of your lungs as you let out a long, unsteady moan. It’s then that Seungkwan takes his chance to tighten his grip on your neck, fingers digging into the sides to create a pressure so good it has you seeing stars in seconds.

In no time, you feel the coil in your stomach start to tighten. You mumble out a warning to Seungkwan, not even fully aware of what you’re saying yourself.

Just like that, the tightness is gone. Seungkwan releases his grip on your throat and pulls out of you completely. “No, no, no, fuck!” You whine, the tears in your eyes now falling down your cheeks. “I was so close, you fucking asshole.” You hiss, but there’s no real malice behind any of it. You’re too fucked out to mean it. Seungkwan laughs at you, and it starts to infuriate you.

“You don’t get to cum yet. I don’t think you’ve really learned your lesson quite yet.” His eyes narrow, obviously displeased with the way you’re speaking to him. Before you have time to fight him on the subject, he slides back in, tip kissing your cervix softly.

He goes back to his brutal pace immediately, spares choking you for now as he watches the way your expression changes from slight anger to being immediately fucked out. He lifts one of your ankles over his shoulder, changing the angle to hit deeper. You babble incoherently in between moans that sound straight out of a shitty 90s’ porno. Seungkwan bites his bottom lip to stop himself from moaning in response to you.

“You gonna stop being such a pain in my ass all the time?” Seungkwan asks, hand gripping your thigh. You grab at the material of your shirt, pulling it up your torso. You nod, unable to form coherent words. “Answer me with words.” He snaps his hips harder, just to make the task that much more difficult.

“Y-yes, fuck.” You whine, voice hardly above a whisper.

“You gonna start behaving in front of my friends?” He asks. As you start to speak again, he delivers another slap to your clit, though he keeps his hand there, rubbing tight circles over the swollen bud.

“Mm, fuck, yeah.” You gasp.

“What was that? I didn’t hear a yes.” His thumb flicks over the nerve, making your whole body jerk.

“Yes, fuck, yes, I’ll behave.” You mewl, eyes rolling back into your head.

“Good.” Is all he offers, cock hammering into you, nudging the spot inside of you with such force your thighs start to shake, threatening to close from their spread state.

“Close.” You manage to get out in one solid syllable. The hand on your thigh moves back to your throat, squeezing with just enough pressure to make every other sense heightened.

“Cum for me, sweetheart.” Seungkwan nearly purrs. Just like that, the building pressure overflows so suddenly that your whole body thrashes with the force of your orgasm. You tighten impossibly around him, sucking his cock in and making it impossible for him to move. Your cum coats his cock, and that’s all he needs.

Seungkwan cums inside of you, a stifled groan against your neck as his pillowy lips mouth at the skin there. He drops his weight on top of you, exhaling deeply as the last of his cum fills you up.

Nothing but the sound of laboured breathing fills his bedroom as the two of you come down from your highs. And then, quietly, a small sniff. Seungkwan almost misses it, misses the way your hands hesitate to find their spot in his hair, or the wetness on your cheeks that wasn’t there before.

Still deep in his post orgasm bliss, he can hardly pay attention to you, but there’s just enough clarity that he notices how stiff your body is, and then a few seconds later, he registers the fact that you’re crying. Seungkwan pushes himself off of you, quickly pulling his boxers back over his softening cock and kicking his pants off. Wordlessly, he lays down beside you, pulling your head to his chest as he carefully strokes your hair.

“Talk to me, Y/N. What’s going on?” He asks carefully, scared to shatter your resolve completely.

“Do you actually think I’m a slut? Or that I’m annoying?” You ask, voice shaky and quiet, hardly above a whisper.

“What? Did I say that?” You nod, a shaky hand attempting to wipe at your tears. “No, of course not. It was just a heat of the moment thing, Y/N.” He stops himself from adding more to that statement, suddenly aware of just how harsh he can be. Seungkwan’s hand carefully strokes your hair.

“‘Kay.” You mutter softly, breaths getting deeper as you start to give into your fatigue.

