#last cross-tagged post btw

[jessamine-rose]

Capitano in Natlan’s Archon Quest, Capitano in Hoyofair, 12 fics + short posts written for Capitano, 9 WIPs + fic ideas for Capitano, at least 5 dreams about Capitano x Damsel…..

Atp I might as well call 2024 the Year of the Captain _:(´ཀ`」 ∠):

[petitgalaxy]

..

[cyberm4n]

You've now filled my head with nothing but Alastor and Lucifer brainrot. Any other sharing thoughts you have for them? (I cannot stop thinking about them, I quite literally thought about them sharing me during my entire 8hr retail shift yesterday)

alastor and lucifer sharing you pt 3!

pt1, pt2

this was highly requested, thank you all for the love <3 im tagging anyone who asked/was fine with it last time but now you can fill out this taglist form to ensure you're tagged for future posts!

tags: @lu-ferri12 @my-anime-garden @princessdreamss @polytheatrix @reaper-of-light-12 @ambi-squirrelly @hazelfoureyes @meggletoomanyfandoms @afernandez21

cw: angst ig?? idk reader is upset cause they keep fighting, general relationship issues for a moment, smut, reader gets eaten out, there's some light praise and condescension i think, alastor has a master kink, alastor discovers he LOVES eating pussy, there's like a weird sexual tension between alastor and lucifer for the majority of this if you squint, the ending is VERY suggestive

other: not 100% happy with formatting on this but i wrote majority of it on a 6 hour flight so like. you win some you lose some. not proofread that well, i kind of ramble at times too but it's fine. 2.1k word count and half of it is formatted in a headcanon cuase, again, lazy 6 hour writing. i also don't use the bolding and coloring that much cause it'd be a lot of work.

left the ending a little open, will probably do a poll tomorrow on if people want me to take this that direction.

■ okay so sex aside i would think outwardly everyone knows you're in a relationship with lucifer at the very least

■ but it's kept lowkey with the other part of the relationship

■ which both are fine with btw

■ lucifer loves pda so he's happy, alastor isn't a fan so it's whatever

■ the public part works out because alastor would genuinely be worried about someone trying to use you to get to him

■ it's bad enough that it's known the king of hell has a new partner, but nobody knowing that if they fuck with you they're fucking with the king of hell AND the radio demon is a silent advantage

■ if anyone knows, it's charlie. but only to the extent of like the fact it's a hinge relationship, everything else she doesn't know and honestly doesn't need to know

■ she's just happy her dad seems happy and is getting along better with alastor

■ i think alastor is the kind to really start caring during the relationship vs. lucifer caring about you deeply before

■ so occasionally alastor will pull you aside, or if no one is watching will just press a quick kiss on your forehead.

■ meanwhile lucifer is always making it known he's in love with you

■ arm around your shoulder, holding your hand, everything

■ again, alastor doesn't really mind unless lucifer decides to be an ass abt it

■ look they still compete with each other sometimes they can't help it

■ then it becomes a game of how much the other can get away with before you either get upset or it's too telling

■ that's the other thing is like, the competing gets really fucking annoying to you

■ we saw them in hells greatest dad it wasn't a want to be a better dad it's just wanting to out do the other

■ and when it transfers to your relationship it gets agitating fast

moving on

■ relationship side alastor isn't as involved with that

■ but if either of them did something that upset you or like there was a lovers quarrel between you and either side it's a big deal to them

■ especially if you're only upset with one half of the hinge

■ cause like, sure, they could compete with each other and purposefully drive you apart

■ but tbh.. both of them lowkey like this arrangement much more than they thought they would

■ so they end up talking to each other about it and figuring out what to do

■ same if you're upset with both

■ not that you're upset often it's just that when you are it's usually cause they crossed a line in their little competition

■ and they hate making their girl feel like a prize to be won :(

■ whatever their solution is, they do it together.

■ show you they can get along, that they both care about you enough

■ you're in your room, a bit of a blow up happened earlier after they got into one of their arguments

■ it's not that you genuinely think theyre using you to get to the other but sometimes with the way they act it's easy to doubt

■ anyways, they both come in, it's late

■ i cry when im frustrated/upset and i think it's a pretty normal reaction, so let's just say you're crying a little

■ they're both immediately at your side, apologizing profusely

■ you've never cried like this before

■ it scares them. alot.

■ for once there's absolutely no competition, the only worry is making you feel better.

■ both sitting next to you on the couch, lucifer murmuring how much he loves you, and how he knows how much alastor cares for you

■ i hate the whole "alastor doesn't understand emotions" thing because he does. he has to, he knows how to read people well.

■ it's just he hasn't ever comforted someone

■ he doesn't know what to do when someone he cares about is upset

■ so he's glad lucifer is here, as alastor just sits at your side nodding along and gently rubbing your back

■ alastor only tunes back in when lucifer offers to give some space for the night, and a little murmur from you agrees but asks they both come to bed that night

■ given its usually only lucifer who actually sleeps in the same bed as you alastor is surprised

■ but lucifer is beckoning him out for some space.

"cmon, we'll be back in an hour yeah?" he chimes from the door, and with a squeeze of your shoulder alastor is out of the door, but he opts to walk along with lucifer. "we gotta do better" lucifer sighs as he walks, not looking over at alastor. he's not accusing alastor, he seems equally disappointed in both of them.

"for her?" alastor adds, and lucifer gives a hum of agreement. "this while ordeal has been quite... stressful as of late, no?" alastor adds, "to our own faults, yes" lucifer murmurs, giving a sigh. alastor nods, and the two men walk in silence for some time, ending up in the parlor, husk far since gone to bed. "want anything?" lucifer pulls alastor back to reality once again, he's standing behind the bar while alastor had been staring off, his mind running with thoughtd of god knows what.

"whiskey, my friend?" alastor suggests, and giving it a considerate thought lucifer pours two glasses. the silence falls over them again, just the sound of the clink of their glasses on the counter.

"so tell me, how do you do it when you pleasure her?" alastor breaks the silence, lucifers eyes dart up to him. thinking for a moment before replying "i don't really think tonight is the time for that—" lucifer says, but in a gentle tone.

"no no, in the morning." alastor says, staring down at his glass. "you two indulge often in the morning, correct?" alastor says, now his eyes uncomfortably on lucifer. Watching as the other man almost pales a little, swallowing thickly.

lucifer immediately falters, giving a sigh. "look it's not— i‐ that's not her fault–" lucifer immediately starts, assuming this is a confrontation. his eyebrows raise as alastor shakes his head. "oh please, if i had problem with it i would have done something" he says, a static crackle echoing through the room. "no, i want to know how you do it when you... when it's just about her. how can i do the same?" alastor asks, and this is even more surprising to lucifer than this whole fucking idea in the first place.

■ so lucifer of course explains some stuff to him, of course it's hard because unless he's done it before it's hard to articulate some of his "moves"

■ i mean lucifer can hardly resist going down on you everytime, he's definitely experienced but it's hard to transfer that knowledge at times

■ but he's impressed alastor even asked

■ so when they return to your room, they're a lot more calmer with each other than before.

■ that night changed a lot between them tbh

■ it's slightly awkward for both of them when everyone gets settled in the bed

■ you're on your back, lucifer on your right side and alastor on the left.

■ they're both holding you to the best of their abilities

■ lucifer gives alastors hand a squeeze before shuffling it to have a better grasp on your waist

■ you all peacefully sleep through the night, not shifting much but it's pretty comfortable

■ is the morning you're mostly cuddled into alastor, which is entirely lucifers doing

■ when you're all awake though alastor gets arguably nervous

■ but you being you, you slump over onto alastors chest, murmuring some affection to him

■ lucifer gives a nod, it's time.

■ he'd honestly probably move to get out of bed, assuming some privacy is wanted

■ but he feels a shadow wrap around his forearm, it's a light pressure

■ alastor shakes his head, mouthing a small "please"

after lucifer processes for a moment what exactly is about to go down, he's okay with that. he settles back in, his eyes on the two of you as alastor tilts your chin up, pressing a kiss to your lips. "my dear, would you mind if i tried something a little different with you?" alastor chimes, and you blink your eyes open again, still a bit sleepy as you give a nod.

he gently maneuvers you on the bed so you're laying on your back, his hands pawing at your sleep shorts and pulling them to your ankles. lucifer watches, honestly a little mezmerized by the whole ordeal. he feels proud in an odd sort of way. “I think our little doe deserves a treat, would you like that?” alastor murmurs as he spreads your thighs open. You take a shaky breath before murmuring some form of agreement, maybe even a little plea.

without further prodigy, alastors finally leans down his tongue swiping down your folds, hands grasping your hips to pull you to his face. your hands go to hold lucifers, but he shakes his head tutting at you. “ah ah, that’s not very polite princess” he chides softly, guiding your hands to alastors hair.

and alastor makes good use of the tips and information lucifer gave him, his tongue plunging into your sweet little hole as his nose bumps your clit. his eyes wander up, making eye contact with you as he eats you out so wonderfully. you tug at his hair and he practically growls in pleasure, opting to change tactics and focus his mouth on your clit while his fingers slide inside you, gently curling into your sweet spot.

and lucifer watches it all, absolutely mesmerized. he doesnt know what it is about watching this but theres something about knowing alastor is doing exactly as told to in this scenario that makes lucifer feel warm. he lets alastor steal the show, doing only minimal work. maybe hes softly cooing praises or gently reminding you to show your appreciation to the one making you feel this good.

as you get close, evident by the murmur that falls past your lips, alastors eyes snap to lucifers for a moment, and he takes a moment to think before understanding. usually when youre close alastor is all over you, telling you to be such a good girl and cum, just slight praises and coaxing. given the fact hes face deep in your sweetness he cant really do that, so that job is up to lucifer now.

“isn’t alastor doing such a good job duckling? you want to make sure he knows how good hes treating you, dont you?” lucifer coos, scooting in behind you on the bed so you stop trying to writhe away. “I think he’d be so disappointed if you didnt cum for him, you think you can do that, hm? you wanna cum all over your masters tongue?” lucifer says directly in your ear, and alastor feels a bit of a warmth in his stomach by being referred to as “master”

when you give a weak moan in response lucifer sighs, shaking his head. “be a good girl now, you can do it little doe” he says which is what sends you toppling over the edge, your hips rutting up into alastors mouth, whiny moans coming from you as alastor desperately licks up your sweet release. this whole thing was quite enjoyable for alstor, but hearing lucifer call you “little doe” his petname for you made him smugly satisfied.

after some aftercare which mostly just involved more cuddling, alastor feels satiated enough to shift to leave, before getting a look from lucifer. he reluctantly stays, feeling as you come to lay at his side once more. lucifer seems to take note of something, giving alastor a nod down, he glances down, seeing the obvious tent in his pants. alastor looks back up, slightly annoyed. a like “yeah, no shit dumbass” kind of look is exchanged.

alastor looks back down at you, pressing a kiss to your forehead as you sigh happily. but alastor tenses as he feels a hand on his knee, shooting a glare to lucifer as he traces his hand up a little. the two meet as and alastor takes a shaky breath as lucifer leans in just a little, breathing out the next few words with a calmness alastor admires:

“just keep cuddling her”

[prodagustd]

the road not taken 04 | myg

part four: a wish

Summary: Were you about to go crazy if you started to consider that Yoongi felt something for you?

<part three | part five>

—pairing: lawyer!yoongi x actress!oc

—rating: +18

—genre: brother's best friend, one sided pinning (or both?)

—warnings/tags: slow burn, angst, FLUFF ❤️‍🩹, eventual smut, angst, sexual tension!!!!! flashbacks, ANGST!! mentions of sex 👀Btw english is not my first language!

—words: 9.6k

—a/note: hiiii friends!!! i'm glad to say that it didn't take me six months to post this :D. I genuinely went through the most stressful two months of my life so I'm really proud that I could finish this chapter while trying to survive this thing called being an adult!! Anywayy, I’m excited for this chapter but I’m MORE EXCITED FOR THE NEXT ONE… 👀 so please have patience with this story!!! I promise it’s worth it hehehe. As always, you are more than invited to discuss this chapter in the asks, feedback is always welcomed <3 this one is very fluffy i hope you enjoy ittt. (Also if you read a typo, no you didn’t)

series masterlist | teaser | playlist

Four years ago

Seven days before New Year’s Eve

Were you too naive to still believe your father when he said that you were granted a wish every Christmas? He used to say that every year when he was still around and you were still a kid, when the clock struck twelve you could wish anything you wanted, as long as it wasn’t something material or more presents, you had to wish for something special, something that made you happy. 

The last Christmas before your father passed away you were seven years old and still believed in Santa Claus. That year, for some reason, your wish slipped your mind, you forgot about it completely. You stayed at your house, watched movies the whole day in your pajamas and at midnight your parents let both you and Simon open only one present before sending you to bed. You remembered how your father chased you to the stairs to tickle you until you cried of laughter and how good the cookies your mother made that night were, perhaps that year you were too happy to remember making a wish, perhaps what you had was enough. When you woke up the next morning, you were sad that you had wasted it, but your father, wise as ever, told you not to worry. He said that it was like you were saving your wish for the next year — maybe then it would be stronger, and maybe, since you waited, you would have a better chance of it coming true.

By the time Christmas came the following year your father was already gone, and with him all the magic of the world. You had to grow up, you stopped making wishes and tried to stop believing in stories, but it was difficult when his words were still at the back of your mind like some sort of tradition every holiday season. Despite knowing that magic didn’t exist and perhaps not a single wish of yours had ever come true, you still couldn't help but believe you still had your last wish, and everytime the idea of finally making it crossed your mind, you stopped to tell yourself you could still wait another year, just to be sure. 

That morning you saw Yoongi leaned over his car, adjusting his cap as he saw you walking over to him and you thought about your saved wish for the first time this year. And then again when he grabbed your hand to drag you out of the room, or when he waited for you at the bottom of the stairs before leaving the house, but you wouldn’t admit it, not even to yourself. 

He dragged you all across your grandmother’s hometown as if you didn’t know it like the palm of your hand, as if the streets weren’t filled with kids running and whole families doing last-minute gift shopping, but he didn’t seem to care, so for once, you didn’t let it annoy you either. You observed the happy families and the kids playing in the snow, and sat in the park for as long as the cold weather allowed.

It was like you entered a trance, you tried to fight the urge to snap out of the moment and talked and talked the whole afternoon about everything and nothing at the same time, Yoongi listened and laughed while playing with the ends of your hair, pushing you closer to the edge of illusion. If you weren’t so adamant to stay in that blurry haze, you would’ve done something to stop him, you would’ve push his hand away when he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, you would’ve hated how easy it was for him to play dumb, how natural it was to touch you without feeling something was wrong. You ignored it instead, you ignored him and his wandering hands and the fact that he didn’t dare to mention the moment you shared in the closet, nor the way your noses brushed together, or how his fingers hugged your waist as if you weren’t just friends. Even if you would’ve died for him to say a word about it, to tease you, to attempt to make fun of you just to know that what happened was real and not something you dreamt last night.

If you were really dreaming, you held on to your sleep for a while. When Yoongi found that secondhand bookstore five blocks away from the park, he grabbed your hand when you ran across the street before the traffic lights turned green and stayed inside wandering the aisles with him, you let him lean over to whisper jokes in your ear and you punched his arms when he made you laugh a little bit too loud. You tried to keep your voices low and made a list of books to read the following year. You didn’t buy any of them but you read the prologues and the author’s biographies like it was the most interesting thing in the world. You waited for Yoongi when he started to talk with an old man about a book he needed for college and, when he felt you drifting away, he hooked one of his fingers on the belt loop of your jeans and pulled you close to him again. You felt his hands on your waist, keeping you pressed against the side of your body while he pretended to be focused on the conversation, but he was focused on something else. His long fingers played with the waistband of your jeans as your chest felt tight and your breath felt heavier. Maybe you were beginning to go insane, maybe you had a fever and everything was just a product of your imagination, but a tiny voice inside your head quietly suggested that maybe this time you weren’t insane, maybe it was just him.

It was getting dark outside, and you were supposed to be home anytime soon, but he turned his head to you and whispered in your ear that you should save a seat at the coffee shop next door and wait for him while he paid for the book. Even if it was cold and snowing neither of you wanted to return home yet, so you agreed. You made your way to the cute little coffee shop adorned with Christmas lights and sat on a table to wait for him to arrive at the table, until you saw him entering the shop with a book wrapped in brown wrapping paper in his hands. 

You observed him approaching with your face on the palms of your hands, you watched his eyes scanning the place until they found you in some poor illuminated corner. He smiled, his eyes never left yours as he made his way to your table, and when he sat in front of you, he slid the book towards you. 

“This is for you.” He simply said, crossing his arms over his chest like it was no big deal. 

You frowned, confused. Did Yoongi get you some lawyer book? You didn’t know, you grabbed the wrapped book in your hands and scanned it as if you were able to see through the envelope. “The book you needed for college?”

“It’s not that.” He huffed. “It’s a present.” 

You tried to bite back a smile, but you failed. “Is this your way to tell me you forgot to buy me a Christmas present?” You joked, making him roll his eyes. 

“C’mon, you know me.” He said “I would never give you a Christmas present before Christmas, are you crazy?”

You laughed “So is this not a Christmas present?” You inquired, teasing him. 

“It is a Christmas present, but not the Christmas present that I got for you.” He tried to clarify, and it sounded confusing but you understood him anyway. 

You nodded, tearing the wrapping paper to reveal that Yoongi just bought you an Anne Sexton poetry book, the title “Love Poems” shinned in red on the cover, making you hold your breath for a second. 

You raised your gaze from the book to find his eyes, which were looking at you expectantly, the same way someone looked at the moon, yearning. The same way you were looking at him. 

“How did you know…?” The question died in your lips.

“I just know.” He cheekily said, and that was enough.

You know me, he said, and you felt your heart aching when you realized that Yoongi knew you too, and it was becoming impossible to escape from it.

You spent these past weeks trying to make it disappear, but there it was again, that strange feeling you felt in your chest, like something tugged from a string tied to your heart to try and steal it away. You were sure Yoongi thought he had his ways with you, that he was some kind of genius that knew exactly what to say and what to do to erase the frown from your face and make you laugh, but the truth was that he didn’t need to do much effort to win you over, the truth was that he already had you. He had you then, and he had you now and you weren’t sure if that was ever going to change, but today you didn’t care, you let him walk you home as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders like that warm wouldn’t chill you to the bone when he left. 

You had successfully gone through dinner without having to answer questions about college, or your future, or anything about yourself at all, part of it was because your grandmother didn’t ask any questions to begin with. Maybe you were a bit jealous that she seemed more interested in Eva, your cousin, who was a biochemist and just got engaged, or Aidan, your other cousin, who was just admitted into college, or even Yoongi, who was about to graduate, however, you felt relieved that the attention was not focused on you. You were used to your family thinking that you were a thirteen year old teenager and not a twenty one year adult, the attention was never really on you, sometimes it bounced on you accidentally like a ball and, from time to time, you got to share a glimpse of information about your life, but most of the time your mother answered for you as if you were a kid in the hospital room, trying to include you in conversations and talking about your own projects, and that was enough for everyone. 

In the past, your mother had sat you down several times to explain that your grandmother was never an easy woman, she reassured you that her judgmental behavior was a reflection of herself, not of you. She always offered to let you stay at home if you wanted to, but you refused only for the rest of the family, you could stand being with your grandmother if that meant being with the rest of them. And you learnt to endure it all: your grandmother’s judging look, all the talking about your cousin’s achievements, their goals, projects, flawless record, and the fact that everyone seemed to be finding their paths except for you. You had to learn to pretend you were happy for them and not jealous, you took several breaths and moved on, and for a while you thought that after two decades of your life you had finally mastered the art in not giving a fuck about what your family thought about you, until today when you ran to hide in the closet so they wouldn’t find you. 

You had to work on that, you knew that, but at least for now the blatant disinterest for your life spared you from having to explain your life crisis, at least Yoongi was by your side, redirecting attention to him and the real question everyone wanted to ask but no one dared, a question that eclipsed any other topic of conversation: what was happening between the two of you? 

You looked at him next to you, charming as ever, talking with your uncle across the table. He decided to put on his glasses, his cheeks were pink and the sleeves of his blue sweater were rolled up to his elbows, his arm was casually resting on the top rail of your chair and every time he made a joke he looked at you to check if you were laughing. Every attempt he made to try to make you part of the conversation made your heart swell, but you were more than happy just observing him blending into your family as if he were part of it; you wanted to be as clueless as everyone on the table and believe that Yoongi could be sitting next year at this very same table to be there for you, for a moment you allowed yourself to dream of a reality where he saved you from every family gathering like he was doing tonight.

From the tip of your nose to the tip of your toes you felt warm, almost as if you had a fever. It was probably because you were still wearing your black sweater inside the house or because the memory of the book Yoongi gave you kept your cheeks burning red, or maybe because when dinner was over and your family lingered over the table for the longest time they could, you saw Yoongi tilting his head towards the stairs, meaning it was time to go to bed. 

There was a couple differences between this weekend and the night Yoongi slept with you after coming back from The Alley, that night you wouldn’t have ask him to stay over if you were sober, and he most likely wouldn’t have stay if he wasn’t high, tonight you had to share the room, but it was impossible for you not to be dramatic and always make big deals out of small things. Unlike you, Yoongi didn’t flinch when you told him you were going to sleep in the same room, you failed to remember that you were the one who had a decade-long crush on him and not the other way around.

Now the house was quiet and everyone was scattered around the floors, your cousins were in the living room with your uncle, your grandmother was already in bed, your mom was in the kitchen washing the dishes and Yoongi was upstairs, waiting for you. Before going with him, you changed into your pajamas and went to the kitchen to steal a few cookies that your mother cooked for tomorrow morning. You could wait a few hours more to eat the cookies, but you were desperately trying to look for an excuse to prolong the moment you entered the room you were sharing with the man upstairs. 

You entered the kitchen, making your mother turn around from the sink to take a quick look at you before coming back to the dishes. “Are you already going to sleep?” She asked, a curious tone on her voice. 

“Yeah, but I wanted to grab a few cookies first, is that okay?” You inquired, already opening the cabinet above her head to grab a big plate.

“Just a few, remember they’re for everyone.” She warned, and you hummed in response, knowing that you were going to grab more than just a few. 

The room fell silent for a moment, you heard the water running and your dragging feet making their way to the cookies on the counter before she raised her voice again. “Are they for you and Yoongi?” 

You hummed again “Yes, just a few, I promise.” You said, grabbing what it seemed to be a whole batch of cookies to put on the plate. 

