#paper messes up the quality

[kiki-thekaktus]

Sushiii (without working gravity:D)

Tbh, I don't draw food often. And for my inexperience, I'm pretty happy!

[ineedmoredragons]

Kate Bush season

[ngwun]

Dropping the stinky here

[sandraharissa]

I think one of the many things wrong with Jinx this season is how like, half of her personality was cut off and thrown out.

Like her reaction to grief. We see her suicidal after Silco’s death and she’ll be again very suicidal after Isha’s death. Makes sense. Don’t have notes on that part. However I have so much notes on her rage. In s1 we see Powder sometimes responding to bad situation by being shy and sad, but sometimes she reacts in a more adversarial way, like complaining they should try fighting Piltover or trying to stand up to Mylo. But we also get these moments like when she’s left behind and has an absolute meltdown and starts wrecking shit but more importantly her reaction to Silco. He says they’ll show them all and she throws the audience the most rage fueled look you’ve ever seen. When really pushed beyond her limits this is Powder’s emotional reaction to tragedy/being wronged. We see that all throughout acts II and III and we see it when she blows up the council after Silco dies. And that’s the problem cos that’s the part that’s missing from s2. They cut her personality in half and only kept one half. Anger as part of her personality and reaction to grief was discarded when writing her in s2. Even tho she goes through a lot of grieving in s2.

Another example is Isha. Jinx prioritizing family and just chilling? Wanting affectionate interactions with family? Having an easier relationship with a younger family member cos there aren’t any expectations or need to prove anything or gain anyone’s attention? No fear of abandonment/betrayal? She just has this kid who hero worships her and follows her around like a puppy so no stress? No notes. However I have a lot of notes about Jinx’s paranoia and how not normal and possessive and toxic she is about relationships. And I have notes on the generational trauma. Where did all that go? That’s not how ppl work. Living in a messed up society and Silco’s parenting won’t just evaporate like that cos Isha is just so overwhelmingly cute. It’s more likely that Jinx would corrupt the kid. (which you could argue on paper she does cos the kid in the end thought that suicide was dope but why did the narrative frame it as this beautiful thing lol)

And on the topic of fighting Piltover where did “we beat the enforcers with just the four of us imagine what the whole Lanes could do” go? Jinx definitely prioritized family more but she wasn’t neutral or indifferent on the Piltover matter. The enforcers wrong her/hurt her/threaten her family yet again, they kidnapped Isha, and she just acts panicked and sad, but also jokes and quips while on the mission. Where’s the rage and hatred and desire for revenge on the ppl who wronged her? Sometimes it’s just ppl around her being mean or lying or smth, anyone could be her enemy, like Sevika, Silco or Vi, but a lot of the time it’s Piltover, they killed her parents, they were her fathers’ enemies and drove them to hate each other, they chased them as kids and tried to arrest them, they kidnapped and abused Vi in prison all her adolescence, they would have killed Vi so she blew up the whole blockade, Council tried to turn Silco against her and now he’s dead so she bombs them, all her life she can see that the quality of their life is bad bcos of Piltover, she’s in Jayce’s apartment and immediately goes for the sandwich. Jinx doesn’t come off as a very politically/ideologically motivated character but what happened to all her personal beef with Piltover?

They also inexplicably just ceased to write her fucking up all the time. what about her y’know, being a jinx? In s1 even in acts II and III when she is proficient in fighting and bomb-making they still constantly show her being more of a burden and fucking up in other ways. While never explained (which was good) to me it came off as a symptom of trauma and being neurodivergent, like how ADHD kids can’t escape the allegations that they’re lazy, but on a meta level it did make it feel like she was supernaturally cursed. Part of what felt so profound and empowering about s1 finale and her embracing being jinx it that it was her embracing that she’s different (and ‘wrong’ in some ways) and can never live a happy life in the society she lives in and so she lashes out. Now she just chills and nothing ever doesn’t go her way (ig until Isha died but that wasn’t even directly her fault, Isha just acted on her own choice and agency). Suddenly her mental issues don’t exist or get in the way of her socializing and being a part of society. This bigoted, violent and unfair society.

Don’t even get me started on her mannerisms. Remember how she would bite her lip? I’m not sure if she does that even once in s2. “Sister, thought I missed her”??? let Jinx rhyme sometimes and in general say weird shit, not one-liners.

So the only way for the writers to have Jinx do nothing, heal up completely and just chill with a kid in her lair (and really everything else she does (or doesn’t do) this season) is to get rid of half of her personality, the traits that would dictate she take action and feel wrath and lash out/hurt her loved ones in the process.

All of her tragic traits from s1 that made her Jinx were just erased, not changed throughout the course of an arc, absent from the get go, so that they can have her say that Jinx is dead and have it make sense in the context of s2 cos from her very first appearance is s2 this Jinx was devoid of pretty much all of her jinx-y character traits from s1.

[nvirskies]

it's getting hot in here - c. la rue

warnings: reader is like half-naked? just no shirt on is all but reader is wearing a sports bra, nothing sexual just like a tad suggestive?, clarisse is a gay mess, kinda ooc clarisse, i know next to nothing about blacksmithing please hang in there with me, fem reader, no use of y/n, self-conscious reader, not beta read

summary: clarisse goes to pick up a custom order dagger from the forge when she's met with an unexpected sight.

hephaestus!daughter!reader x clarisse la rue

word count: 1.3k

taglist: @lvrue @azrielsdiary @b0ok-lover @star-girl69 @petitegavotte

from this post !

a/n: tbh might make this a multi part thing, at least a second part. also, so sorry this took so long to finish- i got sidetracked with a couple other things irl. hope you enjoy! men, nsfw, non-sapphics, 16- / 19+ dni

It was no secret the kids of Cabin 9 ran a side business to make some extra cash. It was pretty lucrative, given that there would always be a line of demigods waiting to have their weapon(s) of choice customized. Custom engravings, patterns cast into handles, ergonomic handpiece add-ons, and so much more. Name it, and it would be done for the right price, forged with impeccable quality.

And that was how Clarisse La Rue found herself heading to the forge just east of the strawberry fields with a thin paper in one hand and a small bag of golden drachmas in the other. The edges of the slip were just barely singed, and the writing on it looked nearly incomprehensible to many eyes, scribbled notes of her order confirmation and gods only knew what else. It didn’t matter to her, she just needed it to get her dagger and go.

Crowds parted for her like the Red Sea, once-lively conversations coming to a grinding halt as she walked straight through crowds and groups with nothing more than a glare and a sharp look in any general direction. 

In no time at all, the familiar sounds of machinery clanking, fire hissing and crackling, and hammers striking metal filled the air. It was the forge, the singular place where one could guarantee there would be at least one child of Hephaestus in there at all hours of the day. 

She pushed open the heavy metal door, swinging it wide open soundlessly despite its obvious weight. And what a sight she was greeted with. You were there alone, hunched over a piece of blisteringly hot metal, pounding away at it with a hammer in one hand and a pair of tongs in the other.

Something about you entranced her. 

She didn’t know if it was the way your hair was pulled into a low ponytail, some loose strands clinging to the sides of your face, the way you subconsciously bit your lip as you focused completely on the red-hot metal in front of you. Or perhaps, it was the way your muscles rippled in the dim firelight as you struck the metal again and again, a thin sheen of sweat covering the exposed portions of your skin from both the heat and the exertion. 

Maybe it was a combination or something else entirely. 

As she gazed at you, a light blush dusted her cheeks as she came to the realization that you weren’t wearing much while working. The heat of the forge had led you to forgo wearing a shirt entirely, said shirt reduced to a tiny, crumpled gray bundle of fabric in the corner of the room. You were left wearing a sports bra, dusted with ash and soot and a pair of baggy sweatpants resting just above your hips.

It wasn’t as if Clarisse had never seen people dressed in less before. Hell, she’d seen her own fair amount of skin for various reasons. But this time, it seemed different. The slip of paper and bag of coins in her hands were forgotten momentarily as she simply stared at you from the doorway.

The way the dim light of the roaring furnace illuminated you from behind gave you an almost ethereal glow, the edges of the flames flickering around your moving silhouette. 

She could see the muscles in your arm and shoulder tensing and relaxing with every ever-so-precise swing of the hammer, and she found herself silently watching you work from the doorway. 

Ultimately, it was the soft clinking coming from the bag of drachmas Clarisse held in her hand that drew your attention away from the project in front of you. Your head snapped up, tense and a tad startled from the sudden sound, having been so zoned into your work that you hadn’t noticed her presence. 