“I’ll lay off on the degradation. I guess we need to sit down and talk about this.” Seungkwan sighs softly, suddenly feeling guilty. He knows you love it when he’s mean, but maybe the personal attacks are too much.

“Later, ‘m sleepy.” You mumble. Seungkwan kisses the top of your head, eyes staring blankly at his wall.

“Later, then.” He agrees quietly. You crane your neck up to look at him through half lidded eyes. Seungkwan doesn’t even think about it, he just leans down and kisses you.

It’s so incredibly tender and soft, the way his hand finds your jaw and strokes it softly with his thumb. You’re not together, and maybe the tears that slip down your cheeks at the simple action of a tender kiss is enough of a sign that you should put a stop to whatever this is between you and Seungkwan. Later, though, as you both said.

Seungkwan feels the salt of your tears on his lips, and he pulls away from the kiss to hold you. “I’ve got you, sweetheart. Shh, I’ve got you.” He coos, fingers tangling in your hair, and you get this gut feeling that it’s all fine.

Maybe Boo Seungkwan is something to brag about.

[ashwhowrites]

So excited to see your requests open!!! My first request since I found you!! So I was having a hard time deciding what to ask for and then I thought why not do a dice roller on the prompt list with the categories!

And I got love confessions 7, and then under fluff 11. Honestly it sounds cute as hell! And that’s all, full author control of the set up and what have you.

And clearly I’m very indecisive tonight so I rolled for who to ask for it with, between Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson. And the dice gods decreed Steve and I cannot wait to see what you do with this!

You are chef’s kiss, shining star, ten million fireflies lighting up the world as owlcity fell asleep.

Lol, basically you’re great and your writing is great and thank you so so much for doing requests as much as you do! it really just makes it easier to get through the miasma that is life when I can check here for new goodies on fic days. Your effort is so appreciated babes. XOXO

“I’m going to need you to stop for one second because I just find it so incredibly rude that you think I’m not head over heels in love with your stupid, oblivious ass. Are you a brick? Because you’re dense as fuck.”

“Our kids are gonna be *mwah*!”

A harsh confession

Steve was a helpless romantic who never wanted to give up on his relationship with Nancy. But it was clear she didn't love him and a part of him was scared to admit he didn't love her. They were high school lovers and he figured she'd be the one until the end, simply because it was the easiest outcome.

And then he met someone else, Y/N. He met someone who made him feel things he had never felt with Nancy. It scared the shit out of him. To make matters worse, it was his new coworker. Someone he would always see and spend time with. Then he'd go back to Nancy and try to get Y/N out of his head.

But she never left. She haunted Steve's head and he couldn't escape her. He didn't have the heart to tell Nancy, so he planned to suffer for the rest of his life in a convenient relationship. Nancy had other plans, she fell in love with someone else too, but she wasn't going to stay for Steve. One drunk night and all her feelings came to the surface. Steve was hurt but man was he relieved.

~~~

Steve walked into work as a new man, a bright smile on his face. He was free and that meant he could go for Y/N, the girl he truly wanted.

"What's got you in a good mood?" Robin asked

"Nancy broke up with me," Steve said, but he didn't sound upset about it, and that confused Robin

"Isn't a breakup supposed to be heartbroken and supposed to be crying in your bedroom and not showering for days?"

"I'm not a girl," Steve scoffed, which led Robin to give him a glare and roll her eyes. "It was needed, neither of us was in it anymore," Steve explained.

"Morning, guys," Y/N smiled as she walked through the doors. Steve smiled upon hearing her voice, his stomach fluttering as she walked past him and he inhaled her perfume.

"Morning, Y/N," Robin smiled

They followed her with their eyes until she was out of sight.

"That's why you aren't upset. You got your eye on someone else," Robin teased, nudging Steve with her elbow.

"Yeah, but the question is, does she have her eye on me?" Steve sighed

~~~

Now that Steve was single, he tried to charm Y/N's socks off. It seemed to work, she'd smile and get shy. Sometimes she'd flirt back and it made Steve's head spin.