You tried to be quick, putting an extra cookie for the road between your teeth and turning around to escape from your mother before she could see you and scold you for stealing way too many cookies. Trying not to make any noise, as if that could make you invisible, you made your way towards the door to escape, but when you thought you were about to succeed, you heard the nickname your mom used for you from the corner of the room, stopping you in your tracks. 

“Wait, darling.” You heard her tone of voice, surprised that it wasn’t annoyed, but rather motherly. 

You turned around slowly with your guard up, as if in that way she wouldn’t notice the cookie between your teeth. You took it out of your mouth, hiding it behind your back.

“Yes?” You answered, remaining calm. You would not give yourself away when you already made this far. 

She closed the faucet, turning around to face you. Her eyes fell upon you, offering you an apologetic smile, which was weird, it was the kind of smile she gave you when she knew she was about to upset you. It wasn’t the kind of face someone who was about to scold you would make, she looked hesitant, almost worried. 

“I wanted to-... I mean, I wanted to ask you about something.” She said, stumbling with her own words. Her eyes were not focused on the plate on your hands, not even in your face completely, like she was trying to avoid your eyes. You felt a rush of nervousness running down your body and quickly dissipating, you didn’t know why. 

“About what?” You inquired, wiping the crumbs from your mouth. 

She sighed, playing with the towel in her hands to keep her hands busy. “I know you don’t want me to be all over your business, and I’m aware you are not a teenager anymore, but I can’t help worrying a little bit.” She explained, or at least she tried.

You frowned, more confused than ever. The conversation seemed to be taking a completely different path than you thought five seconds ago. 

“What do you mean, mom?” You said, taking a step forward, what did this have to do with the cookies?

Your mom pursed her lips, hesitating for a microsecond until the words finally came out of her mouth. “You are already a woman, darling, so I wanted to know if you are… cautious.” She pronounced, making emphasis on the last word and letting it sink in the air, but you still didn’t understand what she was talking about. 

“Cautious with what?” You must've looked like a total fool, asking once again what she meant, but your mother seemed to want you to understand without having to explain. 

She shifted in her place and you saw a flash of embarrassment in her eyes, but it quickly disappeared. “With Yoongi, I mean.” She said, making the name resonate in your ears “I know you’re both adults and you can do whatever you want, but I wanted to make sure that you are using protection.”

The realization fell upon you like a ton of bricks, each word she uttered felt like a different punch to your stomach. You opened your eyes widely, almost choking with your own spit.  “What? No, mom-” You wanted to interrupt her, but she was quick to talk over you. 

“I just want to make sure!” She said like she was apologizing “I don’t mean to be invasive, but it’s important to me that you’re being safe.”

You winced, feeling your face burning as you began stuttering “Me and Yoongi…-We are not, I mean-”

“Honey,” She stopped you, looking at you like she was a sex education teacher trying to explain why you should use protection. “I was not born yesterday, I see things happening, and believe me, I have no problem with you sharing a room, but I can’t help but ask.”

You were left completely speechless, and her constant interruptions while you were trying to finish a sentence were not helping. You racked your brain to find a logical explanation, but you were incapable of forming a decent sentence when she was looking at you like she was a doctor. The fact that your mother thought that you and Yoongi were having sex made your stomach squirm, and how she stated that it was obvious left your head spinning. Did she see you today in that closet and immediately assumed you were… fucking? God, that sounded so bad, so incredibly embarrassing. You still felt yourself blushing when you thought about that moment, you couldn’t even fathom the idea of seeing him without a shirt, less alone having sex with him.

“Mom, please. You don’t have to worry, really.” You tried to explain, but that was not enough to leave your mother content, by the look on her face you knew she didn’t believe you one bit. 

“I know I don’t have to worry!” She defended herself “Yoongi is a great boy, and I trust you… But you know, if things get a bit too frisky...” 

You closed your eyes shut, trying not to picture that in your mind, “God, mom, don’t use that word!” 

“Sorry! I mean… You know what I mean! I hope you’re using protection, no matter the circumstances.” 

You took a deep breath, ninety percent sure you were about to die of embarrassment, but with your last breath you made sure to be clear with your mom so tonight she would sleep peacefully “Believe me, mom. You don’t have to worry, nothing happened between Yoongi and me, I mean it.”

You could see it in her eyes, she was not convinced, and she was right to be so. That was a lie, and she knew it. What happened today was not “nothing”, and your mother knowing that only made your cheeks burn.

“Fine.” She said, struggling to let the conversation go “But if something does happen… Be safe, okay?”

You nodded repeatedly, trying to end the conversation as soon as possible. “Yes, of course.” You promised, but the idea of that ever happening sent a chill down your spine, you tried to shake that thought as far away as you possibly could. 

Your mom smiled and you took it as your cue to go. You tried to walk away, but before you reached the door, she spoke again. 

“And darling?” She said, making you turn around to see her. “I know you don’t like coming here without your brother, so thank you for coming anyway.”

“It’s fine, mom.” You said, and it was true. “At least Yoongi made up for it.”

She smirked, suppressing a laugh. “Oh, I’m sure.”

You rolled your eyes, in disbelief. “Yup, I’m going now, goodnight!” You said, finally escaping from the conversation. You heard your mom’s laugh in the distance as you closed the door behind you to run upstairs. 

Present

When you visited Simon’s apartment for the first time you could clearly notice it was a boy’s apartment from the lack of decoration, the lack of food in the fridge and the amount of boxes still unpacked weeks after moving in, but after you entered through the door tonight you saw a completely different version of it. It was a part of him that you missed out when you were gone, now there were plants on the living room and traces of Florence all over the place, like her purple slippers on the door and the purple toothbrush on the bathroom, her scrunchies on the entryway table and the framed picture of her beside them. You found it endearing, it was like a secret world made just for the two of them, a proper home. 

“When is Florence coming back?” You asked, leaving your bag on the couch. 

Simon took off his shoes, wandering through his house as he turned all the lights on “On Monday.” He replied.

You made a mental note to leave on Monday, even if Simon repeated a thousand times that it was okay for you to stay there on the way here, you didn’t want to intrude in his life. Instead you decided it would be easier to intrude in Minnie’s life, who’s apartment was big enough for the two of you, the only person she shared her apartment with was not an actual person, it was just her orange cat. 

 “I was supposed to go with her.” Your brother kept talking “But me and Yoongi are behind on some work and I had to stay… Well, I’m the one who’s behind, really. Yoongi is just helping me.”

You did not forget that Simon and Yoongi worked together at the same law firm downtown ever since they graduated. You knew that Yoongi got the job as soon as he graduated and then he was followed by your brother, after years it was still impossible to keep them apart, which had become a problem for you. 

You nodded but didn’t say anything about it, you reasoned that Yoongi was still working before arriving at your house, that explained the clothes, the shoes and the messy hair. You sighed just by thinking about it, at least dinner was over, at least your first encounter with Yoongi after four years wasn’t the worst thing that happened tonight. 

It was impossible, but you tried not to think about it too much. Yoongi’s presence was some kind of collateral effect that came with your life, it was too late to detach him from it, but you still tried to run away from it for years and years, only to come back and still find him here, talking to you like nothing ever happened, like you were still friends. 

Yoongi and you were always on different stages of your life, on different places, on different paths, but you seemed to agree on one thing: keep everything secret, no one needed to know what happened between the two of you, that was why Simon was always talking about Yoongi when you called him, that was why he couldn’t stop talking about it him now, he didn’t realize that you didn’t want to know anything about his best friend, you could never told him why.

You followed your brother to his guest room as he talked and talked about how smart Yoongi was and how he was capable of taking so many different cases and not dying in the process, how nice it was to work with his best friend and blablabla. You swore that if you heard the name one more time you would explode, so you decided to drastically change the subject of the conversation, you were willing to say anything to take his name out of your brother’s mouth. It took a second, but when the room fell silent, you looked at your feet, a bit unsure, gathering enough courage to finally say what you’ve been meaning to tell him since you arrived home.

“I’m sorry for not telling you about the proposal.” You softly spoke, and Simon, who was looking for a blanket in the closet in the corner of the room, turned his head to look at you. “I wanted to tell you in person, but I wasn’t planning for that article to come out, I didn’t want the whole world to know.”

Simon left the blanket on the bed, turning his body to look at you more clearly. “Mom told me that you think Ian leaked the news” He mentioned, and you nodded, at the risk of looking crazy. 

“Sally suggested it.” You confirmed, sitting on the bed “And if he didn’t, he’s fine with it anyway. He doesn’t care if people see me as this bitch who broke his heart, I might as well be.” 

He looked at the wall behind you, confused. “I think I missed a chapter here.” He said, sitting on the edge of the bed “Maybe more than one. Weren’t you in love with him?”

You wanted to grab a pillow, bury your face on it and scream as loud as you could, but for the sake of looking like a sane person you contained yourself. “I thought I was.” You said sincerely. you believed there was a time when you were sure you were in love with Ian, there were moments you thought that the good things about him could outweigh the bad things, but deep down you knew that if you were really in love you wouldn’t have to do all that math, you wouldn’t have to fight to ignore his arrogance and his big ego. 

“And when did you realize that you weren’t?” He continued to ask “Or when did you realize he was a jerk?”

You scoffed, bitterly. “I guess I always knew both, I tried to make it work regardless. I enjoyed being with him for some time, but then he planned an engagement party full of people I didn’t even know. He didn’t care to call any of you and expected me to say yes… Does that say more about him or me?”

He kept quiet, not knowing what to say, but you already knew the answer. 

“Ian was an asshole, kid. He was jealous of you, of your family, of your job, none of us understood why you were with him.” 

“That was not what I asked.” You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Ian was a prick, I get it, but I wasn’t much better either.”

“You can’t make me think you deserve each other, are you kidding?” He said. 

“I can’t blame him for everything, I made my own bed.” You huffed “I was terrible and it took me almost four years to snap out of it, that was not his fault.” 

“You are right, but you’re here now, aren’t you?” He reminded you, calmly. “Isn’t that what’s important?” 

You began to become exasperated “C’mon, Simon, don’t try to be nice, you’re supposed to be mad at me.” 

“I am mad at you.” He corrected you, sending a chill down your spine “You’re working all the time, you never call, never text back, we barely see you and the only way to know about your life is when we read some article saying you broke up with your boyfriend because he proposed to you, are you kidding? Of course I am mad, but because I miss you.”

You felt a wave of regret hitting all your senses, suddenly your eyes were burning with tears and you are not supposed to cry, you knew that, but the single tear that slid down your cheek was quicker than any thought that could cross your mind. Somehow, you wished your family hadn't noticed how absent you'd been these past few years, that they just shrugged and said “that’s just her” and forgot about it, it was not necessary to look at Simon’s face to know that he couldn’t just forget about it. He loved you, your mother loved you too, you didn’t have a family that you would want to run away from, but you did it anyway,

“I’m sorry…” You murmured, looking at him with eyes full of regret. “It wasn’t you, it wasn’t any of you, it was me. I was so angry when I left, I didn’t know how to handle it.”

You wouldn’t trade your career for anything, it was one of those few things that made you happy, but after years of trying to convince yourself that every decision you made for the last few years was the right choice, this was the first time that you admitted that maybe you weren’t thinking clearly when you decided to move to the city and never look back. 

Simon frowned, thinking about it twice before asking “Were you angry, bug?”

You tilted your head, giving him a sad smile, hoping that it could explain everything.”I was quite angry, yes.” You answered “Not at you, though.” 

“At mom?” 

“Maybe a little bit at mom, yeah.” You laughed, shaking your head. You sighed deeply, letting the silence sit in the room for a moment before you could put in order all the things you wanted to say. “I remember when I told her I left college she looked at me like I finally lost my mind, it was like she saw it coming, you know? Me, again, being lost, it was not a surprise, but rather something she would expect of me. I know she was just worried and I know I can be a lot sometimes, but it hurt anyway. I don't blame anyone, Simon, but all I needed was someone to believe in me and no one did. I had to leave.” Something ached inside your chest because that was not the whole truth, but it was all you could say tonight, you couldn’t say that Yoongi was also one of the reasons. “I’m not trying to justify myself.” You mumbled “I’m just saying that I was so angry that I didn’t realize how many mistakes I made.” 

The silence that took over the room was so strong it made your stomach squirm. You shifted in your place, but Simon stayed there, with his gaze lost somewhere in the room as he processed what you just said. 

“I always believed in you, you know that?” He spoke, causing your head to snap up towards him. “I know a lot of people tried to tell you that you weren’t, but you’ve always been special and I’ve always seen it.” 

“I know you did.” You sighed. “But I was being so stubborn, I walked away and I’m so sorry.”

“I know you think you’re too much, but you’re not.” He continued talking “Maybe mom just wanted everything to be simple, for her kids to go to college, graduate, get a job and a home and never have to worry about whether they are choosing right or wrong ever again. But you’re not simple, bug, you’re extraordinary and talented and too brilliant to stay still, but you’re not too much, not for me.” 

You held back a sob, feeling ridiculous. “I’m sorry.” You said, once again, because you haven’t said it enough times.

“It’s okay now, I mean it.” Simon reached for your hand to squeeze it tightly. 

You sniffed “God, I should be comforting you for being a bad sister, not the other way around” 

“I don’t need to be comforted, I’m okay as long as you’re here.” He tried to cheer you up. “And you were not a bad sister, you were sad and acted shitty.” 

You smiled, because you told Simon that you were angry but instead he heard that you were sad, you didn’t feel like correcting him because he wasn’t so wrong about that. 

“I’m sorry.” You repeated once again like a scratched record, making him laugh. “Are you still mad at me?”

“No.” he replied, “But only if you promise not to disappear again.” 

You raised your hand, extending your pinky finger in front of his face. “I promise you, Simon, I will not disappear again.”

Simon tangled his pinky with yours, making your promise impossible to be broken, and your soul felt at ease for a moment.

“Fine, good enough for me.” he said, throwing himself back onto the bed. “Now I want to hear everything about the proposal, and I want you to describe to me exactly the face he made when you said no.”

You laughed, throwing yourself on the bed the same way he did and tried to summarize the last three years in just one night. Only for today, your body did you a favor and your head stopped spinning at least for now. Something began to feel right.

Four years ago

Seven days before New Year’s Eve

You could hear the radio at the end of the hallway in your grandmother’s room, softly playing jazz to cancel out the outside noise. Not everyone in the house liked the radio, your cousins always said that it was annoying and kept them awake, but it was still one of those old habits of your grandfather that remained in the house even if he was no longer here, so you liked it. The music inevitably seeped under the door of your room, Yoongi hummed some Frank Sinatra song as if he knew the lyrics to it, making you laugh and beg him to stop. 

You know it’s almost midnight, as your roommate just informed you, but you didn’t want to turn the lights off yet. All of the cookies already disappeared from the plate, Yoongi was laying on his side the same way you were and the lamp on the nightstand warmly lighted up his brown eyes, you couldn’t help but feel you were not supposed to be in such presence, his messy hair and the loose white shirt he wore to sleep, his sleepy eyes, his pink lips; it looked just like the kind of view that was bound to haunt you forever. 

The nightstand that separated you was not far enough to stop that pull from the string in your chest, not when he was looking at you like that, his gaze fixated on yours like he didn’t want to leave you awake alone, and neither did you. You felt yourself shaking because, what was the version of you that existed when you were asleep? And what happened inside his head when you were not there? What was happening inside his head right now?

Did you cross his mind the same way he crossed yours? When you finally fell asleep, would he remember that moment in the closet or would it be just water under the bridge? Did he spend every waking second of the last seven hours thinking of that fleeting moment when you could almost feel his lips on yours?

Or was that just you?

The night was fading away, your eyelids were getting heavy but you still couldn’t find the will to sleep. 

“I’m sorry for today.” You almost whispered, gathering enough courage to mention the little accident “I’m sorry for dragging you with me to the closet.”  

He smiled softly, closing his eyes for a second. “It’s okay, it was cozy.” He teased you, making you groan in annoyance. He laughed loudly at your reaction, annoying you even more. “I’m serious, it was okay.” 

“Was it really?” You asked him “Wasn’t I being silly?”

“It's okay being silly sometimes.” He assured you, but that did not ease that anxious feeling in your stomach. He seemed to see it in your face. “What’s wrong with being a little silly? I would’ve run from your grandmother, too.” 

You bitterly laughed, covering your face with the palms of your hands “Stop, I’m being immature.” You groaned “I’ve got to get my shit together.”

“C’mon Pinky, you have to stop with that.” He said. 

“I would if I could.” You remarked.

“Didn’t you say you were going to get your shit together after the holidays?” He reminded you “Why are you worrying right now?”

Yoongi was right, that was the initial plan, but ever since you came back home everything was pointing in different directions and it was beginning to drive you crazy, it was like the universe was forcing you to think about it, it was not letting you run away from it, not even temporarily. First, it was Yoongi, showing up every few days at your doorstep, grabbing your hand, squeezing your legs, whispering things in your ear like he wanted you to go insane, it was Minnie, offering you a job, talking about The Alley, saying you were supposed to be on the big screen, and then it was your mother, expecting you to make up your mind once for all. And still, you had your whole life ahead, why were you worrying right now?

“I don’t know…” You sighed “What if I come back next year and the plan was not good enough? What if I end up hiding again from everyone?”

Yoongi shifted in bed, curious “Do you have a plan, Pinky?” The nickname rolled off his tongue softly, you swimmed in the tenderness of his voice, something about it made you want to tell him everything.

“Not really, I mean… It all sounds so bad.” 

“You have a plan.” He affirmed, smiling “I want to hear it.”

“It’s not a plan.” You contradicted yourself “If it were a plan, it would suck.”

Yoongi hummed “It’s something like a plan, then.”

You scrunched your nose, unsure. “Yeah, but not quite like a plan, something like a…” You said, but the words died on your lips before you got the chance to finish. 

“Something like a dream, then?” He continued to ask, but you shook your head.

“Something close.” You expressed, unable to find the right words to explain your thoughts. You stayed silent for a second, believing he was beginning to lose interest in the topic, until the words slipped past his lips like a spell.

“Something like a wish.” He pronounced, and he was not asking, it was almost like he knew. 

You thought there was not much difference between a dream and a wish, but in this case, there was. 

You smiled at him, nodding, somehow you felt you could trust him with all your secrets “Yes, like a wish.” You affirmed, and it felt like a confession. “I don’t know Yoongi, have you ever stayed up late and planned something but when you woke up next morning you felt it was stupid? Well, I do that every night.”

“I’m sure that whatever it is, it’s not stupid.” He said, making your heart swell.  

“I would like to believe you…” You murmured “Do you have a dream, Yoongi? Something you’re too scared to wish for?”

You could see him think about it for a moment, but his eyes were still connected with yours. Oh, how you wished to be inside his mind right now, read his thoughts, witness his dreams, know all his secrets.

“Yes.” He confirmed, “But I can’t talk about them out loud right now.” 

You laughed, biting your bottom lip. “Okay, fair. What about those you can say out loud?”

“I’m not going to tell you because you’re going to laugh.” He pouted, making you frown. 

“Laugh?” You repeated, sounding more offended than you actually were. “I would never, c’mon.”

He raised an eyebrow, testing you “You sure?”

“Of course, don’t piss me off.” 

“Fine, fine.” He let out a long sigh, believing you. “My wish would be… to stop time for a while. Sometimes I believe I can’t think when time’s running, all I do is study and come home to my mom, there is very little time that I have for myself.”  

You felt your chest tighten, but it didn't surprise you that Yoongi felt this way. He already mentioned to you that, even if taking care of his mother didn’t feel like a burden, he still felt he was missing out on so many things. 

“And what would you do if time stopped right now?” 

Yoongi shifted his eyes for a moment, and you almost missed it but you saw it, the urge to hold back and the words getting stuck on his throat. 

“Mmm…” He hummed, “I’ll go to the beach.”

“In winter?”

“Yes, I wouldn’t care.”

“And where else?” You continued to ask.

“Honestly? I’ll go anywhere but home.” He confessed.

“What’s wrong with home?” You of all people knew exactly what was wrong with home, but you wanted to hear why he thought that. 

“Home it’s okay,” He waved off. “It just feels like I spent my whole life there. I went to college expecting something to change, and a lot of things did but I still feel like something else is supposed to happen, like there's something else for me to see.” 

It was looking in a mirror, it was the same thing you’ve told him a few days ago but in other words, in another tone. Yoongi sounded resigned, like his wish was clearly something that was not meant to happen and he needed to come to terms with it, nothing could ever make you more sad. 

“There’s plenty for you to see, Yoongi, are you kidding?” You chuckled  “You’re twenty five, you’re barely grasping life.” 

He scoffed, bitterly, “It’s not that easy.” 

“Of course it is easy, do you know it’s not necessary to stop time to go to the beach?” 

“I know, Pinky.” He agreed, “But what does it feel like running away?” 

“Running away would be so bad?” You asked, hearing the question echoing in the room, letting you know that maybe it was something you weren’t supposed to wonder out loud. Yoongi didn’t dare to ask such a question, but you seemed determined to make his wish come true, maybe you were the only one who could do it. 

“Don’t ask me.” He said, looking at the ceiling to avoid your gaze.  “Don’t act like running away isn’t your wish as well” 

You snorted, immediately grabbing a pillow and threatening to punch him in the face with it, but Yoongi is quick to cover his face with his arms.

“Don’t!” He protested, laughing.

 “Don’t expose me like that!” You whined, embarrassed. 

“What, am I wrong?” 

“Maybe you’re not…” You dared to answer, leaving the pillow on the bed again “But how do you know?”

“I told you, Pinky.” He murmured “I just know.”

You shook your head in denial, how could it be? Were you really that transparent or Yoongi really just knew? 

“What else do you know?” You continued to ask, curious. 

He pretended to think about it, pouting his lips and looking at the ceiling as if the answers were to fall from the sky. His eyes shifted towards yours, tilting his head “I know that you would run away to the beach with me if I asked you to.” 

A giggle was built in your throat, you laughed nervously as you tried to decipher if he was joking or not, even if Yoongi could see right through you, it was a bit difficult for you to do the same with him. 

“I don’t know about that.” You said, ignoring the way your heart was beating against your ribcage. “Do you mean in… an hypothetical scenario?” 

“It’s a hypothetical proposal.” He answered.

“I’ll have to check my schedule first.” 

A smirk tugged from the corner of his lips. “What about… two weeks away from now?”

You did the calculation in your head, but you already knew that by then Yoongi would have to go back to class, so you doubted. “What about the semester?” You asked, trying to be the voice of reason. “Your last semester, might I add.”