The hammer in your hand dropped to the metal workbench with a loud clang, the sound reverberating throughout the forge, ripping Clarisse from the glossed-over, hazy look in her eyes as she watched you move just moments ago, having been completely and utterly under your spell.

“Shit-!” you exclaimed, jumping slightly and wincing at the harsh sound, eyes widening further as you’re greeted with the sight of a Clarisse who seemed far too casual compared to how she normally treated campers, especially given her outward distaste towards children of Hephaestus. 

And all of a sudden, you’re all too aware of your lack of a shirt and your cheeks flare with an embarrassed bright red flush.

Flushed the same color as the heated metal in front of you, Clarisse noted absentmindedly. It wasn’t a look she didn’t like. But of course, she would never admit that. The big, bad Clarisse La Rue flustered over something as insignificant as muscles on a girl? Impossible.

Her attention is drawn back to you, observing as you scurry to the other side of the room to grab your stashed-away shirt, slipping the loose grey fabric over your body, any and all views of the muscles she had seen just moments prior completely disappearing in a matter of seconds.

After having taken a few calming breaths, you steeled yourself for a barrage of snarky remarks that you were sure would come spewing out of the Ares cabin counselor’s mouth like acid out of the myrmeke’s mouths, but they never came.

Instead, you’re greeted with the sight of a Clarisse who seemed to be a bit flustered? Her eyes didn’t meet yours for a moment before she straightened herself out. Before your very eyes, you watched her cool and collected facade slip over her like a mask, and that trademark smirk of hers tugged at the corners of her lips.

“I’m here to pick up an order, under my name,” she remarks, holding up the bag of drachmas and thin slip of paper in an outstretched hand. Her gaze seemed like it was scrutinizing everything about your appearance from the baggy grey shirt that hung loosely over your frame to the soot just barely smudged on your forehead. Whether it was a good or bad look you had no idea, subconsciously shrinking into the shadows of the dimly lit forge.

“Right, right, La Rue…” you trail off nervously, scanning the room for the rack that held completed orders and leafing through the tags attached to each object. “La Rue, La Rue, La Rue, where is it-?” you muse to yourself, repeating her last name in a hushed tone until the sight of it comes into view. The dagger she had ordered was at the edge of the table, with the request for a heavyweight handle and an etching of her initials into the butt of it.

Normally, Clarisse would have found your behavior annoying if it were coming from anyone else, but oddly enough, she quite liked the way her last name rolled off your tongue. It felt almost natural, too natural. Quickly, she brushed away the lingering thoughts about how you had looked almost god-like with the flame from the roaring furnace glowing behind you, the thoughts of what your skin would feel like under her hands. 

After a beat of silence, you grabbed said dagger, placed a little ball of clay over its razor-sharp tip, and slipped it into a small drawstring bag, pulling it closed. 

“That’ll be five golden drachmas, La Rue, or fifteen silver ones. Whatever works for you” you say as you hand her the bag, other hand outstretched for the paper she held and to take the coins. She dropped the five golden coins in your palm and grabbed the bag to turn on her heel and walk out without another word.

Or so you thought.

“Thanks for the weapon. I’ll see you around, pretty girl.”

[leighsartworks216]

Puppy

Sylus x gn!Reader

Inspired by the quality time work/study animation when he looks up from cleaning his gun and he just looks so soft and sweet 🥺 And also from the in-game phone call "Crow"

Warnings: swearing, pet names, biting, teasing, fluff

Word Count: 1,142

Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

“Where’s Sylus?”

The temperamental crow looked at you with one glowing red eye, beak turned away coyly. You have to wonder what kind of programming went into making him have so much attitude. It’d probably go right over your head, anyway.

“Wanna make a deal?” You keep an eye on Mephisto as you reach into your pocket, rooting around until cold metal touches your fingers. You lift the shiny metal nut like a prize. “Hm? A nice shiny trinket for you if you show me where Sylus is? What d’ya say?”

His metal wings fluttered at his side, feet stepping unsurely on his perch. But all crows are alike, mechanical or otherwise. He swoops down and snatches the metal from your fingers. You feel the brush of talons, barely escaping having your hand sliced up by an overeager metal chicken.

His caw sounds like a laugh as he leads you down the many halls of the mansion. When he stops to wait for you to catch up, he croons at his shiny new knickknack, pecking at it and staring at it from every angle with his red eyes. He glides through the open crack of a door.

You peek in first. It’s a study, with shelves lined with old paper books and vinyls. There’s a desk with guns neatly laid out on top. Mephisto perches on the accompanying chair. And on the couch, head tilted back and eyes closed, is Sylus.

You wonder if he’s really asleep this time. He’s tricked you before, but as you listen closely you hear the soft snores giving him away.

How cute, you think. A little midnight nap.

The door doesn’t make a sound as you push it open enough to slip inside. You don’t close it back all the way, and Mephisto’s wings nearly clip your head as he flies back outside of the room. That damn bird will always have it out for you, you’re sure of it.

You creep along the elegant carpet to your target, slowly lowering yourself to sit on the other end of the couch. As much as you love messing with Sylus, you didn’t actually want to wake him up now. So, being very careful, you lay down and rest your head in his lap.

“If you want to cuddle, you don’t need to sneak around for it.”

You smack his chest. “You’re such an asshole!” Your heart was racing from the scare, but you don’t get up from your new position. Sylus rewards you by beginning to comb his fingers through your hair. “Were you actually sleeping?”

He hums. There’s a gravel to his voice you didn’t notice before. “Yes, I was.” He finally lifts his head from the back of the couch to look down at you. “Until someone gave Mephisto a shiny new item for his collection.”

You chuckle despite the unimpressed look on his face. “He told on me again?”

“You’re all he seems to talk about these days,” he sighs. He brushes some hair away from your forehead. “At least it’s positive, this time.

“Did you need something from me?”

“Not really. I was just… lonely.”

He smiles slightly. “Well, I’m always happy to keep you company, sweetie.”

It’s easy to doze while he plays with your hair. He seems to know all the right spots, all the right techniques to ease your troubles away. In his care, your hair doesn’t tangle or get caught. It’s heaven.

-

When you wake up, you’re exactly where you were. Sylus’s lap was warm under you, and you wondered if his legs fell asleep at any point during your nap. If they did, he’d suffered through it for your sake.

His hand was nearly still in your hair now. It didn’t move in those perfect ministrations as before. Instead, it was almost completely still, moving at a snail’s pace along the crown of your head. You blink your eyes open to figure out why, maybe even pout and whine about it just to annoy him, but you can’t stop from just staring.

If he notices you’re awake or watching him, he doesn’t say anything. His thumb scrolls through his phone, probably looking at the latest underground news on shady deals or skimming over messages from desperate people wanting to deal with him. Something that drew his attention away from you, at least.

So you take your time drinking him in.

He’s pretty, there’s no arguments there, but it’s his own kind of pretty. It’s sharp and multifaceted, like a crystal. His eyes are intense, lashes so dark and thick it looks like he’s wearing makeup. You wonder if he does. He’d look even more gorgeous with dark red eyeshadow and sharp cat eyeliner. His lips are pressed into a thin line, soft pink drawing your eyes to them. You quickly turn your attention to the slope of his nose before he catches you.

With a sigh, Sylus closes his phone and sets it aside. His hand in your hair goes back to a normal speed, his fingers scratching at the nape of your neck as he finally looks down at you, And just like that, all that sharp beauty is replaced.

Instead of his usual intense gaze, his eyes are soft around the edges, just a little bit wider, relaxed. His lips quirk up slightly at the sight of you, softening his cheekbones. He tilts his head playfully, eyebrows raising as though asking if you’re enjoying the view.

“Puppy.”

He blinks, and it’s gone. His brow furrows, his lips dropping into a frown, eyes sharpened with suspicion. “What?”

You smirk. It’s rare to feel like you have the upper hand. You reach up and touch his cheek. He leans into it, though his expression remains.

“Sometimes you get this look on your face,” you tell him. Your thumb runs under his eye. “It makes you look soft, like a little puppy.”

He scoffs, but his lips quirk up again. “Just how long have you been waiting to use that on me?”

You hum, running your fingers down his cheekbone to his jaw. “Since I asked you to join me while I study a few days ago.” You traced the sharp cut of his jawline, tracking the movement with your eyes. “I looked up for a minute, and you were looking at me like I’d just promised to scratch you behind the ears.” To emphasize your point, you reach to do just that.

