#it's still so hard for me to watch him say all this.. lonely.. want to forget 😭 just as bad as lake scene dare I say.. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

luvashli · 7 hours ago

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ESCAPISM PART 3

SYNOPSIS -> You left to find yourself—now they’re the ones chasing. Changed and desperate, Heeseung and Ni-ki want you back, but this time, you make the rules.

PAIRING -> non!idol!ni-ki x fem!reader x non!idol!heeseung

GENRE -> oneshot, smut, romance, drama, love triangle, mature

WARNING -> SMUT (p in v), threesome, unprotected sex, spit, dom!reader, sub!ni-ki, sub!heeseung, powerplay, oral (f), oral (m)…

STARTED -> 2/15/2025

STATUS -> completed

WC -> 11.5k

Note: Not only is this the longest chapter/ story i have ever written but it’s also the very first full smut I’ve ever written, let me know what you think… :)

click here for part 1 & part 2

Masterlist

Change isn’t easy.

Heeseung learns this the hard way, sitting in the sterile office of his therapist, hands clenched into fists on his lap. The clock on the wall ticks endlessly, the air heavy with words he doesn’t know how to say.

“How have you been sleeping?” Dr. Jeon asks, voice gentle, as if she already knows the answer.

Heeseung huffs a humorless laugh, leaning back into the leather couch. “Does it count as sleeping if you wake up every hour?”

Dr. Jeon doesn’t react, simply jotting something down in her notebook. Heeseung wonders what she writes about him. Insomniac. Self-sabotaging. Emotionally stunted.

He already knows all that.

He runs a hand down his face, sighing. “It’s been… quiet,” he admits.

She hums. “Quiet, or lonely?”

His throat tightens.

Lonely. So lonely.

Heeseung doesn’t say it, but she sees through him anyway. He hates how easy he is to read here, in this room, under her knowing gaze. It’s nothing like before, when he could brush things off, pretend he wasn’t falling apart.

Before, there was Y/N.

Before, he had her warmth beside him at night. The sound of her voice filling his apartment, the way she’d roll her eyes at his bad jokes but still laugh anyway.

Before, he was so sure she’d never leave.

And now?

Now, he sits alone in his too-big bed, staring at his ceiling, wondering if she’s sleeping better than him. If she ever thinks about him at all. If she knows how hard he’s trying to be better.

Dr. Jeon‘s voice breaks through his thoughts. “Tell me about her.”

Heeseung swallows.

Where does he even begin?

“She was…” He hesitates, staring at the floor. “She was everything.”

The words taste like regret.

Dr. Jeon waits, watching him closely. Heeseung shifts under her gaze, fingers twitching. “I don’t think I realized how much she meant to me until she was gone.”

Dr. Jeon tilts her head. “And now?”

Now, she’s still everything.

Now, he’s trying to fix himself, but it might be too late.

Now, he can’t stop picturing the way she looked at him the last time they spoke—like he was a stranger.

“I just…” His voice cracks. He rubs at his face. “I don’t want to be the man I was before.”

It’s the closest he’ll ever get to saying I want to be the man she deserves.

Dr. Jeon offers a small nod. “That’s a good place to start.”

But even as Heeseung leaves the session, stepping into the cold evening air, he knows the truth.

But what does it matter if Y/N isn’t here to see it?

No amount of therapy will bring Y/N back if she doesn’t want him anymore.

She’s everywhere and nowhere all at once. In the faint memory of her laugh, in the spaces between his fingers where hers used to fit, in the ache in his chest whenever he reaches for his phone and stops himself from dialing her number.

He wants to tell her.

Wants to prove he’s changed.

Wants to beg for another chance.

But Y/N doesn’t owe him anything.

So he suffers in silence.

---

Ni-ki hates the silence.

Before, his nights were loud—filled with music, laughter, the sound of strangers whispering his name. Distractions. Easy. Thoughtless.

Now?

Now, the quiet is suffocating.

He stares at his phone, scrolling past old messages, old habits, old mistakes. His contact list is filled with names of people he barely remembers—numbers he could dial if he wanted company, if he wanted a warm body beside him.

But he doesn’t. Not anymore.

The hookups stopped after Y/N.

No more hookups, no more meaningless distractions. Just empty nights and a realization that nothing feels right anymore.

Not because she asked him to, not because there was ever a promise between them. But because after her, everything else felt pointless.

At first, he told himself he was fine. That Y/N was just another girl, that what they had was just fun. But then he’d see her in his mind—really see her—laughing, teasing, her lips swollen from his kisses, her body pressed against his.

And suddenly, it wasn’t fun anymore.

She wasn’t just another girl.

And now, it’s too late.

She wasn’t like the others.

She was a slow burn, a fire that built up over time, turning his skin feverish and his mind reckless. She made him feel.

And now, she’s gone.

Ni-ki grips his phone tighter, fighting the urge to text her. He won’t. He can’t. She made her choice, and he has to live with it.

Instead, he shoves his hands into his pockets and walks. Nowhere in particular, just away. From his empty apartment, from the ache in his chest, from the memories he can’t erase.

Maybe if he keeps walking, he’ll stop feeling like a ghost of himself.

Maybe one day, the silence won’t hurt so much.

---

The next few weeks of your life felt like a quiet but powerful rebirth. You woke up every morning with the sunrise, the soft glow of sunlight seeping through the curtains of your newly decorated apartment. It was small, yet cozy, and every item in it was carefully chosen, each piece a reminder of your growth, your independence. Your fingers ran over the warm mug of coffee in your hands, and you smiled softly to yourself as you sipped it, watching the world outside your window.

Your routine had become second nature to you now. You went to the gym every morning, pushing herself harder than ever, feeling the strength of your own body grow with every rep. Your mind, too, was growing. You had learned to embrace the quiet, the solitude, the feeling of your own company without the noise of your past relationships clouding your thoughts. You felt good. And, for the first time in a long time, you felt truly free.

As much as you had learned to embrace your independence, there was still a small part of you that couldn’t quite shake the ache left by Heeseung and Ni-ki. You had moved on, sure, but you couldn’t deny the fact that they were still in the back of your mind, lingering in the corners of your thoughts like an unfinished chapter. But you refused to let that stop you. You were thriving, you she knew that even though they might always be a part of you, they would never define you again.

Today, as you walked through the door of your favorite café, you felt the warmth of familiarity wrap around you like a comfort blanket. You greeted the barista with a smile before sitting at your usual spot by the window. The place was bustling with the hum of quiet chatter, the clinking of coffee cups, and the soft background music. You pulled out your laptop, opening it to get some work done. It was the kind of life you had always wanted – peaceful, centered, and full of small moments that felt meaningful.

You didn’t let yourself linger too long on thoughts of the past. Your focus was on the present. You had a new project in the works, one you were excited about, something that would push your creative boundaries. The glow of productivity filled you, and you quickly immersed yourself in the work. Time flew by without noticing, and soon the afternoon sun was dipping low in the sky.

As the evening approached, you received a text from one of your friends. They had been planning a party at a trendy downtown club for the past few days, and it was finally happening tonight.

“Tonight’s the night, Y/N! Come out and celebrate with us!” the message read. “You need a night out!”

You hesitated for a moment. You hadn’t been out in a while, not like this. But something about the invitation felt right. You deserved a night of fun, of letting loose. The truth was, you was excited. It had been too long since you had felt the heat of a crowded dance floor, the rush of music pulsing through your veins. The last few months had been full of healing and self-reflection, but now, it was time to feel something different—something wild.

So you quickly texted back, “I’m in.”

---

Standing in front of your closet, a deep sigh escaping your lips as you examined the options. The room around was filled with the quiet hum of anticipation. It had been a while since you’d put this much thought into what to wear, but tonight felt different. Tonight wasn’t just another party—it was a step forward, a declaration of how far you’d come.

Your fingers traced over the fabric of a tight black dress, one that accentuated every curve, its simple elegance radiating confidence. Almost feeling the eyes of everyone in the room on you already—on your body, on your energy. You smirked at the reflection. The girl staring back at you wasn’t the same as the one from months ago. This version of yourself was fierce. Self-assured. Powerful. And tonight, she was going to own the room.

The sound of a phone vibrating on the nightstand interrupted your thoughts. After picking it up, another friend’s name lighting up the screen.

“Y/N! You coming to the party tonight or what?” the message read.

You smiled, tapping your fingers across the screen replying, “Yeah, I’m in.”

Still not entirely sure what awaited you at the party. But one thing was for sure—this time, you were in control.

Turning back to finish getting ready, you thought of the two people who would also be at the party, though you had no idea how close they were to each other now. But there was something about tonight, something about being free from the past, that made you curious.

But tonight wasn’t about them, not yet. Tonight was about you reclaiming your own space, enjoying yourself without apologies.

After applying the final touches of makeup, a bold lipstick that matched your mood, and smirking at your reflection one last time, you left your apartment.

Tonight would be yours.

---

The music blasted through the speakers as you stepped into the club, your heels clicking against the marble floor with every confident stride you took. The strobe lights flickered overhead, casting brief, electric shadows that seemed to make the entire room pause for a split second. Your presence was undeniable. Every eye in the club was drawn to you as though the very air shifted when you entered.

You were wearing a tight, black dress that clung to your body in all the right ways. It hugged your waist and flared slightly at the hips, the fabric smooth against your skin, barely concealing the curves of your body. The neckline of the dress dipped low, teasing without revealing too much, just enough to catch the eye. The fabric shimmered under the club lights, drawing attention to your toned figure—your legs, long and smooth, the curve of your hips, the softness of your waist, the way your body seemed to sway with an effortless sensuality as you walked.

Your hair cascaded down in soft waves, the deep, rich color contrasting against your glowing skin. Your eyes, framed with a subtle but striking makeup, scanned the room with the confidence of someone who knew exactly what effect they had. Your lips, painted a bold shade of red, were just daring enough to leave others wondering if they were meant to be kissed.

You weren’t just walking into the club; you were owning it. You moved through the crowd like you were meant to be the center of attention, every man and woman turning their heads as you passed. The whispers and glances followed you, some too obvious to ignore, others hidden behind the shadows of the dance floor.

At the bar, Heeseung and Ni-ki stood side by side, both men caught in the same unexpected moment. They had no idea how to react. It had been months since they’d last seen you, and the sight of you now—this stunning version of yourself, so much more powerful and confident than before—stopped them in their tracks.

Heeseung’s gaze flickered first, his lips parting slightly as his breath caught. He knew he shouldn’t be staring—shouldn’t be thinking the thoughts that were now running wild in his mind. But he couldn’t help it. The woman in front of him wasn’t the girl who had once been caught up in the whirlwind of their toxic relationship. This version of you was something else entirely. You weren’t just beautiful—you were untouchable, exuding a kind of raw, magnetic energy that made his chest tighten. His fingers itched to reach out, to pull you into his arms, but he held himself back. Out of respect. He knew better than to make a move now.

Ni-ki, standing just a few feet away, was in a similar state of disbelief. His thoughts ran wild as he watched you walk across the club, your body moving in a way that left his mouth dry. Damn. The memory of your one-night-stand was still fresh in his mind, but seeing you now, so confident, so poised, made his chest tighten in a different way. You were everything. His eyes followed every inch of you as you made your way to the dance floor, the sway of your hips sending jolts of desire through his body. He knew he shouldn’t be feeling this way—especially with Heeseung so close—but he couldn’t stop himself.

The men exchanged a glance, the unspoken tension between them thick enough to cut through the air. Neither of them said anything, but both knew—tonight wasn’t going to be easy.

You, for your part, weren’t oblivious to the heat of their gazes. You felt the weight of their attention, but it only added to your sense of power. You were the one in control now, and it felt damn good.

You turned your head slightly, your eyes locking with Heeseung’s for just a moment, then flicking to Ni-ki. The subtle shift in your gaze made both men stiffen, a pang of recognition hitting them hard in their chests. Neither one moved closer, though; they both understood the unspoken rule of the night—they would respect your space. But that didn’t stop the fire in their veins, the growing hunger that neither could quench.

You continued your stride, your hips swaying hypnotically, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips as you made your way deeper into the club. The scene was set—you were here, in control, and they were just two players in the game.

---

You were lost in the music, your body swaying to the beat, when a man approached you. His presence was immediate, confident, and his smile was charming. His eyes scanned you from head to toe with a look that could only be described as appreciative, as if he had found exactly what he was looking for.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and smooth, “I’ve been watching you all night, and I have to say, you’ve got some serious energy. How about we dance?”

You paused for a moment, taking in his appearance—a tall, broad-shouldered man with a well-tailored shirt that hugged his frame. He looked good, no doubt. For a brief second, you considered the offer, but the beat of the music pulled you back into the moment. Why not? you thought. You could have some fun.

Without hesitation, you flashed him a smile. “Sure,” you said, your tone playful.

He grinned, stepping closer, guiding you onto the dance floor as the music pulsed through the club. The man’s hands settled on your waist, and you could feel the heat from his body as you moved together. His rhythm was decent, but nothing you hadn’t seen before. You danced with confidence, your body moving freely, but there was a part of you that remained detached.

You glanced back at Heeseung and Ni-ki, catching both of their gazes once more. The jealousy in their eyes was unmistakable, but it was different now. There was no possessiveness, no anger—only a quiet understanding, a reluctance to claim what wasn’t theirs to hold. They weren’t rushing over to make their move. They weren’t jumping to dictate what you could or couldn’t do.

That was new. The realization hit you like a slow wave. Both of them had changed. Not just in the way they looked at you, but in the way they seemed to respect your space. It was as if, for the first time, they understood that you weren’t someone to be fought over, but someone to be valued. Someone to be given the freedom to make your own decisions. And even though you felt their presence, you could breathe easier knowing they weren’t going to push you.

You swallowed, a small, appreciative smile crossing your lips. You didn’t need anyone’s validation. You were the one in control now, but the shift in the men—the way they had grown—didn’t go unnoticed. It made you think. Maybe there was hope for them, but only if you were ready to make the call. Only if they kept proving that they weren’t the same boys who had hurt you before.

As the minutes passed, the attraction you had briefly felt started to fade. His touch, while not unwelcome, didn’t stir anything deep within you. The music was still loud, and you could feel the energy around you, but all you could focus on was how much you felt the weight of Heeseung and Ni-ki’s gazes from across the room.

You glanced over your shoulder, locking eyes with Ni-ki first. His expression was unreadable, his gaze steady, but something in his eyes flickered—a brief hint of something you couldn’t quite place. Then your eyes found Heeseung. He stood with his arms crossed, his jaw clenched, watching you with an intensity that made your stomach flip. His eyes weren’t angry, though. They were… questioning.

The weight of their attention pulled at you, but the man’s hand on your waist brought you back to reality. You looked at him, realizing you weren’t interested—not in the way he wanted.

The dance was nice, but it was hollow. Your heart wasn’t in it.

After a few more moments of forced movement, you finally pulled back, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “Hey, I’m going to take a break,” you said, your voice casual, though your insides churned. “Thanks for the dance, though.”

The man raised an eyebrow, surprised, but offered a smooth nod. “Of course,” he said with a grin. “Enjoy yourself.”

You gave him a polite nod and walked away, stepping off the dance floor with a sense of relief. You didn’t look back at him, but the moment you turned your gaze back to where Heeseung and Ni-ki were standing, you caught them watching you. Neither of them moved, but their eyes met yours again, and the tension between them was palpable.

You paused for a moment, feeling the weight of their unspoken words hanging in the air. But this time, you didn’t feel trapped. You didn’t feel like you owed anyone anything, not the man, not Heeseung, and certainly not Ni-ki.

You walked toward the bar, shaking off the remnants of the dance. This was your night. You didn’t need to please anyone, not even yourself. Tonight, you were free to be exactly who you wanted to be.

---

You sat at the bar, your fingers grazing the rim of your glass as you let the cool liquid settle in front of you. The faint hum of music echoed throughout the club, but it was the low murmur of conversation around you that pulled your focus inwards. You were more aware than ever of the gaze that lingered on you from across the room. Heeseung and Ni-ki. The tension between them, the heat in their eyes, was unmistakable.

You could feel their stares on you, even as you kept your gaze fixed downward, swirling the drink in your hand. You weren’t foolish enough to ignore the pull you felt towards them—towards both of them. The problem now was how much you’d changed. How much you had grown. You’d spent months finding yourself, growing into the confident person you now were. The person who didn’t need to be defined by anyone else’s affection, not even by two men you once thought could hold you together.

But still, the pull of desire was there, a fire simmering under your skin as you remembered the passion, the tension, the way your body responded to their touch. A quick glance up from the drink confirmed what you already knew. They were still watching. It was like they couldn’t look away, couldn’t stop themselves from admiring the person you had become.

Your heart twisted at the thought. No more manipulation. No more games. This wasn’t the same dynamic anymore. They had changed—both of them. And so had you. But even though you knew what was best for you, it didn’t stop the temptation to feel wanted, to see them both fall apart for you. They were desperate. They were *whiny*—needing you, craving you in a way that sent warmth curling through your stomach.

And damn, did you love the control it gave you.

The music thudded louder in your ears as you took another slow sip of your drink. The temptation to look over, to meet their gazes, to see if they were still waiting for a signal from you, was almost unbearable. But you held back. You weren’t going to make this easy. Not for them.

Your fingers curled around the glass, tightening, before you finally gave in—just a little. You took a deep breath and raised your eyes.

They were still watching, their eyes locked onto you as if their very existence depended on it. Heeseung, a bit more reserved, but his gaze was hungry, desperate. Ni-ki, the younger one, a little more brazen, his expression full of longing, his hands twitching as if he wanted to reach out but was holding himself back. And as your eyes met theirs, you could almost feel the weight of their desire pressing against you, like a magnetic pull that refused to be ignored.

You stared at them for a beat longer than necessary. Your lips curved up into a small, knowing smile, just enough to tease.

Then, without breaking eye contact, you slowly raised your hand and pointed directly at them.

Both men froze. Their eyes widened. They exchanged a brief, almost imperceptible look between each other, but neither of them moved—not until they saw the slight smirk tugging at the corners of your lips.

That was it. That was all it took. Your simple gesture, your subtle command, had shattered whatever control they thought they had left.

And in that instant, both men broke.

Heeseung stood, his body tense, his breath shallow. He took a step toward you, then another, and another, the space between you closing rapidly. Ni-ki was right behind him, just as desperate, just as hungry.

They rushed toward you with a desperation that both thrilled and overwhelmed you. You watched them, your heart pounding as you felt the heat rise in your chest. You didn’t have to say anything. They had already learned what it meant to follow your lead.

The goosebumps along your skin prickled as they reached you, standing on either side, so close now you could feel the tension in the air between them. It was suffocating in the best way. Your power, your control over the situation, was undeniable.

For a moment, no one moved. The space between you was charged, humming with need, with desperation. They were waiting for you, as if they couldn’t take another breath without you giving them permission.

And that was when it hit you—how far they had both fallen, how much they had changed for you. The men you once thought had nothing to offer you were now completely at your mercy, and it felt good. So good.

This was what you had earned. This was your moment. You weren’t going to let them control you anymore.

Not now.

Not ever.

But you could let them want you. You could make them beg. And, oh, how you loved the idea of that.

You tilted your head slightly, your gaze shifting between them as a slow, deliberate smile spread across your lips. “You both know why you’re here,” you murmured, your voice low, almost taunting.

Heeseung’s chest rose and fell with every breath, his expression tense as if he were holding himself back from doing something he didn’t quite know he should. Ni-ki’s lips parted, and his eyes glittered with something darker, a rawness you hadn’t seen in him before.

Neither man spoke, but their eyes told you everything. They were both waiting. Waiting for you to take control. Waiting for you to make the first move.

And so, you did.

The bass reverberates through the floor as you rise from your seat without a word. You don’t need to say anything— you know they’re watching, know their bodies are already wound tight with anticipation. Your hips sway naturally, deliberately, as you step onto the dancefloor. The air is thick, pulsing with heat and music, but the real tension lies in the space between you and the two men who, despite their best efforts, can’t resist your pull.

Ni-ki and Heeseung share a glance, a fleeting second where restraint crumbles between them. Then, like moths to a flame, they follow.

The crowd parts subtly as you move, eyes catching onto the effortless way your body moves with the music.

The moment you step onto the dancefloor, you can feel the weight of their eyes on you. The bass pulses beneath your feet, the air thick with the scent of sweat, liquor, and electricity. Around you, bodies move in chaotic waves, but you command a different kind of rhythm—one that is slow, deliberate, intoxicating.

You don’t look back to see if they followed. You don’t need to. You know they have.

And then, just as you expected, they’re there.

When you finally slow, positioning yourself in the center of the dance floor, you feel them step into place behind you—one on each side, caging you in without a single touch.

Heeseung’s warmth spreads over your back first, his hands grazing your waist, hesitant at first, but that hesitation crumbles the second you roll your hips back against him. His grip tightens instantly, fingers pressing into the fabric of your dress. He exhales sharply against your ear, the heat of it making you shiver.

Ni-ki doesn’t hesitate at all. He steps in front of you, so close their chests nearly touch, his gaze flickering between your lips and your eyes. “You have no idea what you’re doing to us,” he murmurs, low and breathless.

You smirk, tilting your head slightly. “Oh, I think I do.”

And then you move.

Your body melts into Heeseung’s as you grind against him, slow and teasing. You feel the sharp inhale he takes, the way his grip turns bruising as he tries to control himself. But you don’t let up, rolling your hips deeper, pressing harder.

“Fuck,” Heeseung groans, his fingers digging into your hips as he leans down, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “You’re gonna kill me.”

Ni-ki watches, his jaw clenched, eyes dark as he takes in the sight of your body moving against Heeseung’s. But he doesn’t stay idle for long. His hands slide over your arms before trailing lower, ghosting over your waist before settling firmly on your hips, sandwiching you between them.

“You think you can just do whatever you want, don’t you?” Ni-ki murmurs, voice thick with heat. His lips are dangerously close to yours now.

You tilt your head, lips parting slightly. “I know I can.”

Ni-ki chuckles, low and dark, before leaning in—his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your neck. The featherlight touch sends a shiver down your spine, your breath hitching as he presses a lingering kiss there.

Heeseung’s hands shift, one splaying over your stomach, pressing you further against him. His lips graze your ear again, his voice raspier now. “You love this, don’t you? Having both of us like this?“

You hum, tilting your head to the side to give Ni-ki better access to your neck. “Maybe.”

Ni-ki nips at your skin in response, making you gasp. Heeseung, not to be outdone, tightens his hold and grinds against you, letting you feel just how much you’re affecting him.

The music swells around you, drowning out everything else. They switch positions fluidly—Ni-ki sliding behind you now, his hands wandering, his breath hot against the back of your neck. Heeseung in front of you, his eyes locked onto yours, a challenge in them.

Ni-ki’s lips twitch into a smirk, his hands finding your hips as you both fall back into rhythm, moving together like you’ve done this a hundred times before.

You let your head tilt back against Ni-ki's shoulder, reveling in the feeling of their hands, their heat, their absolute desperation for you.

You’re completely in control. And they both know it.

You let them move with you, the three of you falling into a sensual, intoxicating rhythm. Your bodies press, shift, mold together, moving as one. Heat coils at the base of your spine as hands wander—touching, teasing, claiming.

People are watching. You can feel their gazes, some intrigued, others scandalized, but you don’t care. Let them look. Let them see what it means to be wanted.

Heeseung’s fingers trail up your side, featherlight yet possessive. Ni-ki’s hands tighten, anchoring you between them.

And you?

You smile, loving the newfound feeling of power.

The heat between you and them is unbearable now. Every grind, every whispered breath against flushed skin, every lingering touch has pushed them to the very edge of restraint. Both bulges in their pants undeniable by now, growing with each passing second. The music, the flashing lights, the crowd around you—it all fades into nothing.

You know they’re waiting for you. You can feel it in the way Heeseung’s grip flexes on your waist, in the way Ni-ki’s fingers hesitate against your skin as if fighting every instinct to just take you right here.

But they don’t.

Because they’ve changed.

Because they won’t let this happen unless they know, without a shadow of a doubt, that it’s what you want.

Ni-ki leans in first, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Y/N,” he murmurs, voice strained, “tell us now if you want to stop.“

Heeseung, on the other side of you, breathes just as heavily. “We won’t take another step if you don’t want this.”

