#jut the fucking hope that i would notice and give him space because hes bigger as he floors it in front of me.

[thepoetrytheorist]

California girls are unforgettable.

California drivers make you fucking life flash before your eyes.

[sukirichi]

— there’s always a price to pay when you get your hands on a work of art.

PAIRING: tattoo! artist megumi x reader

REQUEST. tattoo artist au + mutual pining + size kink, praise kink, thigh riding + reader is shorter than megumi and isn’t shy 

WARNINGS: feral megumi, scratching, vaginal sex, size kink, praise kink, mature content, slight overstimulation, sexual tension lol, unedited story

NOTES: ah thank you so much for this request, I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Here is my third contribution for FERAL MEGUMI FRIDAYS! and oh wow tattoo artist megumi uh no thoughts head empty

WC: 5.4k+

The tattoo saloon loomed over you, the neon signs almost blinding in the darkness. You could feel your heart pick up its pace in your chest as you hitched your bag up higher, the excitement settling in your toes. Mustering up the brightest smile you could have, you cleared your throat and pushed the door open, the tiny bell on top jingling to signal your arrival.

Your eyes roamed around the walls covered with intricate drawings, the leather seats dark and kept in pristine. Now that was rare – your leather couches always wore out in just a few weeks.

Making your way inside, grip on your sling bag still tight, you bit your lip as you peaked behind the counter. Empty. No one was there, and the nearby opened rooms were empty as well. Scratching your head, you scrunched your nose in confusion. You were sure you got the right place.

With a heavy sigh, you turned to leave, then stopped in your tracks when a dark-haired man exited a door you hadn’t even noticed at first.

He was tall – taller than you; his arms stretched until the sleeves of his black hoodie were pulled down, revealing a sliver of black tattoos that marked his skin. Upon hearing your awed gasp, his cold blue eyes fluttered to yours, the man – who was absolutely handsome despite his frown – froze in his spot.

You waved a hand to him, your smile bigger than ever. “Hi!” So you would be working with this cute guy? Maybe job-hunting wasn’t such a bad experience, after all.

“Hey,” he drawled out hesitantly, approaching you with his ink stained fingers pointed at you. He was still frowning, which was a damn shame, since you were sure he’d look even hotter if he smiled. “So...you’re Y/N.”

“Yeah!”

“And you...” he tilted his head to the side, inquisitive eyes studying your form. You would’ve felt conscious with the way his brows furrowed, eyes unreadable and lips pressed into a thin line, but you were sure you dressed to impress on your first interview. You admitted, however, that maybe wearing a white collared shirt with a pink tennis skirt made you stand out like a sore thumb in the heaviness of the studio. “...want to be a front desk man here?”

“Yeah!”

“What makes you think you’re qualified for this?” he crossed his arms on his chest, and you didn’t miss the slight bite of his voice. So he was handsome – but cranky. Great. “You don’t look like you fit in here.”

“Judging someone’s appearance and inferring that it has any relation to their credentials isn’t such a professional thing to do, you know,” you raised your chin proudly, jutting a pointer finger to his chest. He clearly didn’t expect this because he scowled and took a step back, while you fought the grin that threatened to paint your face. “Would you like it if people told you that you’re not qualified to be a lawyer because of your tattoos and piercings?”

He scoffed, “I don’t want to be a lawyer. As you can see, I’m a tattoo artist. And to answer your question, no, I don’t give a fuck what people think about me.”

“I can tell,” you muttered to yourself before smiling back up at him. He was too easy to read; his brow quivering and lips firm at your faux enthusiasm. “But yes, I do believe I’m qualified! I’m a fast learner and I’m even quick on my feet! I’m really good at talking to people too so I believe I can help schedule client appointments really well and guide them with this whole process.”

“Being front desk man doesn’t mean serving the clients tea and biscuits.”

“I know.”

“You know?” he snorted with a roll of his eyes. He then gestured you to follow him all the way back to the front desk. You expected he’d teach you about how to handle the appointment books or pick up phone calls, but instead he plopped down on the leather couch of the waiting area, his legs crossed on top of the other.

Your eyes followed the patch of pale skin exposed from his ripped jeans before you looked away, not wanting him to see that you found him attractive despite his less than welcoming personality.

“What exactly do you know about this industry?”

“Nothing, to be honest, but I’m not here to be a tattoo artist or anything. I just really need a job and I assure you I’ve got plenty of experience and knowledge when it comes to manning front desks or counters,” you stated confidently, “I know I look out of place, but I really need this job.”

The man only narrowed his eyes at you. Contemplation was written all over his face, probably wondering why you couldn’t just work somewhere else. “Why come here, of all places?”

“Because it’s the only one that has a flexible schedule,” you sighed, “I can’t work shifts anymore because I’m too busy at university. From when I talked to your boss – Geto, was it? – he said that the salon was open 24/7 and I could work until before my classes start. He’s not really strict about that kind of thing.”

“So you mean to tell me,” he leaned forwards, looping his fingers with one another while his ice cold gaze slithered over your desperate ones. “You’ll be at university for half the day, sleep until midnight, and then come here to work and attend class a few hours later? Isn’t your schedule a little irregular?”

“Oh no, it’s not like that! I also have mock classes after uni and it lasts until late at night, then I help clean at the local shelter. They’re running out of volunteers and the dogs are really adorable and take my stress away so...I make sure to come by when I have time.”

“You are one odd creature,” he noted loudly, almost as if he wasn’t completely aware he vocalized his thoughts. Well, at least now you knew he wasn’t the type to think his words over, which either made him more entertaining – or insufferable the longer you worked with him – if you began working anyway. “You could’ve used your spare time to rest. Do you even eat?”

“Yeah, I have a granola bar right now with me! I actually brought two,” you pulled out the snack from your bag, “You want some? I only got the oats, though.”

“Keep it to yourself,” he rolled his eyes, slapping his hands over his knees before rummaging over something behind the counter. “Fine. If Geto said he’s okay with you, then you’re hired.”

“Really, that easy?” your eyes widened, but then you chuckled when this strange man glared at you in response. He sighed as he pulled out a piece of paper, a pen on top of it. The papers read something about application forms and credentials, and you beamed, happily writing your information away with a slight bounce in your toes.

Unable to keep your happiness to yourself, you looked back at the bored man, wiggling your eyebrows playfully. “Huh. I was kind of expecting you would grill me – you’ve got that scary look in your eye. Let me guess, you often scare clients off?”

It seemed he could never get tired of glaring at you, because his eyes fuelled with heat as he leaned against the wall.

You hated to admit that he looked ridiculously handsome like that – the guy wasn’t even doing anything remotely attractive in the first place!

“I’m the most booked artist here, and I ask that you don’t get too comfortable with me. You haven’t even started working here and you’re already riling up on my train,” he groaned when you merely laughed in response. He made quick work of signing something in your form before handing you a key. “Here’s for your locker. Come to work tomorrow. Geto won’t be around for a week so I’ll be the one judging your performance. If you fuck up in the slightest – I won’t hesitate to fire you, you understand? We always have Yuuji coming around anyway, you’re really not that needed for the front desk.”

“Oh,” you nodded at his harshness, unsure whether to feel threatened or amused. “O-okay. I’ll do my best then. I look forward to you – ah, wait, what’s your name?”

“Fushiguro Megumi.”

“Oh, that’s a pretty name,” you muttered to yourself, uttering his name over and over again until it rolled smoothly on your tongue. “Shame you have a shitty attitude along with that handsome face, though.”

“You trying to say something?”

You faced him, about to laugh when he scowled at your not-so-subtle comments. Waving your hands to him, you made your way out the door, your smile only irritating him further. “No, I wasn’t. I’ll be taking my leave then – see you tomorrow!”

Seems like working in a tattoo studio wouldn’t be so bad.

You came to work the next day early and pumped with adrenaline. The idea of meeting the moody tattoo artist caused you to be giggly and happy the whole day, not even feeling the exhaustion of a long day of hard work as you made your way inside the shop.

Clocking in at exactly two in the morning, you proudly tugged your name badge on top of your left breast, patting it for good luck.

The bells jingled, making you look away from your tag. “Good morning – oh, where’s Megumi?” The man standing in front of you was taller than Megumi, his head nearly knocking over the doorframe if it wasn’t for his poor, slouched lanky frame.

He had white hair that brushed atop his cerulean blue eyes, and your eyes widened because wow, he was beautiful.

“Hey, you must be Y/N! Megumi told me you came around yesterday but he didn’t tell me the counter girl was this pretty,” He was in front of you the next second, his nose nearly grazing over yours that had you leaning back into the wall for space. “Hmm...he didn’t tell me that at all.”

“Oh, thank you. You are...?”

“I’m Gojo Satoru, one of the senior artists here. Since Megumi isn’t here yet, let me give you a tour!” Before you could react, Satoru already had an arm wrapped around your shoulder, his other arm waving and pointing to all the hung paintings and labels on each door. You found it odd that he treated you like you were an old friend, but you weren’t going to complain. Nice co-workers were always welcomed.

“Here is the holding area where clients wait to get their session done. This is Geto’s studio and right next to that is his office where he does all the finances and all that jazz, while this is my studio. Cool, isn’t it?”

Your mouth fell ajar as Satoru led you inside his studio, the walls painted the same aquatic shade of his eyes, but what caught your attention was the galaxy themed tattoo designs he made. They came in different shapes – a volcano head, a dragon, a worm, a four-armed monster – but inside them were all galaxies with sparkling and burning stars. You could see everything and nothing all at the same time.

“Whoa, you made all this?!”

Satoru’s chest puffed out proudly, “Yeah, I did. I’m flattered by your reaction, I really am, but you haven’t seen Megumi’s yet. There’s a reason our salon boomed even though he’s only been working here for two years.”

At the mention of his name, your interest was piqued, all ears and curious smiles directed to Satoru. “Oh, can I see Megumi’s studio?”

“You can – if you book an appointment.”

“But I don’t plan on getting any tattoos,” you frowned.

“You’ll never get to see his work then,” he chuckled to himself, the sound growing louder when you visibly deflated. What was the point of getting your hopes up like that then? “Megumi doesn’t like letting others in his studio without permission or an appointment.”

“Why not?”

“He’s just iffy about it,” he shrugged, “Don’t bother trying to decode his personality anymore, Megumi’s very hard to understand. Though if I were to make sense of it...” he rubbed his chin, eyes looking out into the distance. “I guess you could say Megumi’s not the type to be showy when it comes to his work of art. Did that clear it up?”

You blinked back blankly. “No, not really. But it’s fine – I don’t plan on getting to know him anyway.”

That was the biggest lie of your life.

The moment Megumi came around a few minutes later, a loud groan upon your animated greeting over his arrival, your chest bloomed with a different kind of fluttery warmth. He rarely came out after that, clients swarming in to both his and Satoru’s studios, but each faint glimpse of his door cracking open that allowed you to see him focused as he worked, you could no longer deny the heat burning down your legs.

You crushed on the grumpy tattoo artist.

And the more you came around work, greeting him zealously and teasing him to no end that he’d look hotter if he smiled, your crush only intensified for him – completely unaware that he too, couldn’t get his thoughts off of you even with his door closed.

In fact, he kept his door closed all the time because your voice distracted him too much.

“Hey, Y/N, you free?”

You looked up from the textbook you were reviewing, slamming it shut when Satoru’s head peeked out from his studio. He was still wearing gloves with a pen between his fingers, most likely still in the middle of a session.

“Yep! We don’t have appointments yet and I’ve already closed it for non-appointees. Did you need me to get you something?”

“Yeah, could you get Megumi for me? He isn’t picking his phone up and one of our special clients are coming soon. I’m packed right now so I can’t fetch him. I’ll send you the address and you get him, yeah? Just open the counter if you need money for a cab.”

You blinked owlishly at him. On one side, you’d be more than glad to see Megumi again. He hadn’t arrived despite it being four in the morning already, and you were worried, but you also didn’t have his number to ask how he was doing. Progress with Megumi was...slow, to say the least.

He still holed himself up in his studio, coming out only for bathroom breaks, although you noticed a drastic improvement when he finally began to mutter an almost shy “good morning” under his breath for the past few weeks.

It wasn’t much, but you’d have to make do.

“Uhm, when is this client of his coming? Should I run...?”

“Yeah, you need to fucking run. They’re coming in an hour and a half!” Satoru exclaimed, flailing his hands around like a madman.

Even after working with him for some time, you still couldn’t believe the older man was practically a man child, even asking for head pats sometimes. He would lean down with a pout, using a squeaky voice to call your attention, which always succeeded in Megumi fake gagging before he locked himself inside his studio.

“Forwarded you his address. Really sorry for the inconvenience, Y/N!”

“It’s okay!” you jumped out of your seat in an instant, not bothering to take your name tag off anymore as you left the salon, hailing the nearest cab.

Megumi lived quite far from the salon, which had you wondering why he chose to work there when there were plenty of salons in his area too. His place looked shady, as well, his apartment in a high-rise building with endless graffiti and several drunk stragglers hooting for you.

You ignored them all, taking two steps at a time from his staircase, your hands on your knees as you panted for air. Why did he have to live on the tenth floor?

“Megumi! Megumi!” you banged your fist on the door, throat parched from your sudden cardio session. You were sure you burned ten calories just from that sprint, and you sighed in relief when Megumi swung the door open, still looking handsome – and sleep-deprived – as ever in his black shirt and black skinny jeans.

“What?” he demanded. After seeing that it was you, he quickly snatched a water bottle and passed it your way, closing his door behind him. “Y/N? What are you doing here? How’d you know where I live?”

“Satoru said you had a really important client. You weren’t picking your phone up so he sent me to come get you.”

“It’s my day off,” he grumbled, answering your silent questions, your worries dissipating into thin air. Once you’d satisfied yourself by basically dunking the entire bottle, Megumi rolled his eyes, his hands flat on the small of your back while he guided you downstairs. The sudden touch flamed your cheeks; a stupid smile on your face. You were shameless, though, leaning back closer to him in the darkness of the early morning. “Why does he send a girl out of all people?”

“Something wrong with that?”

“It’s unsafe. My neighbourhood isn’t the best and who knows what would’ve happened to you if some goons came out?” Megumi hailed for a back, surprising you when he let you get in first and paid for the fee despite your outstretched hand prepared with the bills. “I can’t believe Sukuna chose this day to come of all times. I can never get a damn break.”

“Sukuna?”

“A special client. He’s a really huge tipper and comes on odd schedules – I didn’t think he’d come now.”

“Yeah, I checked the papers and he wasn’t there,” you frowned to yourself.

Megumi pressed his head against the window, eyes closed as his chest heaved up and down rhythmically. With the sun slowly shining from behind you, the golden stretches of it outlined his sharp features you adored, and you rested your chin on your palms, eyelashes fluttering at his beauty. “You know, Megumi, you’re really pissy sometimes – but you’re quite nice, aren’t you? I’d say you were even worried for me.”

He cracked one eye open, those blue eyes still shining with irritation, but make no mistake since his ears were flushed red. “I’m not. I just don’t want to be involved in a police investigation if they find your body near here.”

“How sweet of you.”

“Shut up.”

You and Megumi were beginning to get closer. You couldn’t pinpoint where he started to grow more comfortable with you, but it was definitely there and it was painfully evident that even someone stupid like Satoru noticed the sexual between you two.

He would always sniff the air whenever you and Megumi sat next to each other during lunch breaks, a wide grin on your face while Megumi buried his face in his hands, groaning because he knew the moment Satoru opened his mouth, nothing but dumb comments would come out. And dumb comments they were; the white-haired man merciless as he teased Megumi for acting like a cute little kid around you.

You never took it to heart, though. It was Megumi you were talking about; he was hot and cold; sweet then distant from one moment then an entire person the next.

Not that you minded, it only added to your fuelling crush on him, but you couldn’t control the way your heart fluttered every time Satoru whispered that he did like you, excusing that Megumi just wasn’t the best with words. Apparently, Megumi had spent too much time holed up in his apartment and studio that he had zero to little knowledge on how to talk to pretty girls – especially one that was clearly attracted to him as well.

Satoru encouraged you to go for it – that you should confess or break the ice first otherwise Megumi would never do anything about his raging boner every time you came around.

You only flushed at his statement, but you couldn’t deny that you too felt the same way.

One morning where Satoru and Geto were out restocking supplies, you and Megumi were left alone in the salon. Of course, he still resorted in the comfort of his studio, muttering under his breath that he wanted to try some designs before disappearing. Only this time, he left the door slightly open, the lights peeking through the slight crack.

Walking up to him with muted footsteps, you leaned over his shoulder, glancing over a sketch of...you? “Are you drawing me?”

Megumi yelped at your voice right next to his ear, throwing the paper away on the other side of the room before glaring at you. You laughed at his reaction, because how was it possible he was both so criminally sexy yet adorable? He looked terribly gorgeous today, as well, wearing a short sleeved black hoodie and black sweatpants, looking so comfortable and boyfriend like – and you couldn’t even begin to express your appreciation over his new lip piercing.

“Why do you always sneak up on me?” he snapped, “Didn’t I tell you I wanted privacy?”

“Then why aren’t you pushing me away?”

Megumi sighed exasperatedly, turning back to organize his pencils before glaring at you. “What do you want? Got no one else to bother since Satoru isn’t around?”

“I just wanted to see your art,” you mentioned, but kept your eyes directed on him instead of the plethora of sketches and designs hanging from his wall as to not offend him. “Satoru told me to never come inside. He said you’re really...private when it comes to your works,” you furrowed your brows at the last part, feeling your heart beat pulse at your tongue.