He catches your hand before you can, thumb pressed to your palm to keep your hand open. He brings your fingers to his lips, eyes watching you intently as he bites down on them, one at a time, nipping at the tips and knuckles with a smirk. “Careful, kitten,” he warns. He bites at the soft skin on the back of your hand. “This puppy bites.”

[bassmars]

submissive! neuvillette x gender neutral reader.

it’s been so long but I am back, I still love neuvillette. Matter in fact I got him a hydro goblet with 35 crit dmg I know I know…. Be jealous.

No proof read sorry if this is all messed up, wrote this pretty late too.. I might start posting more but who should I write about?

—————

Justice served hot

Sub! Neuvillette nsfw.

warnings: semi-public setting, mild exhibitionism, oral sex, penetrative sex (reader can either have a dick or like a strap on I tried)

"Not now, Y/N," Neuvillette murmured, his eyes never leaving the mountain of paperwork that had piled up on his desk. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the cluttered room, the only sound being the scratch of his quill against parchment. Y/N, ever the persistent one, leaned against the heavy oak doorframe, arms folded across their chest. Their eyes, filled with a mix of longing and mischief, scanned the room for any signs of weakness.

Neuvillette's desk was a battlefield of legal documents, ink stains spreading like spilled wine across the once pristine surface. The scent of parchment and candle wax filled the air, a stark contrast to the faint hint of incense that usually lingered in the hallways outside. The judge's white hair was slightly disheveled, as if he'd been running his hands through it in frustration, and the blue underside of his single strand was vivid against his pale skin. His pointed ears twitched slightly as Y/N's footsteps grew closer, the quiet thud of boots on the cold stone floor echoing in the vast chamber.

"Comeee onnnnn," Y/N whined, their voice a sweet symphony of seduction, "You've been buried in this stuff for hours." They stepped closer, the leather of their corset creaking faintly. "We haven't had any...quality time in so long."

Neuvillette sighed, setting down his quill with a delicate clink. He rubbed his eyes with his gloved hand, the blue fabric stretching over his knuckles. "You know how important this is," he said, his voice strained. "The fate of Fontaine is literally in my hands."

Y/N pouted, their eyes scanning the room as they approached the desk. They leaned over, their chest brushing against the papers, and whispered into Neuvillette's ear, "I know, but so is my happiness." Their breath was warm, sending a shiver down the judge's spine.

Neuvillette swiveled his chair to face Y/N, his gaze dropping to their mouth. "And what would make you happy right now?" His voice was low, a challenge wrapped in velvet.

Y/N smirked, their hand sliding down to graze the bulge in Neuvillette's trousers. "Well," they murmured, "since you're already sitting..." They knelt down, pushing aside the chair slightly, and flipped the desk's edge up, giving them the perfect access.

Neuvillette's eyes widened, his heart skipping a beat. He looked over his shoulder at the door, then back at Y/N. "Here? Now?" His voice was a mix of surprise and arousal.

Y/N nodded, their grin growing wider. "Why not?" They leaned in, capturing Neuvillette's bottom lip in a teasing nip. "It's not like anyone's going to walk in, right?"

Neuvillette's cheeks flushed a light shade of pink, his pointy ears turning a darker shade of red. He glanced at the clock on the wall, the ticking sound suddenly very loud in the quiet room. "Almost time for the next session," he murmured, trying to regain his composure.

Y/N's pout grew more pronounced, their eyes shimmering with a hint of desperation. "Are you really going to leave me like this?" They whispered, their hand still playing with the fabric of his trousers.

Neuvillette sighed, the weight of his responsibilities pressing down on him. "I have to, Y/N. You know how much is on the line for these cases." He began to stand up, but Y/N's grip tightened, their eyes pleading.

"C'mon," Y/N whined, their voice a siren's call, "Just a quickie, before you go." They leaned in closer, their breath hot against Neuvillette's neck, sending a shiver down his spine.

The judge's resolve wavered, the temptation of a passionate encounter with Y/N almost too much to resist. But he knew he couldn't. "No," he said firmly, pushing back his chair, "We can't." He gently but insistently removed Y/N's hand from his crotch and stood up, straightening his robes.

Y/N pouted even more, their eyes glinting with a hint of annoyance. "You're no fun," they grumbled, crossing their arms over their chest.

Neuvillette chuckled despite himself, reaching out to stroke their cheek with his gloved hand. "I know," he said, "but duty calls." He turned and made his way to the courtroom, the heavy doors looming before him like a final boss in a video game.

Y/N trailed after him, their steps echoing down the hallway. "Fine," they said with a dramatic sigh, "but I'm coming with you."

Neuvillette rolled his eyes but didn't protest. He knew Y/N well enough to know that once they had their mind set on something, there was no changing it. They arrived at the grand courtroom, the air thick with the anticipation of the looming proceedings. The room was eerily empty, the wooden benches untouched by the usual bustle of plaintiffs and defendants.

"Well, this is odd," Neuvillette murmured, checking his pocket watch. "We're not supposed to start for another half an hour."

Y/N snickered, their mood lightening at the sight of the empty room. "Maybe the universe is giving us a little gift," they said, wagging their eyebrows suggestively.

Neuvillette couldn't help but laugh. "Or maybe it's just another one of your jinxes," he teased, pushing the door open with a squeak.

The judge stepped inside, his footsteps echoing in the vast space. The high ceilings, adorned with frescoes of ancient battles and legal triumphs, seemed to watch over them like disapproving parents. Y/N followed, their boots clicking against the marble floor.

"Come on," Y/N whispered, sidling up to Neuvillette, "at least give me a kiss. It's been ages."

Neuvillette's resolve was waning, the heat of their earlier encounter still simmering between them. He leaned down, their lips meeting in a soft, chaste kiss that sent a jolt of electricity through his body. But Y/N wasn't satisfied with just a peck. They grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him into a deep, passionate kiss that left them both breathless.

Their tongues danced together, a silent conversation filled with longing and desire. Y/N's hands roamed down to Neuvillette's waist, fumbling with the knot of his sash. They pushed him backward, the large judge's chair looming behind him like a throne. With a grunt, Neuvillette gave in, his body weight carrying him backward into the plush velvet embrace of the chair.

Y/N's eyes sparkled with triumph as they sank to their knees in front of the chair.

Neuvillette's cock, now free from its confines, stood proud and demanding. Veins bulged with anticipation, tracing a map of pleasure along its length, and the underside was particularly sensitive to the touch, a fact that Y/N knew all too well.

As Y/N leaned in, Neuvillette's hips jerked involuntarily, his hand shooting up to grab a fistful of their hair. He gripped it tightly, his eyes squeezed shut as he tried to hold back the moan that threatened to escape his lips. The sensation of Y/N's warm breath against his cock was almost too much, and he had to bite his lower lip to keep from crying out.

Y/N, ever the eager participant, took the hint and wrapped their lips around the tip, teasing the slit with their tongue. Neuvillette's grip on their hair tightened, his legs spreading wider as he pushed his hips up slightly to meet their mouth. The feeling of their tongue flicking against his most sensitive spot sent a shiver down his spine, making his toes curl in his boots.

Y/N took him in deeper, their cheeks hollowing as they sucked hard. The sound of wetness filled the quiet courtroom, the only other noise the occasional crackle of the candles that lined the walls. They could feel the judge's thighs trembling, his gloved hands clutching their head, guiding them deeper. The taste of his precum was sweet on their tongue, a promise of the release to come.

Neuvillette's breathing grew ragged, his chest heaving as he fought to keep his composure. He knew that Y/N was a master at this, that they could make him cum in seconds if they wanted to, but he was trying to hold out. The anticipation was part of the thrill, the knowledge that they were about to be caught up in something so deliciously scandalous in the very heart of Fontaine's legal system.

But it was a battle he was quickly losing. The way Y/N's mouth moved, the pressure and rhythm, it was all too much. His hips began to buck, his hand moving to the armrest of the chair to keep from toppling over. He could feel the orgasm building, a storm brewing in his core, threatening to spill over at any moment.

And just as he was about to let go, the doors to the courtroom swung open, the sound echoing through the room like a gavel's final blow.

Y/N and Neuvillette froze, the latter's eyes shooting wide open as a parade of officials and assistants began to file in, their murmurs of greeting and shuffling of papers a stark contrast to the silence that had been moments before. Y/N, ever the quick thinker, ducked under the desk, their heart racing. Neuvillette's cock, still wet from Y/N's eager mouth, twitched in response to the sudden cold air.