You pull back slightly, meeting both of their eyes. Their restraint is obvious—the tight clench of Heeseung’s jaw, the way Ni-ki’s fingers flex like he’s trying to stop himself from pulling you closer.

They’re waiting on you.

You smirk, tilting your head. “Then keep up,” you purr, before slipping out of their hold and striding toward the exit.

The second you step outside, you don’t have to turn to know they’re following.

---

The door to Heeseung’s apartment barely clicks open before Ni-ki pushes forward, his hand firm on your waist as he guides you inside, your bodies colliding in a heated frenzy. His lips crash onto yours without hesitation, kissing you like he’s been starving for you all night. You don’t even have time to catch your breath before you’re melting into him, fingers threading through his hair as he deepens the kiss, tilting his head to claim you fully.

Heeseung steps inside after you, shutting the door with a quiet click. He should feel jealous—maybe even furious—but instead, he feels something entirely different. Something dark and electric curling in his stomach as he watches Ni-ki devour you, as he watches you let him.

You gasp against Ni-ki’s mouth when his hands slide down your sides, gripping the curve of your hips to pull you impossibly closer. Heeseung swallows, his throat dry as he leans against the door, his fingers twitching at his sides. He shouldn’t like this. But he does. God, he does.

Your dress rides up slightly as Ni-ki presses you against the cool wall, his lips trailing from your mouth down to the line of your jaw. You tilt your head back, eyes fluttering closed, giving in to the feeling of Ni-ki’s lips ghosting down your throat. A quiet, breathy sigh leaves your lips, and Heeseung clenches his jaw.

You suddenly peek at him through lidded eyes, a knowing smirk playing on your lips. “Enjoying the view?” you tease, your voice sultry and dripping with amusement.

Heeseung exhales sharply, pushing off the door. He steps forward, slow, deliberate, and when he meets Ni-ki’s gaze over your shoulder, there’s no rivalry—only understanding. Only shared desire.

And Heeseung finally realizes: He doesn’t mind sharing, not when it’s you.

Just as Ni-ki’s lips start trailing lower, you place a firm hand on his chest and push him back. He stumbles slightly, brows knitting together in confusion as he looks at you. Heeseung watches too, standing still, his breath caught in his throat as you straighten yourself up.

“Alright,” you say, smoothing down your dress with slow, deliberate movements, your confidence dripping into every word. “Before we take another step, let’s get one thing clear—I’m in charge tonight.“

Ni-ki’s lips part slightly, still catching his breath from the way he’d had you against the wall just moments ago. Heeseung, on the other hand, simply nods, his gaze locked onto yours like he’s ready to follow every single command you give.

You step forward, your heels clicking softly against the floor as you let your eyes scan over both of them, making sure they understand. You tilt your head. “No touching unless I say so.”

Ni-ki exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair as if trying to compose himself, while Heeseung just bites his lower lip, nodding again, more eagerly this time.

“And no getting jealous.” Your eyes flicker between them, watching as they both exchange a look before quickly nodding again.

Your lips curve into a small, satisfied smile. “Good boys.”

Heeseung audibly exhales, his entire body going tense. Ni-ki, usually the cocky one, swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he fights the urge to reach for you again.

But you aren’t done.

You turn to Heeseung now, stepping into his space, and he immediately straightens up, eyes wide and expectant. You place a hand on his chest, feeling the way his heartbeat pounds against your palm, and you lean in, pressing a soft, fleeting kiss to his lips.

It’s barely a second—just a taste, just a tease—but when you pull back, Heeseung makes the smallest sound.

A whimper.

You feel it in your stomach, the power you have over them both. Heeseung’s eyes are heavy-lidded, his breath shaky, his hands twitching at his sides as if he’s physically restraining himself from reaching for you.

“More,” he murmurs, almost pleading.

You just smirk. “Only if you behave.”

And Heeseung, desperate, nods without hesitation.

You step back slightly, arms crossing over your chest as you eye the two men in front of you. Heeseung’s lips are parted, his breath uneven, while Ni-ki rolls his shoulders back, like he’s trying to keep himself together. But you can see the way they’re both holding back—the tension in their muscles, the way their fingers twitch at their sides, desperate to reach for you.

You let the silence stretch between them, reveling in the power shift, before finally tilting your head. “If you want to touch me…” You trail off, tapping a manicured nail against your chin. “Then you should earn it.”

Ni-ki lifts a brow. “Earn it?”

You smirk. “Get on your knees.”

For a second, neither of them moves. Not out of defiance—but because they’re both stunned.

“You’re joking,” Heeseung finally says, voice a little breathless.

You raise a brow. “Do I look like I’m joking?”

There’s a pause. A heavy, suffocating moment of tension.

And then—Ni-ki moves first.

He drops to his knees without hesitation, his dark eyes locked onto yours. A muscle in his jaw twitches, his usual confidence faltering under the intensity of your gaze. But he doesn’t care. He wants this—wants you.

Heeseung follows a beat later, exhaling sharply through his nose as he lowers himself. He swallows, looking up at you with wide, needy eyes, his fingers curling into fists against his thighs.

You let out a small hum of approval, stepping closer so that they’re kneeling right in front of you, looking up like you’re something to be worshipped.

Ni-ki exhales, licking his lips. “Let me touch you.” His voice is hoarse, lower than usual.

You tilt your head. “That’s not begging, Ni-ki.”

He groans, his hands twitching at his sides. “Please, Y/N,” he murmurs, the rasp in his voice making your stomach tighten. “I need to feel you.”

Heeseung shifts slightly, his lips parting. “Me too,” he says, his voice almost a whisper. “Please.”

You press your lips together, pretending to consider it. You can feel the heat radiating off them, the way they’re barely keeping it together. You reach out, brushing your fingers through Heeseung’s dark hair, making him shudder at the touch.

“You can do better than that,” you muse.

Heeseung’s breath stutters, and then he lets out a soft, desperate whine. “Y/N,” he whispers, shifting on his knees. “Please. Please let me touch you. I’ll be good—I swear.“

Ni-ki exhales sharply, his hands gripping his own thighs like he’s holding himself back from just yanking you forward. “Please, princess,” he murmurs, his voice husky. “I’ll do anything.”

You grin now, reveling in the way they’re completely at your mercy. “Anything?”

They both nod—Ni-ki’s breath ragged, Heeseung’s lips trembling.

You let the moment stretch, making them squirm. Then, finally—you exhale and step back.

“Good boys.”

And just like that, you see them both nearly break.

You watch them—still on their knees, eyes blown wide, hands twitching like they’re holding back everything inside them just for you.

You hum, dragging your fingers along Ni-ki’s jaw, then trailing them over Heeseung’s cheek. They both lean into your touch instantly, like it’s the only thing keeping them sane.

“Since you were both so good for me,” you muse, “I’ll let you touch me now.”

Their sharp inhales fill the space between them, but before they can get ahead of themselves, you lift a single finger.

“But only how I say.”

They nod instantly.

You tilt your head. “Carry me to the bed.”

For a moment, they hesitate—not because they don’t want to, but because they both move at the same time, hands bumping into each other as they reach for you. There’s a flicker of something between them—silent, understanding, but also competitive.

Then Ni-ki moves first, wrapping an arm under your legs while Heeseung supports your back, and together, they lift you effortlessly. You let your head fall back slightly, allowing yourself to revel in the way their strong arms hold you—secure, reverent, desperate.

They carry you to the bed as if you’re something precious, something delicate. But you are anything but delicate.

As soon as you’re placed on the soft sheets, you straighten, looking between them. They’re standing now, both looming over you, waiting—hanging onto your every move.

You smirk, running a slow hand up your thigh, watching the way their gazes follow it like magnets.

“Take off my dress,” you order. “And my shoes. But nothing else.”

A sharp breath from Heeseung. Ni-ki’s jaw clenches.

But they obey.

Ni-ki moves first, fingers reaching for the straps of your dress, sliding them down your shoulders with agonizing slowness. His fingertips ghost over your skin, and you don’t miss the way his breath shudders.

Heeseung’s hands trail down your legs, working on unstrapping your heels, knuckles brushing against your skin as he slides them off, one by one. His fingers are warm, careful—almost worshipping.

The dress pools at your waist now, and Ni-ki glances up at you for permission before sliding it further down. You give a small nod, and he exhales, dragging the fabric over your hips, down your thighs, until it’s nothing but a heap on the floor.

Now, you sit before them—legs crossed, clad only in lace and confidence.

You see it—the way they both freeze, eyes dark and heavy, drinking you in like you’re their last salvation.

You shift slightly, watching their gazes flicker over you.

But before they can move—before they can even think about reaching for you—you raise a finger again.

“That’s enough,” you murmur. “Now… just look.”

A sharp pause.

Ni-ki’s throat bobs. Heeseung’s hands tighten into fists.

And then, they do exactly as they’re told.

They look.

You lean back against the headboard, your legs crossed as you study the two men standing before you. Their chests rise and fall unevenly, their hands twitching at their sides, desperate to reach for you. But you aren’t going to make this easy for them. No, they have to earn it.

“Since you’re both so eager,” you muse, tilting your head, “why don’t you start by showing me how much you really want it?”

Heeseung and Ni-ki exchange a glance, uncertainty flickering in their eyes. The room is thick with tension, the kind that makes the air feel heavier, their skin more sensitive, their breathing more labored.

Your lips curl. “Kiss each other.”

The silence that follows is deafening. Heeseung’s breath hitched, his eyes darting between Ni-ki and you, searching for some kind of confirmation that you’re serious. Ni-ki, on the other hand, lets out a sharp exhale, licking his lips as he studies Heeseung’s reaction. There’s no protest, no outright rejection—just the heavy weight of hesitation settling over them both.

“Or,” you shrug, trailing a slow, teasing finger down the bare skin of your thigh, “you don’t have to. But then, neither of you get to touch me.”

A quiet, unspoken understanding passes between them. It’s a test—a challenge they aren’t willing to fail.

Ni-ki swallows hard, shifting on his feet. Heeseung clenches his jaw.

Then, finally, Heeseung exhales. “Okay.”

Ni-ki nods, as if reassuring himself.

Slowly, Ni-ki reaches out, his fingers curling into the fabric of Heeseung’s shirt. There’s a moment of pause, their breaths mingling in the small space between them. The anticipation alone sends a ripple of something dangerous and thrilling through your veins.

Then, in one swift motion, Ni-ki pulls Heeseung forward.

Their lips meet in a clash of uncertainty and heat. The first contact is tentative, almost questioning, but the moment their mouths move against each other, something shifts. Heeseung sucks in a sharp breath at the unexpected sensation, and Ni-ki, testing the waters, tilts his head slightly, deepening the kiss just enough to pull them further into the moment.

You smirked, heat pooling in your stomach as you watched them melt into each other.

The hesitation is still there, lingering in the way their fingers twitch against fabric, in the sharp inhales between parted lips. But with every passing second, that hesitation begins to unravel—replaced by something neither of them can deny.

They liked it.

The realization hits at the same time.

A quiet, shaky exhale leaves Heeseung’s mouth as Ni-ki’s hand slides up his arm, gripping lightly. Heeseung responds in kind, fingers curling into the hem of Ni-ki’s shirt, pulling him in just a little closer. Their movements are equal, neither leading nor following, just moving together, testing, exploring, discovering.

Your lips parted slightly, amusement flickering in your gaze. “Good boys.”

That simple praise sends a visible shudder through both of them.

Heeseung lets out the softest whimper against Ni-ki’s lips, and the sound sends a jolt of something electric down Ni-ki’s spine. Emboldened, he mirrored the same energy, pressing in just enough to elicit a quiet gasp from Heeseung this time. They both felt it—the shift, the hunger, the desire crackling between them like a slow-burning fire.

They broke apart only when the need for air became unbearable.

Both of them are breathless, pupils blown wide, lips swollen from the exchange.

You slowly uncrossed your legs, dragging your fingers down your collarbone in deliberate, tantalizing strokes. “Now,” you purred, watching them closely, “let’s see if you can follow my next order just as well.”

And judging by the way their bodies were already responding to you, you had no doubt they would.

You let the silence stretch, your gaze trailing lazily over the two breathless men in front of you. Their lips were swollen, their bodies tense, their eyes locked onto yours like you were the only thing that existed.

A slow smirk curled at the corner of your mouth. “Touch each other.”

Heeseung’s breath caught. Ni-ki’s fingers twitched.

Your nails grazed your thigh, just enough to draw their attention. “Make it feel good.”

A muscle in Heeseung’s jaw clenched, his mind visibly working through the command. Ni-ki, on the other hand, exhaled sharply, shifting where he stood, but he didn’t step back. Neither of them did.

Because they wanted this. Maybe more than they were ready to admit.

It was Ni-ki who moved first, his hand lifting hesitantly before pressing against Heeseung’s waist. The touch was light—almost experimental—but it sent a ripple of something electric through both of them. Heeseung inhaled shakily, his body stiff for only a second before his own hands came up, brushing tentatively against Ni-ki’s arms.

You tilted your head, watching intently. “Come on,” you murmured, your voice dripping with expectation. “You can do better than that.”

Ni-ki swallowed hard, his fingers tightening. Heeseung mirrored the motion, his palms sliding up the curve of Ni-ki’s shoulders. Their breathing grew heavier, their touches lingering, testing.

Then, as if something finally clicked, Ni-ki’s hands moved. They trailed over Heeseung’s chest, fingertips dragging over fabric, pressing just enough to make him shudder. Heeseung exhaled sharply, and in response, he let his own hands wander—gliding down Ni-ki’s sides, tracing the shape of his ribs.

A quiet, unspoken challenge passed between them.

Ni-ki’s fingers dipped lower, teasing at Heeseung’s waistline, and Heeseung retaliated by ghosting his touch up the bare skin just beneath Ni-ki’s shirt. A quiet hitch of breath escaped him at the contact.

You bit your lip, your gaze dark with satisfaction. “That’s more like it.”

Something changed in the air.

What started as obedience had shifted into something else entirely.

Ni-ki and Heeseung weren’t just following orders anymore. They were reacting—exploring, pushing boundaries neither of them had considered before. And judging by the way their hands refused to let go, they weren’t stopping anytime soon.

You let the moment stretch, drinking in the sight before you—two men tangled in something neither of them fully understood yet, but neither of them wanted to stop. Their breathing was heavy, their hands still lingering on each other as if unsure whether to pull away or press closer.

A slow, satisfied smile curled across your lips. “Take off your shirts.”

The command settled over them like a slow-burning fuse.

Heeseung blinked, his fingers twitching where they still rested against Ni-ki’s waist. Ni-ki, usually so composed, let out a slow breath, his throat bobbing.

Your gaze darkened. “Do I need to repeat myself?”

That was all it took.

Neither of them spoke. They only exchanged a glance—brief but charged—before moving at the same time.

Fingers grasped fabric, muscles flexing as they pulled their shirts over their heads in one smooth motion. The air between them grew heavier, thick with something unspoken as their shirts hit the floor.

You leaned back against the headboard, letting your gaze trail lazily over them. Bare skin, toned and flushed, chests rising and falling in tandem. You could see the tension in their shoulders, the way their fingers twitched slightly, as if waiting for your next move.

You dragged a slow finger along your collarbone, watching how their eyes followed the movement. Then you tilted your head, your voice soft but laced with authority.

“Now touch me.”

There was no hesitation this time.

Two pairs of hands reached for you at once.

You felt the heat radiating from their bare skin as their hands hovered just above you, waiting for the moment they were allowed to touch. But you weren’t going to give them that satisfaction so easily.

You exhaled slowly, letting the silence stretch, savoring the way their chests rose and fell with restrained anticipation. Then, you tilted your chin up and spoke, your voice soft yet commanding.

“Ask for it.”

Heeseung’s fingers twitched, his breath hitching slightly. Ni-ki licked his lips, his jaw tightening.

You smirked. “If you want to touch me, you need to say it.”

There was a flicker of hesitation between them—pride warring with desire. But you could already see it in their eyes. They wanted this too much to resist.

Heeseung was the first to break, his voice low and rough. “I want to touch you.”

Ni-ki followed, his words slightly more controlled, but no less desperate. “Let me touch you.”

You ran a teasing hand down your own arm, watching the way their gazes tracked the movement hungrily. Then, you let out a satisfied hum.

“Good boys.”

Their bodies tensed at the praise, but before they could react, you leaned forward slightly, your next command slipping from your lips like a promise.

“Use your mouths.”

The room was thick with anticipation, the air charged with something electric. Your command lingered, a promise wrapped in temptation.

Heeseung and Ni-ki hesitated for only a second before moving at the same time, drawn in by the invisible pull between them.

Heeseung was the first to lean in, his breath warm as it ghosted over your skin. He started slow, pressing a soft, deliberate kiss against the curve of your shoulder. Ni-ki followed, mirroring him on the other side, his lips brushing just beneath your jaw.

You exhaled, your fingers curling against the sheets, your satisfaction evident in the way you tilted your head back slightly, exposing more of your neck.

Encouraged, they grew bolder.

Ni-ki’s lips trailed lower, his mouth pressing against your collarbone, lingering there for a moment as if testing how much he was allowed. Heeseung mirrored his movements, his touch just as reverent, yet equally unrestrained. There was no competition now, no fight for dominance—only them moving in perfect sync, learning, exploring, savoring.

You could feel it, the shift between them. What had started as obedience was turning into something more. The careful touches, the way their lips mapped over your skin—it wasn’t just for you anymore.

They liked this.

You could feel it in the way their breaths grew heavier, in the way their hands hovered near your waist, unsure if they were allowed to touch more. You could hear it in the barely-there sounds they let slip, low and unguarded.

You smirked, your fingers lifting to tangle lightly in Heeseung’s hair, then in Ni-ki’s, pulling just enough to make them pause. Their eyes met yours, dazed, wanting.

“You’re both doing so well,” you murmured, your voice smooth, dripping with satisfaction.

The praise sent a visible shudder through them both.

Your breath hitched as Heeseung’s gaze locked with yours, his eyes dark with anticipation. The tension between them was thick, palpable, and you could feel it swirling around you, pulling you in. Without a word, you moved closer, your fingers brushing over the side of his face, your hand gently cupping his jaw.

Heeseung's eyes fluttered shut for a moment as he leaned into your touch, his lips parted slightly. Your thumb traced the line of his lips, feeling the heat radiating from him. You could see the barely-contained desire in his expression, the way his chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. Your heart raced, but you weren’t in a hurry—you wanted to savor this.

Slowly, you guided his face closer to yours, your fingers gripping his jaw just firmly enough to pull him into you. You felt him hesitate, just for a moment, before he closed the distance, his lips meeting yours with a gentle yet urgent pressure.

The kiss was slow at first, tender, as if you were both testing the waters. You let out a soft sigh against his lips, and Heeseung deepened it just slightly, his hand coming up to rest on your waist. It was an exploration, a careful exchange of desire and need.

But you weren’t done yet. As the kiss deepened, you turned your attention to Ni-ki, who had been watching you intently, his body tense with a mix of impatience and desire. You tilted your head, your eyes locking with his, and with a subtle, commanding gesture, you placed your hand on the back of his head, gently guiding his face downwards.

Ni-ki didn’t pull away, but instead leaned into your touch, his breath catching as he felt the pressure of your fingers on his skin. Slowly, he allowed himself to be guided, his mouth moving lower, his lips brushing against your thighs as you kept your grip steady.

Your heart raced at the sensation of both of them so close, so present. Heeseung’s lips were soft against yours, deepening the kiss with a mix of hunger and restraint, while Ni-ki’s breath ghosted over your skin, the warmth of him radiating through you as he followed your lead.

The kiss between you and Heeseung grew more heated, the intensity rising with every passing second. You could feel the pulse of desire between you, a raw, electric connection. At the same time, Ni-ki’s touch against your still clothed cunt sent a shiver down your spine, the combination of the two driving your senses wild.

As the kiss broke, you pulled back just enough to look into Heeseung’s eyes, your fingers still resting on his face. He was breathing heavily, his lips slightly swollen, and one could see the mix of longing and frustration in his gaze. You smiled, your voice soft but commanding, "You both wanted this... Now show me just how much."

And just like the Ni-ki rushes to push your panties down your thighs, the lack of fabric against your sensitive cunt rips a guttural moan from your throat.

They both came to a halt after hearing the noise.

It was almost too much. The way your voice, quiet but dripping with heat, seemed to vibrate through the space, making their hearts race and their breaths quicken. Your fingers gripped the fabric of the sheets beneath you, the sound of it brushing against the bed mingling with your breathless sighs, sending a jolt of raw need through both of them.

Ni-ki’s hand tightened into a fist at his side, his knuckles white. His lips parted, as if he were struggling to hold back, his entire body wound tight with the need to move. Heeseung’s gaze was just as intense, his lips pressed in a thin line, eyes dark with the strain of keeping control.

You met Ni-ki's gaze, voice low and commanding, "Go ahead, I want to see what you can do."

As soon as the words slip past your lips, Ni-ki pushes his head in between your legs and this time you physically can't stop yourself from bucking your hips into his touch.

"Heeseung continue", you hiss through gritted teeth only to choke on your words as soon as Ni-ki licks a long stripe over the entirety of your cunt, savoring every drop landing on his tongue like it's the sweetest meal he's ever tasted.

Heeseung’s gaze flickered between Ni-ki and you, his breath shallow as he watched Ni-ki’s every movement. Heeseung’s body ached to be closer, to stake his claim in the space between them. The sight of Ni-ki inching closer to you only ignited something deeper within him, something primal.

But then he remembered the rules for tonight.

Without a word, Heeseung cupped your face in his hands, his thumb brushing over your jaw. Your eyes met his for a split second, and that was all he needed. He closed the distance between you, kissing you with a hunger he could no longer control.

Ni-ki doesn’t even notices Heeseungs eagerness, to occupied with losing himself in your taste. "F-Fuck", he grunts and digs his fingers deeper into the skin of your ass cheeks, hating himself for losing his composure but to his luck your way too fucked out already to take notice of his little outburst.

Heeseungs takes this as a signal to make his move by making your tits his new territory. He looks at you with the biggest puppy eyes, pleading to finally be allowed to touch you, claim you, taste you more. If only you’d allow him to take of that lacy bra he wanted to rip off all night.

And the moment your eyes lock and you nod at him, he rips it of and attaches his mouth to your hard and perky nipples.

You long lost control of yourself as moan after moan follows each breathless gasp for air and high pitched whimper of both their names.

Yet again, Ni-ki doesn't give you enough time to catch a breath of air by sucking your clit into his mouth, applying just enough pressure on your sensitive clit with his tongue to have you gasping for air.

Heeseung is relentless, careless and sloppy. Loud slurping noises match the actions of his mouth as he licks every spot he can reach, not a single word leaving his lips as he's too busy making sure to leave no spot untouched.

It doesn't take long for you to tip toe around the edge as Ni-ki switches between thrusting his tongue into your tight hole and drawing circles into your needy bundle of nerves.

"C-Close", you suddenly whisper and it's then that Ni-ki realises that he's had his eyes closed the whole time, like some pussy drunk freak.

“Fuck, yes. Make me cum“ you moans. And Ni-ki doesn’t need to be told twice. The second he goes back to pushing his tongue into your tight hole, you feels a wave of relief hit your nerves and before you can even process what's happening, Ni-ki applies just the right amount of pressure on your sensitive clit and easily pushes you over the edge with just those few movements, while Heeseung is still touching and kissing you all over. He even started leaving hickeys all over your neck and collarbones.

You doesn’t know how much time passes until you regains your composure but it's the sound of Heeseung unbuckling his belt which pulls you back into reality.

You pulled back abruptly, your fingers curling around Heeseung’s jaw, forcing him to look at you. Your eyes, once filled with heat, were now sharp, commanding.

"Did I say you could do that?" Your voice was low, dangerous.

Heeseung swallowed hard, his lips still parted, the taste of you lingering on his tongue. He didn’t answer fast enough.

Your grip tightened, your nails pressing into his skin just enough to make him shiver. "I asked you a question, Heeseung."

He hesitated, then shook his head slightly. "No... you didn’t."

A smirk ghosted across your lips, but there was no warmth in it. "Then I guess you’ll have to make up for that mistake."