“That could wait.” He did not hesitate “Isn’t it part of running away? Leaving things behind?”

You laughed “And what would people say about me, then? That I made you leave college, nuh-hu.” 

“Here we go again with that.” He rolled his eyes “I don’t care what people say and, besides, I’m not leaving college, I’m… postponing it.” 

That didn’t sound like the Yoongi you knew at all, but then again, this whole conversation didn’t sound like anything Yoongi from the past would say. A thousand questions crossed your mind, like what do you do on the beach in winter? Wouldn’t being alone be a problem? What are you going to talk about, where are you going to stay? If you say yes, would he grab your hand when you crossed the street, would he try to kiss you again? 

You crossed your arms, thinking about it, not daring to agree right away, but how could you say no? When he was looking at you, convinced that you would say yes. 

You opened your mouth, not sure what you were going to say but still ready to answer, and before you could utter a word, he interrupted you. “Run away with me to the beach, Pinky.” He asked in a soft tone, looking at you with warm eyes and warm words, making your heart shake violently in your chest “Only for now, I promise I’ll make it worth it.”

You smiled, ignoring that little person inside you that tried to warn you about something, but you weren’t sure about what because all you could feel was your heart racing. “Fine, I’ll follow you for now.” You simply said, trying to sound as cool as possible “Let’s run.” 

In that moment you forgot about years and years of disappointment and failed dreams, failed wishes, you ignored the reality, deciding everything was false and true at the same time. You didn’t need to look at the clock to know that it was midnight, something inside your chest sparkled and told you it was time to make your wish, and for some reason, you listened. It echoed in every corner of your mind, your wish was the beach in winter. 

Four days before New Year’s Eve

Two weeks ago, when you bought Yoongi’s Christmas gift, you thought about it like a farewell. You stood in the shop and talked to the tall man with the long face and chose the gift as you tried to convince yourself this was a way of saying goodbye to him. 

That Christmas morning Yoongi tore the brown wrapping paper and opened the long box to find that you decided to give him a red tie. It wasn’t bright red, it was deep dark red, red like a rose. It came with a notebook and a pen with his initials on them. In your mind, you were giving away that version of him that lived in your head and clung to your thoughts and clung to your heart, that version of him you could never let go. Yoongi was about to graduate, he was about to become officially a lawyer, an adult, a man, he wasn’t that boy you fell in love with years ago, he was a wish you had to let in the past and your gift was just a way to remind you of it. You had a purpose, a plan, you had everything figured out until he decided to ask you to run away with him, until you said yes.

His gifts for you were a vinyl copy of Is This It by The Strokes, two tickets to watch When Harry Met Sally at the Alley the following week and a pair of red gloves for the rest of the winter. 

Yoongi looked at you and smiled like you both knew something everyone else in the room didn’t. “The gloves match with the tie.” He had said.

So now you had no plan, what you did have though, was a bunch of pictures of several locations Yoongi thought of booking for your trip to the beach. You were doomed. 

You thought the only person in this town who could possibly understand what you were going through was Minnie, the only person in the world who knew about your feelings for Yoongi, and the only person who you could call a friend at the moment. 

You weren’t expecting to see Minnie again when you saw her at The Alley a few weeks ago, but she had different plans; it was like she forced you to be her friend again. You tried to stop thinking you didn’t deserve it, you had to swallow your guilt and accept her friendship, and after a few five hour calls filled with gossip, you ultimately decided not to be against it, even if she called you everyday and still talked nonstop about that audition in the city, talking with her felt like you were still fifteen, and you liked it.

That night, as she raided her closet looking for a dress for you to wear at the New Year’s party at The Alley, you sat on her bed and gave her a run down of everything that happened with Yoongi since you came back home, it didn’t take her much to get you to admit that you were still in love with your brother’s best friend, so you might as well be honest and tell her everything. 

“You’re being stupid right now, sweetheart.” You heard her muffled voice from inside her closet. The next thing you saw was a piece of fabric flying in the air and landing at your feet. You grabbed it, putting in front of you to reveal a short pink dress that you would never, ever wear. 

You snorted, leaving the dress on the pile of clothes that you already rejected. You seemed to forget that Minnie was not the most adequate person to talk about “boy stuff”, perhaps because she was way too honest. You didn’t know whether it was a mistake or not to tell her about the trip to the beach, because all the questions she was asking and all the things she was stating to be true were thoughts you were desperately trying to avoid. 

“He wants to fuck you, I don’t know how else to tell you this.” She said, walking over the clothes to make her way to you. You threw yourself on the bed, covering your face with your palms “I mean, I wish I could only tell you that he’s head over heels for you, and honey, that he is, but he also wants to fuck you.”

You groaned, kicking your feet. “God, you make me want to throw up.”

“Of excitement, I’m assuming.” She affirmed “I’m telling you, there’s no way you’re going on a trip alone and come back without having fucked.”

You looked at her, begging her to stop talking, but she was not finished. “Stop!”

“Picture this.” She ignored you, forming a rectangle with her fingers and looking right through it as if she was directing a scene from a movie “First scenario, a storm causes the power to go out, there’s no electricity, you have no way to be warm so you sleep in the same bed to warm up, there’s tension, you look at each other and kiss, you fuck.”

“Okay, I don’t see that happening.” You shook your head. 

“Second scenario, you just finished showering, you go out of the bathroom wearing only a towel because you think he’s not there, but he is! He sees you, you kiss, you fuck.”

“That’s not��� That sounds like porn.” 

“Third scenario!” She exclaimed. 

“Fine, that’s enough.” You stopped her, waving your arms in the air. 

“No, you have to prepare! And when it happens you will know that I was right.” Your friend insisted, but you refused to let any of those ideas in your mind. 

“What if you’re not?” You wondered “What if he just wants to be my friend and I’m just imagining everything?”

“But you are not, are you kidding?” She laughed “That man is clearly in love with you, why are you convincing yourself otherwise?”

You felt Minnie’s body sitting right next to you, causing you to sit back on the bed to look at her face to face. You were sure you were about to start crying out of frustration. “I don’t know, what if I get hurt?”

Minnie pursed her lips “Baby, I can’t answer that question at all, but you have to take the chance.” 

You groaned, annoyed. “I don’t want to take the chance.” You whined “I was fine before seeing him again, I wasn’t even thinking of him.”

“That is a lie,” She laughed, mocking you. “We both know you never stopped being in love with him, now you have him in the palm of your hand, do something.” 

Minnie stood up again, looking for another piece of clothing on the floor as you kept silent, wondering if any of that could be possible. Did you really have him in the palm of your hand? Was he in love with you and you were being stupid for believing that he wanted to be just friends?

“What should I do?” You asked her, hoping that the redhead in the room knew all the secrets of the universe. 

“Invite him to the New Year’s party and wear a hot outfit, how about that?” Minnie offered, like that could answer all your prayers. 

“Would that resolve all my problems?” You joked, talking to the sky. 

“C’mon, he literally asked you to run away with him, don’t you find that a little bit hot? Don’t you really think that was not code for ‘I want to fuck you’?” 

You laughed “Yoongi is not like that!” You protested. 

“I hate to break it to you, but you are hot.” She insisted, throwing another piece of clothing at your face. “And if Yoongi is not blind, he knows that, and let’s not forget the most important fact here.” 

“Which is…?”

“He’s in love with you, let’s start wrapping our heads around that.” She simply said “Once that’s done, you invite him to the New Year’s eve party at The Alley, you wear a hot outfit and confront him about it, tell him to stop playing around.”

You grabbed the dress Minnie just threw at you, which was another short dress, but this one was actually cute. It was black and was covered in black sparkly sequins with thin straps, you were definitely going to freeze to death if you wore that, but you were sure this fitted the description of “hot outfit”. 

Minnie was right, you couldn’t keep running away from the facts, everything was laid on the table, you didn’t need more proof to know that Yoongi felt something for you, even if you weren’t sure if it was the same that you felt for him, you needed to gather enough courage to find out what it was. 

You grabbed the phone in your pocket and opened Yoongi’s chat, you decided to invite him to the New Year’s party. 

taglist: @kingofbodyrolls @overtherainbow35 @namin13 @p34rluv @moonchild1 @yoongisoftface @namgihours @idkjustlovingbts @yoongisducky @bangtansmauyeondan @tarahardcore @wobblewobble822 @secfir @ot72025 @baechugff @heroinanne @mortal-body-timelesssoul @hiii-priestess @wii-wii @jungkookies1002 @busanbby-jjk @acquiescence804 @yoongibaybee @hsbongwater

[nausicaaandhermouth]

Quandary & Retribution in F#

masterlist

professor!viktor x violinist!reader [6k] [AO3]

mdni

cw: nsfw, blow-job, piano witnessing oral sex i'm so sorry

summary: being neighbours mean being mindful of the noise you make - though, you'd been set on being a nuisance through violin solos, bringing Viktor to your doorstep to plead for silence. You decide to apologise.

tags: modern au, physics professor viktor, gn!reader, neighbours, nsfw, sexual tension, suggestive physics & music talk, blow job, fat set up beforehand, not betad

a/n never written comedy nor smut but at some point a girl's gotta try (why are both almost equally difficult) - but here ya go (plops down this mess). also, i'm more familiar w music than physics, i 3rd page googled the latter so there's def smth not quite right. if u know physics, no u dont.

and ty to an anon ask for pointing out a mistake in the pronouns. i intend one shots to be gn but i write back and forth from an f!oc fic, resulting in she/her ending up in one shots and they/them on the other :')) entirely on me for not catching those before posting though - but thank you for notifying me, i appreciate you!!

btw requests & taglist are open!

Viktor had repeated it ad nauseam—keep the overtures to a minimum.

His days are a gruelling marathon of lectures and lab work, stretching from the crack of dawn at 6 AM to the academy's closing bell at 10 PM. This self-imposed siege isn't mandated by the university—no, they frown upon such academic masochism.

Rather, it’s Viktor's desperate attempt to squeeze productivity from the fleeting moments of silence. The irony? The moment he shuffles home, key turning in the lock, his apartment transforms into an impromptu concert hall.

Attempting to grade papers? Constructing intricate lesson plans on quantum mechanics? Preparing for the department's annual "Explain Your Research to a Five-Year-Old" challenge? Hah. Another pipe dream of this beleaguered professor.

No, instead, he’s treated to a violin solo that would make Paganini nod approvingly in his grave, some overture to madness waiting to ambush Viktor the instant he dares to sit down and tackle his workload. And the cherry on top? The virtuoso had chosen the room directly behind his study as their personal rehearsal space.

Tonight, Viktor's reaching his breaking point.

One more pluck of that violin string, and he might just snap (hopefully with more panache than his freshman physics students' failed bridge-building projects).

He's hunched over his laptop, a harsh '02:24' glowing on his wall—a neon reminder of how little he's accomplished in far too many hours. And there it is again, that infernal violin leaping across frets, notes ping-ponging between octaves with reckless abandon.

This time, it feels personal. A taunt aimed squarely at his last shred of sanity.

Viktor's fingers rake through his dishevelled hair, tugging in sheer frustration. His other hand thunders against the wall—once, twice, thrice. Stop. Stop. Stop.

For a blissful moment, the last note wavers, then fades.

Silence descends. Relief washes over him.

But his reprieve is short-lived. The melody resumes with a vengeance—louder, closer, more petulant and frenetic. It's as if the laws of acoustics themselves have conspired against him.

God, if you’re there…

Viktor can feel his grip on rationality slipping. Perhaps it's time to conduct an experiment on the effects of sleep deprivation on a physicist's patience. For science.

Your paths had crossed in the hallways, a silent slide of avoidance. You’d exchanged fleeting glances, loaded with unspoken frustration, before hurrying on your separate ways.

Viktor had made the pilgrimage to your door three times, his voice dripping with forced politeness as he implored (bordering begging, not his finest moment) you to relocate your impromptu concerts or, at the very least, reschedule your sonic assaults to more reasonable hours.

You’d exchanged names, plastered on smiles that never reached their eyes—and yet, your solos persist.

In moments of weakness, Viktor's traitorous mind can't help but wonder what camaraderie you might have shared in an alternate universe where you weren’t the bane of his existence.

He finds himself muttering a desperate prayer to the gods of acoustics: "Grant me the strength not to bash my head against this wall." He pauses, another side of his brain kicking in. "Although, the resulting concussion might make for an interesting case study."

A groan escapes him as his forehead meets the desk with a dull thump. (Might you want percussions, he could supply his head banging against his desk)

His mind, addled by sleep deprivation and the constant assault, contemplates the unthinkable—actually standing up for himself. God forbid.

He envisions marching to your door, pride in tatters, ready to beg, plead, perhaps even grovel for a moment's peace.

The image of his students receiving paper feedback that reads like the ravings of a madman flashes before his eyes. No. Nope. This cannot stand. Something must be done.

Then another image invades his mind: your door opens and there you are face to face once again.

He grudgingly admits you’re… aesthetically agreeable. He supposes. Mathematically pleasing. Something about proportion, bone structure, genes, something, something, and—no, there is an undeniable artistry in your relentless dedication. Which he respects.

Even through the wall, he can discern the masterful control of your bow, a testament to hours of practice that simultaneously impresses and infuriates him.

If he could be granted such hours to achieve his own goals, he'd surely rule the world (or at least figure out how to soundproof his apartment).

There'd been one night—one treacherous, sleep-deprived night—when his exhausted mind careened off the rails of rationality into dangerously uncharted territory.

He envisioned himself barging into your apartment, a perfect storm of righteous fury and academic gravity. In this fever dream, he demanded silence with an authority cobbled together from an unlikely triumvirate: his stern Professor alter-ego (complete with imaginary tweed jacket), the ego-inflating gravitas of his hard-earned Ph.D., and the bizarrely suave confidence that only exists in the realm of 3 AM delusions.

But in this warped fantasy, instead of blessed quiet, he encountered something far, far worse—a scenario that defied even the uncertainty principle in its improbability.

Sharp gasps cut through the air. Delicate moans rolling against the nape of his neck that it sent shivers down his spine. And then—oh, sweet laws of thermodynamics—his name. His name in repetition, wearing the throes of... No. Stop. Abort mission.

Viktor's eyes snap open. Heavy breaths. His heart rate approaches escape velocity, threatening to launch his ribcage into orbit.

He shakes his head violently as if the motion could dislodge the inappropriate thoughts from his brain.

"Fuck off," he mutters to the empty room, to his unfaithful imagination, to the persistent violin notes that seem to mock his predicament. Fuck it all. And fuck you. Well… No—(he means yes (no)).

A few times since your initial encounter, Viktor had been subjected to a different kind of midnight sound through the walls. These weren't the familiar strains of a violin, but rather... a more primal composition. Something more akin to pleasure than anything Stradivarius could have conceived. 

The truth was, these… vocalisations had rearranged his synapses, had opened up an entirely new neural pathway in his brain, one he had staunchly refused to acknowledge before. It was a new theorem of attra—intrigue he wasn't quite ready to solve.

Each breath, groan muffled, was a data point on his imaginary graph. To study the patterns, the crescendos, the duration. The other man in him... well, that was a variable he dared not allow to factor into the equation.

He found himself both dreading and anticipating these unintentional (at least he surmised so) performances. He'd catch himself straining to hear, then immediately feel a rush of guilt and self-loathing.

He reaches for his coffee mug, grimacing as he swallows the cold, bitter dregs. Clearly, this is what happens when a brilliant mind is deprived of its required REM cycles. Yes, that's it. Just the cruel tricks of an overworked, under-rested brain. Exactly.

His mind kicks into overdrive, frantically scribbling a mental grant proposal: "The Effects of Sleep Deprivation on Auditory Hallucinations and Improbable Fantasies: A Case Study." Purely for academic purposes, of course. (his mind lingers on improbable)

It's not like he's terrified these forbidden thoughts might return, more vivid and enticing than a perfectly aligned experiment. And it's certainly not because he's afraid he might enjoy—no, no, no. He minds. He minds with the intensity of a supernova. 100%. No, make that 100.1%, just to be safe. Exactly. Precisely. Quantum-mechanically determined.

Now, if only he could convince his subconscious of that irrefutable fact…

His eyes dart to the wall—that infuriating barrier of plaster and wood—separating him from the object of his des... deliberation. No, that's not right. The source of his frustration. Yes, frustration. A frustration so profound it could light up a small city.

He groans, burying his face in his hands.

The things sleep deprivation does to a man. It's enough to make even a rational physicist question the very fabric of reality.

But admiration be fucking damned—his frustration reigns supreme.

Viktor straightens up, a manic glint in his eye. Perhaps it's time for a little experiment in human behaviour. After all, every action has an equal and opposite reaction, right? Let's see how you’d like a taste of your own medicine—played back at 3 AM through a wall of subwoofers tuned to the resonant frequency of your floorboards.

No, no—Viktor, don't stoop. Just knock on their door.

A grin spreads across your face when a comically polite knock interrupts your crescendo. Ah, the sweet sound of success—or is it the dulcet tones of a professor’s patience snapping?

Oh, he's ever so gentle, even when he's one decibel away from a meltdown. You can practically hear his teeth grinding in perfect harmony with your last note.

You settle your violin and bow on the couch like a general laying down arms after a victorious battle. One palm reaches to massage your jaw, soothing the tender spot where your instrument has been resting. Who knew revenge could leave such visible marks?

Note to self: next time, consider a less physically demanding form of payback. Maybe take up the theremin? Start haunting him.

Though you're getting the creeping suspicion he doesn't know what he did—and it's entirely plausible that you just look like a nocturnal nuisance with perfect pitch and an impressive bruise. But hey, what's a little psychological warfare between neighbours?

Besides, it's fun crossing him in the halls, eyes following each other like two notes slowly coming in accordance, like a particularly flirtatious harmony. You're both knowing, sharing a secret thing. Well, as secret as a loud violin solo at 2 AM.

You reach the front door and turn the lock, swinging it open with a dramatic flair.

Leaning on the frame, you plaster on a grin that could outshine the brightest spotlight—and is sure to make the dear professor's blood pressure skyrocket. "Viktor," you greet, your voice a perfect pizzicato of feigned innocence.

As expected, he's the very picture of academic despair: dark under-eyes that could rival a raccoon's, hair ruffled in a way that screams ‘Sleep? What sleep?' (who knew sleep deprivation could be so becoming?), and a brow so furrowed it could host its own mountain range.

Huh. Interesting. Seems like the composed professor facade has taken an unexpected intermission.

You force yourself to keep your eyes on Viktor's face, resisting the urge to conduct a full-body visual scan. Tonight, you're oppositions. Stubborn ostinato. O-ppo-si-tions.

Oppositions don't ogle each other's physiques or linger on sartorial choices. That would be absurd, a complete discord in your carefully orchestrated revenge. Which is why you don’t see that he’s wearing a thin tank top, and why your eyes don’t hopscotch across the vague outlines of his chest.

Viktor grumbles your name with a frown, his accent turning the syllables into something between a growl and a plea. It's music to your ears, really—a different kind of melody, but no less satisfying than your midnight sonatas.

You wonder what else he could do with that voice. No—you don’t wonder. O-ppo-si-tions don’t wonder.

Rather, you flatten your lips, desperately trying to hold back a laugh that threatens to escape.

"Please," he breathes, the word carrying the weight of a thousand sleepless nights.

You cock a brow. "Please?"

He glares, his eyes boring into you with the intensity of a conductor silencing a wayward orchestra. Not finding me funny, you note mentally.

Well, tough crowd. But then again, you didn't take up the violin for the standing ovations, did you?

"How can I help you, Professor?" You smile sweetly, crossing your legs. "You're looking positively... nocturnal," Your eyes dance over his dishevelled appearance, drinking in every delicious detail.

You know that he knows that you know what you're doing. It's a duet of mutual awareness—simple, really—and satisfying.

He squeezes his amber eyes shut, his mouth a taut line of frustration. You half expect his hair to stand on end. Orchestra on their heels after a baton’s click-click-click.

That little mole above his mouth twitches, and you imagine it as a staccato note. There's a twin on his right cheek. You wonder, idly, if they'd dance a jig if you played just the right jaunty tune.

"Why," he begins, his voice a crescendo of exhaustion, "Are you doing this? I can't keep my head in tune with you behind that wall, turning my brain into jelly with your... your..." he gestures wildly at your apartment, as if trying to conduct your imaginary orchestra into silence.

"Oh? And what's wrong with exploring some alternative fingerings now and then?"

His eyes lock onto yours, widening slightly. He blinks, frozen—a maestro who's just realised he's forgotten his baton.

Ah. Are there actual discordant thoughts lurking in that brilliant mind of his?

What's a little push? You lean forward. "Care to demonstrate these unconventional techniques of yours?"

A gulp rides down Viktor's throat. A nervous glissando. A viola quivering. His eyes suddenly find your front door fascinating. "Look, I just want to be able to do my work, finish what needs to be finished, and get some actual sleep. Aren't you tired of this too?"

Your mouth pitches downwards in mock contemplation. "Mm... I get plenty of sleep in the day. Unemployment generally gives you a lot of time. Besides, payback is payback. This is simply the retribu—"

"Payback?" His face contorts into a mask of confusion that would make Picasso proud. Ah. So the maestro doesn't know his own composition. Tsk.

You straighten yourself, arms still crossed sternly. "You—" you sigh, brows pulling together.

"What," he huffs, clearly lost. His mouth slightly gapes open, eyes glancing to the side as if somehow the answer will appear.

lLast month. Seven PM. You're home with what I assume were your students," you gesture at his door. "Don't know what you were doing, none of my business. However, it does become my business when they stay over until four," you hold up four fingers at his face like a metronome gone mad, and he backs away. “In. The. Morning. You try sleeping with rowdy, hormonal young-adults screeching about the universe and quantum-this, quantum-that,"

He brings his hand up and rubs at his neck, looking everywhere but you.

"And I, not having slept in god knows how long at that point, had an audition for an orchestra later that morning," at this point his expression is completely soured, realising where this is leading. "And guess who bombed that and missed a potential orchestral debut?" you point at yourself with both thumbs, "First chair of the Insomniacs Anonymous Symphony,"

He brings his thumb and pointer to the bridge of his nose, worrying at his bottom lip.

You can recall a few times you’d burrowed your teeth in such a manner. Recitals. A particularly tricky passage in a Paganini caprice. On your couch with hand at the crux of your thighs rubbing gently to some fantasy. Nothing specific.

You stare for a moment, mentally composing a scream for the cosmos. How dare he look like a dishevelled maestro when you're trying to channel your inner fury? Not the time, brain. Not. The. Time. File that image away for later...