The judge took a deep breath, willing his body to behave as he forced himself to sit up straight, the chair creaking ominously beneath him. He smoothed his robes down, trying to look as dignified as possible despite the raging hard-on he was trying to hide. The room grew louder as more people filled in, taking their seats, arranging their notes. Neuvillette could feel the heat rising to his cheeks, a blush that was hopefully just from the exertion and not the embarrassment of being caught.

Y/N, hidden from view, couldn't help but let out a stifled giggle, the sound muffled by the fabric of Neuvillette's robes. The judge shot them a glare, his hand shooting down to grip the edge of the desk, his knuckles turning white.

"Thank you all for being here today," Neuvillette began, his voice a little shakier than usual. He cleared his throat, trying to compose himself as he continued, "We have a very important case to discuss." His eyes darted around the room, looking for any signs of suspicion. The attendees nodded and murmured in response, none the wiser to the scandalous scene playing out just out of their line of sight.

Y/N, unable to resist the temptation, leaned back in and took him in their mouth again, their hands moving to stroke the base of his cock. Neuvillette's eyes rolled back in his head, his grip on the desk tightening as he bit down on his knuckle to keep from moaning. The room was a blur, the faces of the officials swimming before his eyes as he tried to focus on the case at hand.

With a Herculean effort, Neuvillette pulled Y/N's head back, their teeth grazing the sensitive skin just before they were fully extracted. "Not now," he hissed through gritted teeth, his voice barely above a whisper. Y/N pouted but obeyed— for now, sitting back on their heels and watching him with hungry eyes.

Neuvillette took a deep, shuddering breath and tried to compose himself. He couldn't very well start the session with a raging erection, now could he? He shuffled his papers, hoping that the rustling would cover the sound of his racing heart. The room had filled up, the murmur of conversation growing louder as the minutes ticked by. The tension in the air was palpable, a mix of anticipation for the upcoming case and the unspoken tension between the two lovers.

He took his seat at the bench, adjusting his robes to try and hide his arousal. The first case was brought before him, a dull roar of words that barely registered as he tried to focus. His eyes scanned the pages before him, but the words swam together like ink in water. The pressure of Y/N's mouth was still imprinted on his cock, the ghost of their touch driving him wild. He could feel the wetness of their saliva slowly drying, leaving his skin feeling tight and sensitive.

As the prosecutor began their opening statement, Neuvillette's hand strayed to his mouth, his teeth sinking into his lower lip to keep from groaning. The pressure grew, his cock throbbing with the need for release. He glanced down, trying to be subtle, and found that Y/N's hand had slipped into his lap, their fingers tracing lazy circles around the base of his shaft.

The first time he stuttered, he blamed it on the poor lighting. The second time, he coughed and took a sip of water, his hand shaking slightly as he brought the glass to his lips. The third time, the prosecutor paused, a look of concern flashing across their face. "Your honor, are you feeling quite alright?"

Neuvillette's eyes snapped up, his cheeks burning with a mix of arousal and embarrassment. "I'm fine," he ground out, his voice strained. "Just a... a bit of a cold, I think." He coughed into his fist, hoping it was convincing. The room watched him for a moment before the proceedings continued, the murmur of whispers and shuffling papers resuming.

Y/N took advantage of the distraction, their mouth once again wrapping around Neuvillette's cock. This time, they were more cautious, their movements slow and deliberate. They could feel the judge's thighs tensing, his hips trying to rock up to meet them despite his efforts to remain still. The sound of fabric against skin was almost silent, but to Neuvillette, it was like a symphony in his ears.

He tried to focus on the case, really he did. But every time Y/N hit just the right spot, his eyes would squeeze shut, and a strangled sound would escape his throat. He bit down on his gloved fingers, the leather muffling his moans. The room was so still, so formal, and here he was, on the verge of losing control.

The case droned on, the words a blur as Neuvillette's mind was a whirlwind of pleasure and panic. He could feel the climax building, a crescendo that was all too familiar. Y/N's tongue swirled around the tip of his cock, teasing the slit before plunging back down, taking him in deep.

Neuvillette's body tensed, and he had to bite down on the leather of his gloved hand to keep from crying out. The sudden sharp pain brought him back to reality for a brief moment. He looked up, trying to focus on the defendant standing before him, but all he could see was the swirl of color from the stained glass windows above, casting a kaleidoscope across the room.

"Your honor," the prosecutor's voice cut through the haze, "the defense seems to be... distracted. Is everything alright?" Concerned whispers spread through the courtroom like a ripple in a pond.

Neuvillette coughed, his voice strained. "Just a bit of... allergies, yes. The flowers outside, you know." He cleared his throat and hoped his face wasn't as red as it felt. "Please, continue with your questioning."

The prosecutor looked at him skeptically but carried on. Meanwhile, Y/N had found his sweet spot, licking and sucking with the finesse of a maestro conducting an orchestra. Neuvillette's eyes watered, his hips jerking slightly as he felt the release approaching.

He had to get a grip, literally. He clenched his fists in his robes, the fabric bunching in his grip. "What is your defense?" he managed to ask the defendant, his voice a mix of authority and the beginning of a moan.

The defendant, a burly man with a scruffy beard, looked confused. "I-I was just saying, Your Honor, that I didn't mean to..."

But Neuvillette wasn't listening. Y/N's mouth was like a vise, their tongue a whirlwind of sensation. He could feel the pressure building, the dam about to burst. "I-I need a recess," he blurted out, his voice a strangled whisper.

The room went silent, all eyes on the judge who was clearly not his usual composed self. The prosecutor and defendant exchanged glances, while the bailiff looked like he was about to ask if Neuvillette needed medical attention.

"A... recess?" the prosecutor echoed, looking at the clock. "But we've only just begun."

"Now," Neuvillette snapped, his voice firm despite the tremble in his legs. "This... this case is too important to be rushed." He slammed his gavel down, the sound echoing through the hushed room.

The bailiff stepped forward, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Your Honor, are you feeling... well?"

Neuvillette took a deep breath, willing his body to calm. "I'm fine," he assured, his voice a barely controlled rumble. But Y/N's mouth was like a siren's call, latched onto that spot that made his toes curl and his vision swim. He couldn't ignore the way their tongue danced around the sensitive ridge, the flicks and swirls that sent bolts of pleasure through him.

The prosecutor looked unconvinced, but the defendant's counsel nodded, eager to take advantage of the break. "Very well, Your Honor," the prosecutor said, their voice filled with skepticism. “We'll reconvene in fifteen minutes.”

The room buzzed with whispers as everyone began to stand, their movements a symphony of confusion and curiosity. Y/N didn't waste a second, pulling away from Neuvillette's cock with a final, tantalizing kiss that left him gasping for air. They slipped out from under the desk, smoothing their clothes with a smug grin. "Fifteen minutes, perfect," they murmured, giving Neuvillette's leg a final squeeze before sauntering out of the courtroom.

The judge took a moment to compose himself, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. He adjusted his robes, trying to hide the evidence of their tryst. The room emptied slowly, the murmurs of the crowd fading into the hallway. He waited until the last set of footsteps had disappeared before standing, his legs wobbly with need. He could feel the stickiness on his cock, a testament to how close he'd come.

"Y/N, office," he called out, his voice still a little hoarse. Y/N's eyes lit up with excitement, their hand already on the doorknob. They stepped aside, allowing Neuvillette to pass, their fingers trailing over his lower back as they did so.

Once in the office, Neuvillette's gaze swept over the chaos. Papers littered the floor, ink pots were overturned, and the smell of spilled wine filled the air. He took a deep breath, trying to regain control of his body. "This place is a mess," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of amusement.

Y/N shrugged, a mischievous smile playing on their lips. "It's all part of the ambiance," they said, stepping closer to him. They reached up, untying the knot of his sash with nimble fingers. "Now, where were we?"

Neuvillette's eyes darkened with desire, his hand coming up to cup Y/N's cheek. "We were about to take this somewhere more... private," he murmured, his thumb tracing their jawline. "And then, we're going to make up for lost time."

The door clicked shut behind them, the sound echoing through the cluttered room. Y/N's eyes locked onto his, their hands roaming over his body with a hunger that matched his own. They stepped closer, their bodies pressing together in a delicious dance of heat and want.

"Fuck, you're so hard for me," Y/N growled, their fingers fumbling with the button of his pants. With a swift, brutal motion, they tore open his fly, sending his cock springing free. It jutted out, a testament to his unabated desire, slick with pre-come and begging for release.