It was now or never.

“Can I see your tattoos too?”

“Why do you want to see them?”

“A work of art on a canvas who’s also a work of art himself?” you finally gained confidence to tease him again, getting riled up further when Megumi stiffened at your curious hands travelling under his shirt. His breath sharpened as his glare only deepened, though he didn’t make a move to stop you. “Why wouldn’t I want to see that?”

“Being flirty doesn’t work on you. It’s not cute.”

“You’re blushing though,” you remarked. Megumi groaned and pushed your face away until your buttocks landed on his recliner. Satisfied with Megumi not completely kicking you out, you swung your legs back and forth, still staring at his hoodie as if it was an offensive material.

“Can I...see?” Megumi rolled his eyes before he lifted his shirt up, revealing to you intricate patches of black ink splattered over ripples of muscles. Your mouth salivated, and somewhere down there, you drooled too. Tentatively, your hands reached out to finger the image of canines, Megumi shuddering over your cold touch on his warm skin. “It’s beautiful. What does it mean?”

Megumi pursed his lips before whispering, “These are the dogs I had as a child. My father got me them so I wouldn’t be too lonely when he’s away from work.”

“They’re very pretty. They look like black and white wolves,” you smiled, elated that he was opening up in more ways than one. Your touch flitted over to a winged creature under his left collarbone, small letters beside the image. “And this bird? Nue? He’s so majestic,” Your hands never stopped in trailing over his skin like a lost wanderer, sweeping over ink ink until Megumi completely discarded his hoodie to the side, his back faced to you.

A white viper tattoo stood large on his broad back, crawling until over his shoulder with the fangs ending just above his pecs. Megumi swallowed at each slivering touch, your fingers dipping and caressing every dent and curve of his body.

You couldn’t get your eyes off of him, your breath hitching in your throat as one of your hands gripped his biceps subconsciously. “You’re so beautiful.”

Megumi stiffened when your thumbs grazed over his nipple right next to the viper’s fang. Almost as if a switch was triggered inside him, Megumi growled, ducking to capture your lips with his in a sloppy, heated kiss. His hands tugged at the ends of your hair to arch your neck to him, his knees slapping your legs open before he settled comfortably between you, his low groans mixing with your breath moans.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. From the moment I met you,” he nibbled your lips, hands trailing down to thumb at your hipbones. “I knew that innocent good girl look was nothing but an act.”

You smiled through the kiss, a tiny gasp falling from your lips when Megumi pulled you closer until your heat grinded against the hardness inside his pants. Laughing at his harsh movements, you let Megumi tilt your head back, his lips sucking and teeth gently nipping at the sensitive flesh of your neck.

“Innocent girl?” you echoed, legs now wrapped around his waist to pull him closer. “What makes you think I am?”

“White lace panties? Short tennis skirts and sunshine smiles?” Megumi clenched his teeth, his hands eager as he tugged the white lace down until it looped to your ankles. You gasped, back arching when he thrusted two fingers inside you, curling and fingering against your bumpy walls. “You’re not fooling anyone, baby, especially not me.”

“Took you long enough to understand I wanted you though,” you chuckled through broken moans, eyes shut tight while your legs opened wider, heels digging into the hard cushion of his seats. “I was wondering when I’d get to break you from that tough guy act of yours and have you fuck me good,” Megumi growled at your words. You leaned forward to scratch at his chest, your tongue licking the shell of your ear as you rasped, “And on a side note, I am a good girl – only to those who can make me feel good, of course.”

Megumi cupped his palm to collect your arousal dripping of his, finally shutting you up when his fingers grazed over your sweet spot that had you clenching around him. And those were just his fingers. “You’re something else, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I know,” you nodded smugly, hands coming up to tug harshly at his hair. Megumi hissed at the sharp pain, prompting him to fuck his fingers in and out of you faster until you leaked down to his chair, thighs trembling and your high-pitched moans coating the walls of his stupid. “Megumi, ah! Just shut up and fuck me already – been wanting you long enough.”

“Needy little girl,” He pressed you down on the reclining seat, settling between your legs before he spread your lips open with two thumbs. At the sight of your bare cunt clenching around nothing, Megumi groaned, teeth biting his lip because he could cum right then and there. “Fuck, look at you. So wet already,” he ran a hand over your slit to collect your arousal, eyes dark with lust as your juices webbed between his fingers. “All this for me? You’re so good.”

“Fuck – yeah, yeah I am,” you leaned back harder into the seat, groping at your own breasts while you nodded dumbly, too fucked out to even form a coherent response. “Going to be good for you, Megumi, gonna make you feel good.”

“Sorry, babe, maybe next time. I’m too impatient to not feel your pussy around me,” he pushed away at your hands that planned to pump his cock, his hand coming down to push you hard against the seat until his weight loomed over you.

You felt Megumi begin to align his tip at your center, dampening his mushroom head with your arousal first that had you both moaning left and right.

Hands scratching down his back as your teeth dug into your lips, Megumi pushed into you with one thrust, the sudden stretch making your legs shake and your body writhe underneath him. “Shit, why are you so tight? So fucking warm and perfect,” he rasped next to your ear, and you could hear how hard he was breathing as he thrusted into you, his cock hitting all the right places.  “Could fuck this pretty pussy all day, baby, shit.”

“Me-Megumi – t-too big!”

“Shh, you’ll be fine. You’ll take it like a good girl, won’t you?” he cupped your cheek, grinning sinisterly as he watched the way your greedy walls sucked him in. “See how you take me so well? You’re so small and pretty wrapped around my cock. I could break you if I wanted you,” he growled, his hands gripping hard at your hips when you clenched around him, enticing the man above you to quicken his pace.

Megumi watched with a lust filled gaze as your breasts bounced at the relentless pace he started, his balls slapping at your ass. “Oh, you’d want that, wouldn’t you? You want to be stuffed with my fat cock in you? Fuck you until you’re a drooling mess? You’re so gorgeous when I fuck you stupid.”

“Yes, Megumi, agh. Keep going, keep going, I’m so close!”

“Oh, you feel like heaven around me,” he praised at your neck, his cock stretching you wide and pushing into you. Megumi groaned lowly at your ear as his palms flattened over your stomach that bulged every time he thrusted in, his balls tightening at the sight. “Look at how big I am for you, baby, but you’re doing so well. You were made for me – made to take my cock, shit, you’re so perfect around me. Gonna make you feel good, yeah? You’re such a good girl for me. Cum, baby, that’s right – I’m allowing you to cum.”

“Gumi, Gumi, fuckkk,” your legs tightened around him as Megumi panted with each harsh thrust, the black marks over his skin expanding and stretch when his forearm rested beside your head. His muscles clenched as he fucked into you deep, over and over again until he pushed you over the edge.

A silent sob left your lips when you came around him, your juices creaming around his cock. A few thrusts later, Megumi fell on top of you as you felt him spill his seed inside you.

He had too much that you felt both your cum dripping down your ass; Megumi pulling out with a slight wince from the oversensitivity. You struggled to catch your breath as you laid there, legs wide open and the cool air hitting your bare pussy. The door was still open, and Satoru and Geto could walk in on you both looking like this, but you couldn’t care, not when you could barely feel your legs.

You dropped your arm over your face, hearing Megumi pull his pants back up. “That was...”

“Intense?”

“Yeah,” you chuckled, wincing as you sat up. Your hair stuck to your forehead in sweaty clumps, dawning on you now that you were still very much covered in your sticky cum. You recoiled from the seats as you realized Megumi hadn’t even put on a towel underneath.

“Shit. Is this chair even clean?”

“I sanitize it every after session. Don’t worry about it,” he rolled his eyes, his tattoos covered and hidden from your sight once more when he pulled his hoodie over his head. Megumi retrieved a clean towel from his drawers and wiped at your sensitive pussy, your legs immediately closing around his hands when the towel accidentally grazed your clit.

Megumi gripped your knees with a silent glare. “Stay still. I’m cleaning you up.”

“I didn’t peg you as an aftercare guy. Thought you would leave me hanging here,” you teased, but really, you were feeling warm all over again as you watched Megumi wipe you all the way down to your other hole, your legs still tensing up.

Once he left to wash his hands, you could relax, tugging your panties back up with immense struggle. He wasn’t kidding when he said he’d fuck you good – you could barely feel your legs now.

“And have you make a mess by ruining my seat?” he sighed as he returned, helping you seady yourself while he snapped the slightly soaked panty back to your core. “No thanks.”

“You’re so mean, Megumi. I’m hurt.”

He rolled his eyes at your pout, leaning down to kiss you square on the lips. This time around, the kiss wasn’t rushed; it was slow and sensual, firm yet gentle, and his hands carefully massaged your sore hips that would soon bruise from his grip before.

“No, you’re not,” he mumbled through your lips, mimicking that lovesick smile on your face as he pulled away. “But babe, you know the rules. Now that you’ve seen my work of art – what tattoo would you like me to give you? My name on your inner thigh?”

[sinisterlyhan]

01. lee minho / 9486 words

fwb!minho, oral (f & m receiving), unprotexted sex, female reader, slight angst and fluff, romance, lots of kissing, mc being kind of a brat, minho being kinda dominant 

a/n: ahh, i finally wrote for minho! i hope this is good ;;

the thee bags of sugar you poured into your cup of hot coffee have probably been completely dissolved by now, considering the obsessive way you kept stirring the liquid with your teaspoon and not actually drinking it.

keeping your eyes out the glass window by the coffee booth, you allowed your mind to drift off to a familiarly foreign place as you mindlessly watched the passersby.

your lashes fluttered along with each shift of your eyes, your gaze jumping from one insignificant person to another as you accessed the idea that people are literally everywhere around you—annoying kids, depressed students, tired parents, and the slow folks.

the concept, more than often, flies past you on a daily. therefore, when you sit down and truly acknowledge the number of people you brush past every day, it is quite a staggering fact.

but what’s more bewildering than that, though, was the fact that out of all these people you could meet and think about, the only person who has ever really been on your mind was lee minho—a nice classmate, a good friend, and a few quick fucks.

a few. you heaved a lonesome sigh and replaced it with a bitter huff of laughter.

you wished it was only a few quick fucks. you should have stopped after a few of them and you should have never picked your hand up and sealed his ‘fuck buddy?’ deal with a firm handshake. but you were lonely back then, dry and lonely.

you had wanted love, genuine or not, and minho’s seductive kisses down your body were the closest thing you could get to feeling appreciated, so you made the biggest mistake of agreeing to be friends with benefits with him.

it has been half a year since you two established the relationship; the sex was frequent during the first few weeks, and then the passionate nights started to space out a little until you two spent more time with plans to hang out than to fuck each other.

your immature mind hadn’t been smart enough to fathom the idea of you ever falling in love with somebody like minho, because you knew you weren’t the type to blatantly fall for someone out of your league. it was the kick that got your to seal the contract.

but alas, minho has been more than irresistible the past few months.

he wasn’t just a fuck buddy, he has never been just that from the start of it all. nothing about your new relationship was awkward despite you two being silent classmates for so long until a house party came and messed it all up. and unlike what you expected, he never tried to distance himself to keep that sole status.

he wasn’t aloof, nor did he act like a stranger. minho was a good friend, a good classmate, and a good fuck if you may say so.

he has helped you with your classes numerous times; printing assignments last minute for you in the library because you were too sleepy to do so last night, scanning his thorough notes for you unprompted because he noticed you struggling during class, reading through your materials out of his class time just so he could further explain something to you.

he’s also been the best emotional support you’ve had; he has never complained when you unreasonably snapped at him because of too much stress, he puts up with your constant overthinking and temper tantrums, and he gets you snacks on his own grocery run because he thought you might get some cravings sometime during the day.

and, of course, the sex has never once been dull ever since you met him, but it was in a lot of the little things he does that makes your heart ache the most; it was him always making sure you’re okay, and him constantly giving you praises. how he loves to make eye contact and hold your hands. how he knows exactly when to be soft and when to be hard.

when did he stop being just minho to you, you haven’t the faintest idea. but your feelings for him have changed drastically over these amazing months, and it became your downfall because he has not contacted you for weeks.

just complete radio silence, nothing, gone.

“i’m telling you he likes you, okay?”

you rolled your eyes as you snapped out of your trance. turning your head to look at jisung, you pursed your lips and shrugged in bland disbelief. “shut up.“

“no, you shut up and listen to me,” he leaned forward on his seat, his eyes glaring because he was sick and tired of being ignored by both of his friends. but now he’s got a fifty-fifty chance of being a matchmaker, so he planned to go all out. “i have known minho for as long as my fat baby legs can waddle to the sandbox in the park, okay. and not once have i seen him run away like this.”

“this, this thing that he is doing?” his finger excitedly jammed against the surface of the table as he stared at you pointedly, emphasizing his words with each jut of his jaw. “this is serious, and what serious thing can he be afraid of?“

you waited for him to speak, but the silence he purposefully left out was urging to be filled in. you looked away, baffled, and you scrambled your mind to think of something to say.

“i don’t know? faili–“

“wrong!”

“a dise–“

“terrible answer!”

“ma–“

“zero points for yo–ow!”

“knock it off, jisung!” you scolded with annoyance after you flicked his forehead with your fingers, shoving his head back to the cushion of the booth seat. “i know what you want me to say… i just won’t say it.”

“he loves you, (name),” jisung said, hiding every bit of uncertainty behind his persuasive facade—his presentation face, as he calls it. “i really think he does.”

and he wasn’t lying. jisung gave the situation a fair share of analyzing, and he concluded with the fact that minho might just have fallen in love with you. because one thing he knew about minho was that while he is kind, he is not nice.

there is a distinctive difference; kindness is selective, it is earned, it is given by choice. nice is blind, it is a mindless thought, a moral conscious.

anything that goes between minho and his goal, or his dignity, or some dramatic factors as such, minho will not hesitate to lash out. he is kind, not nice.

and you—you’ve been plucking the kindness out of him like he was a river that could never run dry.

disrupting his study schedule to tutor you? ditching his long-term friends to keep you company? apologizing first and being the bigger person in petty arguments?

minho was good to you when he didn’t have to, and he still was kind to you when he didn’t want to. he wanted to keep you happy, he gets the thrill of being able to take care of you, and you can feel comfortable around him.

jisung would even go so far to say minho was head over heels for you now, with his heart bleeding dry for your sake. and he’s running away from it because the concept, the feeling was foreign to him.

“just go to his house, find him. he probably misses you like crazy,” he urged tentatively. “talk it out, or fuck it out if that’s what you guys are used to.”

“do you think it’s that easy? like i can just go up to his home and kiss him?“ you asked, exasperated that jisung didn’t seem to understand the limitation of your tolerance for humiliation and appearing desperate to other people.

“sure, why not! i’d totally do that if i were you!” he boasted, clapping his fist to his chest as he huffed through his nose. “it’s not like he isn’t jerking off to the thought of you anyway! it’s either that or he’s crying himself to sleep at night!”

“that’s…” your voice awkwardly trailed off.

“too much?”

“no, no, just…” you hummed with a slight shake of your head, unable to break through his innocent gaze and not sure how to tell him you missed seeing minho in his naked glory. so instead, you chose to back down. “nothing.”

you blinked, still processing his previous words in your head as you finally brought your coffee up to your mouth to take a short sip.

the sugary taste was barely seeping into the bitterness of your coffee, the last three bags of sugar you added having done nothing to help you savor the taste. and you thought about how minho would probably switch his drink with you or offer to order you a new one if he was here.

jisung watched as you put down your cup and reached for another bag of sugar. he laughed, shifting his legs and leaning against the back of the booth. “the sugar is bad for you.”

“i know,” you muttered as you shook the bag and let the content spill all over your drink.

jisung watched with nonchalance as you picked up your metal spoon and started stirring your coffee again. and he didn’t say a single word.

minho pushed his glasses perched upon the bridge of his nose, and he continued with his note-taking as his eyes focused on the massive text displayed on his laptop screen.

it was all he has done this day. right after morning classes, he headed out for lunch by himself and simply went home. he tried to ignore the stubborn unfamiliarity of spending most of his time alone, hoping the ghost of your voice would eventually stop haunting his heavy steps into the local boba shop, or even just to the edge of his bed when he decided to take a short nap.

he woke up alone, dazed and annoyed. but he was mostly tired; tired of being alone when he knew you were a call away, tired of drowning in chosen solidarity because he wasn’t brave enough to confront his feelings, tired of being scared that you wouldn’t return the affection his heart discreetly held for you.

it was very unlike him, and the change was frustrating. minho never thought himself to succumb to romance yet here he was, making bad decisions and pushing you away when all he wanted was to hold your body close.

the uneven grip on his pen caused him a sudden scrape across the lined-paper. he glanced down the rogue tweak of the letter 'r’ and he clicked his tongue. dropping the pen, he rummaged through his crowded pencil case for a white-out, just in time as the doorbell to his apartment rang.

he furrowed his brows as he perked up, his head turning to look behind his shoulder at the door. discarding the matter at hand, he stood up and made his way to the front door, where he sung the door open and immediately revealed you standing before him.

“hi,” you breathed out when you met eyes with him, your gaze hardening slightly in sudden timidity.

minho gave you a quick scan before he nodded. he, too, feeling rather awkward at what felt like a confrontation to him. “hey.“

“can i come in, or are you going to keep shutting me out?” you laughed meekly, pointing into his apartment and letting your eyes move away from him briefly before returning to his face. “i’m already here anyway, you might as well.”