“I..." he begins, but the words seem to have gone on strike, leaving his mouth hanging open. Forgotten fermata.

A furrow grows on your brow, deep enough to nest a whole string section. His guilt-ridden silence gives you ample time to become distracted. Truly not the fucking time. But your eyes—oh, what rebellious instruments.

But fret not (hah), as you don’t discern much of his arms—not lean, nor precise. Not those fingers either, no. They’re not that long. You didn’t even notice. And not the slow rise and fall of his chest, rhythmic as a metronome in a world where time has suddenly become very, very interesting.

He says your name—it’s a baton raising in the air—and it wrangles your attention. “I truly... I apologise. I do admit... that night was foolish. I'd lost control of my class. I'd invited a few over since they wanted a discussion on quantum entanglement,"

Yeah, I know entanglements. What.

Your brain performs an emergency shutdown and reboot. “Uh-huh," you manage, trying to sound like you absolutely know what that means and aren't at all imagining him demonstrating the finer points of entanglement. Because you aren’t. O-ppo-si-tions.

You shake your head, imagining your thoughts like shaking a tambourine. Focus. Revenge. Missed opportunity. Right. But why does righteous indignation have to be so hard when he's standing there looking like Einstein's hotter, sleep-deprived cousin?

“And the discussion just… I wasn’t careful with the time,” he leans forward, mouth downwards in apology. His fingers tap on his cane, mouth sucking on one side of his bottom lip.

He looks miserable. And worse, genuine. Two things that never sit right with you when they happen at the same time. A string just slightly off tune that it settles as unease in your stomach. It gives you the itch to fine-tune it, put it back how it should be.

You give Viktor a resolute nod, blinking away. “I accept your apology,” you say shortly, gaze lounging on the hallway and making sure they don’t linger on his misery.

But he searches for you eyes first, and by obligation you look back. “And have you, has there been any opportunities after then?” he asks, leaning forward, brows tilted in genuine, apologetic curiosity (your heart decides it’s now a great time to perform an accelerando. 95 bpm, if you’re counting). “Auditions and… orchestral… things? Sorry, I’m not too knowledgeable on these,”

What’s good: he’s genuinely apologetic, which may herald the end of your musical tyranny.

You lean your head backwards, aware of the distance (What’s not good: he seems unaware of the distance he’d taken up). “Uh, no. Well,” you shrug, shoulders bobbing in reminder. “Not since then. But there’s one next week. Piltover Grande Hall,”

His brows raise, seemingly in recognition. “Oh? Highly-esteemed,”

“I know. I’ll probably need a good sleep before then,” you grin, watching his face go from confusion, to apologetic, to relief in mere seconds.

“I also… I assigned some heavy research work last week to my class, which’ll be submitted tomorrow, so I’ll be grading those next week,” he added, now fully leaning on your door frame as if his upper body were trying to slink inside slowly. “We’ll both need much rest before then,”

Your eyes meet his. Face fully facing face. “Mhm,”

Prelude: “An observation of observation of observation”. String section, sweet, curious, and swelling with playful remarks. Interrupted by staccato heartbeats, conflicted by seductive cello whines.

You don’t move. Not an increment. You stay as still as your body allows, suspended in time. So does he. His eyes flicker between your left and right, expressing nothing but obvious observation of you. Your stomach breeds a butterfly when you catch his gaze dropping briefly to your mouth before flicking back to your eyes.

Interesting.

100 bpm.

No. I, “Where The Gaze Lands Will Determine The Night’s Fate”. A languid 4/4. A lone marimba begins—blithe. The chirp of a güiro.

“And what do you propose?” you tilt your head up. Are you challenging him? Depends, you suppose. Depends if he tilts his face down.

But he stays in position. Instead, brings a hand out, palm open. “A truce,” his breath brushes against your chin. Hot. Temperaturally. Temperamentally.

Does he know what he’s doing to you? There are desperate sax whines in your head. Supposedly they sound similar to the human voice.

You take his hand and shake firmly. But you don’t let go. “What are the terms?”

A soft huff of a laugh escapes him, eyes slightly narrowing. “But you’ve already agreed,” his fingers tighten slightly around your hand. Warm. Long.

“Confident in the final piece,” you assert, letting your eyes drape with leisure between his eyes and to the bone of his cheek, the mole, the mouth. And you hope he notices.

The sax is breathy. It’s now a smoky jazz riff, painting dimly lit rooms, whisperings of sweet-nothings, a daring foot hiking up another’s thigh.

Your travelling eyes seem to catch his breath.

No. II: “Where Silence Is Relative”. Strutting 2/4, beginning with a sultry glide of an accordion. A conversation between the cellos and violins.

“Does that mean you’ll rest your little concertos?” his head tilts. “Giving me peace, finally?”

You play up a pout. “Shame, I thought you were a fan,”

“As I am of quantum tunnelling through a brick wall,” he responds, the brief questioning curve of his brow indicating this was not a good thing.

“Surely my playing isn’t that bad?” a smirk.

“Not the quality, no,” he gives a small shake. His thumb softly brushes your hand. “It’s the quantity. And the timing,”

You soften your fingers, letting the tips of them brush at his wrist. “I was trying to be helpful. Heard scientists appreciated background music while working,”

A glint of something playful in his eyes. “We do. Just not at 3AM when we’re trying to grade important papers,”

“Grading?” you quirk your brow and smile. At this point, it’s far from grating to him—he’s even looking at it. “I thought silence was overrated in the pursuit of knowledge,”

“Silence is relative when you’re next door,” he gives back. His hand is now shameless, inching your closer and closer to your wrist.

You wet your lips and hum. “Relative, right. Like, whose is that—like Einstein’s?”

“Like the relative pitch of a jackhammer compared to your violin,” his expression flattens sardonically, still maintaining that disarming smile.

“I’m touched,” you lean your head on the door frame. “You think I’m as powerful?”

“Enough to redefine my understanding of ‘noise cancellation’,” he retorts, eyes rolling. What a pretty expression that is. You wonder how else you can evoke that same reaction in other contexts.

“If you ever want a demonstration…”

He laughs. “I think I’ll stick to my textbooks. Much quieter,”

You feign a mask of disappointment, gaze sharpening and hooking his eyes in for your next few words. “Pity. I was hoping to show you how good I am with my fingers,”

His mouth parts. Surprise? Temptation? But he’s hooked in and it’s all you care for. “I… uh,” he blinks, hand still around your wrist. “That’s…”

His face fills with a slight impassive contemplation, thoughts seeming to run amuck in his head as he looks down at your growing, teasing smile.

“You’ve been hearing me practise, no?” you smirk. And you can tell he knows that you know that he knows what you mean. “The violin’s not an easy instrument. Unless you’re thinking of something e—”

He diminishes the space between you with his lips on yours.

No. III, “A Swing in A#”. 113 bpm. A confident, gritty trumpet reels you in.

The door shuts and is immediately faced by Viktor’s back. His neck bends to accommodate the difference in height, his free hand at the back of your neck to press you closer to himself. Your hands find purchase around his shirt, curling around the fabric, pulling and pulling—but as he’s leaning, only his hips jut forward. Good enough.

Your mouths move in tandem. He’s occupied with your bottom lip in a sort of desperation that speaks of practise—or at least imagined practise.

You nudge upwards, hip bone meeting his in soft collision, which coaxes a filthy, back-of-the-throat grunt from him. You smile. And as you feel his other hand snake around your waist, you hear the metallic thnk of his cane against the floor.

You jerk away to look down at it. Briefly, you assess its importance and his dependence on it. “Your leg,” you breathe, breath barely allowing your real voice to pierce through.

He’s nuzzling at the side of your face, gaping mouth at your cheek as he catches some air. “I’ll manage,”

When you turn to him, your heart jumps at the sight of him. Dishevelment caused by your hands, a slight flush from arousal, eyes rounded and trained on your mouth. You don’t look but can’t help noticing the hardness pressed against your lower belly.

“It doesn’t hurt?” you ask.

He shakes his head and finally draws his eyes back to yours. “A… discomfort. But not pain,” he dips in for a kiss, hand sliding up to tilt your jaw towards him.

A smirk becomes of you. “Mm… about the, uh… retribution. I do admit, I took it too far,”

His eyes widen in mock surprise. “Did you? All those unproductive nights, I truly didn’t notice,”

You roll your eyes at his quip. “But I was thinking of how to properly apologise,”

He quirks a brow, thumb tracing at the border of your lip and chin. “And how will you show your remorse?”

“Ah, well, I’m just like you,” a soft laugh escapes you, and you lean towards him to hide the slight embarrassment rushing to blush your cheeks. “Thinking all about… entanglements,”

“Do, please, demonstrate your version,” his accent noticeably makes ‘demonstrate’ even sharper and more pronounced.

“Only if you talk about yours,”

With a swift kiss, you silence him, lips capturing his words. Your hands grip his body, gently guiding him away from the door. Viktor's eyes, intense and unwavering, remain locked on you as you lead him a few feet to the side to the upright piano.

In one smooth motion, your foot hooks around the piano bench, sliding it out. Your hands, warm and certain, travel up to Viktor's shoulders, guiding him down onto the seat with a gentle and firm pressure. His gaze never falters.

For a breathless moment, you tower over him, drinking in the sight of him. He's even more deliciously undone—hair tousled, shirt askew, lips slightly parted.

The room seems to shrink, the world narrowing to just the two of you. You're minutely aware of every shallow breath, every subtle shift of his body, each time the muscles in his neck form a 'v'.

Something all-consuming takes root in your core, to hear his voice wearing your name—not just spoken, but gasped, moaned, worshipped.

“So?” you prompt. “Begin,”

No. IV, “Viktor’s Recitative”. An accented voice searching for focus. Punctuated by gasps.

“It’s, ehm, quantum entanglement. Imagine two dancers, perfectly in sync no matter how far apart they are. When particles become entangled, they share a quantum state. If you measu—”

With your leg you push his knees apart.

“Uh, if you measure one, you instantly know about the other. As if… as if connected by an invisible thread of… mm, cosmic intimacy,”

You kneel slowly, gaze locked onto his as he searches for his next words. “Rather romantic,” you add.

He swallows. And you take it as a suggestion.

“I think so, too. Two particles, forever intertwined,” his eyes fall to your hand as you palmed one knee, your head resting on his other leg. “Fates… linked across the, the vast…ness of space and t—time,” he jerks forward as your hand pressed a little too near his centre.

The sound makes your breath hitch. More. Your cheek’s brushing against the cotton of his pants, your other hand cradling around his calf. The hand on his knee roams further upwards, thumb applying more pressure on the ins of his thigh.

“Regardless of distance, still they influence each other in ways we can’t f—” he breaks off with a whine as your palm grazes the growing swell beneath his pants. It takes every ounce of self-control not to grasp him fully, to feel the entirety of him at once. “Fully…” his eyes follow where you press harder, your mouth curving into a smile. “Comprehend,” the word falls with more breath.

He leans back against the piano, elbows weighing down keys and sending a jarring, discordant chord alongside his sighs.

You straighten, bringing your other hand to the knot of his waistband. Your finger hooks onto it, thumb caressing the single button. Your gaze travels upward, admiring the sight of him leaning back, his shirt riding up to reveal a tantalising glimpse of hair trailing downward.

His breathing slows, becoming deep and measured as your finger grazes the skin of his stomach, the fine hairs tickling knuckles. For a moment, you imagine yourself above him, watching him squirm as his eyes fixate on the point where your bodies would join. Another day.

With a deft movement, you pop the button free. Leaning in, you catch your lower lip between your teeth as your hands gently guide him from the confines of his boxers.

His form arches slightly to one side, living sculpture of desire. Delicate ridges trace his length, and at the apex, his glans gleams like a ripe cherry. Tempting fruit begging to be tasted.

Deep, methodical breaths, you remind yourself. Deep and methodical. And oh so deep. You wrench your thoughts from this enticing path, lifting gaze to meet his. Your eyes seek permission, finding his half-lidded stare heavy with want.

Your palm, warm and inviting, glides along his length with exquisite slowness. The motion elicits a shudder that ripples through his hips, a breath catching in his throat like a trapped butterfly. His head falls back, unveiling the elegant lines of his neck.

Emboldened, you repeat the caress, this time allowing your grip to ascend until it reaches the pinnacle. There, with deliberate tenderness, you gather the pre-cum with a slight swipe. The touch brings a cluster of stuttered gasps and half-formed words. His body, as if magnetised, curls towards you, hands grasping the edges of the bench, white-knuckled, anchoring himself.

Your name escapes his lips in a plaintive groan, lust renewing his voice with a gravelly quality.

Responding to his unspoken plea, you stretch upward, capturing his mouth with yours. A reward. A prelude. Your lips, soft yet insistent, trail a path down to his chin, then along the sharp line of his jaw. He tilts his head back, an offering, granting you unimpeded access to the column of his neck. You accept the invitation eagerly, pressing a kiss to his bobbing Adam's apple, and leaving a trail of lilac.

Your hand torments him with a slow ride down, grip tightening incrementally with each kiss. But there's a yearning for more, craving something more substantial. Not that this isn't intoxicating—the pulsing in your core is evidence enough.

The moment a more desperate whine unfurls from his lips, a ribbon of pure need, drawing you in. It's the tipping point. As if thanking him for the sinful sound, your lips abandon the canvas of his neck, attention now wholly focused on his full, flushed hardness.

You level with the sight of his arousal, standing eager, tip glistening. Your breath ghosts over his sensitive skin, eliciting a shudder that courses through his entire body. You hear the complaint of squeezed leather beneath his grip.

“Show me how you like it,” you breathe, letting the little puffs of air tickle at his reddened shaft.

Seemingly overwhelmed, he remains answerless, eyes resting on your blushed mouth. “You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, as if reciting an undeniable truth, akin to the blue of the sky or the firmness of his length. His thumb traces the contours of your mouth with gossamer lightness. “Indulge as you please,”

At that, you smile, gently guiding his hand away and pressing a kiss tender on his knuckles. And with a final, heated glance up at his face—flushed with want, eyes dark with need—you lower your head, lips parting.

With a delicate grace, you envelop him, your lips forming a perfect crescent around his crown. Slowly, deliberately, you welcome him into the warmth of your mouth, one hand gliding to his base with tender precision. The other, seeking purchase, finds his chest, gently urging him backward to grant you greater freedom of movement.

He yields without resistance, acquiescence punctuated by a cascade of desperate, breathy whimpers as he reclines against the piano. The instrument protests beneath his bones, dissonant notes plunking out objections at the sin unfolding before it.

You savour him—heady salt and warmth. His velvet glides across your palette, your lips tightening in counterpoint. Your tongue laps and flattens against him in a rhythm that plucks a brief grunt from him. Curiosity compelling you, you lift your gaze to meet his. In that fleeting moment, his eyebrows arch—whether at the feeling or the sight, you prefer the idea of the latter—a wordless expression of awe at the vision before him.

This silent exchange ignites a fervour in you. You increase your tempo, sound of saliva blending seamlessly with his escalating pants. His voice, once controlled, now tumbles in a torrent of incoherent, keening pleas. His fingers now tangle gently in your hair, curling and uncurling in unconscious rhythm. When you dare to take him deeper, his grip tightens ever so slightly.

A deep groan reverberates from the depths of your throat, setting off a cascade of reactions that ripple through both your bodies. The raw sound triggers an involuntary response in him; his hips stutter and twitch forward with barely restrained urgency, cock brushing dangerously far back in your throat.

This sudden intrusion causes your body to react instinctively. Your grip on him tightens, fingers digging into the soft flesh of his thighs, pliant tongue pressing fully against him, cheeks hollowing with increased suction.

The sensation brings tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over. Yet, you hold them back, your focus entirely consumed by the incoherent, mangled words tumbling from Viktor's lips. His loss of composure only serves to fuel you, ushering more strangled moans from you.

With a deliberate leisure, you pull him out of your mouth, slight, wet ‘pop' punctuating the action. A grin plays across your lips as you lick them slowly, savouring his taste and the way his eyes track the movement of your tongue.

Leaning back in with renewed purpose, you flatten your tongue against the sensitive underside of his length. You drag it upwards, feeling every ridge and vein. As you reach the tip, you linger at the frenulum, that exquisitely sensitive spot just beneath the head. Your tongue dances there, teasing and tantalising, while your hand presses firmly against his abdomen, pushing him back slightly, maintaining control.

This calculated move elicits a pleased hum from him, a sound that vibrates through his body and into yours. Encouraged by his response, you repeat the movement, each pass of your tongue a perfect mirror of the last, building a rhythm that teeters on the edge between pleasure and sweet torment.

You revel—the choked desperation emanating from the back of his throat, the frantic rise and fall of his chest—tempestuous sea. His jaw, slack, burns into your imagination, conjuring tantalising visions of how it might feel nestled between your trembling thighs. Pure masterpiece before you.

A thought dances through your mind: how differently might he approach his little entanglements if it were you sprawled across his desk instead of the mundane paperwork? The notion trails a delicious shiver down you.

The tip of your tongue traces feather-light around his sensitive crown. Slowly, teasingly, you envelop his tip between your lips. Tongue, emboldened, finds its way back to the frenulum and lingers there. Your hands continue to glide in smooth, quickened motions, descending and rising fluidly. His breaths grow increasingly laboured as you continue, his hips jutting and twitching. You apply gentle pressure, guiding him downward.

With a filthy cry that escapes him, you feel the hot release at the roof of your mouth. Encouraging him further, you draw him deeper, welcoming the spill into your throat with a rough hum. His voice breaks as he calls out your name between ragged gasps. It sounds almost like prayer.

Further sinful whines fall out of him as you continue to swallow and lap him from inside.

As you feel his tension finally easing, you slowly withdraw, your tongue tracing the pearlescent spill. His sharp, staccato breaths punctuate the silence, and he brings his hand to your chin, lifting your attention to him.

You smile, swallowing, though proving futile, his release unrelentingly coating the back of your throat.

“Will I get to demonstrate?” he breathes, voice hoarse.

He smirks. The fucker.

You shake your head. “Not tonight. Tonight’s my repentance,”

[measuredingold]

pretty boy

authors note: hey 🫣 almost a year ago i posted my first bad omens fic onto ao3 called sweet boy and i thought… what better way to celebrate that than to write its sequel ? barely proofread so i apologize for any mistakes btw, getting back into the swing of writing “consistently” so i feel a bit rusty lol ! as always i hope you enjoy and feedback is always appreciated. :-) sweet boy can be found here.

pairing: noah sebastian x reader

cross-posted on ao3

word count: 3k~

cw/tags: pwp ( porn without plot basically ), p in v ( wrap it up ), established relationship, dom/sub undertones ( sub noah ), 18+ minors do not interact

The faint hum of the television fills the room, volume so low you barely can register what's even being said. You don't mind though because your focus isn't even on whatever episode of The Office that's playing, instead it's focused on the boy laying beside you, long limbs tangled with your own. Legs tangled with yours, an arm draped over your tummy, and head against your chest, you couldn't give a flying fuck about Michael Scott at this very moment.

You hum to yourself, a happy little sound, as your fingers card through his hair, finger nails lightly scratching at his scalp. You feel his chest vibrate against your side, probably making the same happy sounds that you were, and if you could see Noah's face you're sure he's smiling to himself, eyes fluttering shut.

You can't remember the last time you got a moment like this with him, just able to laze around in bed with nowhere to be. Noah wasn't running around or locking himself in his studio - nothing scheduled, nothing due. It was nice to finally be able to breathe with him in your arms again, and it was nice to know he wasn't worried about something for the first time in weeks. Maybe even months.

You let your eyes slip shut as you bask in the moment, fingers never leaving the home they made in Noah's hair. It's almost noon, you think, and you had already eaten breakfast. Maybe a quick nap wouldn't hurt... then you could get up and make some lunch for the two of you, or maybe finish the laundry you started last night. Sleep doesn't come to you, though, because you feel Noah move beside you, lifting his head up to bury against the crook of your neck.

You think nothing of it, even when you feel the ghost of his lips against your skin. You sigh, a happy sound, and by instinct your fingers tug gently at his hair before letting your nails scratch at his scalp again. You feel him whine rather than hear it, feeling the vibrations against your skin as he continues to trail kisses up your neck. Your eyes flutter open at the first roll of his hips against your thigh, and heat swirls in your stomach.

Oh.

So, you’re definitely not about to take a nap.

You thought he had been asleep, and maybe he was on the brink, but you think your little tug woke him up. You gasp quietly when you feel his teeth graze the skin of your neck before another sloppy kiss is pressed there, his hips rolling into your thigh again. You can practically feel him growing harder with every roll, the sweats he's adorning leaving nothing up to the imagination.

With another scratch to his scalp, your fingers tangle in his hair again, tugging much harder than you had moments prior. The force was enough to pull Noah's head back only slightly, inches away from your neck, and the sound he released was so delicious it had you shivering. He grinds against you again, this time with purpose, and you hear a faint hum of your name as he tries to press another kiss along the length of your neck.

"What is it, baby?" You mumble out, voice hoarse from barely speaking today.

Noah doesn't reply in words, instead lets out a few broken noises in response before attaching his lips back to your neck, another desperate roll of his hips against your thigh. You pull his head back again.

"Use your words, Noah."

It's been so long since you've shifted into this dynamic, usually Noah being the one to have the control recently. You loved that you were able to shift back and forth, because sometimes you needed him to be the one under you. Something shifts in his eyes as they widen and his tongue darts out to swipe over his bottom lip before pulling it between his teeth, still not saying a word.

You sigh, tugging at his hair once more. "Don't make me ask again."

"Just..." He finally manages to whine out, pupils dilating. "Miss you."

"I'm right here, baby."

"I know, but..." He groans, trying to bury his face back against your neck, hips rolling into your thigh again. "I miss you."

"Hm..." You hum as you card your fingers back through his hair, pulling back just enough to lock eyes with him. Your stomach flips at his dilated pupils, big brown eyes staring at you with such need that you physically have to restrain yourself from surging forward and kissing him right then and there. "My poor baby. I can tell you miss me a lot, yeah?"

He nods, a bit too desperately, pressing himself against your thigh again. You bite down on your bottom lip to keep any noises of yours at bay.

"Yeah." He mumbles and his tongue darts out to slide over his bottom lip again, eyes watching you closely. "Miss you. Need you.”