Neuvillette's cock sprang free, a testament to his unabated desire. He watched as Y/N took it in their hand, their grip firm and sure. They stroked him slowly, their thumb circling the sensitive tip, sending shivers down his spine.

"Turn over," Y/N ordered, their voice low and commanding.

Neuvillette whimpered at the interruption but reluctantly obeyed, his palms flat on the desk as he bent over, his ass in the air. The cold wood sent a shiver through him, making his skin prickle with anticipation. He was panting and flushed, cock leaking heavily between them as he learned to savor each delicious slide.

Y/N stepped closer, their cock brushing against his thigh. Neuvillette could feel the heat of them, the promise of what was to come. He took a deep breath, trying to prepare himself for the onslaught.

The first slick press of Y/N's length against his entrance was like a spark igniting a flame. Neuvillette gasped, his eyes squeezing shut as they pushed inside him. The sensation was almost too much, a mix of pain and pleasure that made his knees wobble, the sensation of their bodies reconnecting after so long almost too much to handle.

Their rhythm grew steadier as they lost themselves in the moment, their movements driven by pure instinct. Neuvillettes nails raked down Y/n’s back, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

"Y/n," Neuvillette moaned, his hips rising to meet each thrust. "Harder."

Y/N didn't give him any time to adjust, their hips snapping forward with a force that made the desk shake. Neuvillette let out a strangled cry, his body taking a moment to accommodate the intrusion.

They set a relentless pace, their length sliding in and out of him with a wet, slapping sound that filled the room. The desk creaked and groaned, a testament to their passion.

Neuvillette's nails dug into the wood, his knuckles white with the effort of holding on. He could feel his orgasm building, a crescendo of pleasure that washed over him with every thrust.

Y/N leaned over him, their breath hot against his neck. "You're so fucking tight," they murmured, their voice strained with lust. "So good, Neuvillette."

Their words were like a spell, casting a net of desire over him. He pushed back, meeting each thrust with a wantonness that surprised even himself. The need to be filled, to be claimed, was overwhelming.

Y/N's hand slammed down onto the desk beside his head, the sound echoing through the room. "Fuck, yes," they grunted, their hips driving into him with an intensity that bordered on violence.

Neuvillette's eyes watered as Y/N hit that spot, that magical spot deep inside that made his toes curl and his body spasm. He bit down on his gloved hand, trying to stifle the moan that threatened to spill from his lips. The fabric muffled the sound, but the pain only added to his pleasure.

Each slap of their hips against his ass was a symphony of sensation, a crescendo that built and built until he thought he couldn't take it anymore. He could feel his orgasm coiling in his belly, tightening like a spring ready to snap.

Y/N's length slammed into Neuvillette with the force of a storm, the sound echoing through the otherwise silent room. The judge's face was a picture of ecstasy and torment, his eyes squeezed shut as he bit down on his lip to keep from crying out. Each thrust was accompanied by a wet smack, the sound bouncing off the walls like a taunt to their secret.

Neuvillette's legs trembled, his toes curling in his boots as he tried to keep his body from betraying him. He knew the Melusines were just outside, their sensitive hearing attuned to every little noise. The thought of them hearing his desperate gasps and the sloppy sounds of their lovemaking sent a thrill of both fear and excitement through him.

He couldn't help the way his body reacted, his muscles clenching around Y/N's length with every thrust. He was so close, so desperately close to losing control. The pressure was building, a coil in his belly that tightened with every movement. The room swam around him, the candlelight playing across his skin like a lover's caress.

He could feel the tension in Y/N's body, the way their muscles tightened and released with each movement. They were both chasing that elusive high, that sweet release that hovered just out of reach. Neuvillette's mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, each one more depraved than the last.

His body arched, his back bowing like a bowstring pulled taut before releasing an arrow. His orgasm hit, sending waves of pure ecstasy crashing through his body. He bit down hard on the leather of his glove, muffling the scream that threatened to rip from his chest.

His cock spasmed, shooting ropes of cum across the desk, painting the once pristine surface with a chaotic pattern of white. The smell of sex filled the room, a musky scent that seemed to cling to every inch of them. Y/N's eyes widened in surprise and delight at the display, their own hand moving faster as they watched him come undone.

The hand over his mouth was almost painful now, but Neuvillette didn't care. He bucked and thrashed beneath Y/N, the world outside the office forgotten. The only thing that mattered was the exquisite pleasure that consumed him, leaving him boneless and panting.

Finally, the storm passed, and he collapsed against the desk, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. The hand over his mouth slipped away, and he took a deep, shuddering breath, his eyes still closed. The silence was deafening, the only sound the faint tick of the clock on the wall.

Neuvillette's eyes snapped open, his heart dropping into his stomach. He looked at the timepiece, the hands pointing to the number fifteen. "No.”

[astral-wings]

Here's a list of ingredients with various protective and cleansing properties that I've found useful in my closet witch practice! Note that I'm not an expert and these are just my own experiences and interpretations.

Eggshells! Great protection qualities and can also be used for renewal spells as well. A good easy spell would be sprinkling bits of it around the front of your home with the intent of providing protection

Salt, a classic cleansing ingredient that you'll find in your mom's kitchen. Various kinds have slightly different properties. Tip: if you add ashes to it, then it becomes black salt, which in my experience is very a strong cleanser especially if you add a bit of moon water. It becomes a paste and can be used for various things such as sigils

Iron nails. Not only protective, but can deflect back. Like a "back the fuck off" kind of protection. Bonus if it's rusty

Thorny vines, barbs, etc can function like nails

Pinecones. Similar to eggshells, but a bit more spicy (mess with me and I'll nip you back) but not as intense as nails. Also has great renewal properties since it's a seed

Obsidian, a great protective crystal to have on hand

Custom protection sigil, all you need is a pen, paper, and intuition. Or just write it with charged water on yourself

Moon water, especially full moon water. Very strong cleansing

Incense and smoke cleansing, I like using rose. DO NOT USE WHITE SAGE

Enchant jewelry or something you have on you on a regular basis with protective and positive energy properties. It can be as easy as making a sigil for it and activating said sigil by burning or tearing it up or dipping it in charged water. Very secretive!

Pepper! Again, similar to the nails, but with an added kick and slightly different way of carrying out things. Instead of deflecting immediately, it deflects over a slower period of time, like how burns do

Ask a deity or spirit you're working with to bless a charm. Very effective! Can be literally anything!

[luveline]

Oh oh oh Hotch walking in on a sweet little moment between Jack and reader and he just MELTS when he realises how much he loves them both??💗💗 (pls, only if it inspires you lovely!!)

ty for your request! fem, 1k

“Well, I liked it. I thought it was cool.” 

Hotch puts his keys in the bowl. “It is cool,” Jack says. It's good to hear his voice after so long away. Jack's not often talkative. “It is.” 

“Thank you, Jack.” There's a gap where Hotch can't see anything, peering around the door to the kitchen. He's too far away. “You're such a nice boy. You know that?” you ask. 

You and Jack are talking in the unhurried tones of people close to one another. Hotch has to strain to hear it clearly. “You think so?” 

“I do. You're really, always nice to me. You're brave and smart, Jack, but what I love about you the most is how nice you are. How kind.” 

“Thank you.” 

“You're welcome.” Hotch can see the look on your face in his mind, the softening of your eyes and the small smile. “Do you think you're nice?” 

“Yes!” A small giggle echoes off of the kitchen tiles. “I'm nice. But I want to be brave more.” 

“Yeah? It's a really great thing to be so nice. To be patient with people, and to be forgiving, that's its own kind of bravery, because it can be hard.” 

“It's easy.” 

“I'm glad you think so.” Hotch walks further down the hall and finally spots you. You're sitting on the kitchen floor together with one of Jack's long paper rolls spooled from the door to the cabinets. Jack lays on his stomach with a red marker in his hand, staring at you with wide eyes as you draw. Hotch can't see your face, but he hears your smile. “I love you, Jack.” 

“I love you too… thanks for drawing with me.” 

“I love drawing with you. Maybe I should say thanks to you for doing all the best ones.” 

Jack laughs with the shaken-soda quality only little kids can reach. It immediately gets you laughing, and that combined makes Hotch chuckle. Your heads turn together quickly, Jack's with excitement and yours surprise. “Hi, daddy!” 

“Hi, buddy.”

“You're home early?” Jack asks. 

Hotch steps carefully over the mess of pending and paper, sitting cross-legged at Jack's side. Jack smiles and tips into Hotch's lap without getting up, a flop of limbs into starched pants. Hotch hugs him in similar limbless fashion. 