“i… yeah, sure, come in,” he said, taking a step aside as he opened the door for you. he watched you head inside, kicking your shoes off and shoving them to the side. he eyed the plastic cup in your hand, and he attempted to make light conversation out of it. “you got coffee?”

“oh, yeah. i was hanging out with jisung just then,” you said, turning to face him. you stuck your hand out, giving him the cup. “do you wanna try some?”

“no, i’m good.” he waved his hand.

you looked at him, a faint pout forming on your face before you shrugged and brought the straw up to your mouth. “okay then, it’s probably better for you anyway,” you sipped the coffee, “i dumped like… six bags of sugar in it.”

the change of facial expressions on his face was priceless. he went from processing your words in confusion, then his eyes widened in surprise, and at last his brows furrowed in dismay that you were still sipping the drink like you didn’t just turn it into a liquefied candy cane.

“okay, no, i’m confiscating it,” he said after allowing you a few more obnoxious sip. he grabbed the cup away from you and held it out of your reach, ignoring your continuous protest. “do you know how unhealthy that is?”

“yes, but it’s sweet!“ you complained.

“it’s sweet until you get type-two diabetes.” He rolled his eyes, turning around and heading over to the fridge located in the open area where the kitchen was. “especially when you don’t just drink one cup of coffee every other week, you drink it several times a week, which can toll up to a lot of sugar intake and i am not about to let you run around self-sabotaging your health–”

he stopped talking when he turned away from the fridge and immediately saw you standing before him. the proximity of your faces was a little too close for his liking—not his subconscious, just his stubbornness—and he didn’t know what to do when he was confronted with it so abruptly.

he hasn’t seen you in some time, which gave him no opportunity to create such intimacy. and even though he had missed being able to feel comfortable with you being close, he suddenly didn’t know what to do. he would love to keep his emotions in check, and he would love to not spill secrets he had no intention to tell.

you glanced down to his lips and automatically huffed. jisung’s words flew back into your mind then, telling you to just kiss him now that you’ve made a mistake of stepping into his personal bubble. it wasn’t like minho was actively pushing you out anyway. you could just try, and if it doesn’t work out in your favor, you could just play it off.

a gasp left his chest when you suddenly leaned in and kissed him. your hands went up to cup his jaw, bringing him closer to you when you felt him starting to reciprocate the kiss. you have longed to do this for so long, sometimes it felt like you’d forget the way his lips feel if you go without it for one more day.

the nervousness within was slowly started to vanish, but part of your brain registered how minho wasn’t kissing you with the same vigor he used to whenever you two share a kiss. it felt out of place to feel his mouth move so slowly against your own, and it was not in a harmonious way.

his lips slacked against yours because his brain wasn’t functioning well. minho has missed you more than ever and this—this was practically a dream come true! he was finally kissing you again, and he wanted nothing more than to keep going, to put roam his hands all over you again.

but he couldn’t. he couldn’t allow himself more depths to fall for you, he couldn’t keep digging his own grave with uncertainty and doubt.

he would rather guarantee he can still be friends with you after sorting out his feelings, than risk you not returning his affection and jeopardizing your comfortable relationship.

“w–wait, (name)–stop–” he pulled away from you, taking in a breath of fresh air when his lips detached from yours. the air was eerily cold, he didn’t like it at all.

your hands dropped from his face, your heart sinking to your stomach the same way. that was enough indication—him pushing you off pretty much told you everything you needed to know about how he felt, and god, you felt so conflicted at the discovery.

you were mad at yourself for letting him allow so much control over you. the sheer anger that bubbled in your chest when you felt tears brimming at the back of your eyes was immeasurable. you warned yourself about this, you warned yourself about him, yet you still fell. and now you felt weak and hopeless because he didn’t love you back.

you also felt wronged somehow. the fact that minho has been such a kind friend to you has given you the false assumption that he would at least give you an explanation. if he didn’t want to keep the sexual relationship, he should have just been truthful to you instead of trying to ghost you for weeks and leaving you to your lonely thoughts.

but you wouldn’t have cared if you didn’t like him. him ignoring you wouldn’t have been a problem if you didn’t fall for him.

“what is your fucking problem, minho?” you asked, your anger boiling up. but despite that, your voice was more leveled than ever, as if you were exhausted. it was all being suppressed in your chest, burning and rotting away.

you smiled at him a little, the forced kind of smile, and you sarcastically laughed when you spoke, “if you got bored of me, you could have just said so.”

minho opened his mouth, surprised. but the light glimmer behind your eyes created a new kind of chaos in his head. he has seen you cry before, and this time it was all him.

“i–no, that wasn’t the problem, i just–”

“did i do something then? are you mad at me, or something like that?“ you cut him off with a scoff, shaking your head slightly as you frowned at him. “because you left me alone for weeks. you were a terrible friend to me, and i had no idea if it was me or you.”

“i’m not bored of you, (name). neither am i mad at you,” he replied quickly, sighing as he looked at you with softened eyes. “it's—something personal happened, nothing was your fault.”

you pursed your lips together, feeling slightly less agitated as your questions slowly got resolved one by one. “what is it, then? what happened to you?“

“i…” i fell in love with you.

you waited for seconds for him to talk but all minho could do was look down at the floor, fearing for what would happen to you and him if he ever told the truth. a sigh left your lips at his silence, disappointed that he couldn’t give you a proper answer.

“fine, don’t tell me,” you said, turning around to leave the kitchen area.

“hey, wait, where are you going?” he followed suit, panic flooding into his eyes.

“away from you,” you muttered as you put on your shoes. “don’t worry about seeing me again, i won’t bother you anymore.”

minho hasn’t realized he was unintentionally ruining the relationship until this point. in his attempt to keep his feelings secured and hidden, all to prevent the breakage of your friendship, he failed to notice the damage all the avoiding did to it.

now you were planning to leave him forever, to walk out and completely cut him out of your life. and oh, he was scared. he could not bear to never seeing you again, or even just to stomach the thought of you hating him because of his stupidity.

“wait, no, hold on–” he grabbed ahold of your hand when you grabbed the doorknob. before you could fling him away, he turned you around to face him and, impulsively, grabbed your face to crash his lips against yours.

yes, crash. with the amount of force he was using, the word crash would deem fit. you tried to push him away from you, but your little fists were futile to his broad chest, and soon enough he had you weak at the weeks with the exasperating way he was kissing you.

you could taste this one, his emotions were vivid at the tip of his tongue as he finally learned to surrender himself into you. he was desperate, he was lustful, he was burning at the tips of his skin just to kiss you like there is nothing else he could mean more than this exact moment.

when he pulled away, he leaned his forehead against yours and looked into your eyes. it was intimidating and confrontational, everything he thought he couldn’t handle now being pierced through his action so he could prove a point.

“i didn’t…” he shook his head. “i’m so sorry for ignoring you, i did it because i… i didn’t want to ruin our friendship… because i realize i won’t be able to fall out of love with you if we keep being friends, if we keep sleeping together.”

that took such a drastic turn. you never thought things would turn out this way for you, but here minho was, looking so deeply into your eyes and telling you he avoided you because he was scared his love would ruin your friendship. what a damned miracle!

“you… you coward, stupid, dumb, annoying–” you lightly punched him across the chest, feeling such staggering relief that you felt like crying. “you didn’t even give me a fighting chance, you just assumed i won’t like you back.”

“i know, i’m sorry.”

“you didn’t even try to drop hints, how was i suppose to let you know i love you back?”

“i know, baby girl, i’m sorry.”

the shock within him vanished quickly. he didn’t have the time to express his delight the way he would want to. you were standing before him in all your glory—beautiful, genuine, emotional.

and he wanted you with him in a way that was much closer than this.

nudging his nose against yours, minho let his lips meet yours at a slower pace this time. he was gentle with you, his arms holding at the side of your waist to pull you closer as you two kissed.

your hands flew to circle his neck as you stumbled out of your untied shoes and into his chest. minho let himself linger on your lips for a while before he started to trail his kisses down your jaw.

your neck was a territory he has marked many times before, and he never fails to make sure he adds something new every time his lips touch the skin. his teeth grazed past your neck before he met at the crook of it, and he obnoxiously sucked a dark bruise on your skin just so you would whimper in surprise.

sigh—how he missed that whimsical little sound. it was always so heavenly to hear, even when the action that caused it was more than devilish.

he marked his way back up to your lips when his fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt. he slipped his hand under it, his palm touching your bare skin for a brief second before he retreated them to clutch at the fabric of your shirt.

“can i take your shirt off, baby?” he mumbled into your mouth, his hand already raising slightly in anticipation.

you nodded, raising your arms as he complied and pulled your shirt up. you two broke apart to allow it to go through before leaning back toward each again. minho discarded your shirt off to the ground, his hands couldn’t wait to finally meet with your torso.

he kissed you fervently, his fingers holding the same amount of enthusiasm as they glided past the small curve of your waist. up and down, a faint squeeze to hold you in place, and then he pushed you forward so your back hit the door.

putting a hand between the back of your head and the hard surface, minho reluctantly pulled away from you, this time with no intention to dive back to your lips again because of all the other access to your body you’ve given him.

he breathed heavily, his voice growing raspy. “i’m gonna make it up to you.”

“i expect you to,” you replied boldly, causing him to raise his brow.

that was not something you would otherwise say in a situation like this. minho would have put you in your place if you ever attempted to give him an attitude. but he planned to let it slide this time, after all, he did hurt your feelings and he was at fault here.

“good.” was all he said before he started to move down your body.

his lips met at your collarbones, then to your chest where he skipped over your bra and went straight down to your stomach. he planted light kisses all over your skin, his tongue occasionally swiping across to wet up your body a little more.

he was kneeling before you by the time his hands met the waist of your pants, and he looked up with brows raising teasingly at you as his hands circled to the front. his fingers carefully popped open the button before they hooked through the belt loops and slowly pulled them down to your ankle.

your knees trembled at the touch of his hands, gliding up and down the back of your thighs and ever so slightly tugging you toward him. your breath hitched in your throat when he leaned up to kiss your clothed core, the sudden touch sending a surprise jolt across your mind.

foreign but familiar—it just came too sudden. you hadn’t realized this was actually happening until your panties were dragged past your thighs, the cold air a stinging proof that you’re with minho right now, and his lips were getting dangerously close to where you’ve been aching to have him these past weeks.

his hands curled around your legs, gripping your flesh firmly to keep them apart as he liked it. he moved up your inner-thighs. he continued to send tingly sensations all over your body until he stopped for a second, as if waiting for a dramatic effect, for a lingering thought to vanish before he latched his lips to your pussy.

his tongue darted out to lick between your folds, feeling the wetness gathering at your entrance upon the pleasuring stimulation. your moan went straight into ears, lighting up the delight inside him, and he continued to lather himself all over your cunt, wasting no time to poke his tongue in and out of you rhythmically.

you grabbed a messy chunk of his hair, pulling at it as you desperately tried to rust against his face, taunting him to shove his tongue deeper inside your heat. the position made your legs feel sore, and the mere attempt to grind down on him was just difficult, but you could take none of those into mind that when his mouth mercilessly sucked at your clit until it was red and swollen.

he was luxuriating himself in you—in your taste, in your voice, in your movement. your essence dripping past his tongue in a slurpy motion, your walls clenching at the digits he had graciously slipped into your heat, and ecstasy took your voice up into a milky whine when his teeth barely grazed past your clit as he sucked at you.

the heat in your chest expanded and engulfed itself all over your body. without yourself even realizing, your legs have moved apart to give minho more access to touch you even more.

“fuck, minho, please!” you exclaimed, your head hitting against the door.

ahh, you still know how to beg. perhaps not as profusely as he would have wanted you to but you were polite nonetheless. not to mention, your fingers scratching through his soft locks was enough indication that he was doing a splendid job. and he couldn’t wait to hear more of you, to feel more of you.

moving his face down to your heat, he drove his tongue inside you once again while his thumb went to press circles on your throbbing clit. you let out a choked moan, the sudden change of stimulation a very pleasant surprise, and he has your climax pinned at his mouth in no time.

gathering up your juices into his mouth, minho finally pulled away from you and stood up. he didn’t bother to wipe your essence off his lips, he just went straight for your mouth as he pressed his lips against yours. and you were in too big of a haze to distinguish the taste of yourself and his saliva, still trying to come down from the orgasm you’ve missed having from him.

minho brought his hand up to your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb carefully as he contemplated his next move. perhaps he was putting a little pressure on himself to make sure this encounter would be perfect, because he thought it somehow needed to be after hurting your feelings.

but part of him also ached for a good fuck after so long. not just with anybody but with you. the scorching desire in his chest would ultimately fuel his instincts today, and maybe he’d not be able to keep his cool when he could finally be inside you.

just the thought of it made his insides burst. he should have never distanced himself from you. it was such a stupid idea.

“up,” minho commanded as he leaned down to tug at your thighs. and you listened to him, jumping up so he could catch you around his waist, your arms going around his neck as your lips moved past his face to run freely down his neck.

you were enjoying the feeling of his skin, kissing him all over in ways you wished you had been able to. your teeth bit down harder when you heard his tiny giggle at your almost amateur attempt on leaving him a hickey, a frown appearing on your face at the fact that he wasn’t taking you seriously.

he brought both of you over to the couch and he dropped you down on the surface, his body quickly hovering over yours as he got onto the couch as well. you looked up at him, your eyes smiling funnily in a way that made him pause his movement. 

this was supposed to be a heated moment, yet somehow a single quirk of your lips was able to make his walls crumble.

“what’s so funny?” he asked, pinching your waist and causing you to squeal at the itch.

“nothing! it’s just…” you reached down for his hand and brought it up to your face, kissing his rough knuckles as you smiled at him. “i’ve missed you, that’s all.”

minho wavered, the glint behind his eyes dimming with a sense of being completely enamored. at the way your lips would smile, at the way your gaze held all of him, even just at how your smaller hand gripped his own. he was so infatuated, he could see no end to it.

“i’m sorry for suddenly leaving you,” he said, leaning down by dropping onto his forearm. your fingers still clung into his palm when he moved it up to your chin, his thumb tracing the tip of it before it moved up to your lips. “i promise i won’t do it again.”

his thumb traced your lower lip, a movement so sensual that you couldn’t think about much of anything else. just the mere fact that you got him back, and that he too has fallen in love with you, was enough to make you drop every ounce of your sanity.

you felt like you’ve got all you need already.

“kiss me, minho,” you pleaded quietly, opening your mouth more so his thumb would shift across your teeth.

he felt your legs move underneath his body, pressing together in a squirm. and he knew you wanted him between them, he knew you were waiting for him to pull them apart instead of doing it on your own. because everything needs to be done by his hands, that has always been the way you two worked, and you would obey him with ease.

flashes of your naked body came before his face. flashes he imagined when he was alone at night, trying miserably to replace you with a toy, or sometimes even himself. his lids dropped as he shifted to look down at your body, soft and awaiting his instructions, and he lightly growled to himself.

impatience suddenly took over him then, the previous moment gone in a blink of an eye. he leaned down to capture your lips, his hands going to your knees to spread them apart so he could place himself right in the middle.

you complied with him, kissing him back and tugging at his shirt as a signal that you wanted it off his body. minho huffed through his nose, slightly annoyed that he has to break away from you but he quickly yanked the collar of the shirt and pulled it over his head.

the flex of his arms was visible as he did so, and your eyes widened shyly without looking away. god, you’ve always loved the way he was built—just muscular enough to ogle at and not too much that they become uncomfortably distracting.

having second thoughts after seeing his toned chest, you decided to sit up from your spot and pushed your hands against him. minho frowned at you, his voice silent but his head-tilt asking a thousand questions. he was going to kiss you, why have you stopped him!

you grinned as you pushed him back, using your body weight to make him fall to the other side of the couch until he was under you this time. you laid on top of him, your small frame trapped between his legs as your head right at the crook of his neck.

minho was about to verbally ask you for your intention, but his eyes rolled up into a close when you kissed his neck. your hands roamed across his chest, your nails dragging ghostly against his skin in an unrecognized pattern as you peppered your kisses and kitten licks all over him.

he sighed in content, feeling your lips on every inch of his body, hot and loving. and he loved being treated this way, like he was being worshipped, like he was a god and you some mere peasant who had to rely on him for a living.

“(name),” he said, his voice sharp as he opened his eyes.

you perked up at him from the waist of his pants, your hands teasingly located near the middle. they had been scattered all over his abdomen, touch here and rubbing there, but never once did they meet at the middle where the obvious bulge of his pants was.

looking at his unsatisfied expression, you could only feel a sense of amusement as you pouted. your lashes fluttered up at him as you scooted back a little for better access. your smile was unfading when you leaned the lower side of your cheek right on top of his clothed member.

“what?” you asked, your smile widening at the hiss he let out.

“stop teasing me,” he said.

“hmm…” you pursed your lips, your finger dragging past his thigh to your face, then you palmed down on the shape of his member. “but it’s so fun.”

for someone with a waterfall dripping past your lips, you sure could find some time to be bratty like this.

rolling his eyes, his tongue poked at his inner-cheek as he turned away for a brief moment. when he looked at you again, his gaze was less hooded than it was amused. but it wasn’t your kind of amused. it wasn’t playful but degrading, the glimmer of it making you shiver.