For some reason those words strike a chord within you, your heart clenching beneath your chest at his confession. You couldn't help but get emotional sometimes whenever he gave this part of himself up to you, putting all his trust in your hands. There was a time where that was rare, and in your years spent together, you watched the walls he built around himself slowly come down. There was no better feeling in this world than having his trust, and you would never take it for granted.

You scratch at his scalp again and smile at the way his eyes flutter shut, body shuddering against yours. "You have me, sweet boy."

He whines again, a pathetic sound, and you take the chance to lean forward, lips pressing against his for the first time in hours. The last kiss you shared was innocent, early in the morning when you had made breakfast for the two of you - this was the complete opposite. It was full of need, Noah whimpering into your mouth as your free hand slid between your bodies, pressing against the front of his sweats. His hips cant forward, pressing into your touch, and you couldn't stop yourself from squeezing.

"Shit." He hissed against your lips and you took it upon yourself to slip your hand past the hem of sweats and boxers, letting your fingers wrap around his length.

"Oh." You gasp quietly once you have a firm hold on his cock, thumb brushing over the tip. "All for me?"

He nods quickly, lips brushing against yours as his hips roll into your fist. "Yes. You. All for you."

Pride swells up beneath your chest and your hand strokes up and down his cock a few times. The angle is awkward, and with a very displeased sound from the boy beside you, you let go for just a second to push him onto his back. You roll onto him with ease, hips pressed firmly against his aching cock. He arches up off the bed with a loud noise, and you take a moment to admire the way he looks beneath you.

Cheeks flushed, lips slick and bitten and parted beautifully, brown eyes hooded as he stared up at you. All fucked out, out of his head, and you've barely even started.

"Oh, look at you." You can't help but reach down, swiping your thumb over his bottom lip. "Aren't you just the prettiest thing, hm?"

He nods, a deep groan escaping him as your hips roll over his for a second time. His mouth follows your thumb and before you can pull it away, his lips part. You watch with widened eyes as his lips wrap around your digit, slipping into his mouth with ease and out of curiosity your thumb presses down against his tongue. You feel him hum around it, a delicious sound, and you press harder, further.

"Such a pretty boy... especially with your mouth full." You feel his cock twitch beneath you, the bounce having you sucking in a breath as your hips roll without much thought. "How do you want it, baby? My hands? My mouth?"

You're not sure how you're even making complete sentences, the feeling of his tongue circling around your thumb having your brain feeling like complete mush, but you push through it. This is about him. His brows furrowed and he shakes his head, hands coming up to grip your hips, grinding you down against him again. You gasp.

"Oh. Baby wants me to fuck him?" He nods, whatever noise that leaves him being muffled by your thumb. You slowly pull it away from his mouth, dragging it down his chin. "Words, Noah."

"Yes, please." He breathes out, voice already wrecked. "Please, please, please."

"Shhh." You hush him, grounding your hips into his one more time - nice and slow. "I got you. I'll give you what you want."

You don't waste any time after that, sitting up on your knees to tug your sleep shirt up and over your head, tossing it to the floor. Noah groans beneath you and with the way his cock twitches under your hips you're sure he's more than pleased to see that you wore nothing else underneath. You grin down at him, admiring the way his skin flushed from his chest up to the tips of his ears before leaning down, pressing another kiss to his lips. It doesn’t last long until you're trailing your kisses down his body, trying to taste every part of him that you could.

This was about getting him out of his head and letting him continue to not worry about everything like he typically would. Sometimes when he was home he’d be… sort of a nightmare, fixated on the next song, the next tour, the next merch drop. You didn’t want that. You wanted him relaxed, without a care in the world in that pretty little head of his. Tomorrow he can go back to his worried self, but today… he’s yours, and you’re going to do everything in your power to have your boy feeling like putty once you’re finished with him.

Your fingers hook in the waistband of his sweats and boxers, not wanting to waste anymore time. He was squirming beneath you, becoming impatient, and you’re selfish enough to admit you can’t wait much longer to have him inside of you, either. The thought of his cock had heat shooting straight to your core, and you tugged at his sweats. He immediately got the hint, hips rising off the bed and he helped you shimmy them off his body, discarding them on the floor with the rest of your clothes.

“Pretty boy.” You gasped, eyes widening at the sight of his cock resting against his stomach. You subconsciously lick at your lips, the need for Noah growing more and more by the second, and your fingers hook into your own underwear, sliding them off with haste. “All mine?”

He nods, words being followed by a whine as his eyes watch you toss your underwear to the floor. “All yours.”

You smile in response but can’t help yourself from leaving forward, licking a stride up the base of his cock all the way to the tip. He shudders beneath you, especially when you place feather light kisses around his tip before crawling back up his body.

“Baby…” He groans, hands reaching for you.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. That wasn’t nice of me.” You giggle despite your apology, lips finding home against Noah’s yet again. “No more teasing, okay? No more. Promise.”

You pull back and sit up on your knees again, hips shifting over Noah’s. His cock twitches beneath you and you don’t stop the moan that falls from your lips. Your head drops to watch the way his cock slips between your soaked folds, tip nudging against your clit. He shudders again, hands gripping your hips to stop you.

“Wanna…” He takes a deep breath to collect himself, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. “Inside. Wanna be inside. I’ll come if you keep going.”

You giggle, a little breathless, and nod at his words. “Already so worked up? How cute.”

You lift your hips up just slightly as your fingers wrap around him, lining him up with your entrance. You caught his eyes just as you began to sink down on his cock and the sight was... everything. From the way his brows furrowed, his pretty lips parting as you slowly sink further and further, and then the way his body arches the second you bottom out. You gasp, the arch of his body pressing him deeper into you, and your eyes flutter shut at just how deep he was.

"Shit, Noah." You moan out, your current facade breaking for just a moment. “Always feel so fucking good, baby. Oh my god.”

You give yourself just a moment to adjust to his cock, no prep making the stretch burn slightly more than usual - still delicious all the same. With a sigh of pleasure, you rise and slowly drop, the slow drag of his cock making the both of you moan in unison. The hand that was on your hip slid up your body to the back of your neck, pulling you down to him. Your lips slide together messily as you roll your hips into his, picking up speed.

“Oh fuck. Fuckfuckfuck.” He pants against your mouth, no longer kissing you, too consumed by the feeling of your pussy clenching around him.

You sit up again, resting your hands against his chest as you continue your relentless grinding, gasping every so often whenever Noah’s thrusts would meet your own. You knew he was close, so worked up and overwhelmed even before he had gotten inside you. A part of you wants to tease him, get him so close to the edge before stopping completely. You want to see him cry, feel him shake underneath you and hear him beg for you to keep going, but today wasn’t the day for that. No, your poor boy was already there, cock twitching inside you with every roll of your hips, and you weren’t that far behind him either.

“Baby.” He gasped out, fingers digging into your hips as you grounded into him. “Gonna… fuck, ‘m gonna…”

His words get stuck in his throat and you stare down at him in awe, truly captivated at how beautiful he looked beneath you. Skin flushed the perfect shade of pink, brows knitted together and mouth dropped open, the most delicious noises leaving him. You’re not even sure if he even knows what he’s saying at this point, too consumed by you and the way his cock feels buried inside your pussy. You grin lazily down at him, giving another slow, deep roll of your hips, nails digging into his chest.

“Yeah? Gonna what? Use your words, pretty boy.”

“Oh.” It’s a choked sound and you feel his cock twitch inside of you the exact time you clench around him, and you swear his grip on your hips will leave a bruise tomorrow. “Fuck. Gonna come, ‘m gonna come. Please, please, please, baby please.”

“You can come.” You sigh out in pleasure, never stopping the movement of your hips. “Fuck, yes, you can come. So good for me, baby.”

With a few more sporadic thrusts from Noah he stills with a choked sob, cock twitching while he spills inside of you. You moan at the feeling, body shuddering as he fills you up, and it almost pushes you over the edge. Almost. You sit up and let a hand slide to your center, middle and ring fingers rubbing against your aching clit as you continue to ride him. Your body slumps forward the second your orgasm crashes into you, burying your face into Noah’s shoulder as you cry out in ecstasy.

All that was left to be heard in your bedroom was the combination of both yours and Noah’s labored breathing. You stayed still for a moment, catching your breath, and smiled lazily to yourself when you felt his lips brush against the side of your head.

“Thank you.” He mumbled, voice low, and you could tell just how… gone he still truly was. “Needed that.”

“You’re welcome.” You reply just as tired, but your words get drowned out by the soft moan you let out when he shifts under you, reminding you of his now softening cock still buried inside.

“Fuck.” He whimpered next to your ear, obviously sensitive from you still wrapped around him, but made no effort to move just yet.

You pull back to finally stare at him, heat swirling in the pit of your stomach again at just his fucked out he looked. Eyes barely open, the happiest little smile on his lips, cheeks stained with tears that you must’ve missed during your climax. He whimpers again, pathetically at that, when you roll your hips and clench around him one last time, his body shaking under yours.

“Sorry, my love.” You mumble, sitting up fully and then reaching down to wild at his cheeks. “Just look so beautiful like this. Can’t help myself.”

You could easily take him again, and you knew he’d let you, especially with the way his cheeks flush at your compliment. He’d probably let you take him six more times if it meant not parting from you - when he got in this headspace all he ever wanted to be was closecloseclose. Though, instead, you rise on your knees and the two of you groan in unison when his cock slips from you, the mess between your legs becoming very apparent.

“Come on, shower time.”

It takes a second to finally get him out of the bed and into the bathroom, and you knew with the way his eyes were fluttering every five seconds you had about ten minutes before he’d pass out from exhaustion. You speed through the shower and before you know it, you’re back in bed with Noah’s face buried against your chest once again. This time sleep does find you both, and you nap into the afternoon with a grin on your lips and your boy in your arms.

[scarletlizzard]

OH MY GOSH, AHHHHH!!! 500 FOLLOWERS!!! IM SO HAPPY FOR YOU!!!!

I love the list you posted btw. I picked two because I thought they went well together ☺️

72 and 45:

Wanda: "Oh my god, are you okay?"

R: "Yeah I'm fine, I've been stabbed before."

Wanda: "I'm going to fucking kill them."

72 & 45

104 Dilogue Prompts

Pairing: wanda x reader (don't think pronouns are mentioned)