“Home for two days, at least.” He presses his lips to Jack's ear, speaking softly. “So I hope you saved some room for me on that paper.” 

“I did! Do you want your pyjamas? We've been wearing our pyjamas all day. We had pizza for breakfast.” 

“Jack!” You cover your face. “Jack, that was our secret, oh,” —you part your fingers— “Aaron, I'm sorry, I know he shouldn't lie to you, and I know I shouldn't give him junk but he was asking so nicely and I really didn't wanna make oatmeal.” 

Jack runs away with another bout of giggles, knowing he's entrapped you. 

“You know I don't care,” Hotch says, giving you an easy smile. 

“Yeah, but… I'm supposed to be a good role model,” you say, offering a small smile in return. It half knocks the air from his lungs. 

He reaches across the drawing chaos to touch your face with his thumb. Your cheek is soft. The little wrinkle by your mouth deepens with your smiling, and the incremental weight of your head tilting into his hand is a feeling he can't get enough of. 

“I heard you talking,” he says. 

“What were we saying?” 

“About how he's kind.” He cups your cheek. “I missed you both so much. It's… amazing to be home.”

He knows you like this more than kissing, sometimes. It isn't hard to hold you like you mean everything to him, to caress your skin with a gentle fingertip, drawing a line along the curve of your neck. Your pupils grow to black dimes, and your breathing slows. 

“I missed you too, Agent. We missed you, we've been trying to think of new games to keep busy. See, we're drawing us in different jobs.” 

He's going to look just as soon as he gets enough of you, his thumb pressing circles into your skin.

“Did you frown a lot while you were away?” you ask in a whisper. 

“Can you tell?” 

“A little bit,” you say, still whispering as you lift your hand. You rub the line between his brows. “Should I kiss it away?” 

Jack runs back in with Hotch's pyjamas in his arms, a grey shirt and dark blue pants. “Kiss what?” 

“My wrinkles,” Hotch says. 

“His frowny face.” 

Jack wraps his arms over Hotch's shoulders, almost choking him with the pyjamas. “I'll do it! I will.” 

“Alright, buddy. Fix me up, okay? I can only smile for the next couple of days.” 

Hotch gets a face full of kisses and a great long hug to round it out, Jack in his lap. You're sketching something as they hug but he can't see what until Jack settles, and when he does, he laughs so hard he almost knocks Jack back out of his lap. 

Jack Hotchner, professional frown remover, you've captioned. Jack stands tall and smiling with a love heart on his shirt, his felt marker outlines sewn with care. Aaron Hotchner stands next to him, professional frowner. 

Hotch immediately pesters Jack into giving him the right pens for his own turn. He doesn't caption it, unsure what job he'd label either of you with, but it's clear what he's getting at with speech bubbles full of smiley faces. 

He thinks he might remember your conversation forever without it, but the drawing serves as a nice memento. He only wishes he were a better artist. 

[penny-anna]

It's Christmas cookie time here goes

Hot damn!!

I've never done dipped cookies before I'm nervous

So far so good

All done!!

VERDICT: never made this recipe before literally just grabbed a chocolate ginger cookies recipe off the Google results. OUTSTANDING.

Moderately time consuming between having to chill the dough and the dipping but results SO indulgent. Unbaked dough had an almost boozy quality in spite of containing no alcohol. Baked for directed 12 minutes and they puffed up and sank exactly as described.

Warmly recommend making these for Ur winter celebration of choice!!

Notes on recipe:

I left the spice quantities alone as it was my first time baking the recipe and I think they're just right but I'm a lightweight. Used black treacle in place of molasses (not typically sold in supermarkets here) which was fine. Recipe recommends good baking chocolate for dipping, i used eating chocolate which was also fine.

Recipe unfortunately doesn't advise on how to set the chocolate without making a mess so here u go:

Put dipped cookies on cooling rack w some parchment paper underneath to catch drips

Wait until chocolate starts to set (I think mine was about 15 mins) and then remove from racks onto parchment to set fully

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

Home Movie - Rafe Cameron One Shot

+18 Minor DNI

Rafe x Girlfriend!Reader

⭐️ republished ⭐️

+18 Minor DNI

🪄 Warning: SMUT & Swearing, Pet names, no use of Y/N, birthday sex, first-time anal fingering, unprotected p in v, oral (male receiving), recording a sex tape, hair pulling, Rafe talks you through it.

📖 You and Rafe spend some quality time together after your birthday celebration, where you catch all the fun on tape.

2.9k <- almost all smut oops

Reader’s POV:

Your fingers comb through the back of Rafe’s hair, making him groan. “You know how hard it is to get you alone, princess?” Rafe chuckles, breathily as you amble toward the grand staircase. His face melts into your neck; lips meeting your skin, making your head fall to the side. “I’m glad everyone could be here for you, baby.” He mumbles against your neck, working his way up to your ear, sending chills down your spine. “Fuck. I hate sharin’ you though.”

“And, I hate sharing you. Tonight was perfect, baby. Thank you. Seriously, this has been the best birthday ever.” Rafe pulls back slightly, meeting your gaze, his blue eyes sparkling. The corners of his rosy lips curl into a smile.

“That makes me so happy, sweetheart.”

Rafe sets you down, not losing contact, lowering himself to your lips. He kisses you deeply, consuming all of your senses. His rich cologne, the sweetness of his taste, and green apple Jolly Ranchers, he can help but snag from your purse. He moans into your kiss, music to your ears as the touch of his rough hands glides higher and higher up your bare legs. He backs you up against the wall, tongue tangling with yours.

“You still up for this?” He mumbles between kisses.

“Mmm… Mhmm.”

“You’re gonna look so good on camera, princess,” he rasps, the vibrations of his low tone tickle your ear, making you powerless. “Oh, I got you a gift. You wanna put it on for me? I’ll set up the camera.” You bite your lip and nod.

“After you, pretty.”

A smile rolls across your lips as you see the mess of gifts arranged on the counter, a spray of rose gold and blush-hued balloons lofted on the ceiling. “Rafe,” you sigh, happily as you take in the additional gifts added, a lovely bouquet of roses, your favorite pink wine, and a white apparel box with a red bow.

Rafe walks behind you, body pressing against your back, arms shrouded around your waist as you unfasten the satin, undoing the knot. You draw back the top, plucking out the tissue paper; letting out a sinful little laugh. There it sits, a VHS C resting on a nest of red lace lingerie.

Snagging the VHS you pass it to Rafe. He wastes no time, popping back the lid; pulling out the smaller cassette, jamming it into the camera. He turns back to you cupping your cheeks in his large hands, kissing your forehead, your nose, your lips. “Be a good girl and get dressed for me. Yeah?”

“Jesus Christ, princess,” he groans, lustfully as his bare chest presses flush with yours. “How are you so sexy?” Rafe whispers against your lips, deepening the exchange a moment later, claiming your lips in a passionate kiss. His fingers drift into your hair, pulling you even closer. You reach down, stroking your hand over his clothed cock. “Lemme see you.” He draws back to take a better look, moaning lowly as his eyes drink you in.

Rafe spins you under his finger, his darkened eyes trailing from the tips of your black heels to the top of your lace-trimmed thigh-high stockings. His finger traces the little straps, clipping your hosiery in place; following the line to the garter belt cinched around your waist.

“This is one selfish fuckin’ gift,” he chuckles, darkly.

“I love it, baby. I feel beautiful-”

“You are beautiful. Damn… You’re divine, angel,” he moans before you can say much more, lighting you ablaze.

“You ready?” Your hands rest lightly against his chest, feeling his heart racing underneath, matching your own.

“Haven’t thought about much else today, princess.”

“Neither have I,” you whisper as your lips brush against his, feeling the anticipation build.

His large palms circle the fullness of your ass. “Shit…” He groans, drawing out the word as his hand meets only skin. His arm reaches further around your hip, fingers skimming your ass, reaching as far as he can, the tips of his fingers swirling your arousal dipping into your entrance. “You don’t even have to take these off.”

“How ‘bout that?” You add, breathily, fanning the flame. He doesn’t respond, just a hungry stare as he picks you up, shifting the two of you to the mattress, looking like he could absolutely devour you. He reaches down, practically ripping the button of his slacks open, going on all fours toward you as you move back to the headboard.

He kisses your forehead, retreating on the bed. One snap open, then the next. Rafe unclasps your garter belt straps, peeling the stockings off your thigh and calf, kissing and kissing some more as he reveals more and more skin. His fingers never lose contact, landing on your panties again.