“you want to say that again, baby?” he asked, his hand moving down to your head. he gently ran his fingers through your hair before he tugged at your scalp, his action light but not without harshness in it.

you whimpered under your breath, your brows furrowing helplessly as your head tilted to the side. “no.”

“good girl.” he released your hair then, gesturing toward himself. he nodded at you, smirking, “keep going.”

you didn’t mess around this time. your hand reached to the rubber waistband and easily pulled his sweats down to his thighs. you scooted your body up, your mouth salivating at the mere sight of his clothed member. you quickly tugged down his boxers, letting his cock spring out before you carefully grabbed its base.

minho sucked in a deep breath at your touch, your small hand covering around the base of his shaft. he closed his eyes with a blissful sigh when your lips finally touched his tip, giving him a little kiss before pressing them against him to dart your tongue over his slit.

licking past his red tip, you trailed your tongue over his shaft once before you went back up to his tip. then you finally took him in your mouth, your head bobbing up and down at regular speed as your hand rubbed the uncovered area.

minho groaned, his hand quickly flying down to your head. he let it lay there, only wanting something for him to hold onto as you sucked him off. great pleasure released from his abdomen, spreading all across his body as you hollowed your cheeks and licked him up as your head moved.

he opened his eyes to look down at you. for a second, you were focused on keeping him in your mouth, but you seemed to have felt his eyes on you so you glanced up at him.

he cursed at your wide-eyed, innocent—well, as innocent as you could look with his dick in your mouth, at least—expression then. his chest doing a flip as you slowly dragged your lips up to his tip to add stimulation to it, the smooching sounds you let out deafening to his ears.

there was something about your facade. it was the way he knew you were just putting up a naive front to rile him up, looking as pure as possible as your lips printed a smile on the top of his shaft, your tongue still poking out to lick him irregularly as if you get to be in control here.

(and, yes, to a certain level you do have control. to a maximum level, you have his utmost attention and all of his heart.)

holding onto the base of his cock, you tilted your head to the side and squinted your eyes mischievously at him. dragging the side of his tip against your cheek slowly, you let out a lewd hum, something like a relieved moan but it didn’t lack a tinge of questioning noise in it, and you watched him as if waiting for his patience to crack, waiting for his tough walls to fall beneath your feet.

he was falling. his face didn’t much show it, and either did his muscles tense under your body weight. but minho was completely surrendered to you; how could he not? you’re such a pretty thing, your warm mouth feeling heavenly as they moved up and down his shaft in an agonizingly slow pace.

his breathing was elevated now, he could feel his chest suffocating with deep arousal, and he wanted nothing more to have your walls wrapped around him now. forget your lips, he needed the tightness around him.

“okay, no,” minho spoke after a moment of thought. he attempted to sit up, his hands moving out to grab at your elbows. “you, get up, now.”

you listened to him, sitting up from your spot while he pulled at your arm. you followed his lead, letting him bring you onto his lap where you heat met with his hardened member. The confusion that once lingered in your head immediately faded away when you felt his girth snug between your folds, a whimper leaving your lips excitedly as you grind down on his member, wanting more friction out of a mere touch.

minho huffed, a tingly sensation fixated at his abdomen. his movements were beginning to get hasty but he has a general direction of what he wanted to do. he wanted you, that was all he knew. and with you sitting prettily on top of him, his mind knew exactly what he had to do despite the pitter-pattering of his heart.

although clumsy, he was precise when he gabbed you by your waist and hoisted you up with your help. he moved his hand down to hold up his dick, angling it right at your entrance before he glanced up at you through his tousled hair.

his eyes were striking, dazzling you as he waited for permission to handle you. you weren’t able to say much, a knot present at the back of your throat that could only be released when you could finally feel full again, full of him. so instead of talking, you brought your hands to your sides where his laid, and you lightly spread your knees further apart to drop onto his cock.

minho moaned lowly, feeling the warmth of your entrance as his tip got lathered up with your essence. he took that as a green light, and with a tightened grip on your skin, he guided you to sink on his length by pushing your body lower and lower until you were sat with him stuck within your walls.

your eyes shut when you felt his stretch, opening you up so deliciously that you needed a moment to breathe. you took all of him in you, his length a pleasantly erotic sensation inside your cunt that even a small scratch of friction could get your head all fuzzed up in a dream.

you felt full, oh so very full, in the most delightful way possible. you felt like smiling when you adoringly looked at him, because you loved him so and you didn’t think you could get this back again. your walls unconsciously clenched around him when you felt like shifting your position a little, and the little breathy sounds he let out a kind of music you adored.

he stared back at you after the sudden commotion and his heart melted. your faint smile was an undeserved treasure you somehow decided to grant him on a daily, and the fact that you always made him feel so snug and good, both chastely and sexually, was nothing short of a miracle.

his hand slipped from your waist to lace through yours, holding you softly as lust blossomed in his eyes.

it has always been the two of you who could make each other feel this way. the thrill of first love, the nostalgia of being intimate, the fear of losing one another—no wonder you two fell in love, it was a match made in heaven.

he brought you down to kiss him, and your arms instinctively flew around his neck. you allowed him a second of solace before pulling away just enough to speak, your voice small with praise. “fuck, you feel so good.”

he laughed, biting at your jaw where his face got draped over by the falling of your hair. “good, but i’m about to feel even better,” he whispered before reattaching his lips to yours. between the tangled lips, you could hear a needy whine sounding from the back of his threat, and you giggled into his mouth. he wanted you to move.

you carefully brought yourself up, your walls scraping past his cock in the process and catching up a burn. then, slowly but still at a non-torturous pace, you lowered yourself back down on him. you kept up with the speed, going up and down on his lap and moaning with every new stretch of your walls.

minho’s hands slipped from yours to caress all over your body, touching you gingerly as if you were his pretty porcelain doll. when his hands met your chest, he gave a small frown at the bra that was still attached to your body, and he quickly unhooked it to expose you completely.

your thighs stuttered when you felt him clamp his palm over your breast, the sudden jolt of pleasure hitting your head. his hands moved to cup your side, his thumbs reaching to press against your nipples and twirling circles with it. then he leaned forward to take your perky bud into his mouth after kissing around the bouncy area, licking your milky smooth skin before his tongue swiped across your nipple.

he kissed across your chest, his lips unable to remove from your skin as you relentlessly moved up and down on him. the plethora of pleasure, the immeasurable amount of enjoyment manifesting into this electrifying sensation all across your veins. it was all from the way minho felt so good inside you, and the passionate touch of his mouth on your everywhere.

“ahh–min–” you hugged him close with a sudden scream, only able to utter his name halfway. the jolt had knocked the air out of your lungs when his cock brushed against your sweet spot, making your knees buckle weakly and your movement halting to a messy rhythm.

minho raised a brow, feeling playful upon seeing your drastic reaction. he pulled away from your face, his eyes searching for your face. “hmm? min–what?”

you furrowed your brows then, a blush escaping to your cheeks at his seductive voice. as you struggled to keep up with the thrusts, you pursed your lips together and flashed minho a soft grimace before you squeezed your eyes shut again at the sensation. you didn’t plan on finishing your cut off sentence and you just wanted to keep hitting the sweet spot over and over again, because god, it made you feel so, so good.

but minho wanted otherwise. unfortunately, he has the upper hand here. he wasn’t the one who’s been moving rigorously the past minutes, he still got lots of stamina stored up for him to hold you in place. you whined when he did, his hands pushing down on your hips to prevent you from sliding up his dick.

you looked at him, your eyes wide as sweat glistened on your forehead, sticking the hair to your pretty skin. the arousal was dripping inside you, aching to be moved around, longing to be penetrated.

hoping to gain an ounce of sympathy, you pouted with a slump of your shoulders and pleaded, “minho, please.”

“hmm,” he squinted his eyes, lightly snapping his hips deeper into you. “please…? please what, baby.”

you clenched your fists, feeling the annoying pain of his slow, slow thrusts. part of you wanted to see how long he could keep up with this, this burningly slow pace. but hellish ache at your pussy overshadowed your tendency to be bratty and childish. all you wanted was to feel the pleasure again, so you begged as he wanted you to.

“please fuck me, minho,” you asked, desperation pumping out of your mouth like gold, “please fuck me–your cock feels good, i–i want more!”

minho laughed lowly, the moany sound hiding under the edge of his voice when he saw how you struggled to speak. the heat on your cheeks adding to the overall flair of his sight, your bare appearance the greatest art he’s ever laid his eyes on. and your words made him soar off the moon, you needy little thing! you’d break yourself with embarrassment to keep feeling the euphoric feeling only he could make you feel, wouldn’t you?

how pathetically adorable. maybe he should help you out a little, the moment a silent fulfillment to his own desire to pound himself quicker into you.

he gripped your hips tighter by digging his nails into your skin and he helped you up on his length. he waited for a moment before he forced your fragile body down on his cock, earning a chocked strangled whimper from you. he continued in a regular rhythm. occasionally, he would push his hips up to meet with your pussy, adding to the strength of the pound and making your moan louder with the strike.

you let loose of your muscles when you felt that you’ve lost the control, and you pressed yourself closer to him in hopes to regain the previous position. the magnified gratification came unknowingly like a ghost, his dick finally able to find your g-spot again, and this time stayed haunting you with every slick thrust.

as your pussy started to salivate more with each snap of your hips, the squelching noise was also becoming harder to ignore. it mixed in with your heavy breaths, the sound of sex reverberating around you both, and you could feel your orgasm approaching inch by inch, threatening your release.

minho was watching you carefully, his eyes fixated on your face as he observed every little movement. your jaw hung open at the constant moaning, your eyes barely able to open clearly because of the overwhelming sensation—everything about you made him feel confident, possibly even narcissistic at some point.

but he really enjoyed the fact that you succumb to him so easily, and you shamelessly showed it through your body without even knowing.

he wondered if you knew you were clenching incredibly tightly around his cock. it didn’t seem to be a conscious action, considering how you could barely string a coherent sentence together. judging by that, though, minho knew your climax was approaching close, and he planned to get you to it with as much care as possible.

pulling you off him suddenly, he sat up quickly and pushed you on your back. he hovered over your body, only laying on top of you after he re-inserted himself inside of you. your legs went around his hips, bringing him closer by the back while he leaned his head down to briefly kiss your neck.

“hey,” he smiled, his hand caressing through your hair as he looked down at you with soft eyes.

you raised your brows at him, silent breathes huffing in and out of your nose as he started to thrust into you again. you touched his face, squeezing his cheeks with a smile. “what?”

minho was right. he does feel closer to you like this.

his eyes shifted down to your lips and back up into your eyes. affection engulfed him quickly, it does every time he stares into your eyes. he gets reminded of the way he fell in love with you again and again whenever he does.

and he never minded the constant reminder. he enjoyed the process. it was a lot of emotional talks, playful banter, and a lot of good sex. all of which he felt like he could have with you for the rest of his life, he wanted to have with you for the remaining of his stupid lifetime.

he unconsciously pounded deeper into you then, his mind wanting you to feel all of him to the rawest sense. you moaned at the sudden change of force but you welcomed it by opening your legs a little more for him.

your toes were curling after a few more hard thrusts, your stomach churning impossibly at the way his cock felt sliding in and out of you. when you felt the tightening feeling in your chest, you looked up at minho and grabbed his hand, huffing out hastily, “min–minho, i’m close.”

“i know,” he hummed loving at you, picking up his pace to bring you over the edge.

you arched your back at the feeling, a silent scream leaving your mouth. he pinned your hands to the side of your head, his hands hugging your small ones, and when your head moved back down to face him, he wasted no time to put his lips on yours again.

god, it was like he literally cannot keep himself off you.

your mind was getting foggy. you weren’t sure whether it was from the passionately way he kissed or from the burn between your legs, but you felt like you couldn’t quite process anything clearly anymore. well, anything except for one thing.

when minho pulled away, he kept himself close. his lips were grazing against yours but he wasn’t close enough to kiss you. and you could feel his lips move against yours ghostly when he whispered, “i love you.”

you processed that one. the words hit you really strongly too, your heart practically sunk up to your throat at them. you wanted to say it back, you planned to say it back, but you only sucked in a strong breath when minho rammed against the sweet spot in you. your eyes rolled back at the unprecedented attack and your back lifted off the couch once again.

“oh fuck–minho, please, please–ahh!”

he continued with a few more harsh thrusts before you released around his cock with a whine, your hands tightening around his at the pleasure. he had his head buried at the crook of your neck, his hips continued to move as he drowned himself in the scent of your body. he was chasing his own high now, his cock twitching inside your warm hold as he pounded into you.

your walls slurped him up, tightening around him to add stimulation. and when he felt like he was about to come undone, he quickly pulled out of you and sat up. his hand moved to his cock, quickly pumping along his length as his eyes trained on your sweaty, delicate body.

you looked at him before slowly sitting up, you went on all fours and crawled closer to him before positioning your face before his cock. minho shakily breathed out a sigh when you nudged your face against his tip, then you stopped at your opened mouth, waiting for him to pour himself over your tongue.

“ugh, you’re gonna swallow me, baby girl?” he hissed out, and he bit his lower lip when you nodded, widening your eyes naively at him.

he groaned, his abdomen tightening at the mere sight of you, hot cum sprouting out of his slit and landing on your stuck-out tongue. you held your breath, feeling the liquid dripping past your tongue before taking it back into your mouth and rolling it around. when you looked back up at minho, you grinned a little and stuck your tongue out at him.

his lips twitted at the sticky substance lingered on the tip, little lines stretching from your lips to your tongue. fuck, you filthy thing! how dare you make his heart all disheveled and gone.

“fuck, you’re so hot,” he muttered under his breath as you sat back on your heels.

you laughed, wiping your mouth and swallowing the last of him. “thank you, you’re not so bad yourself.”

he rolled his eyes then, the corner of his lips turning up into a graceful smile. he tackled you to the couch then, your hot body pressed against yours, but the atmosphere was more romantically chaste than sexual this time. you two were just two lovers naked in each others’ arms, putting complete and utter faith in each other that you would be held safe.

you two went quiet, basking in the silence. but you could hear him, his heart and his skin, pumping and brushing along yours.

would you have thought of this months ago when you first met minho? no. you have dreamt of it, but you never thought it could be true. and the dream was shattered when he suddenly decided to ghost you weeks ago.

but it didn’t matter now. you were here with him, he was holding you tightly like it was the only thing he knew to do.

“i meant to say it back,” you broke the silence first, “i love you too.”

despite knowing the answer already, minho still breathed out a sigh of relief anyway. he pressed a kiss to your head, his eyes closing calmly as he nodded. “i know.”

you smiled. minho has been a lot of things—a nice classmate, a good friend, and a few quick fucks. but you never indulged in the idea of you and him together. the idea that minho could be you and him together, that he could be a partner, a boyfriend.

the idea that minho could be an ‘us.’

[kimnjss]

there was a bug | knj

⇢ pairing: namjoon x reader ⇢ genre: smut, fluff, angst ⇢ word count: 7.0K ⇢ theme: roommate! namjoon + best friend! namjoon + f2l au ⇢ warnings: cursing, unprotected sex (be safe), oral sex (f. giving and receiving), deep throat, handjob, sleep stroking, fingering (f. receiving), cumshot, mild dirty talk, tons of self doubt.. yikes. this literally turned out way more angsty than i had originally planned. namjoon’s dick is huge. ⇢ summary: you and joon have been best friends for years, unexpectedly his feelings start to grow more than platonic. deciding to keep this to him, joon stays as your best friend and roommate. things are going fine, until one night you’re forced to sleep in his room.

Mindlessly scrolling through your timeline, you were met with the blurry picture from the night you spent out with the guys a while ago. Jimin had posted it. You were slung over your roommate, Joon's shoulder as he ran toward the water, Jungkook and Hoseok rushing up behind you two.

A faint smile spread across your lips as your thumb tapped twice against the screen. That had been a good night. The eight of you crowded around an open fire, salty from the lake water. Jin had kept everyone entertained with his endless storytelling. Yoongi was even oddly animated, excitedly adding on to his elder's words.

Jimin's unofficial job was to get everyone drunk, calling for a suspicious amount of shots. It wasn't until Tae was puking out his guts did Jimin think it was time for everyone to slow down. Still it was a fun night. You even remembered pretending to be asleep so Joon would carry you to the house.

You had always liked the feeling of being in his arms.

It had become a running gag among the lot of you, when you and Joon would stop playing and become official. You couldn't see that happening, though. Yeah, you lived together, and you'd cuddle and were a bit more touchy with him than the others and there was that time that he ate you out but you were both drunk and it ended at that.

You two were just a bit too different for a relationship to blossom. At least, that's the mantra you've been repeating since that drunken night. And from the lack of romantic advances, Joon must've felt the same way. What you two had now was good, you were best friends and it wasn't complicated.

Feelings completely platonic. Your eyes followed the movement by your head, a shriek leaving your lips as your eyes fixed on the large black bug strutting over your pillow. Body flying up, you nearly sprinted down the hall, bursting into Joon's room.

You were met with his wide eyed surprised expression. He had been laying on his bed, a pair of gray sweats hanging low on his hips as he read his newest novel. It only took him a second to take in your frazzled state, sitting up only now registering your shriek from before.

“Why? What happened?” His eyes holding their round shape. You couldn't help the way your eyes shifted from his face to bare chest. It wasn't often that you saw Joon with his shirt off. He was definitely more modest than the other guys, only sometimes taking his shirt off while he swam.