Tags: little violence, reader gets stabbed, mentions of a gun, fluff honestly

A/n: Thank you so much!! 🥹 and thank you for requesting! I love hearing from yall 💞

~~~

The mission was going great.

They didn't always, and the fact that Steve paired you up with Wanda was making it all the better. Your goal, get to the lower levels where the servers are located to retrieve the data needed. Wandas goal, get you there safely. You were an asset to the team for sure, with your smarts and spy skills, but sometimes the occasion called for a little magical touch. You couldn't have been more grateful this was an occasion.

The two of you were currently waiting on one of the upper levels of the building, waiting on Steve or Natashas signal to continue down.

You glimpse at Wanda again as she leans against the wall across from you. Her red locks flow past her shoulders, red suit hugging her curves as she twists a ring on her finger.

"I'm glad Steve paired us up, by the way," you say quietly with a smile on your face. Wanda doesn't miss the glint in your eye as she looks up to meet your gaze.

"Well, someone had to babysit, right?" She says playfully, a smirk on her lips. Your lips part as you gasp and stand straight from your previous leaning position.

"I-what-babysit?" The words spill out all together as you look at her in offense. "I'll have you know I am a decorated international spy. I may not be a-a black widow or have magic fingers, but I assure you I don't need a babysitter!" You huff as you step up to her, ego calming as she stands straight, looking down at you.

"Magic fingers?" Wanda chuckles, and your cheeks burn.

"You know what I meant," you mumble and cross your arms. She steps closer, now invading your personal space.

"Are you talking about my powers or the magic that had you in my bed screa-"

You put your hand over her mouth, stopping her from finishing her sentence. She lifts her hands in defense as you glare at her with a red face.

Before either of you can say another word, Natashas voice call over the comms.

"Head down, Wanda, be ready. They're waiting for you guys," she warns. The two of you look at each other with a nod, both of you attempting to be serious. You make your way lower, coming across a set of double doors.

"Ready?" Wanda asks, her fingers twitching as she forms red orbs of energy in her hands. You nod, pulling out your pistol in one hand and a small knife in the other.

Wanda sends a blast through the doors, opening them up and revealing a group of the enemies that had, in fact, been waiting. She's quick to send another few blasts, scattering them about the large room as the two of you begin to fight.

"Babysitter..." You mumble to yourself, shaking your head as you take down an agent. You look over at Wanda to see she's taken out half the group. Okay, so maybe it wasn't bad she was here. You, not so easily, fight with another and lose your pistol in the process. But as you land another punch, he falls to the ground.

"See that?" You breathe out as you look to Wanda, who gracefully fought the last three at the same time. "I can take care of myself!" You say with a huff and lean down to grab the fallen gun.

As you do, you feel yourself being grabbed from behind. An excruciatingly sharp pain resonates from the side of your abdomen and you let out a, "Fuck!" When the agent removes the blade they stuck in you. You raise your hand across your body, pointing the gun behind you.

The bullet only grazes them, and they run through the set of double doors as soon as Wanda turned her head in your direction.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" She asks with worried eyes. A shaky hand rests on your face as she watches blood spill through your shirt. Your hand covers the gash to apply pressure, a wince leaving your lips.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I've been stabbed before," you say with a casual tone, trying to act as if the wound throbbing with pain wasn't enough to take you to your knees.

Wandas eyes burn red, an anger behind her eyes you had never seen before.

"I'm going to fucking kill them," she spits out, malice behind her words. Before she can walk away your hand reaches out to grab her wrist, stopping her.

"Wanda... don't leave me," you say softly, your touch and now gentle tone enough to calm her down only a little. She takes a deep breath, her hands still shaking with anger, but nods.

"Alright, alright, come here," she sighs softly and kisses your cheek before letting you lean on her for support as you make your way down. "We'll get you out of here and then I'm going to fucking kill them."

You chuckle a little at her reaction, face heating again just like earlier. You could see it written on her face, the way her jaw was tensed and the fire burning behind her eyes, that she wasn't lying.

"Did you see those guys I took out?" You ask, trying to lighten her mood. Wanda can't help but smile at you, both of you knowing she had fully taken on the group of them.

"They looked pretty rough, detka.. not sure why Steve and Nat thought you needed help," She says knowingly.

When she did return, it was with crimson splattered across the front of her suit and a smile on her face. You didn't say a word, only giving her a kiss and letting her wrap her arms around you.

You nod in approval, letting her stop to pick you up and carry you the rest of the way. Not that you needed it, but you weren't going to deny being in the arms of Wanda, and she wasn't going to let another person lay their hands on you again. As soon as you were safe with Natasha, Wanda disappeared.

[selfcarecap]

tag game 🎆

I’ve made a few new friends since I’ve started writing for Logan that I don’t know that well yet and I haven’t done a tag game in so long so I compiled my own from a few other ones I saw <3

last song you listened to: probably The Emptiness Machine by Linkin Park although I’ve got So Lonely by the Police stuck in my head rn so maybe that

silver or gold jewellery? silver if I have to choose one forever, but I also wear gold sometimes

do you have any tattoos? yess I have three, two on my arms and one on my leg :) also considering getting Dogpool as a LPS tattooed next 🤭

piercings? three nose piercings (one on each side and a septum bc i’m gay) and normal earlobe ones

currently reading or favourite book? i just finished Boy Parts (unfortunately disliked most of it btw, 2/5 ⭐️) and I’m either gonna read Rouge next or Are You My Mother?

a hobby you would like to try? Maybe making zines/collages? I had to make a zine for uni last semester and I loved it so much and I’m always collecting pics for collages (that I never end up using🙃) anyway

coffee or tea? Teaaa, I like green tea, chamomile tea, peppermint tea

favourite video game? Animal Crossing (ig New Horizons but I loved some of the previous ones too) or Sims 3 (although I’ve only played Sims 4 since it came out lol buuuut)

star sign? ♐️ (sagittarius with scorpio moon and taurus rising, not that I really know what that means tbh)

who is your hear me out? I feel like mine don’t qualify as hear me outs on tumblr lmao but Charles Dance/Tywin Lannister (hear me out bc he’s old ig) & Venom

tags (no pressure & feel free to ignore entirely or adjust some questions, and if anyone else wants to do this just say I tagged you <3)(some of you are not new mutuals but obviously i’m still tagging you💖) @t-lostinworlds @simplykenni @theprettyarachnid @ethanhoewke @eloquentlytired @cocoamoonmalfoy @birdstreesandhoneybees @thinkinonsense @aniqua @slushycoookie @devotion @silkscream @logansbaby (i hope all of these are mutuals anyway🫣 if not then ignore me lmao) also if you tag other people and you tag loads please consider making your own post shsksgkl <3 also tagging any of my anons if they want to do this 🫶🏼

[cheri-2047]

Hello! I hope im doing this right hehe,,,

Can i request for a Lyney x fempainter!reader who's also a tsundere? Reader also has a soft spot for flowers :3 tysm in advanced!!!!

i have such a big Lyney brainrot sm to the point that my parents call him my boyfriend 😭

ANYWAYS. IVE been wanting to feed The lyney x reader tag cause I love my husband. thank u for the req btw !!

sorry if I made the reader a bit like,,, too much (??) my bad if I did

“Roses for you!”

TAGS: fluff ! CHARACTERS: Lyney, Rosseland, Mentions of Charlotte,

Poof

you were painting peacefully, while Lyney was out on a mission. Lately you had been running out of inspiration, so sometimes you would get his cat Rosseland to pose for you.

“guess who~”

Someone covered your eyes, appearing out of nowhere.

“you’re back early” you smiled, before the man who appeared behind you covered your eyes tighter

“You didn’t guess”

“ugh you- I mean my wonderful and amazing boyfriend, the one and only, the greatest man in Teyvat, Lyney!” You said sarcastically, Lyney chuckled as he felt you rolling your eyes.

“oh come on now! Don’t you want to see something cool?” “look Lyney- I’m- ah rosseland no go back!” you felt the cat rub against your leg, you got tickled a bit.

lyney chuckled at the sight, pressing a kiss to the back of your neck, causing you to get tickled more

“ah-lyney” you laughed “stop!!”

He chuckled before letting go of your eyes

“tada!”

and just like that, your canvas was gone. “hey where did you-“

when you looked back, you saw him holding a bouquet of rainbow roses. You blushed

“why did you…”

“you said you were running out of inspo right?”

you nod

“and you know how I’ve been in a lot of missions lately right?”

you nod

“well I.. charlotte told me in a mission that rainbow roses signify romance and passion. And well… I got reminded of you”

you blushed, averting your gaze

“they’re fresh too! I Just picked them”

he smiled, sitting on a chair behind you and hugging you from behind.

“wait..picked them?”

“mmhm, I grew them myself.”

you were shocked, you didn’t even know that he had been growing flowers for you.

“just like my love has grown for you”

AND THAT WAS IT. That was the last straw, at this point you were a flustered mess and you didn’t know how to thank him. Let alone even look at him.

“Tsk…you shouldn’t have-“

“No- no buts! I wanted to, I love you”

he smiled, holding your chin to make you face him. He laughed, “my you’re so cute like this!” “shh!!” You crossed your arms, as your lover planted a kiss on your lips.

He moved the chair next to you and with a snap, the canvas re appeared and the roses in a vase in front of it

“can I Watch?”

you nod, and he lays his head on your shoulder as you start to sketch.

“your art is so pretty… I’ll never understand how you do it so well…” he mumbled as Rosseland hops into his lap. and just nuzzles against him a lot.

“I think rosseland agrees as well” he smiles. Looking up to see you for a bit

“still speechless Mon ange?” He chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“I love you”

A/B: aaaaand that’s a wrap. I might draw this honestly HAHAHAHAH sorry it’s kinda short, I just kinda did whatever here. Also sorry if the French terms of endearments are wrong, I just searched it up. Anyways mon Ange is my Angel :>>> I had fun writing this WAAH I love Lyney so much (this is my second lyney post of the day…) btw, good luck on your art journey !!

btw… my Masterlist issue isn’t fixed yet, if anyone can comment how to fix it that would be a great help, thank you !! (And also comments to improve are also appreciated, anything about capitalization and grammar and stuff I know, I’m writing for fun so I don’t pay much attention to that HAHHAHA)

[keri-mcberry]

Tag nine people you want to get to know better!

Thank you @sparxyv , @noelles-legacy , and @ccelicaa for the tags! It was fun getting to know more about you all on your posts, and it makes me happy that you thought of me 🫣

LAST SONG - I2I by Tevin Campbell from A Goofy Movie (my favorite movie of all time btw 💕)

FAVORITE COLOR - Sky Blue ☁️💙

CURRENTLY WATCHING - I mostly just watch YouTube haha! Right now, I'm watching the Baldur's Gate 3 cast play D&D ✨

LAST MOVIE - A Goofy Movie, which explains the song choice 🤭 My husband and I had a movie night with burgers and hot wings 😩👌

SWEET/SPICY/SAVORY - Spicy 💯!! Although, I've been craving all things sweet, spicy, and savory lately 🍨🌶️🍔

RELATIONSHIP STATUS - Married 💞 My husband is the Slytherin to my Hufflepuff 💚💛 (as sappy as that sounds 😭) I'm his emotional support, while he inspires me to pursue things I initially thought were out of my reach. He has been incredible and supportive throughout this entire pregnancy, and I honestly have no idea how I'd get by without him 🥹

CURRENT OBSESSION - Hogwarts Legacy of course lmao... but also Animal Crossing New Horizons! My grandma and I have been obsessed ever since it released in 2020. She has over 4,000 hours on it 💀 Recently, I picked it back up and restarted my island. So that would explain my absence from HL content (sorry!) because I really want to impress her next time I see her LOL 😂

LAST THING YOU GOOGLED - "How to make CoCo Ichibanya Curry" because I'm craving it terribly, and I don't live in Japan anymore 💔

When I logged on this morning, I saw so many of these on my dash. So I lost track of who all has already done it 😅

@betheckart @syaolaurant @moonstruckmoony @ethniee @wrongcog @myokk @diana-bluewolf @faustinio27 @girl-named-matty

Even if you already did one or not feeling it, just know that I'm thinking of you! 🫶 I originally had a lot more than 9 people tagged and had to shorten it 😂 If anyone else would like to participate, then consider yourself TAGGED 🫵

[httpscomexe]

Slice

Day 9 of Kink-Tober - Knife Play

Summary: Two men have their eyes on you and just when you're about to end it all, they take you.

(Find What I’m currently writing by checking my pinned post)

Parings: Bucky x Reader x Loki

Warnings: (I honestly hated this, it was super rushed) Breaking in, oral, double oral, fingering, knife play (Lmk if I missed any)

Tags: @cellyx33 @foxherder @shybluebirdninja

Word Count: 2256 (Find my Kink-Tober list here)

P.S. If you would like to be added to the Kink-Tober tag list, just let me know.

“This one smells good.” Your friend held a bouquet of flowers up to your nose, and it made you sneeze.

“Does it matter if it smells good?” You hate to be the pessimistic person here, but… “I mean they’re just gonna sit in front of a headstone.” She groans, clearly not liking your response.

Most people hate shopping with you. You’re bluntly honest. If they look fat in the dress, you tell them. If the shoes make their feet look like circus clowns, then you tell them. And of course, if they want to get flowers for a dead man’s gravestone, a yearly tradition for your best friend. Then honestly what’s the point in buying the ones that smell good. No one was going to bend over in the middle of a graveyard and smell the flowers.

It was cruel.

But you were honest.

“I knew I should’ve brought Kayley.” He huffs, putting the bouquet back in place before storming away from you, and you sigh. It wasn’t the first time she got mad at your honesty. You’re used to it.

“No wait, please… come back.” You don’t bother shouting. You’re quiet because you don’t want her to hear you.

You shove your hands in your pockets, fidgeting with the little keychain of your car keys as you stare down at another set of flowers. Sunflowers and other little white flowers that looked like little cotton balls on a stiff vine. They were cute, your favourite flowers were sunflowers. Probably not the best for a funeral though.

You sigh, more of a groan as you throw your head back. Normally Tiffany forgives you after an hour of being enraged, you were sure this time wouldn’t be any different as you picked up a bouquet of roses, some of them dyed to be black.

“Is this all you’d like?” The cashier asks, and you don’t bother responding, you just hand her your card and the fake smile on her face drops. “Okay, your total is $26.17, have a nice day.” You stare at the screen that says “approved " with a little green check mark before leaving the little store in the mall, grabbing one of the free “To and From,” cards from a little basket, which you scribble your name and Tiffany's on, along with a, “P.S. Sorry for being honest, and btw, these flowers are more appropriate for a graveyard than hibiscus. Those are for tea.” Before tying it around the stem of the roses and heading towards the parking lot.

“Of course.” You mumble to yourself. Your car is parked where you left it, but her car is gone.

She left you alone at the mall, at night, in the dark, where your two cars were the last ones there. Until now, it was just you.

Along with a motorcycle and a big ass black hummer, conveniently parked just across from your yellow beetle. Two men standing outside, one smoking a cigarette.

One of the men was tall, and skinny, but still muscular. You could tell when he flexed his arms as he crossed them over his chest. His hair was long, black, and greasy. You could see the ice blue eyes he adorned from a mile away. It was ridiculous.

The other man was a little shorter, but definitely more muscular. His hair was also long. He was wearing a red Henley with a nice jacket over it, a ball cap fastened on his head with a little ponytail peeking out from the back.

They both stared at you as you approached your car door. Your movements are hesitant. You were a little scared, reaching for the pepper spray in your pocket without them noticing.

“A little late for you to be out alone.” Greasy finally spoke up as you reached your door and opened it, quickly getting inside after saying something back.

“Good thing I’m going home.” You shout, closing the door and quickly starting the engine of your car, not wasting any time in backing out and leaving the parking lot. But also not missing the angry looks that both men give you.

You didn’t bother feeling bad for what you said. You just don’t have the energy to care much anymore.

She’s ‘threatened’ to stop being friends with you before. And it sounds fake, but you honestly wouldn’t care.

You just got out of a 5 year relationship because your fiance cheated on you with some other girl. Your cat got run over, and you lost your job because you’ve been sleeping in lately because you’re literally depressed.

So, tonight was the night.

You set your keys on the counter in their little bowl before typing your hair up into a high ponytail, leaving two little strands down for your bangs. Then you pull off your hoodie, you know your body heat is going to rise substantially. There was the bottle, sitting on top of your fridge. An entire glass bottle of vodka. And on the counter were sleeping meds and pills.

Tonight is the night.

You tell yourself again. Grabbing the bottle and pouring it into a mug, mixing the sleeping meds into the mug with every last one of your prescription pills, then you reach under your sink and grab your bleach, filling the rest of the mug with the liquid.

You turn around, pulling out your sharpest knife from the knife block on your counter, then you head to your bathroom. Partially excited, mostly scared.

Your biggest worry was your body might forcefully throw it all back up.

Hence, the knife.

If drugging yourself didn’t work, nor alcohol poisoning. Then surely blood loss would.

You turn the knob to your bathroom, freezing in the doorway as your eyes land on the yellow and white flowers, curiously tilting your head.

What the fuck?

The flowers you’d seen at the store… were just sitting there?

You place the mug on your bathroom counter, deciding to figure out why the fuck there were flowers there in the first place. Obsessed ex? Apologetic stalker? Normal stalker? Whoever it was, they knew your favourite flower.

You crouch down, lifting the bouquet into your hands and inspecting them before standing up, your eyes glued to the note wrapped around the stems, the little to and from card had words scribbled on it. Your heart dropped a little as you read it.

Y/N. We’ve been watching you. We know you. We know where you live. What you do every day. And soon, you’ll know us. Watch your back.

“What the actual fuck?” You say aloud, turning around as a sound suddenly comes from behind you. It sounded like the kitchen.

You grab your knife, which you’d set next to your mug.

Yea, so what if you wanted to die. Didn’t mean you wanted to be murdered. Plus, this sounded like a stalker situation, so you’d rather not be tortured.

“Hello?” Fucking hello? Did you think this was a horror movie? Shut up. You slowly stalk around your own home, searching for whatever caused the sound.

“There you are.” You spin around, almost losing your balance as you turn on your heels at a full 180. “Did you like your flowers?” The man asks, his same greasy hair from earlier was now half tied up, and his fingers were locked behind his back.

“Who the fuck-”

“Is the knife necessary?” A deeper voice asks from behind you, making you turn again. The other man, still in his red henley, his ball cap off and his jacket thrown over the back of your couch. “How about you put that down.”

“How about you both get out of my house.” You didn’t plan on using the knife honestly. It’s not like you would’ve been able to overpower these two men. Both of them alone with each three times your size. They could cough and knock you over.

“You have a bad attitude.” He grins as you face him, the knife tip pointed at him almost accusingly. “She’s snarky, isn’t she Loki?” He asks the other man, slowly stalking towards you.

“Oh I believe she is, maybe a little much for my liking.”

“Such an attitude…” Suddenly, two large hands are on your waist. Causing you to jump forward and quickly turn around again, the hands are replaced from Lokis’ to the other man's hands, but he keeps you still in a much firmer grip as Loki gets unbearably close, his snake-like fingers reaching up to cup your face.

“Remember us darling?” He whispers, bringing his body flat against yours as he doesn’t give you time to speak, leaning down to press his lips to your throat and the other man takes the other side, both of them leaving marks. “James and I aren’t very happy with the attitude you gave us…” He growls, biting you carefully before pulling away again to look into your eyes, and you feel fuzzy. In the reflection of his eyes you see green, and your body feels numb, almost limp as you stand there before your feet move on their own, taking Loki's hand as he brings you to your bedroom, Bucky following close behind.

“Go ahead and lie down darling.” You listen without a word, crawling into your bed and lying down, even voluntarily opening your legs for them.

“Now she’s being good?”

“A little mind control never hurts anybody.” Your eyes watch as they both get close, Bucky reaching over his head to pull off his shirt as Loki moves his hand, a green light fog-like substance emitting from his fingers before a dagger appears, and your eyes widen. “What’s the matter darling?” He teases, then holds up the dagger before crawling between your legs. “This?” He brings the blade close to your throat then carefully drags it down to your chest. “This is just in case you decide not to behave.” He whispers as he gets close to your ear, James’ hands holding you still by your waist, and one of his hands moves down your waist, to your hips, to your thigh, then between your legs, under your shorts.

“Get the fuck off me…” You try to shout, but the attention felt amazing. You didn’t want them to stop, you wanted them to tear you apart.

“Hush now darling…” Loki grips the knife in his hand, and the blade gets caught on your shirt before he begins to drag it up, completely tearing it away from your body, leaving you on full display for the two men, and you keep still, the knife trailing down the valley of your breasts, down to your stomach, was enough to keep you quiet. “Tie her down..” You lips part open, James’ hands wrap around your waist, lifting you up as he pushes you against the headboard and two light green strands of light circle around your wrists before they secure you to the bed frame, turning into vines, another one joining to cover your mouth, silencing you.

“Alright…” James starts, crawling between your legs, his lips attaching to your neck. “Let's get started already…” You’re about to start yelling at him, to beg him to get off, but then you whine in pain, the blade of the knife dragging down your thigh and James moves off of you slightly, making room for Loki to bend down, his tongue licking at the trickle of blood that seeps out of the side of your thigh.

“Shit…” You groan, and James' metal arm comes around, his fingers attaching around your neck as he lifts your head from looking down at your thigh and your eyes glue onto his before his lips connect with yours in a fierce kiss. Now it starts. You realise as Loki straddles one of your legs, his lips attaching to the other side of your throat as his knife pokes at the soft skin of your stomach. You weren’t sure what they would do with you after they were done with you, and honestly you weren’t too ready to know.

“She takes fucking amazing…” James groans, his hips bucking slightly to meet yours, and Loki pulls back for a moment, the knife trailing along with him as he leans down, pressing kisses to your bare thighs, then his knife hooks around your shorts, tearing them and his hands make work with your panties.

“With as much as I want to tear these off of you, they’re to fucking pretty to shred.” He tells you, pulling them off of your legs and down your thighs until they’re off and thrown away somewhere in the room, and he wastes no time and leaning down, pressing his tongue to your heat as he licks from your hole to your clit, biting it gently before repeating the movement, and they already have you a moan mess, James leaning down to suck at your nipples, twisting and pulling what he can’t grab. You let out another moan, Loki's fingers finding their way to easily slip into your cunt, and he thrusts his fingers, his digits finding the spongy spot inside of you which made you feel feral as he stroked it perfectly. His other hand busy with the knife as he presses it further against your thigh, James leaning down to immediately clean your skin of blood as they switch places, now with James's metal fingers inside of you, Loki's lips attached to yours, and you could taste yourself on his tongue as you sat still for them, unmoving at Loki’s mercy.

[sameschmidtdiffname]

feeling a bit weird asking this request since i haven't actually seen anyone write such a thing, but i'd like to ask for something about the parent figure!mike (NOT SMUT OFC), maybe something he's the reader's father or brother or something, if it's not something you could write just ignore !!! (i'm also not a native speaker so i apologize if it sounds impolite i always have this problem :/)

Girl have you read my fics?? Do NAWT come on here talking about feeling weird for a request when I have written shit that's sending me to super hell with Jensen Ackles or whoever played the angel guy from Supernatural. (I hope that joke made sense, I'm not in that fandom </3)

Anyways, I hope you enjoy this!! Fresh off the press for you pookie <3 (BTW, your English js great and you weren't demanding at all!! Seriously, don't feel bad 😊)

Same Shit, Different Schmidt

Dad! Mike & Gender Neutral! Reader

(This gif always sends me, I'm sorry)

Summery: You are a stubborn ass and Mike is not here to put up with that shit. Where'd you get this attitude, anyways? Is it so hard to just listen?

Tags: No use of Y/N, Reader is Mike's child, this is lowkey a sequel to 'What's One More?' but that is absolutely not required to read this, sickness, reader almost passes out, slight angst, Mike takes care of reader, Mike has a come to Jesus moment, mentions of arguing, injury, underage drinking, Abby and Mike go at it at one point, just a cute lil drabble :)

Notes: it feels illegal to post something so short. Is this allowed?? Anyways, this was so cute to write! Definitely a new approach. I hope you guys like this! Thanks for the request anon, I always love getting them 💗

▪︎◇{¤♧■♧¤}◇▪︎

"I'm fine," you groaned emphatically, trying to to rise from the bed, musty from your body's sweat during the night.

"You are not fine, do not bullshit me," Mike scolded. His hands pressed you back onto the bed, his scowl growing as he feels your temperature through your moist shirt. "When did this start?"

"I told mom my throat hurt last night and she gave me some ibuprofen. It's seriously just a cold," you said, trying one more time to rise from the bed.

"You always get a sore throat before you get sick, have since you were a kid. When did the fever start?" His hand feels freezing against your clammy forehead, making you shy away to avoid the chills that threaten you.

"Not hot."

"You want me to call your mom so you can gaslight her, too?" His tone is firm and threatening. "Is there something you're trying to get away with here or...?"

"I have tech tonight for my show, I can't miss," you finally admit. You open your mouth to continue, but Mike quickly cuts you off.

"No. Out of the question," he said.

"Dad, I'll get in trouble-"

"You will get everyone else sick and then what? I said no," he said firmly. But when he sees the way you sink into the bed, eyes sad and finally accepting the situation, he thinks of your mother acting in a similar manner or Abby when she was your age with the same attitude. It makes him relent, pressing his lips tight together. "What do you need me to do?" He asked, voice softer as he strokes your cheek. Your eyes brighten for a moment, a smile breaking out. "You're not going, I'm just asking what I could do to help."

You sink into the bed once more, crossing your arms.

"My director is gonna hate me," you mumble.

"I will deal with her, or she will deal with me. I promise you one's better than the other," he said. At that you crack a smile, finally looking at him.

"Mom's not gonna be pleased either," you said.

"Mom's not gonna let you go either," he said. "I'm getting the thermometer and then I'm moving you to the living room so I can watch you better. You get control of the TV as your consolation prize."

You twirl your finger in the air, rolling your eyes as emit a mocking 'yay,' glaring at him as he shoots the same glare down at you, walking out of the room and slipping his phone out of his pocket to call your mother.

"How upset are they?" She asked on the other side of the phone. He could hear the office chatter going on around her as he searched through the cabinets for the supplements they kept in stock.

"They're not thrilled. Not planning my death yet, but it's coming," Mike huffed. "Is it elderberry that helps with sore throats?"

"Elderberry makes it worse after you get sick, helps before. Don't give them that," she said. There's a slight pause before she adds "You realize this attitude is inherited?"

"Oh," he groaned, sucking on his teeth. "I wasn't gonna throw you under the bus like that."

"I helped raise Abby, do not pin this on me," she laughed.

"I don't deny sickness," Mike said.

"I can name five seperate instances where you did," she countered. Mike froze for a moment, trying to remember. "Just go easy on them. Remember you're dealing with your kid."

"And yours," he countered.

"Supposedly," she teased.

"I'm pretty sure that was you I knocked up."

"But are you sure?"

"Well, there was that one time with your mom."

She laughed. "Have them text me when they can. I'll deal with director, she knows me better."

"Thanks. She terrifies me. Kinda get why they don't wanna miss," Mike admitted. With a quick laugh and a quicker goodbye, Mike clicks off the call, slipping the phone back into his pocket. He gathered the vitamins in a small cup, grabbed the other needed items and made his way back to the room that used to house his little sister.

"Okay, Mom's dealing with director and is willing to grab dinner of your choice if you'll-" Mike trails off at the sight of your empty bed, worry prickling through and tainting the annoyance rising in his chest. He calls your name, turning to look for you before his ears tune in on the shower running in the bathroom. He sighs, placing the items on your bedside table and making his way to the living room. All is well until about ten minutes after the water shuts off, when he heard a small but sure 'thud' ring from the room.

"Honey?" He called. Nothing.

He rises from his chair, his mind trying to remind himself to stay calm and not jump to its automatic thoughts of harm and anxiety as he walked quickly to the door.

"If you don't answer I'm coming in," he warned. The quiet groan on the otherside is all he needed to quickly open the unlocked door, trying not to panic as he catches sight of you curled up on the floor with your head between your knees.

"I'm fine," you said quietly. "Got dizzy." Your clothes are thrown on haphazardly and it's clear how disoriented you are. Your hair doesn't even look properly washed.

Mike's arms are comforting, familiar and protective as he carefully lifts you up, taking you to the couch as though you weigh nothing to him. When his mind is racing like this, you may as well not.

"What were you thinking?" He asked in a panicked voice. "I told you you weren't going."

"My director hates me and tech is like, our biggest practice. I can't miss," you insisted, barely able to stand the light shining through the open windows. The couch is cool against your skin, the old leather offering relief. Mike had brought it home a few years back, a surprise he'd found at a thrift store with your help. Still pricey but a Christmas gift for everyone in the house. Your mother shook her head as she finally agreed maybe the couch that was as old as her needed to be replaced.

"Your mom is dealing with her and she's gonna deal with you next if you don't listen to either of us," Mike said. He ran back to your room, collecting the items and returning to your side before you could even respond. "Can you just let us take care of you?"

Oh. Oh. Fine, okay. There it is. He hears it now, that point your mother had just been making.

As the thermometer takes longer than he'd like to beep, he sighs at the sight of you looking like death on the couch. "You get this attitude from me," he finally sighed. You raise your brow quizzically, waiting for him to continue. A soft noise emits from the device. Mike takes it from your mouth and scowls at the number that flashes back at him. He hands you a now room temperature cup of throat coat tea with three ibuprofen to help with the fever before he takes your hand.

"Did I tell you about the time your mother had to drag me to the emergency room for stitches on my forehead?" He asked, smiling. You snort, taking another sip of your drink. "It happened when you were little. I don't even think you were two. Abby was going out with this idiot and figured out how to take out the screen in her window so she could sneak out without any of us knowing. This girl was bad news, I mean-"

"Aunt Abby?" You asked.

"What? No. No, the girl she was going out with, Lisa Browning. Had her come home with a belly button piercing once, I wasn't happy about that. Anyways, Abby decided that she was going to this party one night and I'd found her bed empty halfway through the night while I was going to check on you. Well, I decided I was gonna wait for her in her room with the lights off until she got home. So I sat in front of her window and eventually got tired, so I shut my eyes. Figured it couldn't hurt. Took a couple hours, but eventually your mother woke up and my side of the bed was empty and she heard this loud as fuck noise from your aunts room. This is like four in the morning, mind you," he said. "So she jumped out of bed and heard your aunt yelling, saw some guy in dark clothes on the floor, open window and the lights are off, and she's still wiping sleep out of her eyes."

"Oh no," you groaned.

"Oh yes. Grabbed some metal Eiffel Tower thing on Abby's desk and just swung at my head. Hurt like a bitch," he laughed, you joining in as much as you could without hurting your throat. "It was a good hit. I think she realized it was me when I grabbed her ankle and hollered her name cause she stopped right after that. Wasn't too bad, but I wouldn't stop bleeding."

"So did Abby get in trouble?" You asked.

"Are you kidding? I was even more pissed, I chased her down the hallway after her girlfriend climbed in and fell on top of me. I was ready to kill her. Your mother had to drag me and her into the car, go back and grab you and deal with us screaming at each other all the way to the hospital. Not that I wanted to go, I was fine with just pressing a dishcloth to the thing and carrying on with my plan to rip my sister a new one. She had to threaten us both to actually get me inside, and I only conceded because I was too dizzy to object by that point. I think the nurses assumed she was insane. I mean, kid on her hip, dressed in pajamas with some drunk teenager bickering with a guy bleeding from his head at the crack of dawn. I'm surprised no one called the cops. They did have to almost seperate Abby and I, though. Which just upset me more."

"How did they get you to calm down?" You asked.

"Your mother handed you to me while she walked Abby to a bathroom so she could take a go at her. And you were all upset anyways because I wasn't paying attention to you and you didn't understand why the nurses were fuckin' with me or why I was upset. Once I had you in my arms I refocused, calmed down a good bit. Someone brought me a book to read you and we got to focus on that while they prepped me for stitches," he said the last part softly. "I was so glad when Abby got out of her teen rebellion phase."

"She ruined mine," you joked.

"Yeah. She used pretty much every trick in the book, so we were ready for you. Sorry," he said.

"It's fine, I don't like parties."

"I don't either."

Mike's phone buzzed in his pocket. He checked it, typing a quick response before refocusing on you. "Your mother wants to know what you're thinking for dinner," he said.

"Chinese?" You asked.

"That comes from your mom's side," he smiled. "She'll be pleased."

¤▪︎{♧}▪︎¤

Short but sweet. This was a fun one :)

Taglist:

@jhutchissupercool @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 . Thank you for your support! <3

Masterlist

[iknowyuu]

missed your kiss

txt choi line! (seperate) x reader

// when reader denies their kiss

tags: gender neutral reader, neck kisses (if you know my works then this is a given for u), joking-anger, mentions of clowns and circus as a joke, txt and reader share an apartment

note: sorry omg i havent posted in a bit !! i hit a stump recently but i think im getting out of it <3 this took forever to write so i hope u enjoy !!! barely proofread this btw

♡

✧ beomgyu

you intertwined your fingers with him, tugging his hand, attempting to bring him closer to you. "come awnnn, beomgyuuu," he pulled his hand away from yours, crossing his arms as you followed him out of the bedroom and into the parlor. "i said i was sorry!" you tapped his shoulder jokingly as he made his way to the couch, slouching in his seat. he didn't spare you a glance as used his arm to search around for the remote of the television, only giving up after barely five seconds.

you giggled at his antics and sat down beside him. "please forgive me," you leaned forward to get a better look at his face, watching as he turned his head to the side. "it threw my whole day off.." he stated through his pout. "ah, really?" you sat up in mock-surprise, an idea suddenly popping in your head. "then i'm really, reeaallyyy sorry, gyu," you grasped his hand with both of yours, brining them up to your lips to press a soft kiss to it, "my apologies, prince beomgyu,"

he couldn't help the smile the crawled onto his lips at your joke, scoffing at you before leaning into you, "fiiine, i forgive you." you giggle at him and kiss his cheek, bringing your feet up to the couch as he wraps an arm around your shoulder.

"uh, gyu? where's the remote?" he shrugged. "i don't know, but i don't need any television because i've got you. you're way nicer to look at." he looks over to you, maintaining eye contact as you tried to hide your smile. "aww, beomgyu!" you cooed at him before he spoke up again, "because you're as entertaining as the circus! y'know, being a clown and all." your smile dropped. "yah." you responded sharply.

✧ soobin:

you practically flew off the couch when you heard the familiar three knocks at the front door. “coming!” you yelled, scrambling to the door and opening it. “hiii, soobs!!” you smiled as he leaned in to hug you, swinging you from side to side "hi," he responded through his smile.

you hadn’t seen him properly for around two weeks; lately he always goes to sleep before you, as gets up before you do to all his promotions following the new comeback. it's been hard for the both of you, and since today marked the end of them, you'd planned to spend the night together in your shared apartment.

however, as hours went by, you noticed that he always found some way to avoid your lips; as the two of you were cooking dinner, you hugged him and he placed his chin on your shoulder; when you were watching a movie, you made a kissy face, expecting him to place his lips on yours, but he kissed your cheek instead; in bed, you tilted your head up and leaned into him as he swerved.

finally, as you were laying on his chest and about to fall asleep, you attempted one last time and he turned his head- yeah, you've had enough. "yah, soobin!" you sat up and glared at him. "why won't you kiss me!?"

"oh," he peeked an eye open, "you can go a day without a kiss, can't you?"

you were suddenly thrown back to a conversation the two of you had hours ago, around six in the morning.

"please, [name]-ie?" he frowned at you as he held your waist, already leaning in for a kiss before you pushed him by his chest. "nooo! you're gonna be late! this is the last day, isn't it? you can go a day without a kiss," it was the only day you managed to wake up just as he was leaving, but it wasn't much help, seeing as he had to leave now. you removed his arms from you, pushing him out the door. "bye, babe!" he pouted at you and let out a very measly "bye," before you closed the door and waddled back to bed.

you scrunched your eyebrows at him and frowned. "really?" you couldn't contain your shocked laughter at his response. "i didn't want you to be late!" he shrugged, "i would gladly be late if it meant an extra kiss from you," he stated, not bothering to open his eyes.

you rolled your eyes at him and jokingly scowled at him. "fine." you turned away from him and slept with your back to him, pulling the covers to your shoulder, fully expecting this to turn into a game of who-can-last-longer. however, you were barely away from him for a minute till he scooted closer behind you, wrapping arms around your stomach, spooning you. "sorry," he leaned down to leave butterfly kisses at the back of your neck. you giggled and turned around to face him. "switched up so fast."

he smiled, "only for you," he shifted to place his lips on yours.

✧ yeonjun

"aah! i'm gonna be late!" you rushed towards the door with only a single shoe on your foot, the other in your hand as you turned the knob. "bye, honey! i'm leaving for work!"

you heard scattering feet as the man you called your boyfriend ran up to you. "yah, wait up!" he helped you open the door and you almost turned to run out, but he stopped you, gently holding your cheeks, "love you."

you pried his fingers of your face, instead opting to kiss his fingers "love you too! i gotta go!" you rushed out the door, and in a hurry, slammed it behind you unintentionally. yeonjun stood there in shock and couldn't help the laugh that escaped his mouth.

you didn't have much time to check your phone during your busy day, but if you did, you'd have noticed your boyfriend didn't text you all day. unlike usually, where he'd constantly check up on you when he could.

when you got home, you were met with a very frowny boy. "jun! i'm home!" you called out as you stepped out of your work shoes and into your slippers. you heard his response, listening for him as he took relaxed steps toward you. "do you wan-" you barely got to greet him before he held your cheeks and placed your soft lips with his own, tilting your head to the side, deepening the connection. the two of you stood like that for several seconds before he pulled away. "hey," he finally responded before walking away. you were left standing there in shock. “you can’t just do that to me and expect me to not want more!” you yelled after him, smiling at the way his laugh rang through the apartment.

[riacte]

Space Opera AU dashboard simulator 2 (but there's plot if you squint) (probably worse than its predecessor)

🚀 renthepilot

HAPPY BITRHDAY TO ME!! I TURN 7!!! :D :D :D <3 <3 <3 RD

❤️ falsewell

Happy 7th birthday Ren! :)

🚀 renthepilot

Thank u FalsE!!!!!! :DDDDDD >.< RD

🍵 cinnamontea Follow

... Why is my 17yo ET1blr mutual talking to a 7yo on Sunblr. I came here for analysis posts but apparently she's babysitting her cousin or perhaps a strangely intelligent dog??

❤️ falsewell

I mean, I would be worried if a 7yo was piloting the glider I race in 🤨

🍵 cinnamontea Follow

WDYM THAT GUY IS YOUR RACE PARTNER? OMFG I AM SO SORRY

🍀 et1vision Follow

Chat do you remember when we found RK and QoH's Sunblr accounts from when they weren't famous and were just two kids in illegal races. Because it was hysterical. Hands up if you thought falsewell was someone's canon url and not QoH herself.

🪓 handoftheking

That interaction was pretty cute to be honest. Ren's still 7 the last I checked.

🪸 hoes4redking Follow

[deep sigh] littlewood at the scene of the crime as always

#WHYYYYYYY is he chronically online #he needs to be stopped and locked up #i bet he scrolls through the treebark tag every day #he knows Too Much #do you think he brings up sunblr during dinner #and etho and bigb look at him like hes insane

7,207 notes

🔥 yaoihell Follow

save me queen of hearts

🔥 yaoihell Follow

queen of hearts

🔥 yaoihell Follow

queen of hearts save me

🏐 apollos-dodgeball 🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀 Follow

Congratulations on the prophecy!

[Beep boop, this is a gimmick blog!]

🔥 yaoihell Follow

what the actual fuck.

🌼 fast-and-bifurious Follow

i think i hauve the plague

47,981 notes

🫐 toxicblueberry Follow

hi babes the demons in my head won so new fic!!

i'm your biggest fan, i'll follow you until you love me, pa-pa paparazzi

pairing: the red king x blue stalker (they/them) (exterra 1 rpf)

summary: why are you as a bounty hunter so intent on hunting ren down? what do you want to do with him? pin him against a wall and kiss him until he's breathless and melting like putty in your hands?

word count: 10.1k

tags: enemies to lovers, angst, hurt no comfort, whump, ust, no actual smut, making out, blood, slight knifeplay, submissive rk, open ending

Keep reading

🏹 queenofheartsfanclub Follow

Listen, I don't do RPF, I can handle Treebark (because I have eyes), but this is crossing a line. Especially after the accusations by RK. I think his evidence is pretty compelling.

🫐 toxicblueberry Follow

dead dove do not eat. i am aware this is a fucked up dynamic but it's fictional. it's not like the real blue stalker has a toxic codependent attraction to the guy they're assigned to kill (btw i mained qoh so i completely understand where you're coming from)

🫐 toxicblueberry Follow

oh.

🏹 queenofheartsfanclub Follow

hey

so do you wanna kiss before the haters get to you?

🫐 toxicblueberry Follow

of course. can we get married

#love can be found on the battlefield in more ways than one #fave post #annoying treebark fans fuck off!!!!!!

1109 notes

🌹 fyeahroseduo Follow

Coming out as a falsedog shipper is harder than coming out as gay

🦇 starshipspachelbel Follow

TEN YEARS????

Time is not real

🌃 nightpatrols Follow

I had vivid flashbacks. I feel faint. This post caused so much drama omfg. I need a treebark equivalent on my desk by 8am sharp next morning

🪓 handoftheking

Coming out as a Treebark shipper is harder than coming out as bi

🌃 nightpatrols Follow

WHAT THE FUFHUBFBFUOUOFFUCK

#HES IN OUR WALLS #HE STARTED THE SHIP #this is gonna sweep the next unhinged moment poll #??!?1!?!???!?!?! #HATE THIS LUMIAN GLOWY ASS #btw for non et1 mutuals: this man is literally bi #yeah hes really gay for his pilot. yeah we all know #theyre always holding hands and shit #edit: DID HE REBLOG THIS AT 7:30AM #IDK HOW PLANETZONES CONVERSATION WORKS #*conversion #listen i failed school 2 years in a row ok 😭

19,626 notes

🎵 daily-music Follow

Music video of the day is: R8cer Boi by Avril Lavigne!

🎵 daily-music Follow

who the fuck is renn dog

🎵 daily-music Follow

who has little wood

🎵 daily-music Follow

why are y'alls twink racers larping as royals from medieval era planet earth

🎵 daily-music Follow

sorry for calling the queen of hearts a twink. im sorry women

#im so done with yalls bullshit #who are these people #why do they show up in my tags

898 notes

[yuyu1024]

We still have 15mins

Pairings: Jongho x Y/N

Genre/tags: secret relationship

Warning: 🔞 smut/angst, cursing, pet names, mention of alcohol/drinking, smoking, jealousy