With a slow, deliberate push, you guided him back, her tone dripping with authority. "Sit down. Now."

After that you continues pulling down his jeans, but stop when you reaches his boxers. As slow as possible you start palming him trough them. And while it didn’t seem like a punishment at first, Heeseung understands now, cause he doesn’t want nothing more than just to be touched by you.

Heeseung bit down on his lower lip, muffling a whimper as his body trembled. Your hands slip under his boxers stroking his hard dick, but still slow and teasing.

His eyes, glossy with unshed tears, flickered upward, searching for mercy. “P-please…” he choked out, voice barely above a whisper.

A low chuckle met his plea. “Oh? Now you’re begging?” Fingers traced the curve of his jaw, tilting his chin up. “You knew there’d be consequences, didn’t you, Heeseung?”

His breath hitched as he nodded, another broken whimper slipping past his lips. He had known. But knowing never made it any easier.

Ni-ki sat perfectly still, his hands clenched into fists on his lap, his body tense with restraint. Heeseung’s soft whimpers filled the room, each one making it harder for him to stay still, to not reach out—to not react.

His jaw tightened as he swallowed the urge to move. He wanted to do something, anything, but he knew better. You hadn’t given him permission.

His gaze flickered toward you, eyes pleading, desperate for instruction. But all he received was a knowing smirk and a simple command:

“Stay.”

So he did. Even as Heeseung trembled beside him, even as his own resolve threatened to crack.

And then finally you pulled away from Heeseung, only to move forward and align your glistening cunt with his cock.

Heeseung who was already overstimulated by now, cried out as you lowered himself painfully slow. When his hard cock reached fully inside of you a loud moan left the both of you.

And with two words Heeseung felt like he could finally breathe again: “Fuck me“.

Heeseung’s hesitation melted away the moment he realized you weren’t stopping him. His grip tightened, his breath coming faster, excitement flickering to life in his darkened eyes.

A low chuckle slipped from his lips—this was what he had been craving. Control. Power. And now that you’d given him a taste, he wanted more.

He moves quickly, almost too eagerly, his cock thrusting into you hard and fast. “Fuck“ Ni-ki moans, sitting right next to you and watching the scene unfold.

Your hand is quick to grab Ni-kis face to pull him closer to your body, your dark eyes roaming his features, expression dripping in the deadly combination of ecstasy and lust.

“Open up“

The command was sharp, leaving no room for hesitation. And there was none. His lips parted instantly, instinctively, his breath hitching just slightly as he held still, waiting for whatever you decided to give him.

You leaned in slowly, letting the anticipation coil between you, before finally letting the saliva drip from your lips into his waiting mouth.

His throat bobbed as he swallowed without question, without complaint.

“Good boy,” you murmured, watching the way his pupils dilated at the praise. He didn’t move, didn’t break eye contact—just waited, ready for whatever you wanted next.

At the same time it feels like Heeseung is hitting every single one of your sweetest spots, the tip of his cock grazing the entrance to your womb with every single one of his movements.

Your voice cut through the moans, firm and unwavering. “Switch.”

Ni-ki moved first—quick, obedient, slipping seamlessly into Heeseung’s position without hesitation. This time you sat down facing the other direction, your ass facing Ni-ki. Heeseung, on the other hand, hesitated for just a second, his jaw tightening as if he wanted to protest. But one sharp look from you had him lowering his gaze and moving, albeit slower, adjusting to his new role.

You pulled him in front of you, while lowering yourself on Ni-ki. It doesn't take him too long to find the perfect rhythm, pulling his cock all the way out of your tight cunt just to thrust himself back inside of you with sharp movements of his hips.

At the same time you guided Heeseungs dick in to your mouth as a reward for being this good to you the last few hours. All you can do is moan on his dick as the feeling of both their cocks filling you up takes over the last bits of your rational thinking. Lee Heeseung and Nishimura Riki are doing soemthing to your body you’ve never experienced before and at this point you don’t even know what to feel or think.

You feel your second orgasm building up and notices how the two men fucking you are also nearly there. So without saying another word, you push your hand between your bodys and start rubbing another set of harsh circles onto your clit.

It takes exactly a minute and the combination of Ni-kis merciless thrusts and Heeseung pushing his cock down your throat with just the right clit stimulation for you to cum all over Ni-kis cock. This time your orgasm feels even more intense, so intense your vission actually darkens for a solid second before turning blurry.

You're so caught up in the sweetness of your own relief, you barely notice the way Ni-kis thrusts start growing sloppy and uncoordinated and without giving it another thought, you lazily reach back to grab a fistful of his hair and pull at the thick strands and just as expected is the pain in his scalp enough to elicit a deep, gutturual moan from him as he cums inside of you.

Finally heaving your full attention Heeseung reaches for your mouth and trusts a few times more before pulling out with a heavy and breathy moan and coming all over your face.

Heavy breathing is the only sound to fill Heeseung's room for the following few minutes, and as the fog of pleasure slowly starts disappearing, you feel like you're finally able to breathe again.

The room was quieter now, the intensity from earlier gradually fading as the atmosphere shifted. You stood before Heeseung and Ni-ki, their gazes following you, not with the same weight of submission as before, but with an unspoken respect.

“Alright,” you said softly, your voice no longer carrying the sharp edge of authority it once did. “We’re back to normal now.”

Heeseung straightened, the tension in his shoulders easing as he finally exhaled, his posture more relaxed than it had been in hours. His eyes met yours with a quiet understanding, a subtle smile tugging at the corners of his lips. The control had returned to its proper balance, and with it, a certain ease between all of you.

Ni-ki shifted, the electric energy that had once surged through him now tempered with calm. He gave a small nod, his gaze not as intense as before but still filled with a hint of admiration. He wasn’t seeking approval anymore; there was something deeper now, a trust that had been forged through everything that had happened.

“Better?” you asked, more out of curiosity than anything.

Heeseung nodded, a small chuckle escaping his lips. “Much better,” he replied, his voice more at ease now. Ni-ki’s agreement came in a quiet murmur, a subtle shift in his demeanor that mirrored the new harmony between all of them.

“You know,” Ni-ki said, breaking the quiet, “we can do this any way you want. Just… don’t make it so heavy next time.”

You smirked slightly, a playful glint in your eye. “I think we all learned something today, didn’t we?” you said, letting the words hang in the air.

Heeseung shot you a teasing look. “Next time, I get to make the rules.”

“Not so fast,” you replied with a soft laugh, feeling the balance settle back into place. The evening had settled into a comfortable quiet, the air lighter now that the tension had dissipated. You sat on the couch, surrounded by Heeseung and Ni-ki, both of them more relaxed than they had been hours ago. The moments of intensity had passed, but the shift in the atmosphere was palpable—there was a newfound understanding between all of you.

“We’ve been through a lot,” you said, voice soft yet steady. You could feel the weight of the day lifting off everyone’s shoulders, a sense of peace spreading through the room.

Ni-ki glanced at Heeseung before speaking up, his tone light but sincere. “I think we’re good now, yeah? It doesn’t feel as… tense anymore.”

Heeseung nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, I agree. We’ve figured things out.” He met your gaze, eyes filled with a mixture of respect and something deeper, a connection that went beyond the dynamics of control.

You smiled, leaning back against the cushions, feeling content with how things had turned out. “This is what it should always be—trust and understanding. We each have our roles, but we’re all in this together.”

The three of you sat in silence for a moment, the quiet comfortable. No longer defined by power struggles or control, the bond between you all had evolved into something more genuine, more real. It wasn’t about dominance or submission anymore; it was about each of you finding your place and respecting each other’s limits, desires, and needs.

Eventually, Heeseung reached over, nudging Ni-ki playfully. “So, what now?”

Ni-ki grinned, the energy that had once been electric now settling into something more playful. “Now? We just… live, I guess.”

You looked at them both, a sense of pride swelling in your chest. “Exactly,” you said. “No rush. Just… live.”

Note: Yeahh… so that just happened… not proofread yet btw

Still let me know how you liked it :)

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bluemantics · 2 days ago

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the art of tending

Keith has a lot of scars. Some are more visible than others, but Lance makes sure each one receives the proper care that it requires. In the morning, as he sweeps into the kitchen with languid stretching, he slides up to the counter beside his love. Ever the early-riser, Keith smiles at him as he scrambles eggs.

“Good morning, Lance.” Keith isn’t one for pet names, which never matters— the way he says Lance is enough. It echoes in the crisp morning air, traveling out through the ajar windows.

It’s too early for words, so Lance cradles Keith’s jawline in his hand. He relishes in the feeling of his wedding band pressing softly against Keith’s scarred cheek for a moment before pressing a kiss into its slight ridges. His husband hums, content.

They linger in mornings, now. And both of them are endlessly thankful for the ability to wake up slowly, together.

Throughout their days on Earth, teaching occupies a large sum of their time. The students at the Garrison are brilliant. Lance has a fondness for one girl in particular, a 16-year-old named Vidhi who loves the simulator and loves pranks even more. He scolds her, of course, in an attempt to not be obvious with his favorites. Still, she knows that she can always come to him. It’s a source of pride for Lance.

As wonderful as they are, they can also be… challenging. Lance is grading papers when Keith storms into his empty classroom at lunchtime. He throws himself into the chair opposite Lance with a drawn-out huff, dramatically leaning forward on the desk.

“Carlo, again?” Lance doesn’t even look up, continuing to work.

“He’s skipping math. I asked him about it, and he said that he’d rather fly, and that he doesn’t like the other kids. In less polite words,” Keith explains, balling up his hand in a fist. “I want to be there for him, I do, but he isn’t ever there for himself. It’s so—“

“Oh, Keith,” Lance clucks his tongue, drawing a glare out of his beloved.

“Don’t do that,” Keith complains. “Just say what you have to say.”

“Carlo is a trouble kid right? Always does what he wants? Kinda a lone wolf?” Lance levels an unimpressed look at Keith.

“Yeah?” Keith raises an eyebrow, clearly confused and frustrated.

“So, he’s like you, babe.” A range of emotions flash over Keith’s face. Indignation morphs into thoughtfulness before settling on realization.

“Oh, shit.” He pushes back his bangs, eyes wide, and looks down at his hands with panic. “How am I supposed to even start with him? He’ll see right through me, and I am not equipped to handle an emotionally unstable kid. This is a horrible—“

Lance grabs Keith’s hand, forcing him to meet his eyes. “This is a wonderful idea. Who better to help him than a person who understands him? Who will treat him like an equal?”

“I don’t know where to begin, Lance,” Keith whispers. Lance rubs his thumb over Keith’s knuckles.

“Yes, you do.” He uses his free hand to turn around the frame on his desk. In it is a picture of the team, all smiling proudly while hugging one another. Lance taps the photo.

“Shiro.” Keith follows his gesture, grabbing the photo and looking at it contemplatively.

“Shiro,” Lance agrees, watching him take that information in. “You don’t have to be perfect, red. God knows Shiro wasn’t— he was just as young as we are now— but if you can do what he did for you… that’s powerful stuff.”

“Yeah,” Keith mumbles, glancing back up at Lance. “Okay, yeah. I can try.”

“I know this is hard,” Lance tells him. “There is no other person who could do this for Carlo, Keith. Not a one. You’ve got everything you need, and if you ever need help, you can always call him. You lived it first. Now pass it on.”

Keith stands abruptly and places the frame down on Lance’s desk, determination set into every muscle of his frame. “I’ll talk to him.” He swivels on his foot, turning to fast-walk out.

“Up-bup-bup! You’re forgetting something!” Lance calls over.

“Oh, yeah.” Keith grins, spins back to his partner, and draws him up into a kiss. It’s as grateful as it is fleeting.

It leaves Lance’s heart fizzing with energy as Keith dashes out, adding a new pep to his grading. Lance is always relieved when he can soothe the pain from Keith’s oldest scars, the ones on his mind.

Eventually, when they turn in for the night, Keith will wince at the pull of his aching muscles. He’ll twist in their bed, trying to get comfortable until Lance finally gestures for him to move in front. Then, with quiet and calming hands, Lance will rub out the soreness from a long day of training and hard work. He makes sure to gently pull aside Keith’s long hair when necessary, lets his fingers skirt over the hard lines of Keith’s back.

Keith will lean into his touch, as always. They’ll talk, voices long and low, about everything. Their classes. Hearing from teammates. A hard workout. An annoying call from family. Even, in their most difficult moments, they might mention missing some aspects of the war.

Those kinds of discussions are only reserved for nighttime. When the air from the windows is chilled, the stars are up instead of around, and Lance’s hands are tracing lines across Keith’s ribs and his shoulders. He maps out every scar from memory, pulls out every memory from each scar.

Over time, Lance will lose his ability to speak, capable of just monosyllabic words.

Keith will notice. He can never stop noticing. His eyes will wander over his shoulder, see his husband’s lids droop, and, with the grace of a much less rugged man, will ease Lance slowly to lie down.

In a matter of seconds, Keith will wrap around Lance. They’ll close their eyes, limbs tangled, hearts thudding slowly in time.

No “I love you” needs to be said when every action, every tender caress and guiding word, leads them to the same place day after day.

#keith kogane #lance mcclain #lance voltron #voltron #klance #vld #vld keith #keith voltron #klance fanfic #bluemanticoncepts #postcanon klance #the art of tending; unraveling and remaking stronger ; loving in every sense of being #i love them #i will be for you what the world was not for me

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hey-august · 3 days ago

Text

🎪 5 of 5 - Quality Time

WC: ~720

Warnings: nsfw, Buggy x GN!reader, 'babe' used as pet name for reader, masturbation - both, mention of edging, idk how to describe this - mention of ignoring needs bc of edging.

A/N: Happy Valentine's to you all! And if this day is not your thing - happy day to you! I had a lot of fun writing these and sharing them daily. Seeing all of your likes, comments, and reblogs make me so glad to know that you enjoy them as well. To those who read and lurk, I'm glad you're having fun too! 🩷🩷🩷

💌 #hey-august valentines 2025

Buggy is always barging his way into your personal space - both physically and mentally. He arrives in a whirlwind of limbs and chatter, intent on crowding you all on his own.

Even if you snap and snarl at the pirate with fire in your eyes, he simply pauses, takes a large step backwards, and continues with what he was doing. If there was a hand on your shoulder, it’s still there. If his voice was too loud, now it’s even louder because he’s further away.

Go ahead, try to brush off the five-fingered appendage. Plug your ears and hum to drown out his nasally voice. It won’t do any good. Buggy will just find his way back in your bubble.

“It’s our bubble now, babe.”

He likes to be near you. That’s all it is.

Sometimes he just wants you nearby. It’s okay if you don’t pay attention, as long as you pay in presence.

The nights get lonely and thoughts get loud when his hands are dirty with grease and gun powder and his eyes are tired from squinting at small gears and springs. You keep Buggy from drowning in the chemical compounds and formulas that flood his mind and spill from his lips. Knowing that you’re sitting on the couch and reading a book that you’ll put down when glass breaks or his mind threatens to crack is soothing enough.

When it’s time for show rehearsals, Buggy doesn’t miss a session. Even if he’s hungover or pissed, like usual, he’ll stay late for you. Yes, he’ll get snippy and he might try to trip you a few times. He’ll threaten to leave, but he never does. You hear the crack in his voice, the one where fear and rejection threaten to escape. Buggy doesn’t want to leave and you don’t want him to either.

When you watch him practice speeches and he gets red-faced and stutters after saying the wrong word, you stay.

When Buggy needs to take a shit mid-conversation, you stay. On the other side of the door. Where you tease and make jokes, asking if he’s fallen in or if a Sea King swam up and ate him. And, of course, you clap when he’s finished.

When you need to shower, Buggy stays. Sometimes it’s because he’s horny, sometimes he’s dirty and it’s the only way you can get him to wash up. But half of the time, he just likes to be near you. He’ll make himself comfortable (one time you came out to a sink full of body parts) and talk to you. It can be hard to make out his voice through the rush of water, but it’s too lonely without the extra sound.

It’s not that Buggy is clingy. Or too talkative. Well, those are true, but it’s more than that.

If Buggy is the sea, then you’re the moon. He’s drawn to you, always reaching for you.

He just likes to be near you.

And sometimes, he just wants to sit and masturbate with you.

Lounging back on either end of the couch, Buggy is lazy about touching himself while watching you. His fingertips glide along the underside of his hardness, like he’s following the path of each pearl that falls from the tip and onto his stomach.

His eyes follow the movement between your legs, but he doesn’t follow your tempo. He might even ask you to slow yourself, just so he can savor this time even more.

There’s a part of Buggy that wants to watch you edge yourself. That imagines you sitting there, touching and rubbing and teasing yourself all day. He wishes you’d make a mess and ruin the couch. That you’d be bucking against your hand and begging him for release.

Please, please, please. I'm hungry, I'm thirsty, I want to cum so badly.

It’s a bit twisted, isn’t it? That you’d willingly ignore your own needs, just to spend time with Buggy. It’s a darker fantasy, one that he pretends to ignore while you get closer and closer to your climax.

Your chest rises and falls, your wrist pops but you don’t stop, your legs stiffen, and you look at Buggy. And you drown in that sea of ecstasy.

When you finally surface and can breathe again, both of you are dripping with affection.

#buggy smut #buggy x reader #buggy the clown x reader #buggy the clown #buggy x you #x reader #buggy op #opla buggy #one piece buggy #buggy the clown smut #one piece smut #hey-august buggy short stories #hey-august valentines 2025

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alba1221141 · 7 hours ago

Text

Mary Janes

.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.☁︎

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵

Jinx

The whole damn week feels like I'm walking through some dreamscape, like I’m caught between the fragments of a memory I can’t quite reach, but it’s all so damn sweet. Y/N’s hand, her fingers threading through mine, is the only thing grounding me.

It’s like we’re both floating, but somehow still tethered to each other by something—something warm, something soft, something real.

Everyone knows.

Everyone fucking knows.

And it’s... It’s different now.

It’s freeing. Like there’s no more hiding, no more second-guessing every glance or touch. Like I can breathe, really breathe, without the weight of secrets pressing down on me.

I think it’s her laugh that gets to me the most. It's like everything good in the world wrapped up in the sound of it.

It’s a little quiet, like she’s still figuring out how to let herself be loud, but it’s still hers, and I can’t get enough of it.

And I—shit, I think I'm getting soft.

But when her eyes meet mine, I forget how to speak. There’s this look—this look she gives me, like she’s seeing me, all the way down to the fucked-up parts I keep buried. And she’s still here. She’s still mine.

My girl.

We’re in the library, of course, where it’s too quiet and too crowded all at once, but it doesn’t matter.

I’m leaning against a table, watching her as she flips through some bullshit textbook, and all I can think about is the way her lips curve when she reads, the way she chews on her pen like she’s too caught up in her thoughts to notice.

I lean in, my voice barely a whisper, but she hears it, always. “You look fucking cute when you concentrate,” I murmur, my fingers grazing her wrist. She jumps, startled, but then she smiles.

That smile. God, it lights me up from the inside out, and I can’t help but lean in to kiss her, right there in the middle of this boring-ass library.

When we break apart, she’s blushing, and I can’t help but chuckle at how easy it is to fluster her.

"Shut up," she mumbles, but her voice is all soft and sweet, and she’s looking down at her hands, still holding her damn textbook like it’s the most important thing in the room.

“No, really,” I press, “You’re all fucking cute and smart and perfect, and I can’t get enough of you.”

She ducks her head, but I can see her trying to fight the smile. And that—that—is all I need.

She’s here. We’re here. And it’s all soft kisses and stolen glances in between the chaos of school, like we’re living in a world where nothing else matters but the way our fingers fit together.

Y/N’s laughter bubbles up again, and I feel it in my chest, spreading like a fire I never want to put out. “I love you,” she says, like she’s telling me the weather, like it’s the simplest truth in the world.

And I—fuck, I think I’m a goner.

I’m grinning like an idiot, my heart still thudding in my chest from that last kiss, when a voice breaks through the bubble of my little world.

"Ugh. Are you two gonna be like this the whole fucking semester?"

I pull away from Y/N reluctantly, groaning as I look over to see Ekko standing there, arms crossed, smirking like he’s just caught us doing something criminal.

He leans against the bookshelf, raising an eyebrow at us both, clearly unimpressed.

“Oh, come on, Ekko,” I mutter, rolling my eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re still on that bitter, lonely shit.”

He gives me that look, the one that says he’s definitely judging us. "What? I'm just saying," he smirks, "You two are all over each other like some cheesy romance novel. Kinda hard to focus on my own shit with all the heart-eye emojis floating around."

Y/N, still blushing and a little awkward, shoots him a playful glare. "We’re allowed to be happy, Ekko," she says, her voice still carrying that soft, sweet undertone that somehow makes me want to protect her from everything, even Ekko’s mockery.

Ekko raises both hands in mock surrender. "I didn’t say you couldn’t be happy. I’m just saying, some of us enjoy a little less PDA and a little more actual work. You know, the kind of work that doesn’t involve adoring gazes."

“Bite me,” I say with a snort, crossing my arms and leaning back in my seat. "You wish you had someone to adore you like that, huh?"

Ekko chuckles, the sound low and easy, but it’s clear he’s not backing down. “Nah. I’m good. Can’t imagine the level of distraction that’d come with having someone cling to you like that. You two are practically glued at the fucking hip.”

Y/N shoots him a smile, her eyes dancing with that mischievous sparkle that makes me weak in the knees. "Jealous much?"

"Hardly." Ekko shrugs, but there's something almost soft about the way he looks at us, like he’s kinda... warming up to the idea that maybe, just maybe, we’re not total idiots for being like this.

"You two are disgustingly cute," he mutters with a half-grin before shaking his head. "Alright, alright, enjoy your little bubble. Just remember, not everyone’s here for your lovey-dovey bullshit."

Y/N and I share a glance, and I can see her trying not to laugh. I can feel her hand brush mine under the table, and I swear my heart skips a beat.

“I’ll make sure we keep it to a minimum for you,” I tease, winking at her.

“Yeah, sure,” she says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Next time, we’ll tone down the heart-eye looks just for you, Ekko."

Ekko just rolls his eyes dramatically, but I can see the small, approving smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Whatever. You two keep me entertained. Now, back to pretending to do actual schoolwork."

With a final flick of his fingers, he turns and heads off down the aisle, leaving Y/N and me alone again, the tension between us still sweet and electric, like a live wire.

“I can’t believe he’s so rude,” she mutters, but there’s laughter in her voice.

I grin at her, watching her blush under my gaze again. "Don’t worry. He secretly loves it. And you know what? So do I."

She rolls her eyes, but I can see the little smile creeping back up. We’re back in our bubble again, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵

Y/N

The changing room hums with a familiar rhythm, the sound of shoes tapping on the floor, the rustle of fabric, and the soft murmur of voices. It smells faintly of hairspray and sweat, a blend that’s almost comforting in its predictability. Yet, beneath the surface of my routine, I feel something stirring—something that isn’t quite as settled as I’d like it to be.

Cait’s voice slices through the air, a little sharper than usual, carrying a weight I hadn’t anticipated. “So, uh, you and... Jinx. You two really are serious, huh?”

I pause, fingers lingering on the edge of my cheer uniform as I look up. The room seems to still, just for a breath, as if waiting for me to answer. Her words are heavy, but there’s something underneath them—a hesitance, a hesitation I can’t quite place.

And in that moment, I feel the tug of something—protectiveness, maybe? Or worry?

I nod slowly, my gaze dropping to the hem of my skirt, where the fabric feels too tight for comfort. “Yeah. We’re... figuring things out,” I say, my voice steady despite the uncertainty swirling inside me.

Mel, as always, is the voice of calm, her presence a quiet anchor in the storm. “Love is... unpredictable, isn’t it? It’s never quite what we expect, but maybe that’s the beauty of it,” she muses, her words flowing like a soft melody.

But Cait doesn’t seem convinced.

She shifts, a flicker of discomfort passing across her face. “I get it,” she says, but the weight of her voice makes it sound more like a question than a statement. “It’s just... Jinx? She’s... well, she’s different. I don’t know, Y/N. You’ve never really been the type to—”

I know where she’s going with this, and I brace myself. Cait’s protective, and I understand that. But sometimes it feels like she doesn’t see Jinx for who she really is. She sees the chaos, the unpredictability, but not the girl beneath it all—the girl I love.