You never gave it much thought, but now you were cursing him for it. How selfish of him to hide such a beautiful mass of muscle from the world. Joon was much buffer than when you first met. Prominent collarbones housing two very well worked on pecks, you imagined the way they'd flex if he was to tighten a muscle.

His arms had gotten bigger two, much rounder and visibly harder. His soft but flat tummy was a contrast to all of the muscle. With a clearing of his throat, Joon caught your stare arching a brow. “What's up?”

A forced cough left your lips, mentally scolding yourself for ogling at your best friend like that. “I... I, uhm-,” It took you a moment to regain your composure the multi legged creature reminding you why you were standing there, drooling.

“There was a bug! A huge bug crawling on my bed,” Your eyes widened as the memory of seeing the insect run over your pillow rushed back into your thoughts. It was so big! And dark, it had so many legs. You just wanted to throw up.

Joon's body relaxed once he realized it was nonsense you were on. “So? Squish it,” He shrugged a shoulder, leaning back into the comfort of his bed while lifting his book back up to eye level.

“Squish it!?” You moved so you were now standing at his side. The palms of your hands wrapping around the swell of his bicep. Really? When did he become like this? With a few pulls, you managed to tug him back up to a sitting position. “Can you please go look?” Pairing your request with a pout he never seemed to be able to resist had Joon rolling his eyes.

Slowly he pulled himself into a standing position, the palm of his hand rubbing against his bare chest. It seemed as if in that moment he had realized that he wasn't wearing a shirt, the tips of his ears flushing and his cheeks too if you could see his face.

“It's probably gone by now... I'll look,” He offered a small smile in your direction. You had taken up a small portion of his bed, nodding your head as you crossed your legs underneath you.

Your eyes never left him as he walked out of the room, did that boy just live at the gym? How had you not noticed him getting bigger like this? You enjoyed the delicious flex of the muscles in his back until he was disappearing around the corner.

With a huff, you were flinging yourself back against the blankets on his bed. Almost immediately, you were engulfed with his scent. Joon always smelt so good. A bit like nature from all the time he spent outside, mixed with the bit of cologne he sprayed in the morning.

One of the reasons you loved being in his arms so much was because all you could smell was him. A mini collection of his sweatshirts had started in your closet. He didn't mind, always mentioning how adorable you looked in his big clothes. The brim reaching to the tops of your knees.

Joon was jogging back into the room moments later, you didn't bother to sit up. He took up the space beside you, shoving your hair back off of your forehead. “I couldn't find it. It probably just left,”

That had you quickly sitting up, “It probably just left? Probably not. It's most likely concocting some plan with it's friends to attack me while I'm asleep.”

Joon laughed. “I doubt that,”

“I'm sure of it,” It was so easy for you to curl up into his lap, especially with how quickly he was to wrap his arms around your tiny frame. “Can I just stay in here with you?”

“You want to sleep in here?”

It was late, a bit past ten, there was no need to entertain each other. Just sleep. You two had fallen asleep on the couch together countless of times. You nodded.

Seconds ticked by as his eyes studied your face, his attention being brought to the book he had been reading before you had interrupted him. A soft sigh left his lips, “Hand me my book,” He jutted his chin out to point at it. You were quick with grabbing it, so you could settle back into Joon's embrace.

“Will you read to me?” Your arms had wrapped around his torso, your body shifting into his lap. “You're just going to fall asleep,” This wasn't the first time you had asked Joon to let you in on his literary adventures and every single time you fell asleep before he could finish a chapter.

“I won't this time, I'm not even tired.”

Flicking to his saved page, Joon began reading the printed words out loud. He had shifted your body on his lap. You were more comfortable now, between his legs with your back against his chest. His arms around your waist as he held the book out in front of you two. You could feel the rumble in his chest with every word he spoke.

Joon's brows furrowed as he went to flip the page, hearing your soft snores. His gaze shifted down to your sleeping face, his eyes instantly rolling. “So annoying,” He mumbled, the smile on his lips only growing. It annoyed  how even with your face squished against his arm, creating a puddle of drool on his skin, hair in your face he still thought you were so pretty.

The feelings he had for you were strong and destined to just grow. Of course he was sad that you didn't feel the same way. But having you as his best friend was good enough for him, it had to be. There was a point where he was convinced that everything was going to change.

It was in the midst of one of your many movie nights. You two had, had a few drinks and were teetering toward tipsy. This wasn't the first time you'd get drunk together, but this time became different than the rest because you had kissed him. You. Kissed. Him. He remembered the feeling of his heart hammering against his rib cage, the girl of his dreams was kissing him in the middle of their shared living room. The excitement, and the alcohol, had things heating up quickly and soon you were in bed together.

You tasted so sweet against his tongue. So wet too, for him. Just for him. That had been the best night of his life, being able to watch you cum not once, but twice just from his tongue. He had planned for so much more, but you whined about being sensitive and he didn't want to push it.

Joon held you that night, all night. Just like he had done so many times before, but this time it was going to be different. When morning came, you'd be together the way that you should be. He'd be able to kiss you and hold you without that terrible ache in his chest.

At least, that's what he thought. The sun had barely risen the next morning, but he was awoken from his slumber by your frantic shifting. The panicked look on your face was enough to send all of his hopes for the two of you to hell. “We didn't.... did we?” You couldn't even say it as if it was so horrible.

Joon had eased your worries to which you replied with: “Fuck, I was so drunk.” He shrugged it off, agreeing. Although that night, he hadn't drank that much... and neither did you.

The memory put a bitter taste in his mouth. He wasn't upset about it, not in the slightest. Things were the way they were. He just wished they were different.

With very little effort, he was rolling your body over to the empty side of his bed. You shifted only slightly, incoherent mumbles leaving your lips before you were back in deep sleep. Tossing his book on the nightstand, Joon went to flick the light off.

“Stop moving,” Joon's words were fogged with fatigue, his body shifting to face your tossing figure. It had to be after one by now. You had woken up a few moments ago, trying to find a comfortable position to fall back asleep in. You didn't mean to wake Joon up, you had forgotten that you were in his bed.

A grumble of what was supposed to be a sentence left your sleeping lips. Without a word, Joon was wrapping an arm underneath your head, tugging your body against his chest. Your face being smushed right against his bare slightly sweaty chest.

He patted your head, “Sleep,” An involuntary happy sigh left your lips as your body relaxed. “So perfect,” You mumbled out, lips puckering to place a chaste kiss to the center of his chest. Joon's body stilled, pulling back only to be met with your sleeping face.

You lay wide awake on your back, watching Joon's air humidifier. A dozen curses were being sent to that bug that decided to commander your bed. Now you were wrapped up in Joon's tight embrace, a leg around your waist and his arm draped over your shoulders. His face was nuzzled into your neck, lips inches from your skin. All you could breathe in was his scent and your heart was going crazy.

With each soft breath blown against your clammy skin, you grew wetter. His fingers ghosted over the skin of your shoulder, the gesture only making the heat between your legs grow. He looked so peaceful and... so clueless. You wondered how he could sleep so soundly when he was making you feel this way.

Unconsciously, his hand was slipping down from your shoulder. You froze when the tips of his fingers traced the lace of your tank top. Was he awake? You shifted to take a peak. Still sound a sleep, snores leaving his lips. His features contorted, an inaudible murmur leaving his lips as he flattened his hand over your breast. A few wiggles of his fingers and his thumb was rolling over your now hardened nipple.

A gasp left your lips, quick to bat his hand away. He shifted, groaned before tucking you further underneath him. Joon let out a yawn, he was so close his lower lip dragged against your skin as he closed his mouth, the feeling instantly had your pussy aching.

You had to get out of here. Before you did something rash. Before you ruined the friendship you both worked so hard for. Before... his hand was on your chest again, squeezing and kneading. The motion startled you, forcing you to jump back, his limbs sliding from your body.

“What is it now?” His words raspy and you could tell he was hardly awake. “Come back, baby. You're so warm.” His eyes were open now, hooded but staring right at you. He blinked a few times, confusion taking over his features. “Are you alright?”

What were you to do? Tell him that he was feeling you up in his sleep and it made you so wet and now that he was awake you wanted him to do more. To touch you some more. Yeah, right. He'd definitely think you weird. Instead, you shook your head, sinking back into the spot next to him.

Joon's arms were quick to wrap around your waist, pulling your back against his chest. His hand nuzzling in your hair. He shifted and that's when you felt it. He was so fucking hard and deliciously big. Had he been dreaming before? His length was pressed right against your ass and it was getting harder and harder to hold back.

Your hips had taken on a mind of their own, it seemed. Rolling backward feeling just how long he was. Fuck, so big. Your quiet whimper was followed by another jerk of your hips, and then another, and another. The moan that left your lips was masked by his grunt. “Fuck,” Again, you froze.

Joon thrust his hips upward, body jumping at the friction. He repeated the action. “Keep going, please.” He sighed, the grip he held on your waist tightening.

You twisted in his arms, staring up at him with wide eyes. You could feel your heart beat throughout your entire body as he stared at you. Lip tucked between his teeth, crazed lust filled eyes, hair a mess. It only took a second before you decided what you were to do next.

Your hand was wrapping around his hard cock before you had a moment to talk yourself out of it. There was already a bit of pre-cum gathered at the tip and you smirked at how much you were able to affect him by not even doing much.

Joon's cock was heavy against your palm, long and veiny. The tip of your index finger traced over the most pronounced vein at the underside of it. Earning a hiss from him. Joon didn't dare move a muscle, he didn't want this to end and he felt if he made the wrong move than poof, this all would be over like a dream.

Gathering as much moisture from his tip as you could, you slowly began to stroke him. Your eyes never left his, watching as his jaw fell slack the moment you started the movement of your wrist. “Fuck, you're huge.” Your words were punctuated by the drop of your second hand around his length.

You twisted both fist in opposite directions, keeping up with your torturous pace. When you looked up at Joon, his eyes were squeezed tight, mouth open and head cocked back. But he wasn't making a sound. You wanted to hear him. You wanted him to fall apart from how good you were making him feel.

Dropping one of your hands down, you grasped his balls. Shit, even these were big. Giving them a firm squeeze while speeding up the pace of your strokes, you watched his face. “Fuck, baby.” He cursed, hips jerking forward. “Do that again,” His breathing was much heavier now.

You obliged, massaging your fingers into his skin after you squeezed. “Shit.” Joon was dragging out his curses and moving his hips along with the movement of your hand. Just when you were sure you were going to have him cumming, he stilled.

A hand pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail. His mouth was on yours in an instant. The kiss was sloppy and rushed. Tongues twisting and pushing against each others until he decided that he liked nibbling at your lips better.

Kissing him right now brought back the memory of what it felt like to have his mouth working between your legs. The thought only sending a shock of arousal between your legs. Rolling onto his back, Joon didn't dare part his lips from yours. Not until he was satisfied did he use the grip he had on your hair to pull your head back. His hand pushing your body down until you were face to face with his throbbing cock.

It glistened slightly with his arousal. The tip an angry red. He was much bigger than he felt. You gasped when it jumped, seemingly on it's own. You had been so mesmerized by his size, you hadn't noticed Joon's hand coming down to wrap around himself.

Not until he was lining the tip of his cock up with your mouth. He rubbed it against your lips a few times, the salty taste seeping through onto your tongue. “Open,” He urged. Your mouth was wide before he could finish his sentence, leaning forward to swallow him whole. You've wanted to taste him for God knows how long. Moaning once you felt his tip hit the back of your throat, you tried for the last few inches covered by his palm only to have your throat restrict, your coughs forcing you to pull back.

“Easy,” Joon pushed your hair back so he could see your face, “Relax, baby.” Fuck, he looked so good right then. Lips wet and swollen from the kiss you had shared. Hair sticking up in all directions, that one vein at the side of his neck was starting to show.

You ducked your head back down, tonguing over the vein at the underside of his cock. He groaned so you did it again, this time sucking his tip into your mouth. You rolled your tongue over it in small circles. Silently preparing yourself before opening up your mouth once more to take him down your throat.

He was bigger than any other guy that you've sucked off. Way bigger. Your hands grasped his thighs bracing yourself for the few inches that were left. Joon watched you in amusement. How hard you were trying to swallow all of him was not only extremely sexy but... lifting your gaze your eyes caught his. It took everything in him not to fuck forward, just to have you choke again.

Your eyelashes batted cutely at the man above you before you were swallowing the rest of his length, your  nose pressed up against his groin. Joon was almost drooling at the sight of you, his body jerking when he felt you swallow around him.

Quickly he was reaching down for you hand, bringing it up to your throat. “Swallow.” You followed his orders, feeling your throat constrict and then... the feeling of his cock right there. “Feel that?” He smirked, his hips pulling back to allow you to breathe normally.

Sitting back on your knees, you greedily sucked all the oxygen into your lungs that you could.

Joon took in your watery eyes, the harsh raise and fall of your chest. Maybe he'd pushed you too far. He thought. His hand grasped his cock, mimicking the movements that you had been doing before. He'd just make himself cum and that would be it.

Your head shook quickly, eyes going wide. You were crouched down inches from his cock within seconds. “I wanna do it. Please, let me make you cum.” He was surprised, but pleased. Seeing his nod, you were quick to replace his hand with your own.

Tongue finding home on his balls as you moved your hand quickly. His moans only urging you on. “Fuck, you're so good... in your mouth, baby. Put it in your mouth.” Your mouth covered a little more than half of his length, your head bobbing quickly as you hallowed your cheeks here and there. The palm of your hand massaging and squeezing his balls.

Joon had both of his hands holding your hair back, twisting and jerking his hips along with the movement of your mouth. “Uh, fuck... I'm so... fuck, I'm close.” You let him still the movement of your head, fucking your mouth at his own pace now.

It wasn't long before his thrusts became sloppy and he was sputtering, holding your head down as he filled your mouth with his load. Incoherent rumbles of praise and curses left his lips as he slowly came down and you began sucking again, milking out every last drop of his orgasm. You swallowed.

“So good,” He was mumbling before slumping back against his pillows. An arm went up to cover his eyes as he concentrated on getting his breathing in tact. You watched him for a while, his chest heaving and stuttering until it was just soft breaths indicating that he had fallen asleep.

The cloud of arousal had suddenly been ripped away from you in that moment. Realization of what had just taken place finally hitting you. You both crossed the line again, and this time there was no alcohol to blame it on. What did all of this mean for you? For your friendship?

The thoughts rattling in your mind were slowly driving you mad and you decided you couldn't sit here and watch him sleep anymore. Shoving the covers back, you reluctantly trudged back down the hall and into your room. You'd just have to brave whatever creature decided to attack you in the night.

The sun seeped through the window and onto Joon's face, slowly pulling him out of his slumber. He stirred and groaned, reaching out for your body-- in hopes to steal some of your warmth. His arm being full outstretched and not finding you had confusion settling in. His eyes blinked the sleep away, his blurred vision finding the empty space beside him.

Last nights events all came rushing back at once. “Fuck,” Joon grumbled, sitting up in bed while running his hands over his face. He had taken things too far, once again. Who knows how you'd react this time around. It was obvious that you were feeling weird... why else was he waking up in an empty bed.

It was as if he wasn't able to learn his lesson. He was always crossing the line with you and he feared the day you got sick of it. Shoving his blankets off of his body, he was dragging himself down the staircase and into the kitchen.

His heart fluttered, seeing you standing there. Wearing nothing but his t-shirt and a tiny pair of panties. Your ass jiggled as you tried to reach a cup on the top shelf. You never dressed like this. Not in front of your friends at least. Knowing this had Joon instantly thinking that maybe last night wasn't a huge mistake.

Maybe things were different now and seeing you like this was going to be the new thing. Without much more thought, he was moving to stand behind you, doing something he had wanted to for so long. An arm snaking around your waist and a hand sliding down to squeeze your plump ass. Fuck.

A yelp left your lips at the feeling of his strong hand, your body jumping and the cup just barely in your grasp slipping, rolling and tumbling onto the floor. The sound of shattering glass filled both of your ears. “Joon!” You exclaimed, wiggling from his grip to pick up the pieces.

Joon cursed himself for an idiot once again. “Sorry, I just...” Shaking his head, he bent down to help you clean up the mess. You stared down at the shards of glass, refusing to make eye contact. “It's fine, I got it. You don't have too... ow, fuck!” Quickly blood started to leak from the small flesh wound, you brought your finger up to your mouth to suck on it.

“Don't do that.” Joon was reaching for your hand, pulling your fingers from your mouth. You observed the cut before pulling you up to your feet. “It's not that bad, let's get it cleaned though.” You went to pull your hand out of his grip, starting to tell him that you could handle it yourself. He was shaking his head before you could even finish your sentence, leading you into the bathroom.

Joon had sat you down on the toilet as he crouched down in front of you. A first aid kit open on the floor between you, you almost rolled your eyes at how dramatic he was being. Nothing was said as he rubbed disinfectant over your finger, inspecting the cut once all the blood was wiped away.

You couldn't help the way you seemed to always admire him, even if he was doing the simplest of things. He had neglected to put a shirt on before leaving his room, the same sweats hugging his hips. He had such an attractive look of concentration on his face, brows furrowed and lips pursed.

How could he be this handsome? How could he.... inwardly shaking your head, you stopped your thoughts. Looking at him that way was exactly what got you in trouble last night. Joon was your friend and just that. What he did while you were horny and urging him had nothing to do with anything. He only saw you as a friend. That was it.