~~~ [lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 1.3k

Disclaimer:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

Note: last one for the short one shots/drabbles. This was the last one i posted before the whole 'i deleted my acct issue' 😭 ughh now... thank you for all the likes and reblogs btw.

Will try to post more when inspiration comes and have a break at work and my sideline 😅

***

Your department all went out last night to celebrate one of your team's birthday. Every one had a drink and had a blast doing karaoke, particularly you. You rarely go out to party since you are always in the office doing work. And during your free time its either you are at home sleeping or visiting your sister who just gave birth a few months ago to help.

"There she is!" Your friend, Han says as you approach your desk beside him. "The main event!" He is teasing you from last night. You had quite a drink so you sang your heart out like younare having a solo concert last night.

"Stop!" You cover your face embarassed.

"I didn't know you could last that long..." he adds

"I didn't either." You sit on your chair, still giggling.

"Next time... when we are free again. Let's go another round! I will have to battle you. I just got drunk early so I didn't got the chance to sing more."

"Sure! Why not? Let's see who will last long..." You agree

"Last long... on what?"

Both you and Han stiffens as you both heard his voice.

"Ahm, sir?" Han slowly turns around, smiling.

It's your boss, Jongho. The owner of the company you are working at.

"What are you guys talking about? Is it related to work?"

You roll your eyes, "Sir... it's not yet 8am..."

Han's eyes widens. "Yah... what are you doing?" He mouths

"I see..." Jongho snorts a laugh but it sounded irritated.

"Y/N, come to my office." He turns his back to both of you. "Now." He orders

Han panicks and starts nagging you. "Why did you talk back? Oh my gosh! I hope he does not fire you or what! Omg Y/N!"

You smile at him, "Don't worry... he will not fire me. We are not being lazy at work. We arrived 30mins ahead of time... plus we are only talking about our karaoke last night.nothing suspecious..." you stand up and grab your notebook and pen. "Plus... he'll not survive without me. I sort all his schedule and reports." You wink at your friend. "He needs me."

You bravely walk towards his office at the end of the suit. Pushing the heavy wooden double doors, you see him standing near the window, looking outside.

"Close the door." He says

You did as he says. Then you strut your way towards his desk.

"What can I do for you, sir?" You say with a tone like he didn't just asked you to come in after talking back at him.

He breathe a small smile. "You're a dare devil... talking back to me..." he turns to face you. His arms crossed over his chest.

"Well... you are acting up. Han and I were just ta--"

"Han and I...?" he repeats your words. "You two... are close?"

"We are. He's a nice person. And funny..."

His expression changes. He snarls at your answer. "Y/N... are you trying to make me jealous?"

"No...but... are you?" You ask, smirking.

He inhales and exhales. He's trying to control his senses and thoughts. "Don't mess with me... you know the consequences if you do..."

If he could use his position in your work to taunt you or make you do things with his order, you can too play the same game with him by using your charm and making him jealous.

"And what if... I know..." you say as you put your pen and notebook on his desk, leaning forward a bit making sure he sees you are wearing something sexy under that blazer you are wearing. "And I don't care... what will you do?"

The push up bra that your sister gifted you last christmas came to handy today.

"Come here." He orders

You gladly walked around his desk, to stand in front of your boss who is also your boyfriend, that no one knows.

"You are being so naughty..." he cups your face and then kisses you on the lips.

"Coz I could sense that my CEO has been wanting my attention so bad at work lately..." you move forward, making sure there are no space between you two. "See...he's already hard and wanting me." You add as you palm his hard erection.

"I do want my girl's attention so bad..." he hums as he kisses you on the neck. "But she's busy talking to other guys... and I don't like that..."

You giggle as you find Jongho so cute when he's jealous and needy for your attention. "You know your my only man right..." you caress his erection even more as he trail kisses on your exposed skin. "You're the only man I love..."

"Ugh..." he hisses as your hand continues to tease his bulge, squeezing it lightly even. "Fuck." He hisses, moving his pelvis along your rythm.

"Do you want my help?" You ask watching him close his eyes, feeling every touch and caress you give him.

"I have a meeting at 8am sharp."

"We still have 15mins." You grin then pushing him to his chair. "Spread your legs..." you order as you take your blazer off revealing the v-neckline top you are wearing that shows a very good amount of cleavage.

"Fuck Y/N...." he is already breatheless just by watching you man handle him. He likes it when you take control. "Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!"

He is so sensitive and excited at the same time.

When you unzip his trousers and pull out his thick length, you could see and hear him already moaning under his breathe by just the vision of you holding his dick and pumping him.

"Shall we talk about your schedule for todag while I pump you or... do you want me to..." you pause and run your tongue from the base to the tip of his cock, also licking the pre-cum. "Fuck you with my mouth."

"Fuck the schedule!" He snarls, throwing his head back. "Y/N... I want your mouth..."

You smile, "Okay sir..."

You take his whole thick length in your mouth. You make sure that every inch is wet and tasted. You swirl your tongue around him, feeling every vein and roughness of it. You are getting high just by the fullness his cock is giving you.

"Holy shit.... nggghuuuhhh..." he is on heaven right now. He is sweating bullets everytime you suck him. "Sweetie, your so fucking good."

You like it when he compliments you. It's making you to do well and more.

You bop your head in a rythm that is making him go insane. His tip reaching the back of your throat and the warmness of your mouth is making his length twitch and ready to explose.

"Fuck! Sweetie, I'm.... aaaahh nggguuuuhhhhh..." he's about to come. Although he wants you to swallow, he can't risk it at the office. He moved so quickly and grab the nearest tissue and pulls out and let himself come into his hand.

You are giggling watching him empty himself in his hand, "that's quite a lot." You wipe the corner of your mouth. "Next time... I would love to have all of that be inside me..."

"Don't worry, Sweetie." He grunts cleaning his length. "Tonight... you can have all of me in you..." he smirks.

"I can't wait." You say as you start to fix yourself up. "Or maybe later? Lunch break?"

He frowns. "I thought I have a scheduled meeting at lunch right?"

"Well..." you lean in for another kiss whilst you voluntarily fix his trouser, zipping it as well. "I had your meeting booked at this restaurant... the same hotel that we first...you know..." you trail off

"Perfect." He smiles, grabbing a handful of your ass. "See you later at lunch then."

[measuredingold]

heaven sent

authors note: after a month off, i've finally finished my noah piece :) this is my first on tumblr, second one all together (there's one on my ao3). this was a request a friend of mine made a month or so ago, and i'm happy to finally get it out for them. briefly proofread, sorry for any mistakes. as always, enjoy and feedback is appreciated :) my requests are open btw! i'm also working on tag-list, so if you'd like to be added please send me a message :)

pairing: noah sebastian x reader

cross-posted on ao3

word count: 6.8k

cw/tags: slight friends to lovers, readers first time, realization of ~feelings~, fingering, cunnilingus (noah is a munch), p in v, protected sex (be safe!!!!! wrap it up folks!!!), fluff, maybe slight angst if you really squint, loads of tension, noah being a sweetheart, open ending, 18+ minors do not interact

You stare at Noah’s door, nerves bubbling inside of you. It was silly to be nervous - Noah was your best friend. You’ve lived with him for the last three years, known him even longer, and you’ve asked him plenty of favors in the time you’ve spent with him. However, this time was a lot different. 

Navigating your 20’s was something you were still figuring out. Establishing your career, finding a friend group that you trusted, and even dating was all so confusing. You’ve gotten the career down, and you think you got a pretty solid group of friends, but romantic relationships are still something that you can’t seem to get. 

You’ve been on dates, that wasn’t the hard part. The hard part was when things got… intimate. You’re embarrassed to say it, but you were still a virgin. It wasn’t like you were waiting for that special someone, it just never happened. You’d either get to that point and chicken out, or never even make it out of the kissing stage. At this point you just wanted it done and over with, but you couldn’t just do it with anyone. 

That’s where Noah came in.

You trusted him more than you trusted yourself, you think, and your other friends told you that if you just wanted to get it done and over with, do it with someone you won’t regret. 

You don’t think you’d regret Noah. 

With a shaky hand you reach up and knock on his door, the music from inside pausing. You hear shuffling and the twist of the doorknob, and there stood Noah. He smiles. 

“Didn’t know you were home,” He swings the door open and goes back over to his desk, falling into his chair. “What’s up?”

You don’t move, just stand in the doorway, your nerves intensifying. Shit.

He looks over at you after a moment of silence, and his brows furrow, lips pursing slightly. 

“Hello? Everything alright?”

You shake yourself out of your trance and shift on your feet, arms crossing over your chest. 

“Can I ask you something?” You bite down on your lip. “Like… a favor?”

Noah’s head tilts. “…What kind of favor?”

“A pretty big one.” You can’t help but smile sheepishly at the way Noah’s eyes narrow at you before his gaze softens, realizing your nerves, and he nods towards his bed. You walk over and sit down without a word.

He rolls his chair over to you as you pull your legs up under yourself, hands laid in your lap, and he reaches for them. You jump at the touch, and he frowns, but he doesn’t let go.

“What’s going on? Is everything alright?” His eyes narrow again. “…Do you need me to fight someone? I’m not really good at that, but I’ll try.” 

You can’t help but laugh before dropping your gaze from his, looking down at your hands intertwined together.

"No, no fighting is involved."

"Oh, thank fuck. You know I'm not much of a fighter." You laugh again but it falls short, the nerves resurfacing again. Noah's lips dip into a frown. "Seriously, what's up?"

You pull your hands from his to wipe them against your pants, sighing deeply. How do you even bring this up? You practiced a script in your head for hours before even standing in front of his door, but now that you're in his room, and he's sitting right in front of you, it's like you've forgotten everything you wanted to say.

"You can't laugh." You finally say. "And you can say no. It's... a stupid favor, anyways, but you're one of the few people I wholeheartedly trust, so..." Your words trail off with a shrug and you look up at Noah again, seeing confusion written all over his face.

"You're acting weird again." His head tilts again and you keep in your laughter this time. He looks like a confused puppy. "Did you do something illegal?" His eyes widen a bit as he leans in. "...Are you in trouble? Am I going to be an accomplice? You know I wouldn't do good in jail, dude."

"Oh my god, Noah." Your hands come up to rub at your face, laughter spilling out of you. "I'm not in trouble and no one's going to jail."

"Then what is it? You're acting like it's something crazy."

"Because it is!" You whine, falling back onto his bed. Your eyes stare up at the ceiling, arms resting on either side of your body. "And it's fucking embarrassing."

"I've known you for like 6 years, I think I've seen every embarrassing thing you've done."

You hear his chair squeak and feel the bed dip beside you, but you don't bother looking over. You feel his body, heat radiating off of him, and you suck in a breath at the close proximity. You truly were never bothered by being close to Noah, but ever since you've thought of your silly request, just the thought of touching him has your head reeling. He lays beside you, propping himself up on his elbow. You manage to sneak a glance at him and he's already staring down at you, lips pursed.

"Talk to me."

You pout. "I'm nervous."

"Oh, please." He reaches down to flick at your forehead, and you yelp, eyes slitting into a glare at your friend. "It's just me."

You sigh, gazing back up at the ceiling. "Alright. Just... Please promise not to laugh. And remember you can say no."

"Got it. Now, what is it?"

"So..." You hum, eyes falling shut. "You know how I'm still like... I've never had sex with anyone?"

"Yes." Noah says. "Still shocked, by the way, but I support you. It's not for everyone and we all go at our own pace."

You flush at his words, eyes opening to stare at him again. "Why're you shocked?"

He shrugs. "Just am, but it’s not a bad thing. Like I said everyone goes at their own pace.”

"Right." You clear your throat. "It's not like I don't want to do it, it's just... it's never happened. I think..." Your eyes fall shut again, not being able to look at him anymore. "Anna said I might be one of those people that just need to do it with someone I already know. Someone I trust, so it's not as scary."

"Hm..." Noah shifts next to you. "You could be. That's not really unheard of, a lot of people are more comfortable having sex with someone they're already comfortable with."

"Yeah, right." You suck in a breath. "Well... I've been thinking about it recently. And um..." You reach up and cover your face with your hands, trying to hide the deepening flush to your cheeks. "I was thinking about who I trust enough to do that with and... I trust you more than anyone else. Probably even more than myself."

The silence that follows is almost deafening. You're sure it took him a moment to register his words and you know the second he does, the bed shifting beside you. Noah sits up and you can feel his eyes boring into you, and it makes your skin crawl. You can't pull your hands away from your face, too scared to even look at him. 

It was such a crazy thing to throw out there, you knew that. What's the worst he could say? No? Your mind kept replaying that over and over again and yeah, the worst he could say was no. However, you feared that maybe you asking him of this would make things awkward. You knew it wasn't a friendship ending type risky, but it was enough to maybe make the next few weeks stiff and weird. 

"Are you..." Noah pauses and you hear him suck in a breath. "Are you asking to have sex with me?"

"God, when you say it like that it sounds so fucking weird." 

By better judgement you pull your hands away from your face to look up at Noah, expecting the worse. Though, it's not bad at all actually. He looks confused, definitely, but he doesn't look too uncomfortable. His gaze is still soft as his eyes meet yours. 

"Why me?" He sounds shocked, as if there should be a hundred other options before him. 

"Well. I live with you, and you're my best friend." You say simply and shrug. "You're also the only person in this world I trust enough to be... vulnerable like that with. For my first time, at least."

He nods, tongue darting out to swipe as his bottom lip and your eyes can't help but follow the movement. Something low in your stomach stirs, heat rushing through you, and you tear your eyes away to gaze into his again. 

"You can say no," You remind him quickly, moving to sit up across from him. "It's a crazy favor. I won't take it to heart."

"I..." His words trail off and his lips press together, looking off to the side. "I don't know if we should." 

For some reason your heart sinks to your stomach. A part of you knew he would say no and knew that was the worst thing he could say, but there was some other part of you that clung on to the possibility. You just wanted to get it over with and you were hoping that maybe he would help you out... but you still understand his hesitancy.

"Of course, yeah." You nod your head quickly, face heating up again. "I shouldn't have even asked; I don't know what I was thinking."

"No-"

You get up from his bed and rush towards his door. "Forget it, okay? I'm sorry for making it weird."

You don't bother looking back at Noah, slipping out his door and practically running to your room across the hall, shutting your door behind you.

…

Later that night while you were getting ready for bed, Noah slips into your room. You freeze, turning to look at him as he stands in your door frame, wringing his hands in front of him nervously. 

“Okay. I thought about it some more.” 

You pause. “About what?”