“I can handle it,” I say, quieter this time, but firm. “I’m not... fragile, Cait.”

Mel’s soft laugh breaks the tension, like a delicate ripple across still water. “Perhaps we all have more strength than we give ourselves credit for.”

Cait sighs, her gaze drifting away as if weighing her thoughts. The moment lingers between us, heavy with unspoken words, until Cait speaks again, her voice softer now, almost tentative. “Okay, okay, I’m not trying to be a buzzkill... but, um, if you really want to show me that you’re serious about this... maybe we could go on a double date? With Vi.” Her eyes flick to mine, guarded but sincere. “If you’d like. No pressure.”

The offer hangs in the air, delicate and uncertain, like a fragile thread between us. I blink, caught off guard by the invitation. Cait... Cait wants to meet me halfway? Wants to understand, maybe? It feels strange, but in the best way possible.

I chew on my lip, my thoughts swirling like the shifting colors of the sky at dusk. “A double date?” I repeat, the words tasting strange on my tongue, as if I’m not quite sure what to make of them.

She shrugs, trying to mask her uncertainty with a nonchalant expression, but I see the way her fingers tug at her hair—a subtle sign of the nerves she’s trying to hide. “Yeah, well, if you want. It’s no big deal.”

Mel smiles softly, a gentle curve of her lips that speaks more than words ever could. “I think it’s a lovely idea, Y/N. A bit of time away from school, a chance to enjoy the simple things.”

“I’ll think about it,” I say, my voice softer than I intend, the words coming out with a careful hesitation. “Thanks, Cait. I’ll let you know.”

Cait doesn’t say anything, but I catch the flicker of something in her eyes—a softening, like she’s been waiting for me to say just that. She nods, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips, before turning back to adjust her uniform in front of the mirror.

Mel, always the voice of grace, adds in a tone that makes everything seem just a little bit brighter, “I think it’ll be lovely, Y/N. A new beginning, perhaps.”

And for a moment, just a fleeting moment, I believe her. I believe that maybe this is a step toward something more—something better. Something simple, something good.

As I take a quiet breath, the room falls into a comfortable rhythm again, the conversation flowing like a gentle stream. But something feels different now, lighter, as though the world is just a little bit easier to navigate.

Maybe it’s because for the first time in a while, I feel like everything might just be okay.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿

Jinx

This place is way too fucking fancy.

Like, what the hell are we doing here? Some overpriced, candle-lit, soft jazz-playing, rich-people bullshit kinda place.

Everything smells like truffle oil and pretentiousness.

The waiter keeps calling me ma’am, and I want to sock him in the jaw just for that. But whatever. This is what we’re doing, apparently.

I tap my fingers on the edge of the table, pretending to study the fancy menu like I’m some sophisticated, high-society queen—except I’m not.

I’m just here because Y/N insisted, and Vi dragged me along. I was honestly just hoping for a cheeseburger, but no, I get this mess.

Truffle oil? What even is that? Sounds like something that should be illegal.

I glance over at Y/N, her face scrunched up like she’s pondering the meaning of life as she stares at the drink menu. Cute. I could literally eat her up right now—metaphorically, of course.

“Y/N,” I tease, voice low enough so only she hears, “If you order some fancy-ass drink with the word infusion in it, I’m gonna lose it. Just get a damn soda, toots”

She glances at me, her lips twitching into a smile like she can’t decide whether to roll her eyes or giggle.

God, I love that. It’s like she’s trying to be all refined, but she’s secretly a little freak with me.

Caitlyn’s over there with Vi, already in some boring conversation about the exquisite bouquet of whatever wine she’s pretending to care about.

Ugh.

Still can't stand Cait. I mean, yeah she is like one of my girls best friends so I do have to act civil, but god is it fucking painful.

Y/N lets out this little laugh when I fake-gag at Caitlyn and Vi’s conversation. I shoot her a wink, like yeah, you get it.

“Just promise me you won’t drink anything that tastes like nail polish remover,” I say, leaning over to whisper in her ear. “The waiter looks like he knows how to make that happen.”

She rolls her eyes at me, but I can see the slight amusement behind it. She knows what I’m about, even when I’m being all extra.

“Promise,” she says, her voice soft, and I’m pretty sure I could live in that sound forever.

Vi raises a brow, cutting into our bubble. “I think we’re all set,” she says, her tone a little more serious than usual. "Caitlyn, are we doing dessert?"

"Of course," Caitlyn responds, as if dessert is some fancy word for noble pursuit. "The tasting menu has a truffle mousse that pairs wonderfully with a Chardonnay."

I can't stop myself from snorting. "A mousse? What, they’re putting truffle oil in everything now? We can’t escape it." I glance at Caitlyn, giving her a playful side-eye. "Not even dessert’s safe, huh?"

She shoots me a look that would kill a lesser person, but I’m too quick for her. She doesn’t know how to handle me. Nobody does.

Vi chuckles, probably just to keep the peace. “I think it’s a good idea,” she says, nudging Caitlyn’s foot under the table. “We’ll be fine.”

Whatever.

Fine. If that’s how they wanna play it, I’ll just make sure Y/N’s enjoying herself. We don’t need fancy food or fake wine to have fun.

Cause as sappy as it sounds, we have eachother and that's all I need.

.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.☁︎

authors note: this isn't the last chapter yet ;)

please like and reblog!

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forshadowing · 1 year ago

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realizing the host's friends consider me an "evil" alter like hmm. well that isn't concerning whatsoever

#duke posting tag #Should I tag this as a vent of sorts? Just in case I suppose #All I said was they need to treat our host with more respect (make him feel included and whatnot)#but finding out they now refuse to speak to me after i said that #and only ever contact us if our host is around #(friends are singlets so. that's a big yikes)#technically it's not my business to involve myself in the host's friends #they're his friends not my friends (as unfortunate as it is)#i mean the host wants me and the others to also be friends with his friends but #kind of hard if said friends actively avoid talking to me #and it's hard for me not to feel protective of our current host #he's too sweet for his own good and people keep treating him crappy #just concerned about the company he's keeping in all honesty #I know it's next to impossible for him and us to make friends so i understand his reluctance to find kinder company #but it's still hard to watch nonetheless #the only silver lining is that I'm awkward with socializing so #it's not necessarily a bad thing the friends won't talk to me as long as i say i'm around #do i feel a bit lonely? i'm not sure. hard to be lonely if you don't really have experience with friendships #ramble of the day. do i get a badge or title for being the ''evil mean alter''#(wasn't even that mean)

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jarofstyles · 5 months ago

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Haze

Hi bestie babes, here is a best-friends-to-best-friends-with-benefits piece! I am unsure if I'm doing a second part but if I did it'll be later on down the line.

Check out our Patreon for early access and 190+ exclusive writings!

Send us requests in our inbox if the mood strikes you

WC- 8k

warnings- use of marijuana, friends with benefits, biting, daddy kink, soft Dom H hehe

“H? Do you really think I’m pretty?” Y/N’s voice was slightly slurred, a mix of both tired and high as a kite from the joint they’d finished just a bit ago. The cool air flowed in from the window they’d cracked in order for her landlord not to get a call to complain, but she welcomed the chill. She always got a bit hot in her skin when the high hit her. “Don’t lie to me. Give it to me straight.

She loved smoking, sure, but she hated how it made her mind think about things she had purposely been putting off. Like her awful fucking dating life and how stupidly lonely she was.

Harry sat next to her on the sofa, his legs spread in an obnoxious manspread, his fingers messing with the Rubik’s cube. It wasn’t uncommon for them to smoke together- he was her best friend- but she wanted his opinion. The poor man was going to be subject to her insecurity.

Her string of bad dating experiences lately had made it hard to believe it wasn’t a her problem.

"Pretty? Babe, you're beautiful. Come off it." he mumbled, eyes still on the puzzle game. He was in that fluid mindset, neither here nor there. His reassurance felt nice but at the same time, a little vague. Her face contorted in a frown as she looked over at him. He was still baked, so she got it, but still. A little more would be nice.

“You have to say that. You’re my best friend. Tell me honestly, H. What is.. what is wrong with me? Because I don’t know how someone can go on so many bad dates and it not be a them problem.” It had been plaguing her the whole time and harshing the high. The words needed to come out. “I’m the common denominator.”

Finally, he put the Rubik's cube down and turned to face her fully, his gaze locked on hers. Sure, he was dazed from the weed, but he wanted to be sincere with her once he had heard how she had actually been a bit torn up from it. As hard as she tried, it wasn’t easy for her to hide her emotions from him. Even high Harry could see past the playful quips she had made lately. It had only been a matter of time before she had asked him about it and in his opinion, it was bullshit. There was nothing wrong with her at all. Y/N was amazing, but it was only natural to become a little insecure when someone had the string of bad luck like she had.

"Y/N, there's absolutely nothing wrong with you. I'm being completely honest with you, I swear. It's not you, it's them.” He winced knowing how cheesy it sounded but it couldn’t really be helped at the moment. “You're a fuckin’ amazing, smart, beautiful, funny, talented, kind person... I could list off all your good qualities cause there’s loads of ‘em, but m’high and can't think straight enough right now t’give you the fancier words like… exuberant? Pretty sure that one’s right ."

Y/N let out a little laugh. She could hear it in the low tone of his voice and how it seemed to take him longer than normal to say things when he was stoned and trying his absolute hardest to get that out, but it was a little cute. Too bad it wasn’t enough to get her out of her wallowing.

“Then I’m doomed.” She groaned, sinking into the couch. Her hands came up to cover her face, a tired sound leaving her as she tried to reset. “Dude, do you know how entirely and overwhelmingly exhausting it is? And don’t you dare call me dramatic.” Her eye peeped up at him before she fell back into a huff. “I know you get sex on tap but for the rest of us normal folks, it’s like a war zone out there.”

Harry snickefed at her little quip as he watched her sink into the couch. Letting out a sigh as he really thought about it though, a flicker of understanding crossing his face. "I understand how you feel, trust me. It's not easy for anyone. Although I have to admit, I can't exactly relate to your dating struggles, not really. I just happen to be lucky enough to have a very dedicated fanbase."

He was joking but… not really. He always teased her about this. The women who tended to hang out around the garage or try to get near him after hours to ride him in the cars that he just fixed… It wasn't hard for him to get what he wanted. Being good looking, tattooed, solid and single, it got you a lot of places, and a lot of ass. If only she could relate.

“Yeah, yeah. Slut.” She grumbled lightheartedly, kicking her foot against his thigh. It wasn’t fair it was as toned as it was. “You’re a mechanic and you’ve got all the rich soccer moms throwing themselves at you for a romp in the backseat while their husbands are at work. That’s nice and all, but the dating pool for us commoners is abysmal at best.”

Shooting him a glare, she grabbed the bag of goldfish shaped crackers and popped some into her mouth. “At this point I’d be fine with a friends-with-benefits sorta thing- but god damn it, I just want someone to love me at some point.” There was a moment of silence before she cleared her throat. They didn’t really discuss their sex lives and stuff often so she took his silence as one of not knowing what to say- which was fair. She was sorta dumping this all on him. In the grand scheme of things it wasn’t that insane. Everyone went through shit like this. “Sorry. I don’t mean to actually be dramatic this time.”

Harry shook his head at her remark, giving her a reassuring smile that had his eyes crinkling at the corners. He locked his gaze on her face as he listened to her speak, his expression softening with understanding instead of the smug joking he was giving off before. "Hey, s’alright babe. You're not being dramatic. It's how you feel, and I understand that. Everyone deserves love, and I have no doubt you'll find it."

He paused for a moment, considering his next words carefully. When he spoke again, his voice low and sincere as he knocked his hand against her thigh to get her to look at him.

"Y/N... can I ask you somethin’? And don’t make it weird.” He warned, making her unsure what the hell he could be asking.

Brushing the hair out of her eyes, she turned to look back at him with a questioning look on her face. “Sure. What’s up?”

Harry seemed to hesitate for a moment, unsure whether he should ask or not. It would most definitely change their dynamic if she was offended or freaked out by it, but regardless he felt like it it was something he knew he had to ask. He shifted on the couch, turning to face her fully, taking a deep breath and letting his gaze lock on hers before speaking.

"Y’know how you were saying how you're open to a friends with benefits thing? And how you're tired of being alone?"

“Yeah…. I literally said it like, two second ago.” She replied, voice slow and drawn out. She knew she was foggy, but damn. Of course she didn’t want to draw conclusions but she had to wonder why he would be bringing that up again. Her heart beat a little harder as she narrowed her eyes at him. “Why?”

His gaze remained steady on hers, his expression unreadable. He took a moment before speaking again, his voice low and slightly hoarse. Of course he wanted to be careful with his words, in the off chance this could offend her but he knew that he’d kick himself for not asking if he avoided it. He took a deep breath before asking the question.

"I was wondering... if you'd be interested in having an arrangement like that... with me."

Blinking rapidly, she had to be sure she wasn’t just hearing things. Usually she wasn’t the type to have hallucinations when high, but she didn’t know if he would ever actually suggest that. “Uh.. can you repeat that?”

Harry smiled softly as he saw her surprise. He knew it was a big ask, but he was committed to the idea now.

Leaning forward, his voice was smooth and deliberate as he repeated his question, this time with more confidence considering she hadn’t completely looked disgusted at the idea.

"I was asking if you'd be interested in having a friend's with benefits arrangement with me. No strings attached, just a... way to fulfill certain needs without the commitment. What would you say to something like that?"

“Yeah, that’s what I thought you said.” The nod was casual, as if that hadn’t just completely freaked her out. Not in a bad way! But in a…. What-the-fuck-my-best-friend-just-asked-me to-casually-hook-up-on-the-regular, sort of way.

“Uh… I’m not saying no, but I have to ask why you’d suggest that? I didn’t think you were attracted to me in the slightest.” It had completely come out of left field. The intent behind complaining wasn’t for him to offer but to get genuine advice from him considering he never seemed to struggle in the dating department.

"Who the hell said I wasn't attracted to you? I’ve always thought you were stunning.” It wasn’t supposed to come off defensively but he had to wonder in the moment if maybe it did. Harry had never once thought of her as anything but mind blowingly gorgeous.

“Okay, but you have to say that. You’re my best friend, like I said before. I just….” Hesitance grew on her face, looking over his own for any sign of joking. If he was, her ego really couldn’t handle another blow. “I really don’t want to be a pity fuck. And I also don’t want to like… no offense to you, I don’t want to sleep with someone who isn’t exclusive with me? Not like in the dating sense but like, I’d ask you not to sleep with anyone else for safety and I don’t know how you’d feel about that.” Maybe she was rambling but thoughts were running rampant in her already overcrowded brain. Asking him not to fuck anyone else felt like an overstep for some reason.

As she spoke, Harry nodded along, listening intently. He understood her hesitation and appreciated the honesty; it was one of the things he had always loved about her- But he certainly didn't want her to feel like a “pity-fuck” either. That was the furthest thing she could be. He could respect her wanting a certain degree of exclusivity, especially for safety. He knew he was a bit of a whore and he wasn’t ashamed of it, but he had full ability and sometimes the wish to be monogamous- more than he expressed. Granted, if it were anyone else he’d probably feel a little suffocated in an ask like that but… It didn’t sound so bad when it came to Y/N.

"I get it," he said, nodding in agreement. Reaching out and placing a hand on her knee, his touch warm and gentle, he tried his best to reassure her. "I wouldn't suggest it if I didn't find you attractive, Y/N. It's not about pity, it's about wanting a connection with someone I know and trust. And it’s not like it isn’t a convenience for me, too. No awkward leaving afterward, no like… ‘here I’ll get you a cab’ or saying no to a sleepover. We’ve slept in the same bed loads of times and you know I love a cuddle..”

Sharpening her gaze on him, she tilted her head. “Is this because you wanna do some crazy kinky stuff? Cause I’m open but I dunno how crazy I’ll get.” She was kind of kidding…. But kinda not. There were her own things she wanted to explore, but she didn’t want to be a lab rat.

Harry's eyebrows raised at her question, slightly taken aback. He couldn't help but laugh lightly at her tone, but there was also a hint of genuine interest in his reply.

"You really think I'm into kink, huh? Some sort of freak in the sheets?” Wiggling his brows, he teased her. It wasn’t as if it wasn’t obvious that he was a bit of a frequent fucker, but he didn’t have much shame in that. It wasn’t a kiss and tell sort of situation, but he wasn’t shy about letting her know he’d had a lovely night the day prior when need be. “Well, maybe. But no, that's not the only reason..." He let out a breath, a smirk on his lips. "But I'd loveeee to find out what you'd be open to, if we did this."

“Nope, you first, casanova.” She bounced in her seat, getting closer. Her nosy tendencies took precedence over everything else, it appeared. Getting to know more about him that was was enticing and she couldn’t hold herself back. “What's the crazy stuff you’re into? C’mon, we never talk about this stuff.”

Harry was open about the fact he had a healthy supply of offers and hookups but she had stopped him a few times from giving details. Mostly for her sake, so she didn’t see him as some sort of deviant- even if he was. Now, though, knowing she was potentially someone who could experience said things? Her curiosity was killing the cat. Her cat. Metaphorically speaking.

The man’s lips curled into a small smile as he saw her eager expression. He leaned back on the sofa, his arm stretched out behind her. He was throughly enjoying her nosiness- maybe for the first time- considering it gave him the perfect opportunity to tease her a bit more. "Oh, where do I even start... I have quite a few kinks, darling. But I have a feeling you'd like to hear about a certain one..."

“Okay… so tell me.” She rolled her hand to motion to him to continue. Patience really wasn’t Y/N’s strong suit and it was beginning to show, even if the smoking had initially relaxed her. “Let’s hear it. I want to know what I’d be getting myself into, besides greasy hands and the smell of motor oil.” Though she’d never admit how she’d learned to enjoy it, too.

He couldn’t lie and say he wasn't enjoying how intently she was looking at him, how her gaze was fixed on his every move. He leaned forward just a bit, his voice dropping lower as he continued* "Alright, y’wanted to know, you'll get to know like the princess y’are. But keep in mind, I've got a few of these, not just one." The taunting made her give him that impatient look he was used to, snickering under his breath as she bore her eyes into him.

“Okay. Lay them on me, tell me!” She huffed, knocking his knee. “You’re edging for no reason. I already know that one because you’re gross. Tell me the real stuff.”

Raising a brow at her eagerness, he leaned back again with his arm still draped behind her. He began speaking again, letting his voice drop a bit. "Alright, just a little tiny taste then… See if you can handle it. I've got a thing for power dynamics, darling. Particularly, I like to be in control."

“Mm… I could have guessed that. You’ve got the whole smolder thing, and you do the…” Y/N put her hand behind his neck before pulling it off. “Then you do the neck holding thing when we go out. You like to control where people go. Boss me around. So I had a clue. Give me one I wouldn’t expect.”

The perceptive observations hadn’t been something he expected, but it did amuse him. He reached up to brush a strand of her hair away from her face, his fingers lingering against her skin.

"You know me too well, little dove." He muttered, his eyes sparkling with mischief. This was a conversation he was enjoying. Not one he anticipated tonight, no, but one that had him on the edge of his metaphorical seat. His real seat was leaned against the back of the couch. "Okay then... how about this? I also enjoy a bit of exhibitionism. Kinky enough for you?"

“Oh?” She sat with it for a moment. “Actually… that makes sense too. You’re understated in public but you still get a lot of attention. Behind the scenes you’re an attention whore and stuff, which I know first hand but… yeah.” She huffed. “Damn. Can’t believe I didn’t guess that sorta stuff.” Another question popped into her mind. “Wait… what have you done with that? Are you talking like. Dressing rooms, cars? Or in front of people for real?”

Harry grinned as she continued to analyze his kinks, watching her as she went through it in her head. Had she thought about it before on her own? That wasn’t something he’d mind, in all honest. He chortled at her question and leaned back, his arm wrapped behind her. He didn't want to reveal too much but he was enjoying this back and forth. Maybe a tad bit more than he should be.

"You've got good instincts, darling. Yes, I enjoy exhibitionism. And yeah, both dressing rooms and cars are on the list. But not just that... I like a bit more of an audience sometimes. But that’s a different conversation. I can explain why I like it, though. Since you seem to be so curious.”

“Do tell.” Yes, maybe she was a little nosy but… it was slightly arousing. Harry was interesting to her before but now, with the idea of her being in those scenarios, she felt an elevated desperation to know.

Harry noticed how her eyes darkened with excitement as she listened to him and it made a feeling of satisfaction twist in his gut. Having an effect on her was something he hadn’t realized he’d enjoy so much, but now that he had a taste he wanted to see more of it. He shifted a bit closer, his voice dropping into a low whisper. "I like the thrill of being caught. The danger of it, y’know? I love that it’s risky, that your adrenaline pump and you’ve got t’be quiet. Or you don’t, and you have people see- when it’s appropriate.” That was something he’d experienced a few times. “I’ve had it happen before. Maybe I could arrange that, if that’s something you’d want. People watching, not touching, just watching me touch you... and I’d touch you plenty, darling."

“I think um, I’d like it” It was hard to talk with how her tongue felt tied. “I’ve not done a lot of it but I think I’d be open to seeing and doing more of it.” Her voice weakened, feeling him close to her. His cologne was warm and slightly spiced, his fingertips brushing her arm. Y/N had never experienced the sort of thing he was describing. The most she had done was fuck in a car. “Y-Yeah. I think that’s something we could um… try.” She cleared her throat, trying not to show how affected she actually was. It was hard not to. “What other kinks? Anything I wouldn’t guess?”

Harry saw right through her attempts to seem unbothered and he grinned, his hand continuing to lightly brush against her shoulder. He was enjoying the effect he had on her, the more the minutes passed by. It was a brand new side of her that he hadn’t been privy too prior, but now that he had a chance to? He was going to indulge.

"Glad you're up for trying it, darling. And as for other kinks..." He paused for a moment, his gaze trailing over her body before he spoke again in a deeper voice.

"I'm also into a bit of rope bondage, but that’s for another day too. The typical things you’d expect in kink too, the rougher stuff sometimes, but I really like working you up until you can’t take it anymore. Making you desperate, y’know?"

“Ropes?” She swallowed the shock. “Oh. Hm…” it made sense given the other things but for some reason she hadn’t expected him to be into actual ropes. “I’d have thought maybe more handcuffs but you do like being difficult, don’t you?”

It was a joke but it slightly intimidated her. Nothing she wouldn’t try, though. She trusted him to do that sort of thing with her, if they got to it.

Harry hummed at her surprise and leaned a little closer, his hand coming up to her chin to tilt her face towards him. His eyes locked with hers, his tone serious. It was hard to ignore how beautiful she was now that he was allowed to think that way. It was something he’d tried to limit his brain from indulging in before, but knowing he’d have all the rights to be the one to stare and touch her, he felt like a layer had been peeled back.

"Yeah, darling, I like being difficult. And I like being in control. But we'll take it slow, alright?" He saw the hint of intimidation on her face and the small act of rebellion he liked to see in her. He ran his thumb over her bottom lip, her skin hot and soft under his touch. “Nothin’ you don’t want t’do. I’ll make sure you're comfortable. Even if you’re a miserable little brat sometimes.”

“I…” her train of thought was stalled by the tender touch. Harry was… he was being a lot more liberal with his touches. Sometimes he was when he was high in general but this itself had her feeling hot under her skin. There was that intention now that this was slightly more than what friends do. “I can’t lie and say I’m not slightly intimidated by the thought of us doing stuff together. You’ve done a lot more than me.” She admitted meekly.

Harry simpered as he heard her confession and gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He appreciated her honesty, understanding her intimidation. It would be the same for him in her position, but luckily he was going to use his advantage for good. "I know I've done more than you, but that's not a good nor a bad thing. Everyone is experienced in their own way, darling. And that's the point of us doing this... to explore each other, to learn what the other likes." He ran his hand down her arm, his fingers lightly tracing her skin, sending chills across her body.

His fingers curled around her wrist, lightly pulling her up and leading her to straddle his lap. This wasn’t at all where she had expected this night to go but… she couldn’t complain. With her nerves aside, Harry was by far one of the most attractive people she had ever met. There was no way she could turn away the opportunity to feel the way he touched someone romantically.