The triumphant smile that grew on his face made your heart skip. He was holding your bandaged finger up so you could see. You forced your gaze to the bright purple bandage wrapped around your finger. “Thank you,” The words left your lips in a mumble as you pulled your hand back into a lap.

Joon nodded, raising to his feet. You watched as he tucked the first aid kit back into the drawer, standing there for a while. He still looked concentrated, but on what? What could he possibly be thinking about? A way to let  you down easy about what happened last night? Probably.

You'd just have to beat him to it. “Listen, I...”

“Sorry, for...” Your words overlapped each other, both of you letting out an embarrassed laugh. It was nice to hear him laugh, it felt as if an entirety passed since you heard it last. “You go first.” He nodded, pushing his hands through his already messy hair.

He looked just as embarrassed as you felt. “I wanted to apologize... you know, for last night.” He cleared his throat, visibly trying to muster up some confidence. “I took things to far, I know it. I shouldn't have...”

“You took things too far? None of that wouldn't have happened if I didn't decide to just grind on you.” Your face flushed at the memory. He had felt so good against you, it was crazy that you were apologizing for acting on it.

It looked like Joon was blushing too, “Well, that probably wouldn't have happened if I didn't start feeling you up in my sleep.” Your eyes widened at his revelation.

“You were awake!?”

An awkward laugh left his lips, the dimples on his cheeks making an appearance. He rubbed at the back of his neck as he tilted his head. “Not exactly... I mean, I knew what I was doing... but I was so sure that it was a dream. Until you were jumping back, but I was too embarrassed so I played dumb,”

You faked a gasp, punching your first into his chest. “You had me feeling like some weirdo getting off on what people do in their sleep.” He rubbed at the spot on his chest, scrunching his face up in mock pain.

“Wait, what do you mean getting off?” He stepped a bit closer to you, his brow cocked and that stupid smirk on his lips. There were no words to back track, you were stuck. He was looking at you in such a familiar way,  his gaze nearly enough to have you on your knees begging.

The palm of his hand spread over your hip, tugging your body against his. Your heart was pounding, sweat rushing to your palms and forehead. Your hands dropped down onto his chest, his left peck jumping under your touch. You could've moaned but you didn't, you were pushing his body back. A confused expression playing on his features.

“I think, maybe... it would be best if we just forgot about last night. Don't you agree?” Joon was dropping his hands from your body and if you were mistaken you could swear you saw a flash of disappointment behind his dark eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. I agree. Let's do that. Good idea.”

“Isn't it? I mean, we're best friends and like, we live together too. We don't want to complicate things, right?” You didn't even believe the words that were coming out of your mouth.

“Right.” Joon agreed. He watched as you nodded your head, turning and leaving the bathroom. Once he was sure you were out of earshot, he let out a frustrated groan. Kicking his toe against the cabinet. Why was this so hard? Couldn't you see how badly he wanted to be with you? Why were you playing with him like this?

It wasn't fair. Every time he thought he was close, you'd push back. He had been careful for years around you. Minded his hands, his words, his glances. It was always you. You were always sliding into his lap, you were always crawling into his bed, you had kissed him. You. You. You.

What were you doing to him? It wasn't right. He couldn't keep doing this to himself. It would end up driving him mad in the end.

You were back in the kitchen, cleaning up the mess from before. Joon's words pulled you from the mess of thoughts in your head. You stood, placing the broken glass on the counter. “What'd you say?”

“I said, no. I'm not 'okay' with just forgetting about last night. Or that other night for that matter. It may shock you, but they meant something to me...” The strides he took were long and hesitant. His eyes bored into yours. You just stood there frozen.

“And I'm literally going to go mad, because I don't understand you. You always act like you might possibly have feelings for me but once something like that happens... you pull back and I don't get it. You're confusing and I just... I like you so much.” Your heart was pounding again, eyes wide from his confession. He liked you? Kim Namjoon liked you? Really?

“So so much, but I can't keep doing this back and forth.   I need you to just be honest with me. I like you, do you like me?” Joon stood just inches from you. If you were to reach out, you'd be in his arms. He had such an intense look in his gaze shifting from your face.

You wanted to tell him. Let him know how you'd been finding yourself thinking about him more and more. How your heart fluttered every time you hugged him. How seeing him even for a minute had could lift your entire mood. Yet, you couldn't find the words.

Instead, you found yourself closing the space between you two. Your arms wrapping around his neck in one swift moment and your lips finding his. Joon was reacting almost instantly. This kiss was a lot different from the one shared between you two last night. This kiss was slower, your lips pushing and pulling against each other so gently. This kiss. This was better than telling him, right? From the way his hands were finding your hips, you couldn't help but agree with yourself.

That was until you felt him pushing you back, forcing your lips to slide from his. “No,wait. You need to tell me, I need to hear you say it. I can't do this again.” Why was he always like this? Couldn't he just tell? You were always making moves and having to pull back because he just did not get it.

He looked so confused, yet so determined. You laughed, shaking your head. His brows furrowed and you grabbed at his cheeks, squishing them to make his lips pucker out. You kissed him like that, laughing and doing it again. “I like you, Namjoon. Hell, I might even love you at this point,”

“Really?” Despite his look of disbelief, Joon had his hand gripping the hem of your shirt. Using his grip to pull your body against his. You nodded. Had it not been obvious this entire time? “Honestly, I'm surprised you even have to ask... I'm literally all over you, how could you-” Your words were interrupted by the moan you let out from the feeling of his large hand squeezing your ass.

Your eyes caught his, his lips finding yours in a rough kiss; not wasting any time with slipping his tongue past your lips. The atmosphere in the room changed within seconds. Joon was wrapped around you completely, a hand cupping one of your breasts, the other holding your ass. You never wanted someone more.

A string of moans were slipping past your lips when Joon was dropping his head down to press open mouthed kisses against the skin of your neck. Your hands rested on his stomach, his hard abs warm underneath your palms. Your blunt nails pressing against him when he began toying with your earlobe.

You hadn't realized him grabbing your wrist, not until he was pushing your hand down onto his clothed, but very hard cock. “Fuck,” You mumbled, stroking him through his sweats. The way his hips jerked had you grinning. “You're so big, Joon.” Your words came out in a moan, fingers spreading as your rubbed him.

Joon was quickly picking you up off of your feet, laying your back down on the couch as he hovered over you. His lips sucked a hickey at the side of your neck as he slipped his hand underneath your panties. He groaned. “You're this wet? I've hardly touched you.” He smirked.

“Shut u-up.” You stuttered as his finger began to massage your clit. He was quickly pushing two fingers past your folds, “Mm, so tight. You think you'll be able to take this cock, baby?” He was dragging your hand onto his bulge again. You nodded quickly, slipping your hand into his sweats to feel his bare skin.

“Please,” You begged while opening your legs wider for him. Joon was able to easily slip another finger inside. Bringing another hand forward, you tugged his sweats down enough for his dick to visible to your greedy eyes. You began to stroke him, watching his face twist in pleasure as he began to mindlessly rock his hips with your hand movements.

His mouth fell slack as you sped up your strokes, his eyes rolling shut and brows furrowing. You reached for his balls. “Fuck, shit...” His fingers stilled inside of you as he bit down on your neck. “Stop,” He groaned while bringing his hand to wrap around your wrist.

“Close already?” You teased, your index finger tracing over a large vein on his cock. Joon leaned down to kiss your smirking lips, chucking softly. “I've been waiting five years for this, shut up.”

“Five years!?” You repeated and he nodded, leaning down to kiss your lips. He replaced your grip with his, stroking himself a few times before rubbing his cock against your wet clit. “I really want to taste you... but fuck, I might explode if I don't fuck you right now.” Your pussy clenched at the thought of him inside of you.

You reached down to push your panties to the side, trying to wiggle your hips up toward the tip of his cock. “Fuck me. I need you so bad, Joonie. Please,” You pleaded. Slowly, he began to sink in inch by inch. “So big, so big.” You gasped, fists clenching once he was all the way in.

“Finally,” Joon sighed.

It took you a few moments to adjust to his size. Joon busied himself with your bare chest, sucking kisses onto the underside of your breasts, teasingly swiping his tongue over your nipples when you least expected it. When you began to move, his hands found your hips. He didn't waste a moment with thrusting into you, groaning at the tight squeeze around his throbbing cock.

Rolling his hips back, he began to pull out before quickly thrusting forward. That earned a shocked yelped from you and he smirked, repeating the action a few times before setting a pace. His strong hands held your legs up and apart as he fucked into you hard and fast.

His name fell from your lips in breathless pants, you could already feel the pressure growing in your lower belly. “More, more...” Joon's hand was coming down between your legs in an instant, rubbing at your clit and making your walls tighten around him. He hissed.

“You feel... so good, baby. Fuck,” Teeth trapped between his teeth, you could tell he was keeping himself from cumming. Securing your legs around his waist, Joon dropped down so your chests were pressed together. His hand tangled in your hair, using his grip to tilt your head to the side. Wet kisses were trailed from your jaw down to your collarbones.

His fingers toyed with your clit deliciously. Your eyes widened as he angled his hips, the tip of his cock brushing against the sweet spot deep inside you. “Fuck, Joon... Right there!” Your head was rolling back and he repeated the movement again, hitting it over and over again until your legs were shaking.

A string of curses left our lips as your orgasm hit, Joon groaned at the feeling of your body tightening. His arms wrapping around you to pull you up as he lay on his back. Your body fell slack against his chest, breath heavy and eyes unfocused.

Joon's thrusts were short and hard. Your body bounced as he fucked fast into you, desperately chasing his orgasm. He felt so good you couldn't help but try to move back against him, whimpering. His movements were beginning to get sloppy and you could tell by the look on his face that he was close.

You whined at the emptiness you felt as he pulled himself out to stroke himself. His cum was warm on your back, you moaned each time a drop hit. Joon laid back on the couch, arm over his face as he tried to regulate his breathing. You smiled. He must do that every time after he finished.

“Mm, wanna taste you.” He mumbled, lifting your hips and laying you back down.

You laughed, leaning up to pressed your mouth over his. He smiled through as he kissed you lazily, his fingers sliding between your legs. He rubbed at your folds slowly. “Be my girlfriend,” The words were murmured against your lips but you heard him loud and clear.

“You're only saying that because you want to eat me out,” You half joked. Joon rolled his eyes as he slipped his fingers inside. “I'm saying that because I want to take you on dates. I want to eat you out because I can literally feel how wet you are.”

You moaned at his words, twisting your hips in hopes to urge him to move his fingers. “Are you sure? I mean... what if we break up?” That was one of your biggest worries. There was no way you'd be able to go back to the way things once were. Especially not if you started dating.

“We won't.” He began moving his fingers, curled upward they just barely hitting your spot.

“What if you get sick of me?” Your gasp was heard through your words, he smirked.

“I'm already sick of you,” His dimples appeared as he grinned, you laughed hitting his shoulder. “Joon, seriously.” He was slipping his fingers out, slowly lowering himself. “I'm serious. Girlfriend?” His face was between your legs and he didn't waste a minute before he was diving in.

His tongue flickering over your clit as he teased a finger at your entrance. He looked up at you with mischievous gleam in his eye. “Yes or no?” His finger swirled around your hole before slipping all the way in and just as quick, pulling back.

Joon continued to tease you, awaiting your answer. “Yes, yes, yes. ” you moaned after the fourth time he pulled his fingers away.

The grin that took over his features was enough to make your hear t swell. He pushed a two fingers back in, leaning up to kiss your lips before he was lowering himself between your legs again.

[connorspiracy]

Don’t Let The Street Bugs Bite || Connor & Shiloh

Timing: Current Location: Downtown Parties: @connorspiracy & @evanescentform Content: Bug monsters, insects, their skittery little legs Summary: There’s cracks in the ground with insect monsters in them. That sucks. 

Strangeness in White Crest was par for the course, so much so that the absence of strangeness would in itself be strange. Connor kept his proverbial ear to the ground, always on the message boards looking for news, rumours, or anything that might prompt him to investigate. December had itself on overboard already and they weren’t even a week in. He’d heard of cracks opening up around main street and strange insects appearing. Connor had brought bug spray and thick clothing, but he didn’t know how much that would help matters. Rio wasn’t able to film right now, thanks to the recent werewolf attack and hospitalisation, so he was alone, narrating to the camera and switching between shots of himself and the cracks. “Hey,” he called, waving at a nearby jogger with a friendly smile. “Do you wanna do a vox pop?” 

Early morning was the best time to go for a jog given recent events. Lately Shiloh has been a bundle of nerves anytime she’s in public. She hardly wanted to revert to a hermit so she would more or less take control of that and go out for a short amount of time and then come home. This time she would spend the outing on a jog. She hadn’t done much exercise since she came home and she knew that had a toll on her mental well-being as well. She hadn’t expected anyone to really speak to her and had to do a double take when she noticed someone waving at her. She slowed to a stop, pulling her earbud out. “What was that?” She wasn’t sure she heard him right. In the case she did, “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.” She did notice the camera however and she hardly wanted to be on camera at the moment but maybe it would be something quick. She didn’t want to be rude after all.

Connor didn't let himself get embarrassed by filming. Yeah, people would look at him weird when he was out there talking to his camera, but he just figured that was their problem. He did get a little embarrassed when he had to approach people though. He'd wanted to head out early so there'd be fewer distractions for the video, but that also meant fewer people to talk to. "Oh, bugger, you were wearing earbuds. I didn't mean to bother you," he said with a polite chuckle. "A vox pop is like... the opinion of the public. Like when you see Joe from Sweansea being asked what he thinks about the club's new mascot on the news." He'd put the camera down for the moment, not wanting to film her unless she agreed. "I'm making a video about the cracks. Have you heard anything about 'em?" He gestured to the strange space in the ground where the road should have been connected. 

As he explained what a vox pop was, Shiloh wondered what he could be asking for. Then she turned to look down at the cracks. Come to think of it, she had seen them around town. She just assumed they were normal cracks but… anything in this town was far from normal. “Uh, I - I dunno. I think maybe an underground tree root sprouting out or… or just long overdue maintenance on the streets.” She chuckled, hoping he would find her normal reasonings satisfactory. She pulled out her other earbuds and put them away, giving him her attention. She looked down at the cracks once more, wondering what could have caused it. The way it kind of jutted out made it seem like it was something underground and god knows what might be underneath the city. “What do you think it might be?” She asked, curious of his opinion. 

Well, that answer was pretty boring. Connor scrunched his nose, a little disappointed. He wanted to get out here and film something, and this jogger was trying to convince him it was some kind of tree with its roots under the ground. “It’s happening in places where there aren’t any trees around. And people have reported… things coming out of them.” Connor leaned down a little, holding up his camera again to see if he could see anything down there. “White Crest. Pretty much the only explanation anyone needs, isn’t it?” he said with a low chuckle, narrowing his gaze. He was sure he saw something move down there. “Do you see something in there?” 

At his rebuttal, Shiloh just looked away and half-listened. She wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince - Shiloh preferred not to let just anyone know she believed in anything other than the normal right off the bat. “Honestly, White Crest nonsense is the reason for just about anything that happens here.” However, she hoped that wasn’t caught on camera considering it seemed a rather harsh thing to say about things like the many deaths and kidnappings that happened within town lines. As he called for her attention she leaned forward, wanting to see if she did catch anything inside the cracks. She didn’t seem to see anything in there. Seeing a piece of upturned gravel, Shiloh kicked it, sending it toward the crack, seeing if that would show that nothing was really down there. In retrospect, it was a completely stupid idea to poke the unknown and she should have known that. The cracks grew bigger and she saw something poke out of the ground. Was that--? Spider leg? She backed up, motioning Connor to do the same until whatever it was emerged.

"Glad you understand," Connor said, only half-joking as she returned his words about 'White Crest Nonsense'. He looked over at her with a small smile, testing the waters. You couldn't exactly blame the Cresters for being so bloody serious, but sometimes they were sooo bloody serious. He watched as she kicked some gravel into the hole. This time, he did have the camera rolling, strapped on a chest holder to leave his hands free. "What the fu--" He scrambled backwards as the long, hairy leg made its way out of the hole, followed by the rest of its insectoid body. "ARGH!" He continued to back up, trying not to trip over his own feet. After seeing people's photos and videos online, he'd opted to bring bug spray, and he unleashed it, which only seemed to irk the thing. It made a strange, skittering sound and its mouth clicked. "Stomp on it or something!" 

Shiloh hardly was one to get worked up over a bug but the sheer size of it was more than enough to rattle her. When she saw him spray something in its direction she wondered what it was - either way, it didn’t seem to have any affect on it. Maybe made it a bit angrier. “What was that?” She asked, hoping he got the hint not to use that again. It darted to them which made her back up in reaction. Maybe now was a good time to run. “I didn’t bring my huge spider stomping boots on my run today, sorry.” Shiloh didn’t know how he would even expect her to stomp on it without at least a jump and a spider was much too fast for that. As Shiloh continued walking back her feet got caught on something and she almost tumbled down but caught her footing. Yet, the ground continued to rumble. As she thought about what to do another spider leg shot out of the ground, this time much larger than the one before. “Oh fuck.” She muttered. “C’mon we gotta move out of here!” As she spoke, a larger spider emerged from the ground, kicking up chunks of asphalt.