He felt too nervous to straight out ask if she was interested in him so he hoped his flirting and consistent interest told her how he felt. But were girls ever that easy? Nope.

She liked Steve, of course, she did. He was gorgeous with his sweet eyes, perfect smile, and flowy hair. She had feelings for him the second she met him. But he was with Nancy so she never went for it. Now he is single and seems to flirt with her more than he ever did with Nancy.

Y/N wanted to give in but she was scared to be his rebound. She liked him too much to date him so fresh out of a relationship. She couldn't tell if he was interested in hooking up or interested in being together. She could have asked him but she felt like she would sound way too pushy about it.

She gave it a week or two and Steve never asked her out so she gave up. A random boy she met asked her out and she accepted the date. She wasn't exactly interested in the poor boy but maybe it would make Steve move forward a step.

~

"SHE'S ON A DATE!" Steve screamed as he walked into Robin's bedroom. His hair was a mess from the amount of times he ran his hands through it. He was beyond frustrated and a bit hurt.

"What?" Robin asked

"She's on a fucking date, Robin. Clearly, she doesn't like me," Steve huffed, collapsing on her bed with a dramatic sigh.

"Well, have you thought about asking her on a date?" Robin sighed, already knowing her peaceful night was going to be spent on Steve's feelings.

"Obviously!" Steve groaned

"Okay, did you ever ask her?"

"Well, no,"

"How do you know she doesn't like you if you've never asked her out?" Robin sarcastically smiled

"Because she's currently on a date with a guy," Steve said back in a duh tone.