“You’re really okay not sleeping with anyone else in order to do stuff with me?”

Harry gazed up at her as she straddled his lap, his hands sliding up her thighs, pulling her closer against him. He looked up at her with a mix of desire and affection, appreciating her concern for his boundaries. "I'm absolutely fine with it," he assured her, his voice a low rumble. "I don't want anyone else." His hand came up, gently cupping her jaw. "I want to make you feel good, Y/N. I want to give you all the pleasure you deserve, and I want to be the only one doing it."

Y/N let out a weak sound as his lips pressed against the corner of her mouth. Having him so close was making her feel lightheaded, placing her hands on his shoulders as he tugged her closer to him, chest to chest.

“What do you want to do tonight?” She mumbled, eyes dropping to his lips back up to his eyes. “We don’t have to do like, everything and stuff but… I dunno.” The weed definitely made her aroused.

Harry chuckled softly, his lips just barely grazing the corner of her mouth, teasing her again. Feeling her body against his, her hands on his shoulders, it sent a wave of heat through his body. He doubted she knew that he’d started getting aroused when she started talking about what he’d be into.

"You're cute when you're bashful, darling. And high." He teased, his lips curving into a smirk as he spoke against her skin. "As for what I want to do... I just want to enjoy this moment. Maybe smoke a bit more, later. But mostly I just want to touch you."

“O-okay. You can touch me however you want.” Giving him that opening was bold, but she also knew she needed to just let him take charge. He said he liked to dom, so he would take care of her. Her eyes fluttered closed as she felt soft presses of his lips over her cheek, down to her jaw.

“You smell really good.”

Harry could feel himself holding back the pleased noise. The little compliment was a welcomed one, but he didn’t get them often from her. It was a new part of their dynamic but he couldn’t find himself upset with it. In fact, he was going to do everything he could to get some more out of her. He glanced at her, enjoying the way her eyes closed in response to his touch. Running his nose down the column of her neck, he took a little inhale of her scent. Sugary Sweet. Just like her.

"So do you, darling." He spoke against her skin.

In a test of how she’d react, he let his hands slid under her shirt, his fingers tracing along her bare skin. There was no stiffening, so he continued slowly moving closer to the hem of her bra. His lips continued their path down, leaving behind a trail of tingling sensations and wet marks on her skin.

The shaky exhale was louder than she had wanted, his hot fingertips burning a trail over her skin. He took the permission to heart, tracing the bottom of her bra as his lips moved down her collarbone.

Her breathing hitched as she felt his teeth sink into the skin lightly, a firm sucking making her fingers grip his shoulders tightly and nails dig into him just a bit. “Oh, shit… why does that feel good?”

Harry giggled against her skin as he felt her nails digging into his shoulders, enjoying the fact he was already getting a reaction out of her. He continued to kiss and bite her skin, occasionally sucking on the sensitive parts, marking his territory and drawing out more sounds from her.

"Cause I know what I'm doing, darling." He murmured against her skin before biting her collarbone again, this time a bit rougher.

“Oh my god.” She keened, head falling back as her hand came up to cup the back of his head. Fingers curled in his hair, feeling his mouth mark her up while his hand went under her bra, cupping her in his palms. “Fuck.”

Y/N felt the pulsing between her slick thighs, her sleep shorts riding up as she shuffled closer and pressed his mouth harder against her skin. It had been a while since she’d gotten laid but it was a little embarrassing how quickly he managed to get her to feel completely insane.

The sounds of her keening and breathing and the feeling of her arching into his touch was making his own need for her grow. His lips continued to work her her skin, marking and kissing and doing all the things he wanted because it felt like heaven to have this on tap. He could only imagine how much better their smoking sessions would be, how much more fun sleepovers would be if he got to love her up like this without a second thought.

“H…” she whimpered. Rocking her hips slightly, she rubbed against his bulge she could feel clearly between her thighs. “You’re h-hard already?”

Harry hummed quietly, feeling a thrill as she rubbed against him. His lips curled into a smirk against her skin before he lifted his head up, looking at her with darkened eyes. "Yeah, 'course I am, darling. You have no idea what you do to me, do you?"

Moving his hands back down to her hips, he gripped them tightly to grind himself against her. Give her a taste of just how hard his cock got for her. There was no reason for her to doubt. “You did this, sweet girl. S’all your fault.”

“Oh, shit.” She groaned, giggling at the end as she felt his mouth fall onto her chest. Wet, sloppy kisses were placed on the tender skin as she felt him guide her back and forth, setting a pace for the friction. “I can’t tell if it’s been a long time or if uh… if you’re just really good at this.”

Both. It was absolutely both.

Harry chuckled against her chest, his breath hot against her skin before his smirk widened.

"Mm, I would like to think it's because I'm really good at this," his hands guided her hips, setting a slow, torturous pace. "But maybe also a bit of both. It's been a while, hasn't it?"

“Uh-huh.” She nodded. “9 months.”

Harry raised an eyebrow at her response and tilted his head to the side.

"Nine months? Damn, babe." He murmured, his hands going under her shirt, his fingers tracing up her sides, making her shiver. Getting the reactions from her felt almost as good as her rubbing over his cock. "That's a long time."

“Just didn’t find anyone good enough to let in my bed.” She retorted, using her grip on his head to guide him back to her chest. “Take my shirt off.”

Harry didn't need to be told twice. He quickly pulled her shirt off, throwing it over his shoulder, before his hands came back up to her body, slowly tracing up her stomach, his fingers brushing over her skin. The thought had been there quite a few times over what she’d look like bare, but this was a brand new vision for him. One he absolutely adored.

"Beautiful." He murmured, his gaze wandering over her chest as he took in the sight of her bare skin, his breathing growing a bit heavier.

Her voice interrupted his inspection of her body. “Bra, too, please. Have to bite the bullet.” Despite her nerves that maybe he wouldn’t like what he saw, she felt comfortable with him. Harry wouldn’t ever make her feel bad. That much she knew for certain.

Plus… she wanted to feel more of his mouth.

Harry chuckled softly and nodded, his gaze locking with hers for a moment as he ran his fingers over the straps of her bra, pulling them down over her shoulders.

"You're so beautiful, darling. Don't ever feel nervous around me," his reassurance grounded her, his voice gentle but firm.

He reached behind her back, quickly unclasping her bra and pulling it off, tossing it away. Taking a moment to appreciate the sight in front of him, his eyes lit with desire. “God. You don’t even understand how phenomenal you are, do you? M’a lucky son of a bitch that you’re letting me touch you at all.”

Y/N continued to rub herself against him, feeling flushed at the praise. It was embarrassing that she had a pretty good idea that her sleep shorts were getting soaked, but she was swollen and wet and the motions itself of him between her legs were getting her embarrassing close.

Feeling his mouth kiss over the naked skin, she let out a moan that she hadn’t expected to. He was delicate but demanding, taking what he wanted.

Harry groaned as he felt her rubbing herself harder against him, his hands gripping her hips tightly to guide her movements. He couldn't resist the need building up inside him, the need to make her moan and whimper and squirm beneath him.

"You sound so pretty, darling," The compliment murmured against her skin, his lips traveling down her chest, stopping every so often to leave wet kisses, claiming every inch of skin he could. Selfish, possessive, needy. He wouldn’t deny any three of those allegations should she so choose to label him.

“It’s gonna feel so good when you’re inside of me.” She whispered, almost in awe. He was thick and long and she could feel every inch under her. It was almost intimidating to feel it and know that was going to be inside of her at some point. “But I… we have to wait for that. Wanna do that when we aren’t all… you know.” High. At least the first time they fucked, she wanted to be sober completely. “I think I could get off just like this, though. I feel so good right now.”

Harry nodded, his lips continuing to leave wet kisses on her skin, his hands roaming up her sides as he continued to grind himself against her.

"Impatient, aren't you, darling?" He teased, nipping at her neck before moving his mouth to her ear, whispering in it. "You'll just have to wait for that, though. But...there's always other ways to get us both off, hm?"

“Which way?” She breathed, eager to hear any and all suggestions he had.

Harry held her gaze, his eyes dark and full of desire as he spoke in a low, husky tone.

"Let me show you."

He gently pushed her back until she was laying down, his hands running down her thighs, pushing them apart slowly. Shifting his position, he hovered over her, his body fitting perfectly between her legs. His weight rested on his forearms as he looked down at her, she felt her world right itself from how it had been tipped over.

Y/N hadn’t expected the shift of direction but she liked it. Feeling him on top of her, she felt… delicate. Protected. Even if his gaze was predatory and hot, she knew he was good hands to be in.

She also hadn’t expected his hands to grab her shorts, pulling them off and tossing them to the side- but as soon as her panties were exposed, he settled back between her thighs. It was less of a barrier between them.

Harry hummed in approval as he got a glimpse of her panties, taking a moment to admire the sight before him. "You're so fucking wet, darling. Made a mess of those useless shorts. Panties aren’t much better." He murmured, his eyes roaming over her body before they went back up to her face. "And I fuckin’ love that you're all mine right now."

Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. Grabbing his face, she pulled it back up to her own and kissed him. Taking matters into her own hands, she felt him reciprocate immediately. And god, could the man fucking kiss.

Harry let out a soft curse at her sudden action but didn't hesitate to kiss her back through it all, his lips moving against hers hungrily. He pressed his body closer against hers, trapping her beneath him as his tongue delved into her mouth, greedily tasting and claiming her like he had been teasing the whole time.

“I wish you could fuck me right now.” She whimpered, feeling him rock against her. His cock perfectly pressed against her cunt and their mouths lapping against one another’s, it was heated and desperate. They couldn’t, not right now, but the idea of it had her slick and throbbing. It was unfair how her body was so primed and ready for him but she had to do the right thing. He’d feel so perfect inside of her and she’d be so full and they both knew it. “I wish you were inside me.”

Harry groaned at her words, the sound almost like a growl as he buried his face against her neck, his breathing getting heavier as he heard her whimper. He rocked his hips against her, his own need growing stronger with every second that passed.

"You have no idea how badly I want that, darling. But we can't...not yet." He whispered against her skin, his hands gripping her hips tightly. “I’m plenty patient, though. I’ll wait for you to want it, and then…” the pause was heavy. “Then I’ll give you every fucking thing you’ve ever wanted out of a fuck. Can promise you that.”

“I know. I know.” There was no doubt that he was fully and utterly capable. She swallowed back her desperation, wrapping her legs around his hips to pull them closer. “You just feel so good against me. I never expected this…” she whispered against his mouth. “But I’m so happy you decided to be horny and suggest it.”

Harry laughed, leaning down to press his lips against her neck again, licking at the skin as he continued to move his hips against hers, his body hot and heavy against hers. He lifted his head up slightly, looking down at her with darkened eyes as he took in how she had started to look a little blissed out. Just how he wanted her.

"I didn't expect it either, darling. But... I'm glad I did." He murmured, his fingers caressing her skin as he settled into a slow, steady rhythm. Rubbing back and forth, rocking his clothed cock into the sticky heat of her ruined panties, he knew her scent would be on them and that just sort of did something to him. Her own mark left on him.

Y/N felt the bubbling pleasure in her tummy. Feeling him rutting against her, the softness of his tongue as it brushed against her own, his hand curled around the back of her neck in such a possessive and firm grip, she felt controlled in the best way. Her eyes rolled back as she felt him grind harder against her.

“Fuck, Daddy. That feels so fucking good, feeling you against my cunt.” She purred, keeping herself glued to him. There was a pause of moment but she could feel him twitch against her, the sharp intake of breath as he tried to catch himself. It had been a shot in the dark, but one that hit the bullseye. “You like when I call you that? Does it make you feel good too?”

The reaction was visible. The man liked it more than she could even seem but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to play into it to see just how far it went. “Daddy… daddy…. Dadddy.” She taunted, whispering it against his skin. “You’ll make me cum like this. Just keep grinding into me…. Just like this.”

Harry groaned at her response, his lips moving down to her neck, leaving biting kisses in his path. The honorific had him weak, even more worked up than he had thought he could be in this scenario. Little Y/N was getting bolder by the minute and he fucking adored it. It made him wonder what else he could get out of her.

"You're gonna get it, darling. Jus’ be patient and let me make you feel nice, the way you’ve been wantin’ too." he murmured against her skin, his hips continuing to move against hers, keeping a steady pace. His hand cupped her chin, forcing her to look up at him, his eyes dark and intense as he looked down at her. "Daddy's gonna take such good care of you, Y/N. Don’t ever doubt it."

Harry was hot to the touch, her fingers guiding his face back to kiss her as he ground his cock into her. She could feel how it twitched against her, her legs keeping him close so they could stay glued together. “That feels…” she babbled. “S’good. So good, H. I feel so hot and I’m so fucking wet and I wish there wasn’t anything between us but we gotta be good. So good.” She rambled. It was hard to control what left her mouth. She would call it temporary insanity if he brought it up again outside of their arrangement, but the simple movements were making her lose her goddamn head.

Harry's breathing was getting heavier by the minute, his heart pounding against his chest like they wanted to escape his ribcage as he continued to rock his hips against hers. He felt hot and needy, every fiber of his being screaming to be closer to her, but he held himself back, knowing that they had to at least try to be good. He’d get to sink his cock into that hot cunt another day, make her cum around it and squeeze and milk every drop from his balls into her. That was something he was going to look forward to. But for right now they were testing the waters, and he liked it way more than he thought he would.

"Y’feel so good, darling. So, so fuckin’ good, can barely stand it." He murmured against her lips, letting the praise flow easily off his tongue. It’s what the woman deserved. All these shitty hookups and no one knew how to get to those little itches she couldn’t scratch- but he could read her so easily. Harry knew what she needed. "You're doing so well for me, being so good. Daddy's proud of you."

The last sentence made her whine out loud. Pleasure flowed through her at his praise, wanting more of it. All of it. It had been so long since she had been touched by someone else, and while the last person she had expected to do it was her best friend, she had also never felt this level of desperation.

Harry could feel her body responding to his words, her whimpers and whines making his own desire for her grow even more. He loved knowing that his praise was making her feel good, that she needed to hear his words. He continued to murmur sweet, filthy things in her ear as his body moved against hers, his need for her growing more and more intense with every second.

"That’s my girl, sweetheart. You're doing so well for me, letting me take care of you like this."

He knew it had been a long time for her, felt it in how she kissed. Selfishly he would be glad to be the one she got to take care of her. No one else really deserved it. Maybe he didn’t either, but he cared for her genuinely. He liked her and he wanted the best for her- so that’s what he was going to do.

“M’gonna cum, daddy.” She whispered. “I feel it. You’re getting my clit so perfect each time you move… god, s’so embarrassing to cum dry humping but I forgot how good it feels.” Or maybe it just hadn’t ever felt this good with anyone else. It had been a while, sure, but she hadn’t actually had dry sex with someone since she was sneaking around with her boyfriends back home. Something about it made her know that it had to be a Harry thing, though. That he’s the reason it felt this fucking good and why she was desperate for it.

Harry could feel her words shooting straight to his core, his body growing hotter in response. He could tell that she was close before she had even said so, by the way her body trembled against him, by the way her words got breathier and more desperate. Hearing her say so only made him more eager to get there.

"That's it, sweetheart. Let daddy make you feel good, darling." Harry murmured in her ear, his hands gripping her tighter, his body moving against hers more frantically now as he chased his own release alongside hers. She was going to cum, she was going to cum because of him and fuck if that wasn’t the sweetest reward he could think of- he wasn’t sure what was. "You're doing so perfect for me. Just let go for me. You can do it. I've got you, sweet girl."

Y/N felt it approach quicker than she had wanted. It was no wonder, though. Harry was giving her everything she didn’t know she needed in the simplest way, and he wasn’t even inside of her yet. She felt safe and appreciated as his fingers held her and his lips cooed encouragement to her, the rhythmic back and forth of his cock rutting against her poor, soaked panties, the heat boiling over.

“I’m gonna- m’cumming, m’cumming, I’m cumming Daddy- Harry.” She babbled as her eyes welled up with pleasured tears, nails digging into his skin as she came.

Harry's breathing hitched as he felt her grip on him, her hands digging into his skin and her body trembling against his as she came. “There you go baby, there you fuckin’ go. Yes.” He gasped, feeling himself tip over the edge. His name leaving her lips in a strangled whimper had been the final straw, his own release hitting him like a wave, his body shuddering against hers as he followed her over the edge. Shooting right into his briefs, he felt the hot and sticky load and momentarily mourned the loss of it not being inside of her, but it was quickly passed over as the orgasm washed over him.

"God, darling," the man groaned, his voice low and rough as he buried his face against her neck. Mouthing over the skin as he tried to gather his bearings, he mumbled sweetness into her. "You did so well for me, sweetheart. You're so perfect. So good for me. Sweetest fuckin’ peach."

The loud groan that followed her own had caught her off guard, the sharp thrusts of his hips making her cry out in overstimulation but she did little to stop it, keeping her legs around his hips. “What the fuck was that?” She laughed, head falling back on the sofa with her eyes blurry and wet. It was hard to think.

Harry couldn’t say anything, his own brain fuzzy and his body in overload after that climax. He was breathing heavily, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath, his forehead resting on her shoulder. His curls brushed her skin, scalp slightly damp as her fingers settled in the mess of hair and brushed through it without a second thought.

"Bloody fuckin’ hell, babe." Harry finally managed to say, his voice a bit shaky. "That was… incredible." He lifted his head up, looking down at her disheveled and flushed form, his eyes roaming over her.

It was just dry sex, but it had been better than some of the full on stuff he’d had. Maybe it was just their connection, their vibe, maybe even being high, but he knew it felt impeccable. This was something he wanted to revisit- and he would, especially when he was all alone with his hand on his cock.

“If it feels good like that, what the hell are we gonna do when we do the real thing?” Y/N blinked up at him, the flush of her orgasm glowing on her skin. She felt her body shivering slightly, her poor panties a complete mess she’d need to change into, but there was no regret so far. It took her by surprise considering she had been anticipating a bit of awkwardness between the both of them but there was no hint of it as they recovered, a light kiss pressed over her cheek as his hazy eyes looked down at her.

Harry let out a half-laugh, his body still feeling heavy and spent after that intense release- one that had been a welcomed surprise. There had been no prior indication that would be happening tonight but for as insane as it was that it happened, he was more than happy that it did. Getting to experience this side of Y/N had been something he liked far more than he could have ever anticipated.

Leaning down, his forearms rested on either side of her head as his eyes locked with hers while he spoke. "I have a feeling that the real thing will be earth-shattering." He said, his voice low and slightly hoarse. "The wait might kill me, though."

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awzominator · 5 months ago

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Day 13 Scars

the amount of effort I had to put into these and they still don’t look how I want is frustrating but alas time is not on my side

ramblings under the cut

Mikey: Gave Mikey Lichen Burns from that one time he got disintegrated and then reanimated via electricity. He died n got better and honestly it is one of the most violent injuries that I recall for him. Like he plays it off so easily cuz he has super powers and all that jazz but that’s so messed up. Also Raph yelling for him OOOFFFFF will never forget how filled w rage and hurt that dude was. He was ready to kill ❤️ Such a wild episode and I love how Mikey was so depended on in order for the plan to succeed. It was Mikey’s turn for the Self sacrificing bit and he crushed it

Leo: Get Shreddered idiot!!! The fucked up knee and throat from when he got beat up and thrown thru the window. This is def my fav event to happen which is a wild thing to say. It’s the most obvious thing to go for but I personally loved the farmhouse arc and Leo’s need for recovery. That dude is still not well and is repressing stuff but they don’t have time to heal. Their lives are too chaotic, too much is on the line, and Leo can’t afford to take the time to heal 100% none of them can tbh. I know a lot of ppl hate how 12 handled his knee injury but I loved it Bc it’s obviously not better but he’s a stubborn idiot who chooses to push everything down and out. He is the healthiest turtle for sure. I’m pretty sure in later episodes his knee gives out a few times don’t quote me tho it’s been a few years aha

Raph: His broken shell! After watching Lone Rat and Cubs and seeing where it came from, I always wondered if Splinter looks at it with loads of regret. A physical sign of his short comings that one time they almost got caught by the Kraang. A warning and a constant reminder they’ll never be safe, that splinter wont always be able to protect his babies no matter how hard he fights. I also like to HC he becomes the most hovering and overprotective of Raph while he’s still recovering Bc that shell broke so easy. Honestly seeing screen shots of close ups of Raphs shell is awesome to see both shell and plastron are broken.

Donnie: UGHHH THIS DUDEEEE !!!!! Literally had the hardest time Bc he goes thru a lot also but it’s more emotional and mental dude is fuked up in the head fr. I asked several ppl for help Bc I didn’t want to do another lichen burn thing from Karai’s trap. In the end I played around w the suggestions to see what would look most appealing to me. The scars on arm are from Slash (such a good episode thank you for the suggestion 🙌) as his arm was injured and in a sling at the end of the episode. The head scar def a big creative liberty Bc he does get injured there a lot ahah. I was thinking of Fourtrap again which lead to thinking about the time that Leo blew him up accidentally during is emo phase XD

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt 2012 #tmnt donatello #tmnt leonardo #tmnt raphael #tmnt michelangelo #tmntember #tmntember2024 #12yearsoftmnt2012 #tmnt2012artchallenge #Awzominator art #If u read the ramblings godspeed #Idk if they make sense I don’t do words sorry

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vladtoly · 2 months ago

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Close Call

Dae-Ho x Female!Reader

Requested: Yes

Proofread: No

Word Count: 690

A/N: I need to preface this by saying I really loved Thanos' character and I simply portrayed him this way for the blurb. No hate for him, I swear! Also I did struggle a bit making Dae-ho the jealous type, so he may come off more protective than anything. Hope it's still good, thank you for requesting!

As the second game came to a close, you sat anxiously on your bunk, watching the entrance doors. Your boyfriend had been on a different team, though not by his own choice. Originally, you had been with his group, but when player 222 had come to them, revealing she was pregnant? You immediately gave up your spot. Dae-ho looked like he wanted to object and offer to leave instead, but you silence him with a simple side eye. Whatever group you were in, you’d assumed you would be fine, or at least hoped. And you were.

Now you were just worried about him.

“Senorita, excuse me. Mind if I join?”

You sighed as a weight landed on your mattress, the voice not waiting for your answer. Just a glance at your side revealed it to be Thanos. You hadn’t even been in his group, just sitting in the one behind his- but that didn’t stop him from turning around and dropping pick up lines constantly. It had almost been a relief when it was your group’s turn.

Shifting away, you kept your eyes on the entrance. “I do, actually, thanks.”

The man ignored your answer and made himself comfortable, man spreading and propping his arms behind him on the mattress. He seemed to know how to make any space crowded, all on his own.

“Don’t know why you’re looking at the door. All you need is right here,” he purred out, leaning his head closer to you.

“I’m waiting on my boyfriend. You can leave.” Your reply was short and sharp, hoping maybe obvious disinterest would make him leave. But you also doubted it.

The weight moved closer, and as soon as you felt a hand on your arm, your head finally snapped to look at him. “Do you know what ‘leave’ means?”

His face split into a goofy grin, obviously high off one of the pills you saw him pop earlier. “Well, I finally got you to look at me, didn’t I?”

Before you could respond, a hand grabbed Thanos’ hoodie and dragged him off the bed. When the owner of the hand came into view, you were more relieved to see Dae-ho. He was alive. Thank God.

“Why were you touching her?” he nearly yelled, his attention directed at Thanos.

Oh, right. You almost forgot about him.

Thanos just laughed, shoving himself out of your boyfriend’s grip. He brushed himself off as you quickly went to Dae-ho’s side.

“She looked lonely. I was just trying to help, you know?” Thanos leaned closer. “When you finally drop dead, then I’ll really help her.”

“You fucking bas-“Your words were cut off as Dae-ho lands a hard blow to his cheek.

Hobbling back, Thanos tried to lunge forward only to have the rest of your group step in front of him, making a wall. Your eyes were trained on him until a gentle hand touched your cheek, directing you to look away. As you turned, your eyes met with soft brown ones, wide with worry. “Hey, are you okay? What happened, what did he do?”