“About… what you asked me.” Your skin heats up at his words and you start to shake your head, but he holds a hand up to stop you. “I’m really fucking flattered that you trust me that much to even consider me a possibility and… and if you still want to, I’ll do it. If it’ll make you happy.” 

The silence that follows was brutal. You weren’t sure how to take it, especially with the way Noah was looking at you. He seemed nervous, almost like you had been earlier, and it has something inside of your fluttering. Like a bunch of butterflies had been set free inside your tummy all at once. 

You swallow. “What?”

"I don't know, I just." He leans against the doorframe now, arms crossing over his chest. "The more I thought about it, the more it made sense. Being vulnerable can be hard, especially during sex, and... part of me wishes my first time was with someone I trusted."

You stay silent, eyeing Noah from across the room and he finally looks up, eyes meeting yours. He gives you a gentle smile and goosebumps rise across your skin.

"Really?" You say dumbly and he laughs.

"Yeah." He shrugs. "I mean, do I regret it? Not really, but I think it would've made the experience better if it had been with someone I trusted and maybe had known longer than a few weeks." He slowly makes his way towards your bed and sits down on it, patting the spot next to him. Your feet move before you can even think, settling down next to him. "I also want your first time to be good. I know too many people whose first times were shitty, and I don't want that for you. If... if it's with me, I'll be able to make sure you're enjoying it, and not just doing it to say you did."

You notice the subtle flush on his cheeks, and you can't help but smile.

"I just need to know that this is really what you want because there's no going back after this." 

He reaches out to place a hand against your thigh, and you know it was supposed to be soothing, but the burning feeling it left against you was almost too much to handle. You nod quickly, eyes never leaving his.

"If I didn't want this I wouldn’t have asked, Noah." You say softly. "I've thought about it a lot and... and if I were to choose anyone in the entire world to do this with, it would be you."

Something in the air shifts after the words leave your mouth and you swear you see something cross in Noah's eyes, but it's gone before you could even think about it. You feel his fingers dip into your thigh for a split second before loosening, rubbing the spot he had dug into. 

"You're one hundred percent sure about this?" He asks, voice barely above a whisper. 

You stare at him for a moment before your eyes linger down to his lips, before flicking back up to him. He noticed but didn't say a word, hand still rubbing your thigh. You nod. 

"Yes."

"Okay." He sucks in a deep breath after a moment and pulls away from you, the moment you two shared slipping away. Your stomach turns, almost missing the contact, but you scoot a bit from him anyways. "Okay, cool. Do you work this weekend?"

You raise a brow at him, head shaking. "No. Why?"

"I'm free most of Saturday and Sunday, so we could... uh, do it then."

"Oh." Your eyes widen. "You want to wait?"

"I mean, yeah. Us doing it now would be weird, right?" You think about it briefly before nodding. It would be odd to just dive into it now, you don't think you'd enjoy it that much. "This gives us time to... prepare? I don't know. Be less nervous? And it gives you a few days to really think about it."

You rolled your eyes playfully, but your heart swells in size at how concerned Noah was, making sure you were completely okay with your decision. 

"I've thought about it for almost a week now. I think I'm sure."

“Alright, no need to get fucking sassy with me.” He leans over to flick at your forehead, like he had done earlier, and you swat at his hand.

“I’m not even being sassy!”

“Whatever, dude.” Noah finally gets up from your bed and looks down at you, brows raising. “So, next weekend?”

“Um. Yeah. Next weekend.” You clear your throat, trying to come off as nonchalant as possible, and Noah nods.

“Alright. Cool.” He looks like he wants to say something else, lips pressing together before he shrugs it off, making his way towards the door. “Does pizza sound good for tonight?”

You blink. “Huh?”

“Pizza.” He looks over his shoulder. “For dinner?”

“Oh.” You blink again, the sudden change in conversation taking you for a loop and you push yourself up off the bed. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Awesome. I’ll go ahead and order it and let you know when it’s here.”

You watch him slip out of your room, listening to his footsteps down the hall, and something in your tummy stirs as the realization of what’s happening finally settles in. What the hell did you just get yourself into?

…

You sat in the middle of your bed late Saturday evening, staring up at Noah as he stood at the end of your bed. You were still nervous, but not as nervous as you had been almost a week ago. Noah had been right - the more you thought about it and prepared yourself, the less scared you seemed to be. You can't lie and say all the nerves have gone away, because they sure as hell haven't, but looking at Noah right now, all you feel is comfort. 

"Feeling alright?" Noah's voice breaks you from your thoughts and you give him a small nod.

"Yeah." You hum, your hands spreading against your thighs. They were bare, the only thing you had on were some sleep shorts and an oversized shirt you typically slept in - probably Noah's. "Just nervous."

Noah gives you a smile as he crawls onto the bed towards you, your heart picking up under your chest. 

"It's okay to be nervous." He mumbles, sitting on his knees in front of you. You still have to tilt your head up just to look at him. "But it's just me, okay? I'll take care of you. I promise."

His words have your stomach turning, like a bunch of butterflies have just been released. Your skin heats up and you're sure your cheeks are flushed some sort of light pink, and Noah leans forward, his lips ghosting against your forehead. You take a deep breath and let your eyes flutter shut at the feeling, trying to ease your nerves.

"At any time you want to stop, you tell me, okay?" He says once he pulls back, hand coming up to rest beneath your chin, tilting your head back up. Your eyes open. "If it becomes too much, I need you to tell me. This is about you - not me. No egos will be shattered or anything."

"Okay."

"If it's alright with you, we can do the stop light method." He hums, hand never leaving your face. "Red for stop, yellow for slow down, and green for keep going."

You stare at him, eyes already glossed over in a haze, and you nod in his hold. "I trust you."

He pauses, eyes scanning over your face one more time before he leans in again, lips pressing against your forehead more firmly. Your eyes slip shut once again and you lean into it, savoring it. You miss the feeling of his lips against your skin when he pulls away, letting his hand drop.

"Lean back for me."

You scoot up the bed and lean back, the back of your head pressing against your pillow. Noah stares down at you before nudging your legs open gently, leaning forward to hover over you. Your heart is thudding so loudly against your chest it's the only thing you can hear, and you swear Noah can too. And you suspect that he does, especially with the way his lips quirk up at the ends before his eyes catch yours.

"Just relax, okay?" His voice is much lower now and it has something in the pit of your stomach heating up, skin tingling. "You're in good hands."

"Promise?"

Usually you would tease him, since that was the nature of your relationship, but right now you feel too vulnerable. You need to know that you'll be okay with him, which you're sure you will, but hearing him say it out loud just makes you feel a little bit better.

His gaze softens. "I promise."

The look you two share has alarms going off in your mind, and your stomach turns in a way you've never felt before, yet you don't think you've ever felt safer in your life. You relax yourself against your bed, fingers gripping the sheets beneath you.

"Okay." You breathe out. "I trust you."

"Thank you." He actually sounds happy by your words, almost like he's proud, and he leans down, lips ghosting against the skin of your neck as he mumbles out, "I trust you, too."

You can't help the gasp that escapes you when he presses a handful of soft, barely there kisses along your neck. He has an arm propped up beside you to hold himself up, while the other is rested against your hip. He nudges your shirt up ever so slightly, the pads of his tattooed fingers brushing against your bare skin. By instinct your hands raise to reach for him, fingers tangling in his hair. You feel him press against you, a shaky breath leaving him and when the air hits your skin, you shiver.

Noah presses another kiss to your skin before he pulls back, sitting up on his knees. You stare up at him, lips parted as a gasp escapes you. The look in his eyes was almost too much, the usual softness in his brown eyes darkening. The hand that was on your hip pushed your shirt up more, letting it wrinkle up against your stomach.

"Can I take these off?" He questions, fingers now tugging at the waistband of your shorts.

You can only nod, words not being an option right now and your hips lift up on their own as he tugs your shorts down your legs. Your body shakes the second you're exposed, the only thing covering you now is your underwear. The cold air hits against your core and its damp, and you flush out of embarrassment. He's done nothing but kiss you and you're already wet. You try to shut your legs out of habit, but Noah was still seated between them.

"Hey," His voice is rough, but he leans down, meeting your eyes again. A hand rests against the top of your thigh, his fingers dipping dangerously close to the one spot you're aching for him to be. "You okay? You don't need to hide."

You nod again because nothing seems to come out and Noah shakes his head, hair moving around.

"Talk to me." 

Something in his tone has you shivering again, and you swallow. "I'm okay... just not used to this." 

"I understand." His eyes drop from yours down to his hand against your thigh, watching as he gently caresses the skin. You can't help but squirm when his fingers get a bit too close to where you want him, and he glances up at you, lips quirked up into a grin. "I promised to take care of you, and I'm going to."

"I know."

He doesn't respond, just gives you another grin before he slides his body down yours, nestling himself in between your legs. You've never had someone that close to that part of you before, the closest being a finger or two, and when Noah's tugging at the band of your underwear you have to look anywhere but him. Your hips rise off the bed, and you let him drag them down your legs, almost achingly slow, and your eyes lock onto the ceiling.

You're bare in front of him and just knowing that has your chest tightening, your throat closing up. Your fingers move back to the sheets beneath you, and you grip them tightly, squirming when you feel Noah's fingers drag up your thigh. You feel him shift, finger dragging closer and closer to your center, and then the brush of his lips against your inner thigh. You squeak.

“It’s okay.” He murmurs, so low you barely catch it. “Have you ever been fingered before?”

You nod, stiff and quick. “Mhm. Felt weird.”

“Probably because you were so tense.” Another quick kiss was pressed to the inside of your thigh. “Don’t worry, we’ll fix that.”

He starts off slow, a long, slender, tattooed finger sliding up and down your slit before he gently prods at your entrance. You suck in a breath when you feel him push in, body stiffening again. You've been fingered before, you're not that inexperienced, but it's always been uncomfortable. Not enjoyable. Noah senses your unease and presses a kiss to your hip, his free hand rubbing your thigh.

"Need you to relax, baby." His voice is muffled by your hip and the word baby has your entire body flushing. "It'll feel good when you do."

"How do I do that?" You whine out, fingers gripping the sheets. He pushes forward again, his finger now fully inside you. It feels... foreign. 

"Stop thinking so much." He lifts his head up and you sneak a glance down at him, his eyes blown wide, and lips pursed in a slight pout. "Think of something that relaxes you, because you're way too stiff right now."

You toss your head back against the pillow, huffing out, and Noah laughs softly to himself and scatters a few more kisses against your skin. Your eyes flutter shut at the feeling, body almost instantly melting into the mattress. 

"Keep doing that."

"Kissing you?" He mumbles, lips brushing over your hips again. You nod.

"Yes. Please."

"Atta girl," He mumbles, almost to himself when he pumps his finger inside of you, finally relaxing around him to make the action much easier than before. "I got you."

This goes on for a few minutes - soft, delicate kisses being placed along your skin as he worked a finger inside of you. As time went on, the odd and almost painful stretch from before became... pleasurable. You don't even notice the tiny noises slipping from your lips and your hips slowly rocking down to meet his finger.

"You think you can take another?"

You nod. A second finger slips in, and the stretch has you keening, back arching slightly off the bed. It wasn’t terrible, though. No, it felt good. So much better than your previous experiences. You clench around his fingers, and you hear Noah groan quietly, face pressing against the inside of your thigh to muffle the noise.

“Fuck.” You curse out when he picks his movements up, fingers now scissoring in and out of you.

“Feel good?” Noah sounds strained, like he’s trying to hold himself together even though you’re the one experiencing all the pleasure. You nod.

“Really fucking good.” You choke out, hips bucking down to meet his fingers. “Green. Please don’t stop.”

“I won’t, baby.” Noah mutters, not once letting up. “Doing so well for me.”

You practically purr at his words, your body warming up and feeling the fly all over. You’ve always been one to love a good bit of praise, and hearing it come from Noah was something you’d never imagined enjoying so much. A surprised gasp leaves you when you feel his thumb press against your clit, applying pressure while his fingers continued.

"You've ever been ate out before?"

Noah's words pull you away from the cloud you were just on, the pleasure coursing through your body. You whine, shifting your hips down to meet his fingers again but he stills his movements.

"No." You whimper. 

You wiggle your hips down to get some kind of friction, the heat that was beginning to pool in your tummy slowly slipping away. You hear Noah groan below you and he presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh, gently biting down on the soft plush of skin there.

"Can I be the first?" He breathes out, lips dancing across your skin. "Please. I'll make you feel so fucking good, I promise."

“Yeah,” You nod quickly, hips rolling down to gain some kind of friction again. “Please, just do something.”

That’s enough for him, diving headfirst between your thighs.

Noah leaves no mercy, his lips wrapping around your now swollen clit as his fingers begin moving inside you again. The feeling of his tongue wet and heavy against you and his long fingers pumping in and out of you has your eyes crossing, stars dancing around the edges of your gaze. You can't help but let another moan slip, hips bucking wildly. You feel Noah moan against you, angling his fingers up to press against something inside of you that's pulling an unexpected noise out of you, something mixed with a cry and a moan. You’ve never experienced pleasure like this before with another person.

The heat pooling in your returns much quicker than you thought and you feel yourself clench around his fingers, hips moving on their own accord. Noah moans again, tongue moving against you, and you swear you feel shifting at the end of the bed. You take a chance to glance down at Noah, pushing yourself up onto your elbows. You have to bite down on your bottom lip to hold in any noises and watch as Noah ruts his hips against the bed.

You’d never seen anything so insanely attractive before – Noah’s mouth working against you like a starved man and getting off on it to the point that he has to grind against the bed to get some kind of release. It’s enough to push you over the ledge, the heat in your stomach snapping and your cunt clenching around his fingers. You cry out, falling back onto the bed as your eyes squeeze shut. You’d experience orgasms before, but this was your first with another person, and it was probably the best damn orgasm you’ve ever had.

Noah doesn’t let up until you’re practically shaking, reaching down to curl your fingers into his hair and physically push him away. He laughs, light and airy, and turns his head to press a quick kiss to the side of your thigh before finally sitting up. You stare up at him with hooded eyes, his chest rising and falling heavily with each breath he took. You feel your heart pounding against your chest, ringing loudly in your ears as the realization of what just happened settles into your bones.

Noah just gave you one of the best orgasms of your life.

Your cheeks flush with color and before you could reach up and hide your face from him, he’s leaning down, hovering over you. You suck in a deep breath.

“Was that okay?” He questions softly, but you can hear the slight shake in his voice, and the look in his eyes was anything but soft.

You nod. “Better than okay.”

“Yeah?”

You watch a smile spread across his lips and find it hard to look anywhere but there, so you don’t, and you give him another nod.

“Do you wanna keep going?” He leans further down until your noses are barely touching and you’re doing everything in your power to pull him down and kiss the absolute fuck out of him.

You nod again, swallowing harshly. “Yes, please.”

He doesn’t say anything, just hums out a quiet noise of approval while brushing his nose against yours. You can’t stop yourself from smiling at the soft gesture while he sits up from the bed. You watch with hooded eyes as he pulls his shirt over his eyes and you let your gaze trail over him, not trying to hide the fact that you were indeed checking him out. You lived with him so of course you’ve seen him shirtless countless of times before, but now it was different. Much more intimate.

You pull your bottom lip in between your teeth as he’s pushing both his sweatpants and boxers down, crawling back towards you. You sit up and finally pull your shirt off as well, tossing it to the ground before lying back down, watching Noah reach over for the condom he had brought in with him, and you swallow down the nerves that were beginning to rise.

It’s now or never.

You meet his gaze again and the look he’s giving you, like he wants to devour you has a fire setting off inside of you. Your eyes drop to his achingly hard cock, watching as he rolls the condom on, and you squirm underneath him, fingers gripping the sheets below you. He grips his cock, long fingers wrapping around his length and your mouth practically waters at the sight.

You realize in that moment you’ve never wanted someone more than you do now, and that is definitely something you’ll have to unpack later. Right now, though, all you can think about is the way his slides the tip along your slit, teasing your entrance before pressing into your now sensitive clit. You whimper, hips wiggling down and Noah chuckles above you.

“Remember, red is for stop, yellow is for slow down, and green is for keep going. Okay?”

It takes you a minute to register his words, too focused on the way he looks above you, and you give a shallow nod. “Okay.”

“Good.”

Noah hikes your legs up around his waist and you circle them around him, unintentionally pulling him closer to you. The tip of his cock nudges against your entrance at that and you suck in a deep breath, eyes fluttering shut. He takes his time slipping in, going as slowly as he could, and you whine quietly, face scrunching up at the feeling. It was different than his fingers, much bigger, the stretch almost uncomfortable and not the same pleasurable feeling you had just moments before. You feel his body lean over yours when he finally presses in all the way, nose brushing against yours again.

“Look at me.”

You do, eyes opening to stare up at him. His voice sounded strained again, like he was holding himself back for you, and the look in his eyes has you melting into the bed. You stare up at him with wide eyes, not sure what to say, and he gives an experimental roll of his hips. You whine again, the stretch as his slide in and out of you has your back arching off the bed.

“Is this okay? Talk to me, baby.”

You give a small nod, another noise falling from your lips. “It’s okay, just… I’m yellow right now. Go slow, please.”

Noah let’s out a breath like he had been holding it and gave you a nod, giving another small roll of his hips before stilling inside of you. You have to shut your eyes because the way Noah was staring at you was almost too much, your chest feeling like a brick had been sat on it. You can’t believe that you were doing this, finally, and with your best friend no less.

He rests his arms on either side of you, leaning down to nose as your cheek before dipping his head down to press a few kisses against your neck. He nuzzled himself against you, letting one of his hands come down to rest against your hip, gently rubbing soothing circles against your skin.

“You’re already doing so good for me,” You hear him whisper, pressing another kiss to your neck. “Color?”

You flush, keening at his words and your back arches off the bed on its own, causing your hips to shift down and you fee his cock slide further inside of you. The head presses against that spot inside of you again and you let out an unexpected moan, pleasure finally sleeping through your veins. You clench around him, hips shifting down again, and he presses his face against your neck as a groan leaves him.

“Shit.” You breath out, hands coming up to card through his hair. “Green. I’m so fucking green.”

With another groan, Noah rolls his hips against yours and you moan again, eyes rolling back. The stretch of his cock no longer felt uncomfortable, pleasure coursing through you with each slow thrust Noah gives you. His lips never leave your skin, licking and biting at your neck with each roll of his hips.

He pulls back to press his forehead against yours, eyes boring into your own and you squeeze yours shut. Another moan leaves you as he gives a rather hard thrust, your fingers gripping the ends of his hair and tugging. He whimpers at the feeling and you tug again, wanting to hear those sounds fall from his lips more, and his movements speed up.

The heat you had felt in the pit of your tummy earlier was beginning to form again, warmth spreading through your chest. You open your eyes again just at the moment when Noah’s hand left your hip to slide in between both your bodies, rough fingers pressing against your swollen clit. Your mouth drops open, a loud moan escaping you. The feeling of his fingers rubbing against your clit as his cock slides in and out of you was enough to make your head spin.

“You like that, baby?” He breathes out, lips dangerously close to your own. You nod quickly, whining out instead of answering properly. “Come on, you know I need words.”

“Fuck.” You choke out, a mix of a cry and a moan leaving you. “Feels so good. Please, don’t stop.”

This spurs him on, another whimper slipping from his lips as his hips snap into your own, pace picking up. You clench around his cock, the tip hitting the spot inside of you over and over again. His fingers never let up against your clit either, matching the pace his thrusts and you swear you feel dizzy, eyes rolling back. You’ve never felt like this before, and you think you prefer his cock inside of you over his fingers, the feeling unbeatable.

Your mind races just at the thought of Noah doing this for you, making you feel like this, wanting to take care of you, and your throat tightens for some reason. Something from deep inside your chest twists and you get the overwhelmingly need to be as close as possible to Noah, your fingers gripping the ends of his hair again.

“Noah.” You whimper out, eyes burning with unexpected tears.

“What is it, baby?” He grits out, eyes never leaving yours. His gaze softens when he notices your eyes watering, hips stuttering for a moment. “Are you okay? Tell me a color.”

You nod quickly, head knocking against his gently, and your hands drop from his hair to wrap around your arms around his neck, trying to pull him closer to you.

“Yes, fuck. Green.” You moan, trying to swallow down the lump that had formed in your throat. “Just feels so fucking good. You make me feel so good, Noah.”

Your words just start pouring out, slurring together almost like you’re drunk, and your cunt clenches around him again. You’re close, so fucking close, you can feel it, and so can Noah.

“Yeah?” He whispers, lips brushing against your own. Your back arches as you give him another nod. “God, you feel so fucking good on my cock, baby. Everything I ever dreamed of.”

His fingers against your clit speed up, and you let out a choked moan at the feeling of the heat in your stomach snapping. The combination of his words and his thrusts, plus the pressure against your clit, has your orgasm hitting you at full force. You’re not sure what kind of noise leaves you, something primal pulling itself from your chest as your vision blurred again. You feel like your body was sent to heaven and back, the most euphoric feeling coursing itself through your veins as your orgasm washed over you.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit.”

You hear Noah groan from above you as he fucked you through your orgasm. You don’t know what comes over you in that moment, but staring up at Noah as he chases his son release, you don’t think you’ve ever seen something so beautiful. Without thinking, you pull him down to you, lips sliding over his sloppily as he continued to fuck into you. A surprised noise leaves him, muffled by your lips, and with one last thrust you feel him still inside of you, spilling his release into the condom.

Silence follows after that, nothing but the sound of the two of you trying to catch your breath filling the room. Noah’s face is buried in the crook of your neck and your arms are still tightly wrapped around him, holding his body against yours. That overwhelming feeling in your chest seems to return, but you can’t even fully think about it, your mind too hazy. You feel exhausted, limbs feeling like mush after two mind blowing orgasms, that you barley even register Noah pulling himself up and out of you slowly.

You watch with hooded eyes that are becoming too hard to even keep open as Noah crawls off the bed, sliding the condom off and throwing it away, searching your room for his boxers before slipping them on. It’s a blur after that, Noah looking for the cloth he had brought in, probably to clean you off, and you barely remember him getting back on the bed, slowly pulling you up to slip clean clothes on your body.

Your back meets the bed again as you flop back down, curling yourself into your bed. It’s never felt comfier, you think, as you feel Noah curl up behind you, pulling your blankets over both of your bodies. His arm feels heavy over your waist, and his lips leave a burning feeling against the back of your neck as he pressed a kiss there.

The last thing you remember is your fingers curling around your hand that rests against your stomach, whispering out, “Thank you,” as sleep finally overtakes you.