"It's a date, Steve. She isn't getting married," Robin said as she rolled her eyes, "ask the girl out."

~~~

The next day Steve pulled her aside at work. She was confused but followed him into the back room.

"What's up?"

"How was your date?" Steve asked, he crossed his arms and leaned against the wall

Y/N was surprised he cared to ask, "It was alright. Is that what you wanted to talk about?"

"Will there be another date?" Steve asked. He tried to sound nonchalant but his tone was clearly snippy.

"Being debated," Y/N shrugged.

"Well is he cute?" Steve asked

"Yes, Steve he's cute. What's going on?" Y/N asked

"Just catching up with my friend," Steve shrugged.

Y/N felt her body deflate at the word friend. She rolled her eyes and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" Steve asked, pushing off the wall to follow her

"To work, Steve. This conversation seems to be pointless." She snapped

"Talking to me is pointless?" Steve scoffed

"It seems like it!" Y/N huffed. "I mean we barely have conversations. We flirt and that's it. Now you call me your friend and try to get the inside scoop of my dating life. What do you want from this conversation?"

"I want to know why you went on a date with that guy!" Steve exclaimed

"Because he asked me out!"

"But why would you go when we were...you know flirting," Steve argued

"I'm sorry I didn't know flirting meant we were exclusive. You never said anything about actually liking me!"

"Well, I do!" Steve fought, "I like you and I want to ask you out but it's clear you don't like me that way. I mean you already have dates lined up so I guess I shouldn't waste my time." Steve went for the door but Y/N stood in front of it. Steve looked down at her, it was clear he was angry but didn't want to lose his cool.

"I didn't want to be your rebound!" Y/N admitted

Steve's face softened, "what?"

"You and Nancy just broke up. I've always liked you but I didn't know if you were flirting because you like me or it got your mind off Nancy. And you never did anything more than flirt so I have a feeling it's the second one." Y/N spat, her eyes went into slits as she glared.

“I’m going to need you to stop for one second because I just find it so incredibly rude that you think I’m not head over heels in love with your stupid, oblivious ass. Are you a brick? Because you’re dense as fuck.” Steve laughed with no humor behind it.

"Hey you don't have to be so ru- wait you love me?" Y/N asked, her anger disappeared as shock took over her body.

"I've been in love with you, even when I was with Nancy. I should have gotten to the point and asked you out. But you also never said how you felt!" Steve argued, "But we know how we feel now, so where do you want to go with this?"

Y/N didn't have to think. She closed her eyes and pressed her lips against his. Her hands dove into his hair, it was softer than she ever dreamed. She loved feeling his hair and his lips, she knew she'd never get tired of it.

Steve kissed her back, his arms wrapped around her body. He pressed her against the door and kissed her harder.

The door pushed back against them and they quickly jumped apart. Robin kept pushing open the door until the two came into view.

"Got a job to do lovebirds," Robin said

"Right!" Y/N said, her body felt like it was on fire as she raced out of the door

“Our kids are gonna be *mwah*!” Steve said a dazed smile on his face.

"Oh Lord help me," Robin sighed as she went in the direction Y/N went.

[misotsukiiyeooo]

hopefully this is your first req! but I was wondering if you could do a Seungcheol!smut! where he like see's you having fun at a party with his members then fucks you in one of the members room during the party? I'm not sure this makes sense but...thank you!

Party girl

Pairing:Bf! Choi Seungcheol x F!Reader

WARNINGS: Name-calling (slut+ whore) degradation oral(f receiving) fingering, edging and non-protective sex (be safe out there guys/girls!)

A/N: Hey anon! I understand wym don’t worry😘 I hope you enjoy !!🤍😉 (Rewrite)

Genre: Smut(hint of fluff + crack)

Word count: 11.3k

Synopsis: Seungcheol takes you to his and your friend Hoshi’s party and sees you enjoying yourself a bit too much.

“Princess, are you finished yet?” While fixing your makeup and applying red lipstick, you hear Seungcheol complain that you’re taking 'too long.'

“Hold on, Cheollie!” You adjust your tight black dress and step out of the room, immediately catching Seungcheol's attention as you enter the living room. Although not much was said verbally, the tension was palpable as his hooded eyes scanned you. Practically eye-fucking you as approached you from a distance, slowly closing the gap as he walked toward you.

“You look so gorgeous and sexy in this dress, Princess.” He holds onto your waist looking at your lips or breast that’s very much open for him to see given his height.

“Thank you, Cheol. You’re not so bad yourself.” You sense his smirk as you check him out. Wearing a plain black shirt, jeans, and a leather jacket has never looked this good until now. “Shall we go?” he asked. You nod and take his arm, resting your head against him. He opens the passenger car door for you. “Thanks,” you say as you enter, and he closes the door before getting into the driver's seat.