The sound of your boyfriend’s voice grounded you. You shook your head, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Nothing, he didn’t get the chance.”

His shoulders finally relaxed, resting his forehead on yours. “God, remind me to never leave you alone again.”

“Dae-ho, he was more of an annoyance than anything. He’s been doing shit like that all day.” You sighed out.

He groaned, tilting his head to look at the ceiling. “Trust me, I noticed.”

The words sank in. A small smirk began to form on your face. “Were you watching us earlier?”

“Kind of impossible not to. I wanted to check on you, and he also happens to be the loudest guy here. Makes it hard not to notice.” His eyes remained on the ceiling as he spoke.

Chuckling softly, you gently moved him back to look at you. “I’m okay. I’m right here and okay. Thank you for looking out for me.”

A deep sigh left him as he placed a firm kiss to your forehead, mumbling against the skin, “Someone has to.”

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

Squid Game headcannon/blurb requests are OPEN!

#squid game x reader #squid game #kang dae ho x reader #player 388 x reader

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hyunebunx · 3 months ago

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˖˙ ᰋ ── you, clouds and rain (and the wine on your lips)

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: fluff, slightly suggestive

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: my mindy requested something soft and domestic with a slice of spicy tension with hyun and who am i to say no? enjoyyy <33 and let me know your thoughts <3 part two right here

When shooting your tired boyfriend a message this morning, inviting him over for lunch and a cuddle sesh by the television, the last thing you expected was a power outage. Even though it was still light outside, the sun and its bright rays were obscured by dark and angry clouds that could only mean one thing: rain.

Hyunjin was a fan of rain, loving the silence and how the whole world seemed to slow down and hurry home. He could be as silly as he wanted and nobody would judge him, too busy to remain dry to care about anything else. You, on the other hand, hated rain. It usually ruined all of your plans and kept you stuck inside, depriving you of sunlight and everything you loved. Including seeing your beloved and going on cute dates, holding hands throughout the day while exploring new and exciting places neither has seen before.

And now it ruined another one of your plans because things could never go your way, now, could they?

“I’m so sorry, Hyun.” You sigh, playing around with the food on your plate, absolutely dejected.

Hyunjin shakes his head and tries to hide the smile threatening to stretch across his features, freshly dried hair bouncing with his every move. “You’re sorry for what exactly?”

Thunder interrupts before you can even begin, souring your mood further as Hyunjin reaches for your fork, twirls it around expertly and brings it to your mouth to eat before it gets cold. You’ve worked hard on this pasta, letting it go to waste would be a shame.

“The rain.” You mumble before chewing, pouting. He waits patiently for you to finish before leaning over the table to wipe some sauce that has somehow landed on your chin.

“You can’t control the weather, baby.” He smiles, fondness spilling from his eyes as he watches you reach for your drink. Your apartment was no longer bright, engulfed in this darkness that would fool anyone into believing night was about to set at any moment. Fortunately, you managed to prepare everything before the power went out so at least your lunch date wasn’t completely ruined.

To set the mood and try to lift your spirits, Hyunjin has lit a lone candle between you on the table – a romantic till the end, you’re convinced your boyfriend would shrivel up and die if he couldn’t spoil you somehow.

“Well, I want to control it all to make you happy!” The statement is a bit childish but not far from the truth. For Hyunjin, you would do anything to see that beautiful smile of his lighten up every room. Control the weather, move mountains and even give him the moon which he embodied without even realizing. As bright as he was, Hyunjin was the moon in your eyes, illuminating every dark corner of your world with his ethereal glow that left every passerby in awe.

Breathtakingly beautiful, both from the exterior and from within. There was no other person like him in this universe.

This time, he laughs, eyes turning into two crescent moons as if to prove your previous point. “I’m the happiest as long as I’m with you, no matter the weather, time or place. I thought you knew that?”

You’re aware yet your heart still skips a beat, as it always does whenever he opens his mouth and hits you with such a line. Hyunjin wasn’t shy in the slightest when it came to you and the love that was overflowing out of him. All of it was yours, of course. He could never love another in the way he loved you for as long as he lived.

“Doesn’t matter.” You still shake your head, deciding to be stubborn. “It still ruined our plans. I was looking forward to finishing that show together and now we can’t.”

He takes a sip of his wine, the condensation on the glass proof of the warmth in the apartment. “It’s not like we can’t watch it another time, baby.”

“I guess.”

“Don’t pout.” His bigger hand settles on top of yours on the table, bringing it to his plump lips to plant a lingering kiss on the smooth skin. “I came over to see your beautiful smile and talk each other’s ears off. Don’t make me sad.”

Hyunjin makes a face, dramatizing his sadness and you finally laugh, returning to your meal with newfound vigour. He always managed to make even the gloomiest days happier, and you suspected your boyfriend might actually be an angel in disguise, sent from above to watch over you.

“So,” he starts, happiness radiating off of him at the delicious food, his hand still holding onto yours, “did you finish that new book you were telling me about the other day, yet?”

The rain was hitting your windows heavily, creating a curtain of sorts that kept you and Hyunjin separated from the outside world, protected from all evil in your little love bubble that continued to grow with every moment spent together. Excited, with your whole face lighting up, you stand abruptly and make your way over to plop yourself onto his lap without shame, just so you can snuggle while granting his wish. You were about to talk both of his ears off until he begged you to stop. And knowing Hyunjin, he might actually like that.

Time flies as you’re having fun with your other half, while he listens attentively to your every word, so drawn to you and the way your mouth moves that he can barely look away as he remembers to keep feeding you and himself until both of your plates are empty. If it were up to him, Hyunjin would glue your hands together so you��d never have to be more than a foot apart at all times. But reality is cruel, and spending all your time with your beloved was not socially acceptable – for some reason, you couldn’t make money this way. He really hated capitalism for keeping you away from him.

After a while, you both stand to wash the dishes, with him on your trail and being assigned to drying duty.

You’re laughing together as Hyunjin tells you more stories from work, something that happened the other day at the company, not leaving anything out. He was so honest and open about his feelings that nothing he said surprised you anymore.

Your back is to him as you wash the last glass when you feel strong arms pulling you to a sturdy chest, wrapping around your middle to ground the man as he leans over to hug you with all his might. You smile, genuinely, and rest your head on his shoulder just to plant multiple kisses on his cheek. He giggles, and you quickly shake the water and bubbles off your hands to turn around in his embrace and face him.

“Hi.” You smile, briefly kissing his nose. Thanks to the smaller windows, the kitchen was even darker than your dining room, creating a cosier, more intimate atmosphere one could only dream of basking in. Romantic with a pinch of tension neither could shake off - the pleasant kind.

The rain showed no sign of stopping any time soon so for the time being, you were the only two people in the world.

“Your smile is my favorite.” He’s staring deeply into your eyes, strong hands following the outline of your body downwards to rest on your hips and bring you closer, wanting to make you one. The butterflies start going crazy, flapping their colorful wings against your ribcage in a desperate attempt at being let out, longing to be touched by him just like you were.

Your arms come around his neck, and you’re nose to nose now. “You’re my favorite.”

Hyunjin breaks into a grin, one he can’t contain before closing his eyes and burying his face in the crock of your neck, hugging you close.

“You know what I really want right now?” His voice is low, the vibration against your skin sending a shiver down your spine as his hold on you tightens.

You shake your head, one of your hands moving to tangle into his hair and massage his scalp. “Tell me, so I can make it happen.”

He chuckles, thumbs drawing random shapes on your sides you could make out if concentrating on anything else other than his voice was possible. “You don’t even know what I want to ask for yet.”

“It doesn’t matter.” You respond a little too quickly, tenderly coaxing his head out of hiding just so you could see his eyes again and marvel at their beauty. “I’ll do anything for you.”

“Anything?” Hyunjin leans closer, trapping your body between him and the sink as he towers over you, few strands of his hair tickling your forehead. Your breath catches in your throat and you try shallowing, anything to get rid of this sudden lump that’s preventing the oxygen from reaching your brain.

When you nod, his eyes soften, warm hand sneaking beneath your shirt to feel skin, needing this contact to remind himself you are real and the possibility of you disappearing right before his very eyes were slim.

Then, without waiting for his next line, your hand grasps at his fluffy sweater and yanks him forward to connect your lips in a sweet kiss, one that has you both releasing a relieved breath, that acts like the lifeline you need to cling to, to survive.

His lips are soft and warm, and you can faintly taste the wine he indulged in, lingering on his skin. The hand that isn’t under your shirt finds solace at the back of your neck, gingerly deepening the kiss as thunder strikes once again. Not like you care anymore; not when he’s kissing you like he’s trying to burn to memory every nook and cranny of your physical existence.

Heads tilted, his tongue sneaks in to greet yours for the briefest moment before Hyunjin pulls away with great difficulty, chest heaving as he struggles to regain his composure.

“A blanket fort.” He almost croaks out, voice raspy and heart very much disappointed when he tears himself away from you to make some room.

You blink, confused and a little dazed, hands darting to latch themselves onto his sweatshirt so he won’t go too far. “What?”

With a laugh, he throws his head back for a moment, calming down before clarifying. “I want to build a blanket fort. Since the power isn’t back yet, I thought we could have some fun doing that.”

You’re bamboozled, almost spinning around in search of the hidden camera that will confirm this is all a prank.

“But I thought…” You trail off, arms falling to your sides as you look down in embarrassment.

Hyunjin is quick to raise your head, with a finger under your chin and another dazzling smile. “Didn’t you just say you’d do anything for me?”

What a fucking tease. How were you ever supposed to say no to that smile?

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sluttylittlewaistenthusiast · 8 months ago

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╰┈➤ 18+ none of these stories belong to me! this is a masterlist of all the fanfics i’ve read and reblogged! just thought it would be nice to have them all in one spot! (if your fic is on here and you wish not to be, please let me know!) some will have summaries if provided <3

╰┈➤ a/n: 2022 me would skin me alive if she ever found out im being vocal abt liking eddie munson

ᡣ𐭩 how you can help palestine . fic recs m.list

@lokis-army-77

⭒ Cozy

Waking up the day after Eddie has fucked your brains out you have a little more fun.

⭒ Private Viewing

What happens when your favorite camboy is in your class? You should stop watching his content... or should you? What happens when you are eventually paired together for a project? Everything will be just fine, won't it?

@eddiemunsons-missingnipple

⭒ Next Caller

Eddie hosts a late night radio show for his college campus, where he discusses various different topics. He's mostly known for his DnD and sex talk segments. You've been a long-time listener who works up the courage to finally call in for some help.

⭒ You Look Lonely

Eddie finally had it all, success, money, and fame. There was still one tiny problem he had.

@ceriseheaven

⭒ Cockwarming with older!Eddie (blurb)

@natti-ice

⭒ “Let me taste you” (blurb)

⭒ "B-baby please, I'm gonna-" (blurb)

@msgexymunson

⭒ Shotgun

You're on a camping trip with your two friends, and the scariest guy from school: Eddie Munson. A few beers and some weed change the way you look at him however. Maybe he's not so scary after all. Cocky, oh yes, but not scary. Especially the way your legs start to squeeze together at the sight of him. But, does he like you, or is this some cruel game to play on the innocent band geek?

⭒ Benefits

Your best friend Eddie starts to look very appealing to you, but if you suggest a dynamic change, will he go for it?

⭒ Soft Touches

you and your dealer Eddie get a little closer than anticipated.

⭒ The Ink Shop

Desperate for a job, you answer an advertisement not knowing it's a tattoo shop. It's not particularly difficult work, except for one thing: having to deal with Eddie Munson.

@eddiethefreakkmunson

⭒ Not So Accidental Invitations

Tired of ignoring your ever growing attraction to your roommate Eddie you "accidentally" send him a partial nude, his reaction is everything you had hoped it would be and more...

@bimbobaggins69

⭒ Love in the Locker Room

you go into the boys locker room with a plan to steal the polaroids your now ex boyfriend took of you to show off to his friends, but the last thing you suspected was to be met with Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson and his very big friend.

@luveline

⭒ Topaz, Lime, Ruby Red

Eddie has a staring problem that you barely notice, though you share an aching, awful crush. One of you has to bend first, and it’s not who you’d expect.

⭒ Is It Getting Too Much?

you finally work up the courage to kiss Eddie for the first time and he can’t cope (even if he claims he can).

⭒ If It Barks

You don’t mean to make an enemy of Eddie Munson — he’s handsome and talented, but he’s the biggest jerk you’ve ever met. Eddie thinks you’re infuriatingly pretty, emphasis on the infuriating.

part one | part two | part three | part four |

⭒ Was That So Hard?

Your best friend Eddie tries to explain what a hickey feels like and finds he doesn't have the words. He could show you, though, if you want?

�� Dark Matter

You ask your best friend Eddie to give you your first kiss. Eddie's not really in the habit of saying no to you.

⭒ Something Extra

You're having trouble sleeping and pot seems like the only solution. Good thing your dealer, Eddie Munson, knows of another method that he's willing to to teach you. You get more than you bargained for when he tells you what he gets off to every night - you.

@usedtobecooler

⭒ Desperate!Eddie (blurb)

⭒ eddie "monstercock" munson

eddie ‘monstercock’ munson, who is painfully unaware of the sheer size of his dick.

@munson-blurbs

⭒ Dark and Stormy

A missing key and a terrible storm leaves you and Eddie stranded in the back of his van. What ever shall you do to pass the time?

@eiightysixbaby

⭒ Take A Dip?

eddie wants to get you in the water with him while you're alone at the community pool. he ends up getting a lot more than he bargained for.

@galaxy-siren

⭒ Biggest Fan

@lonelysatellites

⭒ Safe Hands

Sex has never been a pleasant experience for you. Selfish partners, anxiety, and pain have all ruined something that you should enjoy. You’re convinced there’s something wrong with you, but Eddie is determined to prove otherwise.

@eddiernunson

⭒ I Can Do It With A Broken Heart

You and Eddie have both had crap luck on dates lately, nothing that can't be fixed with a strawberry milkshake. However, he gets asked out on a date and it goes well...until it turns your life on its head and he forgets how to pick up the phone. You don't even care that he's dating someone else you just want your best friend back.

⭒ The Splash of Rain on the Roof

you're best friends with Eddie Munson after moving to Hawkins, the new girl who ditches the cheerleaders for the Freaks. A year later, you've fallen head over heels for him, and you're convinced there's no way he has any interest in you. It finally seems confirmed when you find out (more or less) that he's into a fucking cheerleader. Your heart breaks.

@bbyhellfire

⭒ missionary with eddie (drabble)

eddie didn't care for missionary until he meets you

@oneforthemunny

⭒ Soft!Eddie (blurb)

@kiwi-bitchez

⭒ The Girlfriend Experience

Eddie doesn’t think he’s cut out for dating. Self-resigned to a life of one and done hookups, you’re determined to make him see that he has the capacity to be a worthy companion… for when the right girl comes around.

@/gaybybirth on ao3

⭒ Double Feature

When you're forced to go to a double feature showing of the Halloween movies with your brother and his friends, you find yourself, like usual, interacting with Eddie Munson. But it doesn't take long for the platonic line to be blurred and things to heat up.

⭒ Show Me

You ask Eddie to show you what you've been missing out on after he discovers your boyfriend never went down on you.

@eds6ngel

⭒ Romantic!Eddie blurb

@gxtitobxby

⭒ The Princess and the Freak | Part 2

“I can’t help but dream of his head between my thighs, how his hair would feel against my—”

@/mediocredreams on ao3

⭒ Extra Credit

Your professor offers you a very personal in-home tutoring session.

@/ghostproofbaby on ao3

⭒ Twenty Four Hours

in which eddie munson and you absolutely hate each other's guts. what happens when your friends make a bet that you can't spend more than twenty four hours consecutively together?

(Y'ALL MUST READ IT ISTG ITS SO GOOD)

@/decembersfinest on ao3

⭒ Living After Midnight

Being a perpetual people-pleaser meant that you were constantly putting others before yourself--particularly your parents and the eccentric guests who stayed at their motel. But when a surly and mysterious musician checked in indefinitely, he flipped your whole world on its head.

@littlexdeaths

⭒ Band Practice

when band practice doesn’t go as planned…

@eddiexmunsonlover

⭒ One Step Away From You

You move back to Hawkins after 3 years away to finish out your senior year. Can you salvage the friendship you once had with your ex best friend, Eddie? Will you be able to push down your deeper feelings for him, or will it all come bubbling out in disaster?

@/nerdsarehot on ao3

⭒ A Kiss to Remember

⭒ Flustered

@/GreyPetticoats on ao3

⭒ Wing Man

Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you’ll wingman for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.

@eddiesghxst

⭒ Riding Eddie drabble

@eddiemunchem

⭒ that puppy dog typa love

eddie is fiercely loyal, doting, and affectionate — when he’s enamored, you’re everything; his whole world. so just don’t mind the fact that he clings to you like a sloth to a tree, yeah?

#eddie munson #so what if im in love with eddie munson #mind your own business #I CANT KEEP ACTING LIKE HE ISNT A TOTAL BABE #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #fic reccomendations #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson st4 #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson series

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eupheme · 3 months ago

Note

Not to be the little gremlin obsessed with Chappell Roan BUT… reader thinking Logan is too cool to want a proper relationship with them, so when things get physical they insist things are just “casual” in order to protect themselves from getting hurt. But secretly you’re in love with each other, so honestly, neither of you want things to be casual at all… (mutual pining my beloved) please & thank you!! Love you!

ahh hi hi avo I LOVE this song, and this request, and you - I could so see this being a situation that Logan and reader find themselves in. I had so much fun writing this, I hope you like it! (I added a couple winks to the lyrics as well.) 💖 thank you so much for sending this to me!!!

casual | variant!logan howlett x f!reader

1.2k | posessive!logan, fwb(???), use of alcohol, mutual pining, references to oral sex and PiV.

It doesn’t matter that your heart flips when you look at him. It’s Logan. It’s just casual.

It certainly feels like a dream, watching your worlds collide.

The heft of Logan’s palm fitting into your friends as he shakes their hand - the five of you squeezed into your usual booth in the corner of the bar.

You’d say the past couple weeks had seemed that way, as well. A late-night dose of bravery spiraling into something so raw and intense and real, that you feel like you could choke on it.

Even now, there’s heat in your cheeks as your eyes flick his way. Something stirring in your chest at the way his other arm slings across the back of the booth almost possessively.

But like all dreams, there comes a moment where you have to wake up.

Because you know it’s not.

Because you know your feelings aren’t requited. How could they be, when it’s Logan you’re talking about?

A legend.

A lone wolf.

Someone important, someone whose name carries a weight. Who saved the world, from what Wade tells you.

And you’re - you.

So even if you know what he looks like beneath that flannel, know what his mouth feels like when it presses against yours - what he sounds like, when he comes - you know that this is nothing.

It’s casual. A distraction, for both of you.

And if that’s how it has to be, then you’ll do your best to show him you’re cool with it.

You just hadn’t expected this moment to come so soon. It had been a genuine offer, your “you wanna come with?” when the hour rolled around for your weekly trivia night.

Not thinking his head would cock to the side. The look he’d give you - that arched brow, as his fingers splayed out across your bare hip. Still crowded together on your couch, sweat-dewed.

The “sure, sweetheart” that slipped out.

And now you’re introducing him as your friend - that quick history you’ve perfected - rattling off the “you know, Wade from work’s roommate” even though Wade didn’t work at the dealership anymore.

He had made enough of an impression that none of your friends had forgotten.

And you ignore the bitter jolt in your stomach, when all Logan does is hum.

You think you must have assumed right.

He doesn’t correct you.

Logan quickly solidifies himself as an asset to the team. He gets a lot of the history questions that you’ve always struggled with. A shy quirk of his lips when your friends cheer, and you get swept along with it.

His hand ending up on your thigh along the way. Squeezing, when you chime in. Almost as if forgetting - it’s easy to, when you’re having fun like this.

A low rasp in your ear, when the host takes a break.

“Lemme get you another.”

You can only nod, as he eases out - taking your glass with him.

It only takes a second, before MJ’s hand slaps down on yours.

“That’s Logan?” She hisses - leaning forward, “The one who-”

“Yes.” You cut her off, ignoring the sideways glance her boyfriend gives you.

You never should have told her about that.

Had a hard enough time climbing into your car without thinking about it, yourself - the way he had man-handled you in the passenger seat. Thighs thrown over broad shoulders.

Fingers twined in his hair, as he made you moan in the dark parking garage. Too eager to make it up to your apartment.

She frowns, the words petering out, “But I thought-”

Your teeth worry at your lower lip.

“Yeah. Me too.” You sigh.

MJ knows how much you like him.

Really like him - butterflies, and everything. How it’s been years since you felt this way - slipping from you during that rushed phone call at 6 am the morning after your first night together.

Her eyebrows raise, and it’s a look you know well.

“It’s, you know.” Your hand waves, “It’s casual. It’s-”

It’s easier, this way.

Maybe if you keep repeating it, it won’t hurt as much when he moves on.

The look she shoots you is one of pity, just as a drink is set down in front of you.

Your teeth clicking against each other as the words are swallowed. Forcing a smile as Logan slips back in the booth next to you.

The next round starts a moment after, and it’s a welcome reprieve.

You miss the way his eyes narrow, as yours fix firmly on scorecard in front of you.

But you don’t miss the way his hands stay folded on top of the table, for the rest of the night.

You suppose he must have remembered where he was.

“You wanna come up?”

He lingers outside your apartment door, hands jammed into his pockets. That look from the bar is back - all dark, narrowed eyes.

A low sound in his throat, close to a scoff.

“That what you want, sweetheart?”

Your eyebrows raise, “Well, yeah. I mean-, that’s what we usually do, right?”

He’s spent just about every night at your apartment. His things still scattered across your room. A leather jacket slung across the chair that’s tucked against your vanity.

Logan’s lips twist at the edges, eyes dropping.

“Suppose we do.” Those hands slip from his pocket, crossing over his chest, “Back when I thought we knew what we were doing. But now…”

His head shakes. A tick in his jaw.

Your stomach drops.

“What do you mean?”

Logan huffs, “The bar, baby. Is that how you really feel?”

A step closer, until he’s caging you in. Voice dropping, rough and low - near gritted out.

“Does this,” His fingers flick between your chest and his, “feel casual to you?”

Your heartbeat gallops behind your ribs.

“I thought-,” You manage, “Thought that’s what you wanted.”

He’s too close, now. The dip of his head, those eyes burning in their shades of brown and gold.

“Now, why would you think that?”

You swallow, “Because you’re you, and I’m-”

“You’re?” He prompts, but you go silent.

A sigh, when your head dips.

Unable to say it out loud.

“Driving me crazy all night, you know that?” He rasps, “Giving me those looks. Calling me your friend, when we both know your mouth was around my cock this morning.”

A low rumble in his throat, “When I still taste like you.”

Your breath hitches, as his hand thumbs at your jaw, tilting it up.

“Lemme ask you again.” His mouth is close enough now to ghost against yours, “Is that how you really feel?”

Your head shakes.

“Wanna be yours.”

It’s breathed out, just as he kisses you.

His body pressing flush, as your hands twine around his neck. A palm around the back of his neck, pulling him closer as he deepens it.

Desire thrumming to life inside you, washing out the dregs of insecurity that you’ve been carrying this whole time. Melting them away completely with the hungry sweep of his tongue, the way he swallows your soft moan.

There’s a flash of white when he finally leans back, with the curve of his lips.

“Good.”

His hand closes around the knob. A rough twist, as his another arm wraps around your waist.

Walking you backwards, into the dark.

“Then let me show you exactly how I feel.”

thank you so much, again!! 💖

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlet smut #wolverine x reader #logan howlett fanfiction #requests #avocado-writes #eupheme answers #xmen x reader

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cryptidcasanova · 9 months ago

Text

Lover Boy

Mob!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: It's the Bridgerton carriage scene, but make it mob!Bucky.

Warnings: Angst, light Smut, Language, Possessive Bucky.

3.5k

The poll results are in, and I couldn't help but think this might be a good way to remedy both sides.

You were mortified.

One hand fisted against quivering lips, and the other gripped at your clutch. As if anything else could go wrong tonight. Shaky steps guided you down the carpeted stairs.