“Bug spray!” Connor answered, as if that was completely fucking obvious. Ghosts he was completely fine with, but ants the size of hamsters were another matter entirely. He sprayed it continuously until the bottle was empty, then he threw the bottle at it, none of which helped. In fact, it was bringing friends. “Shit, shit, shit, shit--” Connor cursed as he fled from the creatures. “This what you had in mind when you went for a morning run?!” His camera was strapped to his chest in a secure harness, but he still felt it moving and hitting the top of his ribs due to the sheer speed with which he ran. The other creature that had emerged was the size of a small dog, and several more of varying mass skittered behind them. “My car--we can--” He gestured vaguely towards the Jeep Renegade that was parked at the end of the street, scrambling for his keys as they grow closer. 

“I was being sarcastic!” Shiloh explained, although was now really a good time to be arguing with someone? Shiloh could just as easily push him into the spiders and save herself! But she wasn’t going to do that because that’s kind of an awful thing to do. “You want to make a run for the car?” Shiloh asked him because if they were going to run now would be the time to do it. They were gaining on them and Shiloh didn’t want to be spider food. Or any kind of food today. “C’mon then!” She urged as she bolted off in the vague direction he gave. Even if she wasn’t heading for it, she’d still outrun them. She had been running for a few seconds before realizing she should have made sure he was right alongside her. She turned to look for him, hoping he was right behind her.

Connor was way too concerned with getting to the vehicle to come up with any kind of snappy response. The insects of varying shapes and sizes had emerged from the hole and were gaining distance on him. Six legs apparently ran faster than two. Shiloh had already been running before he’d even met her, so Connor supposed she must have been pretty good at it, because she practically left him in the dust. His car keys were pressed into the palm of his hand, and he lifted his arm to unlock it as Shiloh grew closer, only to yelp as a pair of pincers or teeth or whatever these bloody things had clamped itself around his ankle. “OW! Hey! Get off!” He tried to hit at it, but his muscles felt heavy. Something was wrong. “He-hel..” He couldn’t even finish the single syllable. 

Shiloh’s eyes dropped to him - on the floor. Oh no. No, no, no. She darted back towards him without a second thought, her mind immediately knowing she had to help him. Her own concern for her well-being and safety out of her mind. She tried to help him get up but the spider’s grip on him was strong and it seemed like Connor was going limp. “A-are you okay?” She asked knowing it was stupid considering he wasn’t speaking. She looked down at him and they met eyes. Something was wrong. Knowing she wasn’t going to be able to yank him away from the bug without causing further injury to him she set him down. The large one was coming closer and Shiloh wasn’t going to try and fight that one. Clenching her fists, she swung her leg back and then kicked forward into the spider’s abdomen, sending it flying away. The other spider seemed concerned with its fellow spider’s well-being and started to scurry off in the direction it flew. She looked down at Connor who remained unmoving.  “Okay, I’m going to pick you up, alright?” Squatting down, she picked him up (with ease) and continued to head toward the direction of his car.

Connor was fully aware, but he couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak. He was just frozen, completely helpless as the creatures continued to swarm. This was it, he thought. He was going to fucking die, eaten alive by insect monsters. He heard Shiloh asking him a question, but he couldn’t answer it. He simply hoped the movement of his eyes and the desperation in them said that yes, please, please pick him up. She did, and he felt himself being moved at what seemed to be an impossible speed. Thank god she was one of those buff girls. The world faded into the back interior of his jeep as Shiloh hurriedly placed him there, doors slammed, keys turned in the ignition, and Connor felt himself breathe a sigh of relief as they sped away. If he was the cat, curiosity had nearly killed him. 

Shiloh didn’t know where she was going. To the hospital? Was he still breathing? She glanced over before remembering she was driving and should keep her eyes on the road. “I can take you to the hospital, if you’d like. I really don’t know what else to do.” She spoke aloud to him, not expecting a response. “C-Can you grunt or anything? Anything at all to let me know you hear me and you’re okay?” Shiloh asked this time, turning once she was at the light. She looked him over, happy to see he was looking around which meant he was more or less conscious? Shiloh could only hope the hospital might be able to help him in some way. Somehow. Shiloh woke up from her thoughts with a honk from behind her. She looked up and continued driving.

Connor could, in fact, breathe. His eyes and his mouth could barely move, but not well enough to be able to speak. He just closed his eyes so they didn’t get dry and so the movement of the vehicle didn’t make him sick. He let out a sound in response to what Shiloh was saying, a grunt, a grown, a death rattle? He just hoped Shiloh could hear whatever it was over the sound of the road. He didn’t know where she was taking him, but time seemed to drag on and on, as if he’d been this way for hours. By the time the vehicle came to a stop, he thought he could feel his finger starting to twitch. The flashing red and blue lights told him they were at the hospital and he whimpered as the doors opened and medics started talking to him. 

“Hey buddy, can you hear me? It’s gonna be alright. Hang in there.”

Bloody hell, this was embarrassing, but he couldn’t do anything to argue. He felt himself being pulled onto a stretcher and his car, and the person who’d been in it with him, faded from view. 

[justkeeptrekkin]

For a ficlet prompt: masquerade! Today, I passed some really simple understated masks next to some hella gaudy bedazzled ones and started giggling.

This concept is amazing, thank you! It made me instantly think of a flamboyant Villain Mic. I hope you like, my friend. 

Shouta stands at the club door, music thudding through his body. Inside is one of the most exclusive gathering of villains in the city. It hosts his target, a highly dangerous criminal suspected to be liaising with the League of Villains. And whilst he absolutely hates that he’s the one who’s been chosen to track him, he admits that the fact he isn’t recognisable means he’s the most apt for undercover missions.

Not that he’d be all that recognisable anyway, with the mask. A simple black one that Nemuri lent to him- he really doesn’t want to know why she has it. And now he’s here, in front of a sleazy club, and he’s wearing it. Because this villain is dangerous and as much as he hates this kind of work, he’s got to be here.

Trouble is, the bouncer won’t fucking let him in.

He figures there’s little reason arguing. Clearly their intel is wrong. He’s got the wrong password to let him through past the public dancefloor and to the backroom, where his target is located. But breaking in isn’t an option. As it is, Shouta finds himself pursing his lips in frustration, feeling the eyes of drunk club-goers in gaudy masks- and possibly a handful of villains- watching him.

He’s formulating plan- the bouncer is about to remove him, by the looks of it- when he hears a familiar, shrill voice drifting from over everyone’s heads.

“OI! SHOUTA! IS THAT YOU?”

For a moment, he bristles, refuses to turn towards the voice. Present Mic is no stranger to him. He’s worked with him plenty of times as a source of information on other villains. He gives tidbits to the police, and as a reward, he isn’t arrested for his petty crimes. Nothing more than theft, defamation of wealthy public figures that probably deserve it. But he’s enough of a nuisance.

There’s something about him that sets Shouta entirely on edge, and he doesn’t really want to consider what that thing might be.

“SHOUUTTTAAA!”

He can no longer ignore him. He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath to prepare himself, and peers around the bouncer.

Mic is grinning at him and waving enthusiastically from the top step of the club entrance, the neon lights lighting up the edge of his silhouette.  For the first time that Shouta’s ever known him, he’s not wearing sunglasses. Instead, he’s wearing the most absurdly flamboyant mask of anyone in the queue- it’s gold and bedazzled and has feathers sprouting here there and everywhere. Usually, it would probably blend into the ridiculous hairstyle he likes to don. Now, it seems he’s slicked back his hair, so it falls down his back in a cascade.

“Yo yo yo, it’s been forever my dude!”He saunters down the steps, lays a hand on the shoulder of the troublingly large bouncer- who narrows his eyes at Mic warningly. Mic, of course, either doesn’t pick up on the signal or ignores it entirely. Considering how intelligent Shouta knows he is, it’s probably the latter.

“Hey man, this is a buddy of mine, my plus one if you will- did you forget the password, Shou? You can be such a scatterbrain sometimes, am I right?”  

The bouncer heaves a huge sigh before stepping aside and letting Shouta pass. Before he has a chance to move, Mic has his arm linked with Shouta’s and is dragging him into the club like an excited schoolkid. And a part of him wants to argue at being manhandled like this, but he’s also happy to allow Mic to lead him to where he needs to be.

Although, in this case, he has no idea why he’s helping him. Shouta has nothing to offer him in return.

The public area of the club is already messy, floor sticky with spilled booze and masks abandoned in boothes. When Mic opens a back door, manned by another bouncer with a rather threatening rhino quirk, the atmosphere changes entirely. The room is half-lit, no flashing lights to be seen. There’s still music- fairly loud, but it’s slow and heavy. Some people are talking. Some people are dancing. Some people are doing a little more than that, by the looks of things, but it’s dark and Shouta can’t tell. It’s not nearly as frantic as the dance-floor next door, and yet there’s also a palpable feeling of unease in the room. The feeling that every movement is being watched by every single person occupying this room.

This is a writhing, dingy lair of villains, alright.

Mic pulls tighter on his arm. “Come on, Shouta, let’s dance.”“Absolutely not. And I’ve told you not to call me that.”“Would you rather I called you by your other name? Here? Are you super sure about that?”

He has a point, forcing him to call him Eraserhead, or even Aizawa here might be a bit stupid. But there’s something about them being on first name terms that makes Shouta uncomfortable. They may have been working together for a while now, but there’s no way he’d ever call Mic Hizashi. Because that would imply-

“So. We’re not dancing?”Mic pouts. Shouta stares at him.

“I’m here for a reason. Don’t get in my way.”

Mic’s eyes widen slightly behind the mask, calculating. He’s led them to the middle of the dance floor, and bodies are pressing up against him until they’re standing close, too close. There’s some low, throbbing song playing that Shouta doesn’t know and it’s far too warm in here, he realises. And he’s being pushed even closer to Mic, who merely stands there and watches Shouta with interest. And now that he can see him properly, he’s noticed the outfit he’s wearing. A sheer, mesh black top with an absurdly low plunging neckline. A shirt like that doesn’t even have a right to exist. And tight leather trousers- because it wouldn’t be Mic if he wasn’t wearing tight leather trousers.

He notices Shouta’s wondering eyes. “You like the outfit?”“It’s totally unnecessary.”“What, scared it’ll turn you on?”Shouta rolls his eyes and doesn’t deign that with a response. He’s far too close to the truth than Shouta would like to admit.

“Who is it you’re tracking?”“I’m not telling you.”

Mic grabs him by the upper arms, and Shouta stiffens at the contact. “Oh come on, I could help you!”“Not this time.”

For a moment, Mic pauses, and Shouta knows that the clever bastard is figuring something out.

“Why are you here, Mic. What are you doing somewhere like this.”He scoffs, a hand flies to his chest. “What is that supposed to mean?”“You’re a thief, Mic. Everyone here is-”

“I’m an amazing thief.”

“I don’t care.”“Yeah you do,” he says, stepping closer. “I know you care, deep down.”Shouta doesn’t appreciate the joke.

“You still haven’t answered my question.”Those eyes behind the mask flutter, as if he’s remembering that Shouta had asked a question in the first place. Then, he groans theatrically. “You’re so boring. Fine, let’s go over there.”And so Shouta finds himself being manhandled again, towards the edge of the dark room. Mic pushes him, and when Shouta comes to a stop and turns around to question him again, he finds himself trapped against the wall. Mic isn’t touching him- but he’s leaning close, head cocked and lips curled into a smirk.

“You want to know what I’m doing here? You still haven’t told me your side. What’s a place like you doing in a guy like this?”

“And I told you, I’m not telling you.”He sticks out his tongue. “Then I’m not telling you, either.”

“That’s not how this works.”“We’re on my turf now, Shouta.” Mic moves in closer, hand against the wall at Shouta’s side. Shouta tips his head back, keeps his gaze fixed on those green eyes behind the mask.

Mic isn’t touching him. But Shouta swears he can feel him. Can imagine his hands on him.

“This relationship only works because I’m the one in charge,” Shouta says, and even as he says it, he becomes less convinced. Mic snorts- apparently he isn’t convinced either.

��Are you sure about that?”“Tell me why you’re here, Mic.”“Tell me why you’re here, Aizawa Shouta.”

He says it in a low purr. Considering how grating his voice usually is, this new tone is… surprising. It’s interesting. And Shouta can’t help but be distracted by it all; his voice, his lips, the look in his eyes.

“I can tell you’re into this too, Shouta.”“I told you to stop calling me that.”

“You can call me Hizashi, you know. I think we’re at that point now, don’t you?”“No,” he says, a little too quickly. Has he been reading his mind?

“Ooo, defensive,” he sings like a teenager.

“Mic.”

Shouta lays his hands on his shoulders. And he’s just as surprised by the action as Mic appears to be- eyes widening and lips parting.

“Mic,” he tries again. “What are you doing somewhere like this.”And this time, he seems to have debate with himself, because he hesitates. Those brows pull together and raise to his hairline.

“I can’t tell you,” he says quietly.

Shouta feels something in him sink.

“You’re in trouble, aren’t you.”

He blinks at him, looks away. And then he grimaces, rolls out of Shouta’s space and leans his back against the wall beside him. Shouta watches as he props one foot against the wall, knee jutting out, and thrusts his hands in his pockets. He turns his head away.

“It’s complicated.”The words come out of his mouth before he registers them. “I can help.”

Mic snorts, but it’s not a real laugh. He shakes his head, picks at his nails. The music continues to hum through the floor and up Shouta’s body. He hasn’t even tried looking for his target yet. What is he doing?

Before he can consider, Mic adds, “You really do care, don’t you?”

There’s a light-heartedness to Mic’s voice that sounds like a joke. But Shouta knows that’s just a facade.

He doesn’t answer him.

“How did you get sucked into this? This is bigger than you can imagine, Mic.”He sighs, gesticulates vaguely but vigorously. “It’s complicated.”

“You said. But these people are really bad, Mic.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, you think I don’t realise that?” He demands, lips pulling into an angry snarl. “And, by the way, what makes you think that heroes are exempt from being ‘really bad’? What makes you think that you can trust the shitty capitalist regime you fight for? And what about the police forces? Your fellow heroes?”

Mic glares at him, eyes frighteningly wide and shining, and Shouta realises then that Mic knows something. He must know something about the Yuuei traitor.

He opens his mouth to speak, but Mic interrupts him. Naturally.

“You know it’s never as simple as just good and bad. Not everyone in here is evil. Some people… are. And sometimes you end up mixed up in that shit. It’s never black and white.” He pauses, and Shouta waits. Watches the way his slicked back hair pours down his back. Wishes he could see his face. Neither one of them seem to register that there are other people in the room. “You know, a lot of people mistake me for a hero. Since I’m more the, steal from the rich, give to the poor, type. But that still makes me a villain in the government’s eyes, doesn’t it? And then there’s you. Everyone assuming you’re a villain, first glance.”

Shouta frowns. “Nobody even knows who I am.”

Mic tuts. “Right, but I know for a fact that the people you’ve caught and had arrested thought you were a bad guy at first. I mean come on, man. The tired, red eyes? The scars? The outfit? It screams villaine extravaganza.”

Shouta snorts, shakes his head to himself. And then he looks back at Mic. Because this is a real conversation. This is the most vulnerable he’s seen him.

This is Hizashi.

“Point is,” he continues, “I know you know this world’s not so simplistic. You and I, we’re on the same page, when it comes to heroes and villains, you know? We’re neither. We’re in between the goodies, and the… really bad guys.”

Mic turns to him. He smiles. It’s painfully unguarded, and Shouta wishes things were different.

“I can help,” he says again.

Mic’s smile wobbles, and he shakes his head decisively. Shouta finds himself laying a hand on his arm, and Mic looks at him again.

And then, out of nowhere, Mic leans in and kisses him. Gentle and filled with emotions that Shouta can’t parse right now. He pulls away too soon, rests his hand on Shouta’s cheek for a moment.

“No, you can’t.”

He pushes himself off the wall. Shouta watches Hizashi disappear into the crowd, and feels everything he knows about himself crumble and break.

[sporadichearttcollector]

VLD SS 2K17

My @voltron-ss present fic for @phylix 

Happy holidays! Hope you like this!

ao3 link here

Read under the cut

5 TIMES LANCE KISSES KEITH UNDER THE MISTLETOE AND 1 TIME KEITH KISSES LANCE

Keith loves the couch. Specifically the blue one in what the team had dubbed the break room, and specifically the corner seat, where he can curl up and take cat naps in the starlight. It’s really the best place for naps on the entire castle ship. It’s perfect for days like this one, when they didn’t have any missions, no distress signals, just a day of nothing.

At least, that’s what Keith spent the morning thinking the day would be.

He’s in the middle of one of the infamous naps in his corner seat when the sound of footsteps drags him back to consciousness. Keith doesn’t bother to open his eyes, knowing exactly who those mismatched, out of sync, soft steps belong to.

Lance.

Keith can hear the slight scuff of his blue lion slippers on the floor, and a small smile slides onto his lips as he curls his toes inside his own red slippers. He’s been dating Lance for three months now, having finally spewed his guts about his enormous crush on the blue paladin one night after a mission that nearly led to Lance losing his life, and they had been disgustingly in love (not that they had told each other) ever since.

“Keeeeith!” Lance calls out softly, and Keith can feel his weight on the back of the couch, slim fingers ghosting over Keith’s cheek. Keith lets his eyes flutter open and he twists a bit, letting out soft, sleepy noises as he adjusted so he was facing his boyfriend.

“How dare you interrupt my nap,” He muttered, blinking a few times. Lance is leaning over the back of the couch, a grin tugging the corners of his lips up.