“Is this Jeonghan's party or Soonyoung's?” you inquire.

“Soonyoung's. You know how much of a party animal he is.” As he starts driving, he can't help but glance at your thighs as your tight dress rides up a bit. He reaches for your thigh, caressing it. He tries to stay calm, but it’s becoming difficult.

“We’re here,” Seungcheol tells you as your excitement about the party grows. He opens your door and takes your hand. “Don’t misbehave,” he warns with a smile. You wink at him as you both enter the loud, booze-smelling party and notice some familiar faces.

“Y/N! MY GIRL!” You recognize the voice immediately, but before you can see the face, someone hugs you tightly. “Soonyoung, you’re hugging me too tightly,” you manage to say as he pulls away, already practically drunk. “I’m sorry, Y/N!” he slurs, grabbing your wrist. “Good to know you could make it, Cheol!” Soonyoung smiles at Seungcheol as he pulls your wrist into the crowd.

You glance at Seungcheol until he nods in approval and mouths that he’s going to be in the kitchen. “Y/N!” Jeonghan and Seungkwan rush over to hug you as you attempt to sit on the couch. “Hi, guys!” you say excitedly, returning their hugs. You then greet Wonwoo and Minghao, who are talking to each other on the couch next to you.

“Y/N, you have to take some shots if we’re going to party!” Jeonghan exclaims, handing you some shots, which you gladly accept, taking four in a row as your friends cheer you on. “Y/N never lets the party get dull,” Minghao notes, and others nod in agreement. You just laugh it off. “Let’s get some more shots!” you scream over the loud music, already feeling the buzz kick in.

“THAT’S MY GIRL!” Soonyoung cheers as he leads you to the kitchen. Upon arriving, both of you drunk and looking for more booze, Joshua comes over from the other side of the island. “Soonyoung, Y/N, the party just started, and you’re both already so drunk…”

“We’re not drunk!” Soonyoung slurs, earning a laugh from Joshua. “It’s nice to see you here, Y/N.” You smile and hug Joshua back, noticing Seungcheol glancing at you while Mingyu talks to him. You brush it off and focus on Joshua.

“You know they mean no harm; they just love Y/N the same way everyone does,” Mingyu tells Seungcheol. He raises an eyebrow at him. “Don’t give that confused look. I know you're annoyed at seeing Y/N talking, hugging, and laughing with—”

“Alright, I get it. No, I’m not annoyed. She’s just excited to see her friends, that’s all,” Seungcheol replies, trying to end the conversation while still glancing at you, laughing with Joshua and now Chan as well.

I’m looking for Y/N now, and I find you dancing away, completely drunk with Chan, in the big crowd of people. I weave my way through the crowd, and when you notice me, you hug me tightly. “Baby, Cheollie, I missed you!” you scream as if I’m not right in front of you. I wrap my arms around your waist as she continues dancing. Chan takes the hint and walks away.

“Oh no… Chan left with the others. Let’s go to them—” I hear you whine, wanting to go with him. I pull you closer to my chest and whisper in your ear, “You think I’m going to let go of you that easily?” I chuckle at your big, innocent eyes and take your hand, guiding you upstairs to the closest room, which turns out to be Soonyoung's.

I lock the door behind us and throw you over my shoulder. You let out a whine as I playfully spank your ass and then set you down on the bed, climbing on top of you. “You think I didn’t notice the way you were laughing with Joshua?” I say, looking down at you. You look up at me, confused. “We were just making jokes and having small talk,” you defend yourself, but I cut you off.

“Could’ve fooled me with the way you were giving him those googly eyes.”

“I wasn’t-” I shut you up by slamming my lips onto yours earning a soft moan to escape your lips.

You hold onto my shirt tightly, begging for more and I pull back. “Nope, not right now Princess, you’re not getting what you want that easily.” I pull her dress off, revealing her breasts.

“I see you didn’t wear a bra..you wanted me to do this huh? You little slut.” You moan as he takes one of your breasts into his mouth. His hand presses again your clothed clit. “Look at how wet you are and I barely even did anything.” Your cheeks tint pink as you moan under his touch.

“More, please, Cheollie.” You arch your back to feel friction. He slaps your clothed clit earning a whine. “Be a good whore and stop acting up.” He hisses.

He slides your panties down, and you whine as the cold air hits your wetness. “Look at how much of a mess you are for me.” He smirks at you placing his fingers on your clit and rubbing it ever so slowly, teasing you further.

Continuing to tease you, tears well up. “Faster..” You barely let out. Seungcheol kept the same slow pace then quickened it just to slow down again.

More whines escape your lips as Seungcheol just watches you lose your shit. He finally decides you’ve been edged enough and places a finger in, then two having you moan loudly holding onto the sheets.