There was another gala, another meeting of the power players in town. And it was another night wasted at the hands of James Barnes.

You hated how much you cared for him. You still cared for him even after all the stunts he pulled to pull you away from the Maximoff heir. Always had.

Ever since you were kids, you remembered having that love-sick look in your eyes. You grew up with inner-circle families and were friends with Rebecca, Sarah, and their brothers. And Bucky? Well, shit, he was always there with his dark hair and curious eyes. It was hard not to fall for him.

Even as you grew up, numbing yourself to the reality of the business and the choices that came with it, you couldn't ignore him forever. You knew that Bucky was raised to be powerful, honorable, and frightening. You knew the stories – of all the beautiful women who couldn't tie him down longer than a night or two. You knew how he flaunted some new girl at every event. It was hard not to overhear them whispering among the men.

'What about her?' and the laugh on his hips saying, 'She's just a family friend. Don't worry about her; I'd never be with her like that.'

You knew he would break your heart, and still. You loved him.

Again, mortified.

He was your first kiss on some lonely night when you couldn't help but ask him. But that had been ages ago. He was grown now, the head of the family and the king of his empire.

But there was something different about tonight, something predestined that started long before you stepped outside your door. It started out as Sam's idea weeks before, in the same bar where you ended up every weekend.

He wanted to try and get you to mingle among the local 'rabble-rousers' as if he pretended not to be one of them. Your laugh at his suggestion pulled Steve and Bucky's attention from across the bar.

"You want me to do what, exactly?" You teased. "Throw myself in the way of wealthy investors and scout out the competition? That's much more up Nat's alley; there's a reason why they call her the Black Widow, you know –"

"No, nothing like that," he shook his head, that charming grin on his lips. Once Sam got an idea, it took a lot of work to dissuade him. "Look, there's more to this life than watching shipments and making small talk with the hens in town." He paused, knowing all the time you spent logging backorders and saving face with the mercs' wives. "I want you to be happy. We all do."

You leaned against the bar, pressing your palms against the hardwood.

"So you think it's time for me to settle down?" You challenged with a smirk. "Get married to some silver-spoon jerk upstate?" Sam's smile turned close-lipped as he noticed the other's approach.

"We could help you find a good one." At least he sounded hopeful.

"In this town?" Steve overheard, tapping his beer on the hardtop. "You're gonna need all the help you can get."

Your sneaking suspicion grew as they hounded like vultures. You looked from Sam to Steve with weary eyes. The only one with less enthusiasm was Bucky. Bucky, who usually was primmed with pressed shirts, was tired. His hair fell into his face, his shirt wrinkled, and his tie long discarded at one of the tables.

"You want to help me find a man?"

Bucky looked to his friends with a hooded expression, letting his hand reach out before him. With the click of his tongue, he softly smirked.

"We'll help you find a man. Have we got a deal, doll?"

It was a business handshake, one full of promise. And as soon as you grasped Bucky's hand, one you'd come to regret.

You didn't expect their advice to work so well…or so quickly.

At the gala, Bucky strolled over with that sly walk and pressed navy suit, conveniently carrying your favorite drink in hand after Pietro ordered you both dirty martinis. You never cared for the drink, but you weren't about to tell him that. But trouble started when Bucky slid between you with that close-lipped smirk.

"They must have made a mistake at the bar," He explained with a shrug. "I remember you liked these. Here, doll." Bucky said, swapping out the drink in your hand before sliding away. No one could fault you for your eyes lingering on him as he walked back to Sam and Steve.

Later in the night, when you were dancing along and finally falling into a rhythm with Pietro, Bucky interrupted again. It was the turn of the tides, the slow pace of the music building, until it felt like one of the underground clubs.

All the weeks spent flirting and learning more about the Maximoff family were crumbling before you. You were a fool to think it would last.

The music built to the familiar strum of old songs you used to listen to, and before you knew it, Sam, Natasha, and half the crew surrounded you on the dancefloor, pulling you away from your date. And it was all orchestrated by Bucky, leading them like a pack of wolves. You knew that look, the suave pull of his hand through slicked-back hair. And then, before you knew it, you were dragged away from the dancefloor.

"Hey," Pietro called over the music, pulling you to the side. "I like you. I do, but this isn't working."

"Wait –" You tried, reaching for his arm. But he was quick to deflect, and embarrassment warmed your cheeks.

"Whatever you're looking for," his eyes moved from Bucky and dropped when you noticed. He looked down with a sad smile. "Whoever you're looking for, I hope you find it."

It felt like a knife twisting in your chest.

"Please don't go."

But it was too late. Your plea was lost as he pushed himself away. Everyone saw it. All your friends' efforts and your attempts to find the one were wasted. Your feet carried you away too fast to notice the somber look Steve gave Bucky.

"You're running out of time, punk."

The city lights passed in a blur as a taxi drove you farther from the gala. The searing ache in your chest left you confused.

For years, you dreamed of Bucky Barnes, hope a dangerous feeling companion of yours. But you knew how he felt. You were nothing more than a friend; he had made that abundantly clear. But you couldn't cut the tether, even while someone else caught your interest. Pietro Maximoff was handsome and kind and loved his sister more than the world. But with Bucky's interruptions, it was no wonder why he didn't want to get involved.

But it still hurt.

A sob was swallowed back, but you couldn't stop the tears from rising. You were pitiful. It was the last time you'd ever ask the guys for help.

But the thought was gone with the sudden screeching of brakes. It made you hold on to the headrest in front of you. Trying to peer around at the commotion, you didn't expect to be cut off by two black SUVs. A moment later, a ringed hand banged on the taxi's hood.

"Get out of the car."

You knew that voice. And as you looked through the windshield, you could see Bucky Barnes peering back.

He was as poised as he was at the party, and the sharp look had you bracing the seat. The bitter spark of rejection caught the light, burning into brutal frustration. You didn't want to talk to him. You didn't want to see him. Not now.

"No."

He tilted his head to the side at the challenge.

"Get out of the fucking car." Bucky gritted. "I need to talk to you."

His voice was teetering dangerously into territory you had only heard about. It was his back rooms, no nonsense voice that snapped you back into the moment. Like hell it would work on you. So it was to be a standoff, one that that you weren't ready to back down from.

Once Bucky realized your position, he took a new approach. You could hear his intentional steps against the pavement as he reached the driver. He didn't say anything but dug into his pants pocket, his fingers flicking through his wallet smoothly.

"Unlock the car," Bucky ordered, pressing cash bills against the window.

The immediate click of the locks didn't help your bellyache, nor did the split second of peace you had before Bucky forced the door open and pulled you out of the cab.

"Are you crazy?" You barked, forcing him to release you as the cab sped off in the other direction.

But you were left in the middle of the road in Barnes territory, the sweep of their dark SUVs cutting off any chance to get out of this conversation.

"What's gotten into you?"

"I didn't want you to leave the party." He explained, his words softer now. "Not like that."

You couldn't believe him. You followed their advice to try and bag a good guy, but to what end?

"What?" You dared to challenge. "I don't know what you want from me. I'm not in the mood, James."

The curl of his name lingered, making your intentions clear. You never called him by his first name. And Bucky didn't like it one bit.

"Let me take you home."

As if you had a choice.

You choked on a frustrated snarl, wanting to hide and cry away your worries and wanting to claw at him like a villain. You hated it. You hated the pressure of his eyes, blue and dark against the night, to get in the car.

So you lifted your head high, took a steeling breath, and walked ahead of him. You were separated from the rest of the world in the backseat of his company car. The divider was a saving grace. You didn't want one of the drivers to see you like this.

But Bucky followed behind so quickly, getting in and closing the door before you could protest for space. You chose to stare out the window instead of looking back at him. The car lurched forward, and you took a moment to find balance.

"You're unhappy."

"No shit."

"Please," He started, turning his shoulders in toward you. Even out of the corner of your eye, you knew he wouldn't let this go. "Please talk to me. Don't close me out. I hated seeing you leave like that. Whatever Maximoff did, I'll fix it."

"You can't fix it!" You finally said, turning to him and gripping his shoulder in frustration. "You say you want me to be happy, to find someone, and then manage to scare off anyone that has the potential to do it." As your voice raised, heat radiated from your cheeks down your neck. His eyes were wide, listening to your grief. "He left because of you. It's not like you have feelings for me. What's the matter with you?"

You couldn't stand to look at him, not when he was so close. His cologne burned your nose, and you desperately needed him to get out of your system.

"Doll," Bucky breathed. He inched his way closer, not letting the anger of your words settle over him. "What if I did have feelings for you?" You would almost call his stare desperate. And then you confirmed it as his shoulders dropped, turning toward you. "It's all that I've wanted to tell you. And I can't see you with him." He admitted.

He moved with purpose all night, not intending to ruin your time with Pietro but to show you that he was the one who needed you. He should have been the one to hold you between dances and order you fine drinks. He should have picked you up so that you would never dare to get in a yellow cab.

But you weren't some wilting flower. You knew the risks of your following words.

"We're friends, Buck."

You held yourself together. You were strong and brave and gripping your heartstrings.

"Yes," He agreed. "But we…"

And for once, he was at a loss of words. The years wasted pining after him would finally be out in the open. You could finally be free of his torment. His eye contact was overwhelming; if he looked away, you would disappear.

"Look, We've been friends for a long time." And with an ounce more of bravery, you sighed. "But I'd like to be more than friends." You admitted. "I want to be so much more than that."

You were waiting for the other shoe to drop. But Bucky leaned closer in earnest, over the seat and bringing his face close. There was no teasing, no torment in his expression.

And with the tip of his chin, you were lost, pulled tight into a kiss and letting it blossom as cold metal snaked around your waist. You dreamed of his touch, and it burned down your throat like honey whiskey.

When you opened your eyes, Bucky had moved. He was no longer in the seat, now chest to chest with you. He was kneeling in the cramped space, the divider shielding you from the driver and the outside world.

"Do you know why Sam offered to help in the first place?" His words were slow as he pulled away, loud enough to hear. "Do you know why Steve jumped on board and corralled us to join? It's because he is tired of me dragging my fucking feet."

"Bucky-"

But he closed the space for another set of slow kisses, deep and intentional.

"I've been an idiot." He admitted. "The guys know how I feel about you. I think they've always known." Another kiss as you pulled back, gripping the shoulders of his jacket. Expensive fabric under your fingertips, hot breath against yours. You were dizzy.

"And you agreed to help with this idea." You noted.

It wasn't a question, no challenge in your words. He agreed to help find you a man. Bucky took a hefty exhale.

"You know the business. It's not safe –" but you raised your hand with a groan, not buying his excuse.

Your fingers brushed over the curve of his chin, the sharp line of his beard a welcome sensation. God, you only ever dreamed of this. You savored the feel of him, your hand moving up his ear and combing your fingers through his air. Buck's eyes were darker than you've ever seen, his open mouth curving up in awe.

"'s not safe." He whispered. "I'm not gonna put you through that."

It was a weak defense. You knew the coterie of mercs, the warehouses, the shipments. You knew all of it and were aware of the danger. But it wasn't like you could cut ties and leave your life behind. You weren't sure you even wanted to.

"You wanted me to find someone else?" You dared to ask. The whisper died as he shook his head.

"All this deal did was make me jealous." He affirmed. "And tonight," His eyes raked down your frame. He never did finish his thought as lust washed over him. A breath passed between you two. "I never meant for you to hurt over it."

The limited space lets you mimic his actions, noting his heaving chest, blue eyes, and the pout of his kissed lips. How he kneeled down in front of you, crowding your space, made you dizzy. While your mouth curved up into a wanton grin, you couldn't help but chase another kiss.

Each touch melted the last of your anguish. The night was long forgotten as soon as he pressed forward, flattening you against the back of the seat. While you pulled up for air, his other hand moved to cup your chin. And then, with your eyes locked on his, he tilted your chin, eyes staring into the roof of the sedan as you felt lips against your jaw.

Hot, languid kisses burned against your pulse. The scrape of his teeth and burn of his beard drove you wild. And as he pulled back, his hand released your chin, following a mesmerized pattern down your skin.

The palm of his hand cupped your neck, down your shoulder, pulling down the thin strap of your dress. Your soft skin was on display, and Bucky's expression was wonderous. But his hand continued mapping, cupping the curve of your breast. A tactful squeeze left your head falling against the seat, a soft gasp on your lips, and your hand blindly reaching up to cover his. With a sharp breath, you found his eyes again. His pink lips were parted, eyes pleading with you.

You knew Bucky was a man of action, but this was uncharted territory. Your nod and an affectionate squeeze of his hand pulled him from his reverie.

He needed more, craving your skin. And as his hand fell from your chest to a solid grip on your ankle, you craved his exploration.

Shallow breaths were traded for deep, hungry kisses. Years of longing, of yearning for his touch and affection, finally were coming to a head. The brush of his tongue left your mind reeling, and regardless of the heat, a trail of goosebumps followed the path of his hand. Under your dress, he lingered over the smooth skin of your calf, over your knee, up your thigh, and to the meat of your hip. Rough, dexterous fingers carved prints into your skin hot enough to burn.

You refuse to miss a moment, eyes fixed on Bucky's as his palm covers the top of your thigh, the intention sitting heavy in your stomach. A live wire of nerves, you can feel him from the heat of your cheeks buzzing down to your toes.

And then, palming where you needed him most, your mouth dropped open with the softest of moans.

Bucky's eyes are wide, but it doesn't last as he finally lets himself get lost. As his eyes close, you admire the curve of his nose and his soft, dark eyelashes. But Buck is greedy, and as he peels his way under the cloth of your panties, you, too, close your eyes. Fingers are nimble, caressing your dripping seam under the dress.

You're a vision.

Convulsing under his touch, rogue pulls off his fingers drip honey down your thighs. Your breath is heaving, and your chest is dangerously close to falling out of the dress. Bucky finds refuge by rubbing slow, devastating circles against your clit. Every hitch of your breath and moan spur him on until you are staring at him with such reverence he thinks he'll collapse.

There's a magnetism, the long-lasting chemistry drawing you nearer to him. He swallows your moan as he slides a finger inside. You're in a desperate frenzy, pulling him close and arching into his body. He spurs on a need you've never had, demanding his smoldering kiss as you shake in his arms.

He's all you've ever wanted. You're crazy to think it could have ever been anyone else.

And then the car jerked to a stop.

There's a breathless laugh as he pulls away, Bucky's forehead resting on yours. You kept a hand on his cheek, thumb brushing his chin. Maybe, if you just ignored it, the outside world would go away.

That is, until you see a porch light turn on from your periphery. You try not to let embarrassment flood your system as you realize your situation, with one of your closest friends knuckle deep in the back seat.

Bucky doesn't share your distress.

He pressed a kiss to your cheek, finally pulling his head back. Bucky smiled. His fingers lingered longer before pulling away, leaving you empty and wanting.

You must have looked as desperate as him, finally looking down at the brutal strain in his pants. But you had no time to overthink as his fingers carefully plucked at your dress strap. He was putting you back together, smoothing out the burn of his touch as he sat up.

If you begged, you were sure that he'd ravage you right there in the seat. But you tilted your head to look outside. You needed a distraction, anything to regain your good sense.

As you focused on the brownstone, you knew where he took you. You were in front of his house – the Barnes family house. He said he was taking you home.

"This isn't my place."

His smirk reached his eyes, and as he pulled open the door and jumped out, his gaze was fixed on you.

"For fucks sake, doll," Bucky's eyes were soft, still blown out. He held a hand out. "We've known each other our whole lives. I'm crazy about you. Are you gonna come up with me or not?"

And with an ardent stare, as if he hung the stars himself, you reached for his hand.

#mob!bucky x reader #mob!bucky #mob!au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #the carriage scene #bucky barnes #lover boy

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nxuriah · 18 days ago

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Bathroom Break

Neighbor!Choso overhears you.

content warnings: MDNI, masturbation, voyeurism, modern AU, neighbors.

pairing: Choso x petite fem!reader

a/n : first time writing smut, pls be nice. I know it's a bit rushed but im ready to move on from this draft thats been sitting here for ages. 😭

You were the nicest, most goody two shoes girl in the building, and everyone knew it. Always saying hi with a bright smile as you exchanged glances, lending a hand whenever you could, bringing over little sweet treats you'd baked, and Choso adored every bit of it. Soon enough, those small morning exchanges turned into letting Choso come over whenever he got lonely, which became quite frequent as he moved in. Since that first day, God graced his doorstep with what– more like whom Yuuji liked to call a “literal Disney princess,” you were the cutest girl he'd ever seen. So, nothing could have prepared him for the events that followed his midnight bathroom break.

Eyes half shut, choso pulled down the toilet lid before lazily reaching for the flush not rendering that muffled sound once but the second time he stilled, actually catching it. He wasn’t sure what that noise was before it grew into little groans.

Now he couldn't care less about what lonely old guy was watching porn, before hearing that soft melody of a voice whimpering out profanities. That same voice he had memorized by now. Oh. That's not porn. He thought because that familiar voice was unmistakable to him by now.

Good morning. She'd call out from behind me. I could hear the smile in the sound of her greeting.

Blood rushed straight to his cock as your soft pants travelled the thin walls. He found it hard to believe that this was the same innocent looking girl who made his days better with her infectious smile. Part of him didn't want to believe it. Choso had always liked you but he would never have even begun to think of you inappropriately much less get aroused by you but when his length strained against his pants which felt tighter by the second. He couldn't stop the images flooding through his mind at your increasing moans.

Fuck– Were you even trying to be quiet? He breathed out softly.

Choso could never imagine you thinking about such lewd things, much less being so careless about it. A sense of guilt flooded him as he begrudgingly loosened his pajama pants, scared that you would somehow know. His trembling hand slowly trailing downwards and wrapping around himself. Just a small rub he thought before finding his thumb tracing shaky circles over his sensitive tip, reluctantly moving down his length. By then his hands moved on their own pumping up and down in a steady rhythm.

He didn't know any better and Yuuji told him when it's like this…he could just ease it himself, so he did. Could you blame him? He was aching down there.

It was hard not coating the bathroom floor immediately after hearing you cry out. He leaned against the wall now fisting his cock, which grew slick in minutes. Only from your sounds..those oh, “so- fucking–thrust pretty- thrust” sounds.

He panted letting out muffled whines himself imagining your sweaty and tired body all spread out under your cute little hands, knuckles deep plunging in your sopping cunt relentlessly as you sobbed out more of those filthy sounds. Choso had never heard a girl like that. Not that he had any experience but even in the things Yuuji showed him he never heard something that made him such a (pretty) mess.

His tip flushed furiously pink as he barely held on. Choso wanted to match each stroke, each thrust to your pornographic cries but the poor inexperienced boy could only last so long, his balls tightening quite soon letting out thick ropes of his cum all over the bathroom wall dripping on to the floor biting into his hand to stop his groan. His knees went weak, imagining you coated in it.

He heard you finish yourself soon after your voice softened down to satisfied coos rather than your earlier pathetic cries. His length twitched still hard, desperate to now actually feel you. Choso had to fist his cock a few more times that night before he was able to fall asleep.

Sleep wasn't great, though, as the shame took over him. Although he wanted nothing more than to see you now, how could he possibly face you tomorrow morning?

...Part 2??

#choso x reader #choso x you #choso x reader smut #choso smut #choso kamo smut #choso x y/n #jjk smut #jjk x reader smut #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n

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airybcby · 1 month ago

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જ⁀♡⊹｡° every move is magic

♡ a/n — this is probably one of the longest things i've written lol. it's only bc it's yuki i swear.

♡ word count — 2.3k

♡ content — yukimiya kenyu x fem! reader, fem! reader, model! reader, childhood best friends, friends to lovers, mutual pining, goes from like kindergarten all the way to the u-20 game, mentions of yuki modeling, decided reader needed to be a model too, reader is shy and reserved as a kid, i made yukimiya one of those gremlin kids

♡ synopsis — Even if the world could never keep up with Yukimiya Kenyu, you’d always be grateful that he’d chosen to stay by your side.

The first time you met Yukimiya Kenyu, you were sitting on the edge of the playground, quietly watching the other kids play. You didn’t join them—not because you didn’t want to, but because you couldn’t figure out how. It was easier to sit by yourself, even if it meant being lonely.

Then he appeared, a blur of energy and determination. While the other kids were too slow to keep up with him, Yukimiya’s restless nature had finally found something that caught his attention: you.

“Why aren’t you playing?” he asked, tilting his head as if the idea was incomprehensible.

You shrugged, unsure what to say other than, “I don’t know how to play the games they’re playing.”

He blinked at you, his head tilting like he was trying to figure you out. “That’s dumb.”

Your eyes widened at his bluntness, and he quickly added, “Not you! The games. They’re boring. Wanna play something else?”

“What?”

“I don’t know. Something fun,” he said with a grin. “We’ll figure it out.”

He didn’t wait for you to answer, instead grabbing your hand and pulling you toward the sandbox. From then on, he never left your side. While he was still a whirlwind of energy, he always made sure to include you, even if it meant slowing down.

“You’re my best friend now, okay?” he declared one afternoon after you’d spent hours building an intricate sandcastle together.

“Okay,” you agreed, a shy smile tugging at your lips.

From that moment on, Yukimiya became your shadow, and you became his anchor. While he zoomed around the playground like a whirlwind, he always circled back to you. And when you sat quietly coloring, he sat next to you, fidgeting but staying put.

He slowed down for you.

Yukimiya’s talent for soccer became apparent early on. By the time you reached the third grade, he was already being called a prodigy. Coaches marveled at his footwork, his speed, his ability to outplay anyone who dared to challenge him.

You watched every game from the sidelines, cheering louder than anyone else. He always made sure to find you in the crowd afterward, his grin wide as he asked, “Did you see that? Did you see how I scored?”

“You were amazing, Yuki,” you’d say every time, and he’d beam like your words mattered more than anyone else’s.

But as his talent grew, your insecurities began to as well. You weren’t particularly athletic, or artistic, or academically gifted. While Yukimiya excelled at everything he tried, you felt like you were just… there.

You were proud of him, of course, but a small part of you always felt like you were standing in his shadow. Everyone noticed him. Everyone praised him. Meanwhile, you were… you.

“You’re thinking too hard again,” Yukimiya said one day, lying flat on the grass beside you after practice. His bangs stuck to his forehead, sweat glistening under the sun. “What is it?”

Your mother had always said that Yukimiya had "great emotional intelligence" for a 3rd grader.

You didn't know what that meant, but you thought so too.

You hesitated before mumbling, “I don’t think I’ll ever be as good at something as you are at soccer.”

He propped himself up on one elbow, frowning. “That’s stupid. You're good at being my best friend." The way he said it, with so much conviction would've made you laugh if his face didn't look so serious.

"You don’t have to be ‘good’ at anything for me to like having you around.” He mumbled, just a quick little add on.

The sincerity in his voice made your chest ache in a way you didn’t understand.

By the time you both entered middle school, Yukimiya’s popularity had skyrocketed. Girls giggled and blushed whenever he walked by, and boys challenged him to soccer matches, hoping to prove themselves.

At first, it didn’t bother you. Yukimiya was still the same boy who ran to your side after every game, who walked you home even when he was exhausted, who always made time for you no matter how busy he was.

But then the love letters started.

“Another one?” you asked one afternoon as he stuffed a folded note into his bag.

“Yeah,” he said nonchalantly, not even bothering to read it.

“Don’t you care what they say?”

“Not really.”

You frowned, not understanding how he could be so unaffected. “What if it’s someone you like?”

“Nah. I don’t feel that way about anyone.” He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. “Besides, why would I need another girl when I already have you?”

The casual way he said it made your heart skip a beat, but you brushed it off as a joke. He couldn’t possibly mean it… could he?

No. You were best friends, he just didn't need another girl in his life right now. You were only in middle school, dating was the last of your worries.

But what would happen when a girl he did like gave him a letter? What would happen to you?

Your friendship with Yukimiya had always been effortless. He was the first person you turned to for help with anything—homework, outfit choices, or just figuring out life’s little mysteries. And he was the same with you.

You’d spent countless afternoons in his room, sprawled out on his bed while he juggled a soccer ball, the steady rhythm of it hitting the wall almost comforting.