Rafe drops his hips thrusting and rolling his rock-hard bulge into you. You can feel the chill of the slick between your thighs making you release an eager whimper. “Need you,” you whine.

“You still wanna try, sweetheart?”

You nod rapidly at him before lowering your gaze, taking in his perfect form, tanned skin and thick muscles. His blonde fringe dusts his forehead, brushing against you as he continues to torture you with a few more hindered thrusts.

“I need you inside of me,” you breathe, tugging at his boxers, drawing them as low as you can before Rafe yanks them off completely. His hard dick stands straight, weeping at the tip. You wrap your hand around his thick shaft, swiping your thumb across his tip before taking it between your lips, purring at the taste.

“I’m obsessed with you,” he mumbles under his breath, his body tacking you to the mattress.

“Fuck. Me.”

“Anything for you. Hands 'n knees, sweetheart.”

You roll over underneath him as he rises on his knees, moving back slightly for you to assume the position. You rest your forearms on the bed, ass in the air.

“Like this?” You ask, looking over your shoulder, making his eyes roll back.

“Just like that,” he groans as he takes hold of your curves, spreading your cheeks slightly. You watch a devilish smirk stretch on his lips. His eyes drift to the camera, checking his angle, making sure to get the perfect shot.

He draws his hand back slapping your ass cheek, a satisfying clap cracks through the room. Rafe snares your hips, towing you closer. You relax your body a little more, the sway of your spine deepening.

Rafe’s rough fingers meet your clit, making you release a throaty moan. “Such a pretty pussy,” he groans as he works a little further back, toying with your entrance, running his fingers through your folds before slapping your cunt. “Always so wet for me.”

“I’m so wet for you,” you pant. “Please, Rafe. S-Shit-” You’re cut short by a new sensation, as Rafe rubs his thumb over your taut hole using your slick as lube. He runs a line of spit down, making you release a little gasp as he circles a little quicker before pressing it inside, making you clutch the sheets.

“Good?” A smile spreads on his perfect lips.

“So fucking good,” you moan. Rafe draws his finger out, pulling out a moan from your trembling lips. Rafe presses against you again, his pointer finger replacing his thumb.

“Want me to keep goin’?”

“Yes. Fuck, Rafe… Don’t stop,” you whimper.

You watch as Rafe wraps his fist around his dick as well. Your entire body starts to throb, heart banging in your chest as Rafe pumps his long cock at the same tempo as his finger, working in and out of you. A bead of precum drips from his swollen tip onto the comforter below.

Is he gonna fuck me too?

You feel heat spread across your already hot skin as he answers your question. His fat cockhead presses against your entrance, making your fingers twist in the sheets, gripping tight, eyes squeezed as he glides inside your pussy.

“O-Oh, Rafe. I- Mmm…” He sinks balls deep, the skin of his body pressed against yours, making you cry out. He lets you adjust to his size and the new sensation.

“Please…” You manage, wanting desperately for him to move.

“Gotta use your words, baby girl. There somethin’ you want?”

“Fuck me,” you whine.

“There’s my good girl,” he grunts, rocking into you at a familiar tempo, working his fingers in tandem with his thrusts.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, in ecstasy as he adds another, filling you fuller than before.

“Jesus Christ,” he huffs. Rafe curls his digits inside your ass, pumping both a little quicker, making you tighten around him more. “Feels so good, baby… G-Goddamn,” he pants between ruts.

“So good,” you cry.

Rafe’s palms the arch of your ass with his other hand, spanking your cheek before gliding it forward, forcing your body a little lower. He feeds off your whines and moans, searching for that perfect angle to send you over the edge.

“Right there,” you cry.

“Like this?” He asks in a taunting tone, using your words from before. “Right there, sweetheart?”

“Yes. Yes.”

A cocky smile spreads on his lips as he watches you carefully. The clapping of skin fills the room along with the lewd squelching of your cunt. “Faster,” you snivel.

“Mhmm?”

“Harder,” you plead through quivering lips, spit seeping out the sides of your mouth.

“Yeah?” He bullies. His hand takes a grip on your ass, rough thrusts with his fingers and cock making your body weak.

“Gonna cum.”

“Mmm… Squeezin’ me so tight. S-Shit,” he stammers.

You scream out his name, pussy fluttering around his length as you cum harder than you ever have before. Your toes curl tight, hands weaved in the sheets as you flood his cock with your release.

Your lashes beat to a close, muscles settling around him as his fingers pull out. “Mmm…” Rafe growls from behind you as his hand rounds your hips. He grinds his cock slowly, just rough enough to make the plush of your ass recoil.

“Felt so good, Rafe,” you mewl in exhaustion, feeling his hand sail up the bend of your spine, raking into your hair.

“You liked that, baby? You want more?”

“Yeah. Wanna make you cum, daddy.”

“Look at the camera for me, darlin’,” Rafe rasps, taking a tighter grip on your strands, guiding your fucked-out smile to the lens. You blink your eyes, doing your best to focus, ears ringing slightly.

“So fuckin’ beautiful… Holy shit,” he moans as he continues to fuck into you nice and slow. “I wanna go a little slower this time,” he whispers. “That alright with you, baby doll?”

“That’s perfect.”

“Come here, sweetheart,” he calls for you.

The pads of Rafe’s calloused fingertips skate up your thighs, finding your dripping cunt. He runs a few small circles on your clit as you scratch your nails up his thigh. He lets out a deep moan as you apply a little pressure, rolling his heavy balls in your small hand.

“Can you suck me clean, baby?”

“Fuck, daddy… Please,” you sigh, dreamily as you slot yourself between his strong thighs.

“Open,” he rasps, making you flatten your watering tongue. He inserts his thumb pressing down on it before inserting his cock nice and slow. “Close…” You wrap your lips around his length, feeling it strain on your tongue. “Suck, sweetheart.” You taste his essence, paired with a hint of your own.

“You’re lips look so pretty around my dick.” You take him to the back of your throat, sucking him off to the tip, eyes locked on his. “Co'mere, baby,” he croons, guiding you back in, kissing your lips, taking in the taste as well. His kiss is unhurried and deep, his tongue rolling slowly with yours, making you light-headed

Rafe pushes you back onto the bed, mounting you quickly, leaning his toned frame over your own. His kisses journey lower and lower on your body, kissing and re-kissing your skin, breathing in your perfume as his hands play as well.

His ringed fingers circle your breasts before pressing them together. He growls in satisfaction, kissing the mounds of your breasts. He flicks his pink tongue across your hardened nipple, sending chills across your body.

“Shit, baby. Look at you,” he sighs, marveling at your curves, pinching your nipples between his thumb and forefinger. He rolls your pebbled skin roughly making pleasure spur between your thighs, causing you to shudder out a breath. “Fuck. I love your body, honey,” he groans. Rafe crawls closer, a boyish smile on his lips as he lowers himself to your ear, the warmth of his breath making a flighty giggle flee your lips. “I’m fuckin’ your tits later.”

“Yeah,” you smile as you tuck yourself into his arms.

“Neither can I,” you breathe, spreading your thighs a little wider as he takes his shaft in his hand.

You watch as he slides his cock into you slowly, plunging in with the wetness of your first orgasm. “Fuckkk. That feels so damn good,” he groans. Rafe begins to roll his hips into you. You can see all of his muscles at work as he holds himself up with his forearms, his gold chain keeps cadence with his thrusts.

It’s the perfect pace, the perfect depth, allowing you to savor him, every vein, and ridge, the curve of his swollen head dragging against your sweet spot already.

You look down, watching as he stretches you out; cock glistening with your cum. “It’s like you were made for me, baby,” he pants, breathily, pulling you from your daze, back to his beautiful eyes.

“I am…” you whisper.

Rafe’s hand works up your arm, fingers intertwining with your own. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Rafe,” you whimper as he pins your hand above your head. His lips meet yours, kissing you passionately as he fucks you close.

Your nails scratch into his hair, making Rafe moan into your mouth. You dig your heels into the mattress, close not close enough as you meet his thrusts causing your skin to slap together.

He presses himself a little deeper making you wail. Rafe’s body trembles, hips hitching at the sound of your bliss fighting himself to maintain his slower pace.

“Feels so good, Rafe,” you cry.

“So, so good. Shit. I’m gonna be leaking out of you all night, sweetheart. That what you want?”

“Wanna feel you all night,” you sigh.