“Cheol!” You scream as he picks up the paste curling his fingers in you. “What is it, princess? Tell me what you want.” Seungcheol looks at you.

“You…” You let out.

“I don’t understand princess, I need you to be more specific.” You feel overwhelmed with all this pleasure. “I need you to…fuck me.” As the words escape your lips, you feel him pull his fingers away.

You now feel empty, and you see him lowering his head, oh god. He licks your clit, then licks your entrance until his tongue enters you. He works his tongue ever so skillfully.

You can’t help but moan loudly and grab his hair, pulling it for more. He understood what you wanted and played with your clit with his fingers while eating you out.

“You like that?” He smirks as he continues, all you can do is moan. Feeling a tightness in your stomach, you know you’re close.

“Seungcheol I’m-”

“Come for me, pretty. Let me taste how good you are.” With that, you release in an instant, legs shaking, breathing heavy. He makes sure there’s no mess licking you clean.

“So good princess.” He pulls down his pants, getting completely undressed and before you’re able to catch your breath he pushes himself in your now swollen cunt.

He grunts, “You’re so tight for me, I can’t get enough of you.” He fastens his pace leaning down and kissing you, leaving dark hickeys around your neck and chest as you scratch his back.

You're both so close, Seungcheol notices as you tighten around him. “You feel so good in me.” You stutter your words and that was all it took for him to shoot his warm liquid into you.

A few seconds afterward, you come while he rides out his high slowing the pace a bit. He falls onto you, hair sweaty after all he’s done. He doesn’t pull out yet; still catching your breaths.

Finally pulling out he kisses your lips. “I love you, Pretty.” Returning the words weakly. He comes back from Soonyoung’s bathroom with a towel, cleaning you up then laying down next to you.

The music is still playing downstairs, but both of you are too tired to go down and join the party again. “Do you think Soonyoung would mind if we slept in his bed?” you ask, feeling exhausted. “No, he’s probably too drunk to even notice.” He hugs you as you lay down on him and drifts off to sleep.

The following morning, I woke up and glanced over at Y/N, who was still asleep. I put on my clothes and opened the door to exit, only to find someone waiting outside. Soonyoung was leaning against the door and fell back when I opened it. “Holy shit! Why the hell were you leaning on the door?” I laughed as he rubbed his head.

“Why am I leaning on my door? WHY AM I LEANING ON MY DOOR?! WHY WERE YOU IN MY ROOM?!” Soonyoung looked furious, mostly because he had hit his head.

“Well, Y/N and I were tired, so we fell asleep on your bed,” I shrugged, walking away while making sure to lock the door behind me with Soonyoung following closely.

“You could’ve given me a heads-up! I already gave my other rooms to the boys!” he complained as I walked down the stairs, ignoring him and greeting the others who had spent the night.

“Don’t ignore me!” he shouted.

“Alright, Soonyoung, I’m sorry,” I replied, not wanting to deal with his temper, which could change in an instant.

“Come eat breakfast, Soonyoung,” Mingyu called him over, and just like that, his annoyance vanished as he happily walked away. I chuckled at how quickly his mood had shifted.

You wake up to find that no one is in the room. You head to Soonyoung's bathroom and grab the toothbrush he keeps for you during your sleepovers. After freshening up, you make your way downstairs. The noise is lively; you see Jeonghan teasing Seungcheol, Chan laughing with Vernon, Jun talking with Joshua and Minghao, and Mingyu cooking breakfast. Soonyoung is eating, while Wonwoo sits in the corner reading. Just then, Seungkwan approaches you.

"Y/N, you won't believe what happened last night! Soonyoung got so drunk that he ripped off his shirt and started growling at girls, claiming he was a tiger until Mingyu threw him into the pool to sober him up a bit!" Seungkwan shows you the video as you laugh hysterically. Mingyu joins in while Soonyoung pouts.

"That's not nice… You all know how I get when I'm drunk, and you didn't even try to stop me."

"Well, I did try to stop you, which is why I threw you in the water," Mingyu replies. The rest of the group laughs along with you.

Soonyoung hugs you tightly. "They’re being so mean to me, Y/N!" you rub his back, struggling to contain your laughter. "You're laughing too?!? JIHOON, THEY'RE BEING MEAN AGAIN!" He jumps onto Jihoon, who is sitting on the couch. "You're older than me, you know," Jihoon rolls his eyes at Soonyoung's antics.

You laugh even harder and then notice Seungcheol glancing at you with a smile. You smile back and walk over to him, sitting on his lap. "Good morning," you say, and he replies with the same greeting. "You guys are so weird but cute at the same time," Jeonghan comments, and both of you giggle.

"Should we get going?" Seungcheol asks. "Yeah, we don’t want to stay too long or we won’t be able to leave," you reply. "I heard that!" Soonyoung exclaims, and everyone bursts into laughter.

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