This time was no different. You’d come over for a “study session,” but neither of you had cracked open a textbook. Yukimiya was sitting on the floor, bouncing the ball off the wall with practiced ease, while you lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

“Yuki,” you said suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Yeah?” he replied, not looking up from his game.

“Do you think we stop each other from learning?”

The ball thudded against the wall again before he caught it, turning to look at you with a confused smile. “What do you mean? You’re here for a study session, silly.”

“No, not that,” you said, sitting up and hugging your knees to your chest. “I mean… learning how to kiss someone. Or how to go on dates. Stuff like that.”

His smile faltered, and he stared at you, the soccer ball forgotten in his hands. “Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice soft. “It’s just… we’re always together. And I love that, I do. But what if we’re keeping each other from… I don’t know, growing up or something?”

Yukimiya’s brows furrowed as he thought about your words. He stood, tossing the ball onto his desk and sitting beside you on the bed. “So… you want to learn how to kiss someone?”

“I guess,” you said, feeling your face heat up. “Don’t you?”

He hesitated, his gaze dropping to his hands. “I’ve thought about it,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I’ve never… y’know…”

You nodded, the awkward silence stretching between you. And then, to your surprise, Yukimiya looked up at you with a small, nervous smile.

“Maybe… we could help each other,” he suggested, his voice trembling slightly.

Your breath caught in your throat. “You mean…”

“We’re best friends, right?” he said quickly, as if trying to convince himself as much as you. “It’s not weird if it’s just to… learn. Right?”

You hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest. But the way he looked at you—hopeful, nervous, and maybe a little excited—made you nod. “Okay,” you whispered.

His hand reached for yours, his palm warm and slightly clammy, if he was any other guy, you'd have been grossed out. But he was Yuki, your Yuki, nothing about him was gross.

He leaned in slowly, giving you plenty of time to pull away. But you didn’t. When his lips finally pressed against yours, it was soft and tentative, like he was afraid of doing it wrong.

It didn’t take long for the awkwardness to melt away. What started as a simple kiss turned into something deeper, something neither of you had planned.

His hands found your waist, yours tangled in his hair, and before you knew it, the lines between friendship and something more had blurred entirely.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your cheeks flushed. Yukimiya looked at you with wide eyes, his glasses slightly fogged, his lips parted as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

“Did we just…” you began, trailing off.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice barely audible.

Neither of you knew what to say after that, so you didn’t say anything at all. Instead, you lay back on his bed, your hands still intertwined as the silence settled over you like a blanket.

Both you and Yukimiya were scouted for modeling—him for his sharp, athletic looks, and you for your natural, understated charm. And maybe because Yukimiya dragged you to every meeting because he "couldn't do it alone."

He could, by the way, but he didn't want to be without you longer than neccessary.

But you were always so thankful to him, the industry was intimidating, but having him by your side made it bearable.

“You’ve got crumbs,” Yukimiya teased one morning during a shoot, brushing powdered sugar off your cheek from the donut you’d been eating.

“You’re one to talk,” you shot back, wiping coffee foam from his lip. Lips you'd kissed far too often to be considered 'just friends' anymore...but all you were doing was helping each other release energy.

It was Yuki, your Yuki, nothing was weird whenever you were with him.

The photographer snapped a picture of you two mid-laugh, and it became one of your favorite memories—a candid moment that felt more real than anything else.

When Yukimiya was invited to Blue Lock, you encouraged him to go, even though the thought of being apart made your chest ache.

“Don’t forget about me,” you joked, forcing a smile as you handed him his bus ticket.

“Never,” he promised, his voice low and serious.

You couldn't put a finger on why your heart was screaming at you to make him stay when he leaned down to give you one last kiss while your parents backs were turned.

If this wasn't his dream, maybe you would have.

Leaving for Blue Lock was the hardest decision Yukimiya ever made. He hated the thought of being away from you, but he knew he had to take the chance if he wanted to achieve his dream.

He worked tirelessly, determined to prove himself and earn his way back to the real world—not for glory, but so he could call you.

The day he scored enough goals to get his phone back, the first thing he did was call you.

“Yuki?” Your voice on the other end of the line made his heart ache with relief.

“Hey,” he said softly. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” you admitted, your voice thick with emotion.

His teammates teased him mercilessly when they saw his lock screen: a picture of the two of you in matching robes, laughing over coffee and donuts.

“Who’s that?” Karasu asked, leaning over his shoulder.

“My best friend,” Yukimiya replied, his tone too soft for the teasing that followed.

“Just a ‘best friend,’ huh?” Karasu smirked. “Sure doesn’t look that way to me.”

He ignored the crow-like boy the rest of the night, but the truth was, Karasu was right. You weren’t just his best friend. You were his everything.

The roar of the crowd still echoed in the stadium as Yukimiya scanned the field, his gaze darting between his teammates and the celebrating fans. But then he spotted you. Standing at the edge of the field, looking up at him with that same smile he’d seen a thousand times before—on playgrounds, in his room, and through the screen of his phone.

Without a second thought, he ran to you, dodging past reporters and teammates. Before you could say a word, he wrapped his arms around you, lifting you off the ground and spinning you in a circle. The world blurred around you, and all you could focus on was the way his laughter vibrated against your chest and the warmth of his embrace.

When he set you down, you barely had time to catch your breath before he cupped your face in his hands, his forehead resting against yours. “I think…” he began, his voice trembling. “I think I’m in love with you.”

Your breath hitched, and before you could respond, his lips were on yours. The kiss was soft and sure, as if he’d been waiting his entire life to do this. The noise of the stadium faded away, leaving just the two of you in your own little world.

“Oh, is this the best friend?” Otoya's voice cut through the moment, and you pulled away, cheeks burning as you turned to see him smirking, Karasu snickering beside him.

“ ‘Best friend’ my ass,” Karasu added, crossing his arms and shaking his head in mock disappointment.

Yukimiya’s ears turned bright red, but he didn’t let go of you. Instead, he shot Karasu a glare before looking back at you, his gaze softening. “They can say whatever they want,” he murmured, his voice just loud enough for you to hear before he leaned down one more time to kiss you again.

You couldn’t help but think back to when you were kids, when Yukimiya’s speed and energy left everyone else in the dust. You’d always been the shy one, the one who struggled to keep up. But Yukimiya had never minded.

He’d slowed down for you, waited for you, and in doing so, made you feel like you were the only one who could ever truly match him. And now, standing here in his arms, you realized that he’d never stopped waiting.

Even if the world could never keep up with Yukimiya Kenyu, you’d always be grateful that he’d chosen to stay by your side.

yeah i chose yuki for this bc im bias, so what ?

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

#★ · airybcbyy #airy posts #bllk #blue lock #bllk x reader #yukimiya kenyu #yukimiya #kenyu #kenyu yukimiya x reader #yukimiya kenyu x reader #yukimiya x reader #kenyu yukimiya #blue lock x reader #bllk yukimiya #blue lock yukimiya

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bloggerspam · 26 days ago

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Fic of a Fic: Caroline meets Ellie

This is a direct homage to @clockwayswrites Caroline from their fic A Hill to Die on.

Ya'll can blame @deathlysilent13 for this.

Disclaimer: I am not super familiar with alters or systems, and in this AU Tim isn't thinking about it/stumbled into it--please do not take this an accurate experience in any way! It's just for fun :)

===

"You're pretty. Do you like boys?"

Caroline blinks. looking to her left and right, trying to find the source of the chipper voice.

It's 3am in the morning, she's just spent the last 5 hours dancing in heels—she can be forgiven for taking a little long to realize that the voice is coming from slightly below her sight line.

When she finally (blearily) looks down, a girl of maybe 7 or 8 is looking up at her with wide, bright blue eyes.

"Thank you." Caroline huffs a confused laugh, smiling as she leans down and braces on her knees to be a little closer and meet the little girls height. "You're quite the darling yourself you know."

"Thank you, I got it from my brother." The little girl blushes, apples of her cheeks truly working hard to turn the same shade as its namesake, but her wide-eyed curiosity is still not abated. "Do you like boys?"

"Yes, I do." Caroline tilts her head, biting her lip against a laugh. "But most boys don't like me."

"Well most boys are stupid." The little girl scrunches up her face in distaste, which is honestly too much cuteness for Caroline to handle right now. The Tim part of her is starting to wake up, albeit sluggishly, in the face of a possible lost child. "But my big brother isn't stupid! He's the best, actually."

"Oh?" Caroline looks around exaggeratedly, though she does scan the area the way Tim would. Nothing in particular to note. Weirdly empty for Gotham, but otherwise… "And where is this so-called best big brother? Little girl like you shouldn't be out and about so early."

The little girl looks shifty then, fiddling with her fingers and kicking up dust, mumbling. "He's still sleeping at his desk."

"His desk?" Caroline is a little worried now, truly. How far can a little kid walk? Caroline searches through her memories, but realizes that Tim's knowledge on such things would be heavily skewed and probably incorrect. Damian isn't the best example, and Tim used to stalk Batman. So.

"He fell asleep working." The little girl explains, before the beans truly spill out. "I'm supposed to be sleeping, but I wanted some milk, but Danny didn't have a blanket so I got him a blanket, and then I figured maybe he'd like some hot chocolate when he woke up, 'cause he always makes me hot chocolate when I can't sleep, or had a nightmare, but we didn't have any hot chocolate at home so I thought maybe I could get some hot chocolate, but the bodega's closed."

Caroline watches bemusedly as the little girl gesticulates her story, walking back and forth and presenting her case as if Caroline is the one who has the issue.

"And then I saw you, and you're like, really pretty, and I definitely think my brother would like you," The little girl beams up at her, as if she's done something great. "Jazzy said that Danny's been lonely, taking care of me all by himself. So I thought, if I can't give him hot chocolate, I can at least let him meet a pretty lady!"

Caroline laughs, she can't help it anymore, trying her best to stifle it in the echoes of the night. "Well now, that's very sweet of you!"

"Thank you!" The little girl wiggles in her happiness. "If you want to meet my brother, I think he'll be happy. We don't have to go if you don't want to though, Danny said consent is important."

"He's right." Caroline wipes a tear and smiles widely down at the little girl. "I'm also pretty sure he's going to be worried out of his mind when he wakes up and finds you gone, so how about we get you home, okay?"

"So you'll meet him???" The little girl jumps up and down in excitement, cheering, "He'll be soooo happy to meet a pretty lady like you!"

"That's very nice of you to say, darling." Caroline's eyes go half lidded in exhaustion, yawning as her smile quirks a little differently, Tim blinking a little more in the forefront. "But I'm afraid I'm not a lady most of the time. Most times, I'm a boy."

The little girl doesn't even hesitate. "Danny likes pretty boys too!" She reaches up a hand, as if waiting for Caroline, no, Tim? to take her hand and lead her home. "He'll be extra happy that you can be both!"

Tim doesn't know what to say to that—his skirt is starting to feel a little too tight, and his feet are killing him. Heels were a mistake, but at least his tights and sweater keeps him warm, even if it's off the shoulder and cropped. The sweater paws are appreciated at least.

"That's very equal opportunity of him." Tim decides to say, drawing it out as if unsure. It's very typical of Caroline to leaving Tim to clean up her messes. "But I'm not sure Danny wouldn't like a random stranger showing up on his doorstep with his little sister."

"Oh!" The little girl jolts, straightening up and putting her hand out for a handshake instead. "My name is Ellie Nightingale, I'm 8 years old, and I love my brothers and sister very much!"

"Hello, Ellie." Tim shakes her hand, deliberating before deciding fuck it. "My name is usually Caroline in this outfit."

Ellie eyes him up and down, scrutinizing him as she twists their clasped hands into a different hold and leading them seemingly towards her home. "But you're not Caroline now."

"I am not." Tim agrees, adjusting his gait into an awkward walk. His feet still hurt, but he's had worse as Red Robin. "Well, I am. But not. She went to…bed, I guess. So now I'm awake."

"What's your name now that you've woken up?" Ellie asks, stopping them at a crosswalk and looking both ways even though it's as empty as Gotham could ever get. Tim thinks on this for a moment, before again, deciding fuck it.

"It's Tim." He replies. "Caroline had a long night, and she thinks I'm better with children."

Ellie gives him a look for that. "I liked Caroline better."

Tim honks out a laugh, quickly covering it up with his free hand. "Sometimes I like Caroline better too."

"That's kind of sad." Ellie reaches up to pat Tim on his hip, the easiest place she can reach. "It's okay, Danny can like Tim better."

Tim feels his face hurt with how wide he's smiling. Kids are a riot. "Sometimes, when I'm a boy-boy, my name is Alvin."

Ellie shrugs. "Is he mean? If he's mean Dante might like him."

Tim, with a wobbly voice from holding in laughter, tries his best to answer. "He's sometimes a little mean."

"Dante can be mean with him. He's not as nice as Danny, but he's just as good of a brother." Ellie chirps, swinging their arms back and forth as she skips. "Do you have another name that Jazzy can like?"

"…I guess I was Todd Richards, once." Tim hums, swinging his arm with her and using his free hand to rub at his chin in thought. "Though he didn't stay long."

"Jazz doesn't like deadbeat men who leave." Ellie primly states, sticking her nose up. "Jazz deserves better."

"…Are you setting me up with all of your siblings?" Tim hesitantly asks, unsure how to explain that they're all monogamous, but like to share? He's never figured it out.

"No, just Danny." Ellie slants an offended look. "You have lotsa names but you're one person right?"

Tim feels lighter than a feather, and he's not sure how to explain that, so he settles for a nervous smile and nod. He's never actually sat down and thought through this whole identity thing in the first place—method acting gone wrong? Right?

Doesn't matter. Ellie's chill with it, so Tim's chill with it. Logic.

Take that, Dick. And Bruce. And Jason. And—

"It's okay to have a buncha names. I used to have a different name." Ellie continues over Tim's righteous thoughts, this time leading the way through a side alley. Tim is actually surprised how empty it is. "My creator was a dickbag though, and Jazzy said it's important for my i-den-ti-ty to have a proper one."

"Language." Tim bites his lip from snorting, noting the peculiar wording Ellie uses. "Creator?"

"Dante said it's okay if it's true." Ellie bites her lip, side-eyeing Tim as she pinches the fabric of her jeans. "And Danny says it's okay as long as Jazzy doesn't hear."

"Is that so?" Tim chuckles, subtly eyeing her fingers.

"It is so." Ellie sniffs, pinching the fabric of her jeans again. "Danny's the best like that." No pinching this time.

A tell. Tim hides his grin with a little cough. "Of course." Ellie seems to be pleased with Tim's agreeable actions.

They're just exiting the alley, coming around the bend, when the door to an apartment complex across the road swings forcefully open. A man, shirtless and NASA patterned pajama pants at barely cling to his hips shoots out, grabbing the before it slams against the wall, forcing it closed as gently as he can so that the security system locks engage. He's handsome even though his hair is a mess, with crease lines Tim can still see from all the way over here that indicate he was just asleep on possible pencil, maybe a screwdriver.

There are. Abs. And arms. Holy shit, those sure are arms.

Ellie perks up, zooming towards the man and dragging Tim with him. "Danny!"

"Ellie!" Danny's head whips up in their direction, the man running towards them with zero hesitation to scoop Ellie up into a hug. "Bug, you worried me, I woke up and you weren't there!"

Oh, shit, even his voice is nice, deep and raspy from sleep even through the sheer relief. Tim tries to focus on the conversation as Ellie recounts her obviously genius and completely founded (to her) reasoning on why she just had to leave the apartment, but ultimately fails.

Did he mention abs? And arms??

The man is taller than Tim by a good couple inches, and bulkier in the shoulders. He's robust, even with that shoulder to waist ratio that Tim (and Caroline) kind of want to aggressively bite at. Deliciously hunky, as Steph would say. He has a unique undercut that's all white, though the stop part of his hair is black as night.

His eyes almost glow green in the dinky streetlights, and Tim's kind of losing it at the soft helpless look the other man's giving his little sister once she's finished her explanation. He's got her sitting on one arm, holding her up so that their faces are level, with Ellie bracing her tiny hands on his shoulder and chest.

Tim kind of wants to cry.

"I know that—" Danny sighs, pinching his brow in a way only exasperated older brothers can. Tim knows, because Dick does it all the time. "I know that you're used to going out alone, but I thought we established that once you started living with me you'd tell me?"

Ellie purses her lips in what seems to be both guilt and indignation. "I did okay before. Nothing happened and I can take care of any bad guys!"

Danny's face crumples a bit for a flash of a moment, stabbing Tim in the heart like thirty million times. "Ellie, it's not that I don't trust you, it's that I care. What happened before…" Danny sighs looking a little distressed and at a loss for words.

Ellie reaches over, smooths a tiny hand over Danny's furrowed brow. "Ok. M'sorry Danny. I love you."

Danny smiles then, once more helpless, "I love you too squirt." Then, as if finally noticing Tim, Danny coughs and turns abruptly red. Like, super concernedly red, actually. Tim's worried he might feint.

"Oh, Ancients, sorry," Danny adjusts Ellie to put her down, but she clings to him, still a little upset. Danny smoothly straightens back up, patting her on the back as she nuzzles into his neck.

Seriously, Tim might die.

"Thanks for bringing her back to me." Danny reaches a hand out, "My name's Danny. Is there any way I can repay you for finding her?"

Tim almost says please date me but thankfully, Bat-training has him calm, collected, and in total control of his mouth.

"It's no problem," Tim smiles his best smile—a little awkward in Caroline's fit, but Tim's no stranger to women's clothing. "And I didn't exactly find her." Tim chuckles as he darts a glance at a now perked up Ellie.

"I found them Danny!" Ellie proudly pronounces, wiggling in place in her excitement again before scrunching her face. "Well. I found Caroline. For you!"

"For me?" Danny confusedly tilts his head, even pointing a finger at himself. "Why would you—"

"Jazzy said you're lonely." Ellie whispers loudly into his ear, Tim trying to stifle his laughter as he bites his lips. "And Dante said that you need to find a friend to have sleepovers with."

Danny's face goes alarmingly red again, slapping a hand to cover his eyes as he groans in embarrassment.

"I'm going to kill them—nosey older—" Danny grumbles, before huffing and smiling apologetically at Tim. "I'm really sorry about this Miss Caroline—"

"He's Tim right now!" Ellie interrupts, yanking at Danny's ear and causing him to yelp. "Caroline went to bed. I like Caroline more, 'cause she's so pretty, see?"

Ellie points at all of Tim, which causes him to smile shyly. He notices that Danny follows where Ellie points, gulping when he meets Tim's eyes again. "Y-yeah, I see that squirt but—"

"But Tim's been really nice, he treats me like a proper person! Most people just think I'm a dumb kid."

"You're not dumb." Tim and Danny say in unison, which makes both of them squeak embarrassingly. So much for Bat-training.

"See! So I thought Tim could be for you, and I could play with Caroline sometimes, and Dante could play with Alvin—"

"Alvin?" Danny asks quietly, to which Tim flashes three fingers, before pointing to his head. Danny nods understandingly before focusing back on Ellie. The quick understanding and no reaction makes all sorts of butterflies bloom in Tim's gut. Like a little mosh pit of bugs. Maybe he needs coffee.

"—and so I said that Jazz deserves better than that, right Danny?" Ellie smooshes Danny's cheeks, making him look all sorts of ridiculous and cute. "Maybe we can even share Caroline!"

"-at's right squirt. S-he does." Danny says through his squished face. He scrunches his nose up—which makes their relation seem so very clear, Ellie's the spitting image of him—before bopping his forehead onto hers and making her giggle as she lets go of his face.

"So, uh. this is all very nice of you, Ellie. I, uhm." Danny glances at Tim, wincing a little, "I love that you did something so nice for me, but you can't gift people, so we're gonna let uh, Tim get on their way okay?"

Ellie pouts, wriggling out of Danny's grip to hide behind Tim and grab at his skirt. "But, but you like pretty ladies! And pretty boys!"

"Where did you even get this information?" Danny's voice cracks, frantically looking back and forth between Tim and Ellie as if he's not sure whether to be embarrassed or indignant.

"Sam said you like pretty ladies that look like they can beat you up." Ellie ticks a finger up, looking up as she recalls this info, "and Tucker said you like guys who look like they need to be taked care of."

Danny groans, head in his hands and hunching his shoulders up to scrunch up as small as he can even as Ellie steamrolls over the noise, "And Jazzy and Dante said that you need somebody that can be weird with you."

Danny jolts up, straightening as if he's found some kind of salvation. "Hey, that's right, and I'm sure Tim is a perfectly awesome guy, uh, girl?" Danny looks at Tim in distress, making Tim chuckle.

"Right now I'm a guy." Tim tries to keep his voice soft and low, smiling a little shyly. Distantly, he wonders if he's smudged Caroline's lipstick.

"Right!" Danny coughs, red again, "Right, so he's a perfectly normal guy and totally not weird, Okay, Ellie? C'mon, let's not take up more of Tim's night, okay?"

"I like weird." Tim nonchalantly says, innocent as he lays a hand on Ellie's back. "I mean, I've got at least three people sharing space in my noggin. Sort of." She beams up at him and snuggles closer to his leg, a warm line of comfort and affection. "We can be weird together, I think."

Danny flaps his mouth open and closed, at a loss for words. Tim's not about to explain this whole method acting turned stress relief gender euphoria turned alternate identity thing, so he plows on.

"I'm sometimes a lady—" Ellie interrupts him with an adamant pretty! "—a pretty lady that can definitely put you in your place." Tim does a slow up and down, Caroline peeking through in body memory even if she's not fully forefront.

It makes Danny do that cute little squeak again—-That's three times now, and Tim wants to know if he can manage a fourth. It also makes Danny remember how shirtless he is, making the other man twitch as if he might cover his chest but doesn't want to bring more attention to this fact so he restrains himself.

Tim licks his lips, staring at his pecs and—there's that fourth squeak and arms crossing over that delicious chest.

"And y'know," Tim goes a little shy now, scratching at the back of his neck, "I sometimes forget to sleep and eat." He shrugs with a little moue of distaste as the words he's about to say, "My family says I'm kind of a workaholic and need taking care of."

"Oh!" Ellie bounces up and down, tugging at Tim's skirt again, flashing a little hip that makes Danny eep and slap his hands over his eyes. Big guy like him should not be this freaking cute, seriously. "Oh! Jazzy says Danny's a work-a-ho-lic too!"

"Yeah?" Tim says to Ellie, even as he keeps eye contact with Danny as he's peeking through his fingers, "Guess that means I gotta at least give it a shot, right?"

Tim's not sure where this confidence is coming from: remnants of Caroline, being so free with his other…roommates, Ellie, or Danny's reactions, but it's bolstering him up.

It makes him bold, and kinda reckless. Mr. Sarcastic would approve.

"Yeah!" Ellie agrees, tugging Tim's hand into hers. She pulls him towards Danny, who obliging gives her his hand when she asks for it wordlessly with her own. "You gotta at least try. Jazzy said you give up too much for me!" Ellie makes the saddest, most pathetic looking pout Tim's ever seen. "I don't wanna be the reason you're sad and alone Danny!"

Danny bites his lip, looking at Tim for a long moment. Tim tries to smile reassuredly, to convey that he's totally on board for at least one date. (For maybe many many dates?) His shoulders slump, but his blush is still rampant. It's crawling down his neck, up his cheeks and bleeding into his ears.

He's the cutest thing Tim's ever seen at 4am in the morning.

"O-okay, uhm." Danny fumbles with his phone, "I-I could give you my number?"

"Sounds great." Tim shyly smiles as they exchange numbers, Ellie keeping both their hands hostage as if they might run away the second she lets go. Good thing Tim's ambidextrous. "I'll call you, maybe set something up this weekend?"

"It's a date." Danny smiles, Ellie squealing in excitement and cheering as she finally lets go to jump around.

Just as they get ready to part ways, Ellie tugs at Tim's skirt again, cupping her hands in a bid for Tim to crouch down and lend an ear. He does so obligingly.

"Can Caroline wake up for a second so I can say goodbye?" She whispers loudly. Tim smirks a little, rummaging up the vestiges of Caroline and sort of—blinks.

"Goodnight darling." Caroline does a sly little smile, kissing Ellie on the cheek and winking up at Danny. "And you were right! Your brother is the best."

Ellie beams, giving her a kiss on the cheek back. "Good night, Caroline!"

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