“I’m so very sorry, Your Highness.” Lance coos. “I have a surprise for you.” Keith arches an eyebrow.

“Oh really now?” He laughs softly.

“Yup!” Lance’s eyes were bright, excited. Keith can’t held the smile that slides onto his face. He adores seeing Lance happy, and whatever this surprise is will be worth it just to spend a few minutes seeing that excited glint in his blue eyes.

“Well, what is it?” He asks, gently shaking the hair out of his face. Lance’s smile grows, and he leans forward a bit, jutting his chin out like he’s going to whisper something.

“Mistletoe!” Lance reveals before leaning down and slotting his lips against Keith’s. Keith could see a flash of the green leaves and red berries before Lance was kissing him and damn if he didn’t lose his train of thought because of it. His hands slid up to grab at Lance but he’s pulling away and Keith lets out an unhappy sound, fingers stretching out to pull Lance back. Keith’s eyes slide back open, when did he close them? Lance shakes the little bit of fake shrubbery at him, a smirk on his lips, and he spins around, fleeing from the room.

“Lance you little-!” Keith sits up too fast and has to stop to hold his head at the rush of dizziness that floods him. A sense of dread starts to coil low in Keith’s stomach as he realizes that it’s winter back on earth, and somehow Lance knew about it. He won’t be surprised if,  when Keith takes a walk through the castle, it’s decorated with tinsel and lights that Pidge and Hunk put together. Lance is going to pull this little stunt again, Keith knows, and his face floods with color at the thought of his boyfriend laying one on him in the middle of some important diplomatic meeting because Mistletoe, Keith! Mistletoe!

He groans and sinks back down into his seat.

~

Keith peers around the corner. After the mistletoe incident in the lounge, Keith had carefully avoided any spaces where Lance could have placed the little plant. It isn’t that he doesn’t enjoy kissing Lance, Keith loves kissing him. But the whole mistletoe thing, it’s just cheesy. Keith may absolutely adore cheesy, but he has a reputation to uphold and Lance constantly being sweet and fucking adorable is seriously threatening it.

Keith tip toes to the bedroom, knowing full well that Lance is in the kitchen with Hunk and there is no possible way he’s going to jump out from a instantaneously appearing closet and toss a bundle of leaves at him. He still tip toes. Keith takes great care in pressing his hand to the scanner, wincing at the loud beep and low slide of the door as it separates. Keith sighs softly, walking forward and begins to shrug off his jacket, turning in preparation to throw it on the hook next to the bed.

Lance is standing there, grin plastered on his face as he points upwards, eyes glinting. Keith doesn’t have to look to know there is a cluster of mistletoe hanging from their ceiling, probably held by some of the ridiculously sticky goo Hunk managed to concoct last week. Lance doesn’t wait before grabbing Keith by the lapels, pushing him softly against the wall and bringing their lips together as his hands slide down Keith’s back, shoving the jacket off of him. Keith gasps and his hands clutch the front of Lance’s shirt, his heart hammering. He doesn’t let go when Lance tries to pull away.

“You’re not pulling that disappearing act again, cargo pilot.” Keith smirks, knowing the teasing name would ensure the two would not leave the room for several hours.

Lance locks the door and tugs Keith towards the bed.

~

Keith is quickly realizing that Lance had taped mistletoe up in every single room in the castle.

They’re in a strategy meeting, and Pidge’s immediate snickering when they walked in alerted Keith to the little plant stuck to the ceiling. Everyone had carefully walked around it, Keith shooting Lance an annoyed look. Lance had just laughed and made kissy faces at him.

So, for the last hour and a half of this meeting with the Blade of Marmora, Keith has had to look at the mistletoe and make sure to avoid it. There is no doubt, not even the tiniest speckle, in Keith’s mind that were he to make the mistake of stepping under the stupid thing Lance would absolutely smack a kiss on him, right there in front of the Blade members. Which, Keith lamented, would completely ruin what little reputation he had built up with the Blade as a cool and professional person when he turned redder than Coran’s hair and spluttered some expletive at Lance, or even worse dragged Lance from the room to give him far more than what was deemed necessary for mistletoe.

“I think it would be advantageous to move forces from here,” Keith walks around the table, eyes intent on the battle plans laid out. He reaches out, softly pushing the Nnmerxian’s representative block over. Nnmerxians would be better use against the bigger galran forces in a big battle, not the small area planned… Keith hears snickering and sees a slow movement out of the corner of his eye. He looks up, confused. Is his idea ridiculous, he wonders as he surveys the room.

Lance is slowly walking towards him, a small smile on his lips. Keith sucks in a breath when he realizes he had unwittingly walked right under the damn mistletoe.

“Lance, not right now!” He hisses, brow furrowing. “We’re in a meeting.” With aliens who are absolutely going to give us shit for something this unprofessional! He scowls at Lance, who shrugged, smile growing into a grin as he advanced.

He can still hear Pidge and Hunk laughing, and see the confused looks on the Blade members faces.

“Mistletoeeeeee!” Lance sings, reaching Keith and throwing his arms around him to prevent escape.

“We are in a meeting!” Keith’s heartbeat speeds up, his breathing sputtering at Lance’s close proximity. He can feel his cheeks heating, and does absolutely nothing to stop Lance from pressing a gentle kiss to his lips in front of everyone. His fingers grip Lance’s jacket tightly, and his muscles quiver, any inhibitions or worry’s flying right out of his head.

A member of the Blade, Kolivan, makes a throaty sound that yanks Keith from the little moment he was having and he shoves Lance away, angry that he had done that and angry that Keith had let him. His face is bright red as he looks around the room, embarrassed and upset. The other paladins wear looks of concerned, and the Blade seem plain uncomfortable.

Keith spins around, stalking from the room, without sparing Lance another glance. He can’t think, can barely breathe. The Blade won’t want to work with him anymore, they will think he’s stupid and a child, distracted. Keith will lose what little connection he has to the half of him that is galra.

He makes it halfway across the castle to into his old bedroom, the one he abandoned for Lance’s, and collapses onto the bed. He curls up into a ball and bites at his knees.

The embarrassment washes over him in waves that fill his throat and make it hard to breath, that clench his fists and leave little half crescents in his palms as he struggles to keep his distressed noises quiet.

~

It’s hours before Lance stumbles into the room, an anxious look on his face. Keith is in full meltdown, and barely notices the arms that wrap around him, the soft words that are murmured in his ears. Keith ignores them in favor of attempting to breathe.

Finally, he breaks.

“Everyone must think I’m an idiot now, huh?” Keith whispers miserably. He knows he’s right, and his thoughts are just a mantra of Why did I do that? Why did I do that? Why did I do that? WhydidIdothatwhydidIdothatwhydididothat????

“Nah, they’re all just worried. I’m sorry, Keith. I didn’t know you would react like that.” Lance rubs his back softly, a genuinely concerned look on his face. “The Blade actually thinks the whole mistletoe thing is hilarious, believe it or not.” Keith’s head snaps up.

“What? You… You explained it to them?” He chokes out a laugh at the thought of Lance explaining the absolutely bizarre human tradition that is kissing under the mistletoe.

“I did and Allura helped, and I told them you probably reacted like that because it’s stupid and you don’t want them to think you’re stupid because they’re the only connection you have to being galra.” Lance says.

“I thought the lions were supposed to be the mind readers,” Keith sniffs, wiping roughly at his nose. “How did you know?” Lance laughs quietly.

“You’re kind of obvious, babe.” He smiled. “And I know you pretty well. There’s embarrassment, and then there’s the patented ‘Now everyone is going to despise me’ Keith look.” He presses a soft kiss to Keith’s forehead. “Is it bad that I hung mistletoe in here too?” Lance asks quietly, pointing up at the large bundle of mistletoe above them. Keith cracks a smile before bursting out in deep belly laughter.

“You’re awful!” He giggles, slapping Lance’s arm and leaning into him.

“I love you.” Lance says. Keith gawks at him. His face is serene, the smallest of smiles tugging at the corners of his mouth. Keith gasps in a stuttered breath before sitting up and throwing a leg over Lance’s, straddling him as he brings their lips together and his fingers curl tightly in Lance’s hair.

“I love you too.”

~

Lance walks into the observation deck, a small note clutched in his hand from Keith saying to meet there. His eyes go wide at the immense array of decorations. Tinsel and garlands and lights hang from the high ceilings and a fake tree that Lance’s view stumbles over. But what really gets him is that there is mistletoe hanging in strings.

“Pretty, right?” Keith asks softly, walking out from behind a pillar and gently adjusting an ornament on the tree. “It took hours to put it all up.” He smiles at Lance, who looks like he might cry.

“It’s gorgeous,” Lance’s voice is thick and Keith thinks he just might really cry actual tears. His heart squeezes at the thought. “I love it.” Keith’s heart speeds at the words, so close to those uttered the night before. Just the thought had Keith’s eyes stinging.

Lance loves him.

Keith loves Lance.

Keith isn’t surprised when he feels Lance’s arms at his waist and Keith grins, bringing his hand up to dangle a single little bundle of mistletoe above their heads.

“Mistletoe,” He whispers as their lips meet. “Happy whatever holiday you celebrate.”

“Christmas. It’s Christmas Eve.” Lance smiles. “But you knew that.”

“I also know that Hunk and Pidge are jewish and Allura and Coran have their own funky alien religious stuff. Figured I shouldn’t assume.” Lance kisses him again.

“I love you.” Keith has a feeling his heart isn’t ever going to not speed up like he’s just run ten miles when he hears those words fall from Lance’s lips.

“And I love you,” Keith smiles. He’s okay with it. It’s a good feeling.

~fin~

[thecoliverlibrary]

Losing you hurts like hell

Gift Type: Fan Fiction Title: Losing you hurts like hell Author: @dreamerxnheaven Recipient: @valeriianz Rating: Teen+ Warnings: None Word Count: 1737 Author’s Note: I really hope this is at least a little bit like you imagined it to be an I hope you’ll lke it :)

“Connor? What are you doing here?”

His sister looked and sounded tired, her arms wrapped around herself in front of her doorstep, looking at him like she wondered if he had completely lost it.

Maybe he had. Connor couldn’t tell – he had been driving for hours on pure adrenaline with the music so loud that a part of him wondered why he hadn’t been stopped by the police. And wouldn’t have that been hilarious? Getting away with murder just to go to jail for driving like a maniac.

“Are you hurt? Did something happen to Oliver?“

The sound of Olivers name snapped him out of his thoughts and he almost laughed hysterically. Of course. Gemma had no idea that they had broken up in the first place. He had thought that he could fix things, that he could win Ollie back.

“He broke up with me.”

Gemmas eyes widened almost comically and again, Connor almost laughed.

“He broke up with me a couple of weeks ago because he needed space and time on his own and I -.”

Of course he wanted to get away from him. He was no good in relationships, he was good for a quick fuck or two, but nobody would bring him home to meet the family. Aiden had even called him by nothing but his last name the first time they had met after Aiden had dumped him. And the guy before him – well he had made it certainly clear that being with Connor was more work than he was worth. Damaged, slutty Connor Walsh.

He felt Gemma’s arms around him (when had his sister even moved?)and something in him broke. A sob escaped his lips and he buried his head on her shoulder, shaking violently. He shouldn’t even be here, he should be at their flat, with Oliver, in his arms, watching some dumb movie, eating takeout or simply make out with him. He shouldn’t be at his sisters doorstep crying his eyes out over a broken heart.

“I love him, Gemma.”, he whispered hoarsely between sobs, “I love him and he just left me like – like I never meant anything to him in the first place, like-”

Deep down Connor knew that he was being unfair, that Oliver did what he thought was the best for him and that he tried to deal with the break up in his own way, but a much bigger part of him didn’t want to be fair or objective. He wanted to cry and shout and curl up under a blanket, just for a while, to forget that somewhere out there the love of his life was probably not even thinking about him.

“Oh darling.”, Gemma mumbled and he felt her press a soft kiss against his temple. “Come on, let’s get you inside first.”

He let himself be pulled inside, still shaking and tears running down his cheeks. Connor knew that he probably looked like a mess right now but for once he couldn’t bring himself to care. For years he had convinced himself that he wasn’t one for relationships, that they just weren’t worth the trouble. And then Oliver came along with his smile and his cute glasses and his warmth and before he knew it Connor catched himself lowering his guard, letting him in, showing him the true Connor Walsh. The one who got insecure, who sang in the shower and who made breakfast and even the fucking crossword.

Maybe he had expected too much. Maybe he had relied too much on Oliver -

Oliver. Even his name made everything inside of him ache, made him want to jump right back into his car, right back home, to him, to ask him, beg him, for another chance, just one Ollie, please, just one, I need you, please.

He didn’t notice that Gemma lead him towards the guestroom, until she gently urged him to sit down on the bed.

It was like a part of him hadn’t caught on to the fact that Oliver had dumped him. Or at least he had thought that they could fix things between them, that soon enough he would be back in Olivers arms and their apartment before he knew it.

But today, in the clinic, something had snapped inside of him. Oliver seemed -

He seemed happy and while Connor wanted nothing more than his happiness it still felt like a punch in the face that, apparently, everything Oliver needed to be happy was to be away from him.

Oliver didn’t want him anymore.

——————————————————————————————————

A whole week passed like that. For the next day Connor had called in sick, but the day after Gemma had driven him to the clinic herself with the very real threat of kicking his ass if he would sabotage his future (What Future? Connor wanted to ask, You wouldn’t talk about my future if you knew what I did.) over a guy.

And now he saw Oliver every day, knowing that Oliver was moving on (he had to, he didn’t look even half as shitty as Connor was feeling and he didn’t knew if he wanted to punch him or fuck him because good god those suits were hot and Connor still couldn’t look at Annalises desk without getting flustered) while he was aching to feel his warm skin under his fingers, to run his hand through his soft hair or just to hear him talk about his day or the new Star Wars movie.

Connor had tried. After two days being miserable he had gone out, chatted up a guy and ended up fucking him in an ally behind a bar. And yet, after the guy (Edmund? Edwin?) was gone Connor didn’t feel better. What made it worse, he hadn’t stopped thinking about Oliver, not even once. There was a horrible, aching hole in his chest and fucking random strangers behind bars wasn’t going to fix it.

Apparently he was way more drunk than he had thought.

Connor blinked slowly, looking at the guy next to him who was leading him out of the bar. “Y'know.”, he mumbled, “You really look like my Ex.”

The guy snorted in response, something Connors drunk mind just couldn’t understand. “Oh, that’s a good thing.”, he explained and the guy suddenly walked slower. “I mean it’s dark as fuck, but – like – you look a lot like him and – and that’s he good thing because he’s beautiful.” He leaned more into the stranger, “He’s beautiful and smart and perfect and I ruined everything” A tiny part of him knew he was rambling but at the end of the day – who cared, really? “I – I cheated on him and he forgave me and I don’t know how but I went and fucked things up again and now he doesn’t love me anymore.”

The guy was silent for a couple of minutes but Connor didn’t even notice.

“It’s my fault.”, he finally mumbled, “I lied to him. I wanted to protect him but he knew I was hiding something and he couldn’t love a liar. But now he’s gone and – and that doesn’t even mean he’s safe because now he’s working for her, and it’s all her fault because she made us do this in the first place, if it wasn’t for her – if it wasn’t for her I would still have him and -”

“We’re at your apartment.”, the guy interrupted him.

“Do you have a cold?”, Connor mumbled, “You sound weird.”

The guy sniffed. “I – go to sleep, Connor.”

Connor jut nodded and let himself into the building.

It wasn’t until he laid in bed that he wondered when he had told the stranger Michaela’s address.

Or his name.

Outside Oliver leaned against the door and closed his eye, tears streaming down his cheeks. Connors words were echoing inside of his head.

When he had seen Connor leaning against a table all by himself and completely trashed he hadn’t even hesitated to lead him outside to bring him to Michaela’s, which was just around the corner. Connors weight had been warm and solid against his side and Oliver had missed him, but he also didn’t need long to realize that Connor was so drunk he didn’t even realize it was him he was talking to.

And now he doesn’t love me anymore.

As if he could ever stop loving Connor, even for a heartbeat. As if he could ever stop missing him.

He had tried, god had he tried. And Thomas had been nice, but at the end of the day he wasn’t Connor and every single reminder of that, every time he had done or said something that Connor never would his heart had ached a little bit more for the man he no longer had in his life, So he had called things off with him this evening before he went out to get drunk and to forget about the disaster that was his love life.

Instead he had bumped into his Ex (and didn’t the reminder of that fact hurt) and now his words were replaying in his head over and over again.

Like Connor mentioning lying and secrets. A part of Oliver couldn’t help but wonder if Connor would actually answer him if he went over tomorrow and asked him. After all Connor had said he would do whatever he wanted if that meant Oliver would give them another chance. Did that include the truth about whatever it was Annalise made him and the rest of he Keating five do?

With a last glance towards the building he knew Connor was in right now, he turned around and slowly made his way towards his own flat, replaying every single word Connor has said in his head, wanting nothing more than to turn around, knock at Michaela’s door and tell him to come home.

But even now, with hiss heart aching for Connor, he knew that that would be a bad idea. He knew he couldn’t be with him, no matter how much he wanted to, until the younger man started to finally be open and honest with him.

The next morning Connor woke up with a hangover and a text message that made his heart ache in the best and worst way possible.

[Oliver 01:30 am] I don’t know how much you remember of last night but we need to talk. Please come over when you read this.