He chuckles darkly, his deep voice vibrates against your skin just below your ear. “My dirty fuckin’ girl.” Rafe grabs his pillow from beside your head, placing it underneath you, changing positions slightly.

He pumps into you, building up speed. Your body starts to tighten around him, your finish surely coming soon. He separates from you, gripping your hips, thrusting at a rapid pace.

“Fuck, Rafe,” you moan, fiercely.

“Are you close?”

“Yes,” you whine, making him smile.

“You’ll cum, princess, but not until I say you can,” he orders through jagged breaths.

“Oh, fuck!” You yell, loudly as he spits on your pussy, rubbing circles onto your sensitive bud. You grit your teeth, muscles strained as you hold back your pleasure. “I can’t take it-” You huff.

“You will,” he grunts. Your eyes slam shut as he brushes his fingers from side to side.

“Rafe, please!” You plead. He smiles, his hand moving quicker causing you to grip the sheets.

“Cum for me, princess,” he orders, and you let it all go.

“F-Fuck, Rafe,” you sob, feeling your release, thigh shaking, back arching. Your wetness leaks from your pussy as he continues to pound into you.

Rafe throws his hips, pulsing deep inside as he fills you completely, his cum bursting out the seams, wetting his bed below. He thrusts slowly, brows threaded tight, milking out his last bits of pleasure.

Rafe leans down kissing you softly. “That was amazing,” he whispers through his rapid breaths as you cup his sweat-sheened cheeks in your hands.

“Fuck. That was so good,” you gust, doing your best to catch your breath.

“Let me shut it off. Okay?”

You nod, nose brushing against his, kissing him gently as he draws out. “Forgot that was on,” you giggle as you enfold your naked body in sheets, watching as he saunters toward the camera.

“Me too, sweetheart. It’s perfect. This is fuckin’ perfect,” he hails, holding the little cassette between his fingers, carefully setting it back in the VHS. He walks away, running his fingers through his hair, his bubble-butt bouncing slightly with each step. 

“Where are you going?” You giggle.

“Cake,” he answers, merrily, turning around with it in hand, sucking some pink frosting off his finger. “Tastes like your pussy.” You roll your eyes and smile as you nestle into his pillow. “I’m serious. Better even.”

“Better!” You gasp, playfully, pulling yourself up as Rafe climbs on. He situates you between his legs, dragging you back, leading you to relax on his chest, yanking the covers over you once more.

“Comfy?” He kisses your temple as he holds you close.

“So comfy,” you sigh, blissfully. Rafe grabs the cake, resting it on your lap digging into the dessert, giving you the first bite, then him.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

[guywithn0name]

-Alphabet headcanons-

;Miles G Morales

Miles G Morales x any gender reader

🎸 | Masterlist | 🎸

I still haven’t finished a post I’ve had in my drafts for like 3 months already ( ・∇・) (it’s a Leon Kennedy post lol) but in the meantime I’m going to write this and actively ignore the drafts (^з^)-♡ and ik Miles from 1610 and this Miles are super similar but they have different headcannons since they are still different people and they’ve had different experiences so yeah lol.

Warnings: not rly proofread

-‘A’ is for AFFECTION (how affectionate are they?)

Miles isn’t one to show much affection beyond a simple hand-in-hand or a small and quick peck while in public. But he is more affectionate when you two are in private, or with people he’s comfortable around. His love language is acts of service along with quality time. He likes building his tech when you’re around, not really talking but just chilling together while listening to music. If Miles ever gives you gifts he’ll give you homemade gifts like; paper bouquet, handwritten letter, homemade food and ect. I don’t really think he’d give a lot of materialistic gifts. Mostly because over half of the money he steals is to help him and his mom. And he doesn’t really get the point of them either. He gets they’re nice, but why buy something expensive when you can make something?

-‘B’ is for BESTFRIEND (what are they like as a bestfriend?)

He’a a pretty chill guy to be friends with at the end of the day. He might be a bit closed off at first but when he opens up he’s a huge nerd. He’ll talk about his tech for hours if you know he’s the Prowler. If you two go to a McDonald’s or something, he’s the one who’ll give you one chicken nugget but not buy you a box for you because he’s too poor for that, but if you buy him McDonald’s or something like that, he will give you something self-made as a thank you gift.

-‘C’ is for CUDDLES (how and do they like to cuddle?)

He’s one of them sleepy cuddle people, he especially cuddles with you when he’s sleepy or tired. He acts like he’s a big spoon when y’all cuddle, but he’s really a secret little spoon. He isn’t big on showing affection like I said before, but he is semi cuddly when you two are alone in peace. He likes wrapping himself around you, full body hug and all.

-‘D’ is for DOMESTIC (if they settle down, how will they help?)

Miles is a bit hesitant on settling down with someone. He wants to, yeah. But because of his Prowler job he isn’t quick to just live with anybody. But that aside, let’s talk about what it’s like to live with Miles. He’s the type of person who wants to split the chores. The chores he would do is probably cooking and things along those lines. If you know he’s the Prowler you 100% will find some random parts around the place. The random prowler claw in the coffee table in the living room. Don’t worry about it, Miles just wanted to watch some tv while he was fixing it. Miles appearing in the kitchen, his hands somehow covered in oil? He’s just getting water, don’t mind the oil, it’s just from his motorcycle. The random motorcycle and tech parts on the kitchen counter? Don’t worry, he’ll clean it up soon. He always tries to clean up his messes, but you might find some things that don’t belong in random places.

-‘E’ is for ENDING (how would the break up go?)

Depending on the situation of the break up and who breaks up with who, he still probably might be a bit sad about it, before or after the break up. If you’re the one who’s breaking up with him, he’d definitely want a reason why. He’d probably feel upset about it if it was for a good reason. If he’s the one breaking up with you. There’s are two reasons for him to break up with you. Reason number one; he doesn’t like you anymore and he’s not cruel enough to date someone he doesn’t like. Reason number two; he doesn’t want to put you in danger because of his Prowler job, he just wants to protect you one of the few ways he knows how to.

-‘F’ is for FIANCÉ (how do they feel about marriage)

Miles’ a bit hesitant to marry someone, but he does want to marry someone at some point of his life. He wants the same kind of marriage and love his mom and dad had together. If Miles has a wedding, he’d want a small wedding with only close friends and family attending. He’s not that interested in a big wedding with a ton of people. He thinks a wedding is something only the people who you and him are actually close to.

-‘G’ is for GENTLE (how gentle are they?)

He tries his best to be gentle with you. But he isn’t too good with it. Miles had built a kind of wall around himself after his dad’s death. He still tries his best with you, but somewhat always keeps you at an arms length. But after some time he lets you get closer. Miles’ always careful not to make you uncomfortable or uneasy.

-‘H’ is for HUGS (do they like hugs?)

Miles does like hugs, but he definitely isn’t that clear about it. He also somehow has some of the warmest, and best hugs ever to exist. His hugs with his family member and close friends are like bearhugs. He’s a little awkward hugging strangers tho.

-‘I’ is for I LOVE YOU (when do they say I love you for the first time?)

All things considered, Miles was probably the one who said “I love you” first. You two were hanging out on the rooftop of the apartment complex he lived in, just chilling and looking at the stars while listening to music from his phone. And suddenly he just blurted the words “I love you” while admiring you. It was a cute moment.

-‘J’ is for JEALOUSY (do they get easily jealous? And if they do, what will they do?)

He doesn’t get jealous that much, only when other people obviously flirt with you or something along those lines, he’s more protective than jealous most of the time. He knows you’re loyal, so he doesn’t act too jealous. The most he’ll do when he’s jealous is a small tug on your hand to signal he wants to leave while glaring at the other person, he has a cold exterior so the glare wasn’t unnecessary surprising.

-‘K’ is for KISSES (how often do they like to get or give kisses, and where?)

Miles isn’t someone who likes to give a lot of affection in public, like I said earlier. He does like giving kisses, and reviving them. Miles just doesn’t like giving them in public. When he does give kisses in public, the most he’ll do is give a little peck on the cheek, forehead or on your temple. When he does kiss you on the lips, he’ll definitely do it when you two are alone or at each others place like I’ve said multiple times. When you two kiss, he likes to have his hand on you hip or on the side of you neck. Miles also likes giving soft pecks on the neck when you two cuddle. He enjoys getting kisses, but he doesn’t like showing that. His favourite part to get kissed is on his temple or on the crook of his neck, but only a gentle kiss or peck.

-‘L’ is for LITTLE ONES (how are they with kids?)

There’s only one word on how to describe Miles with kids, awkward. He isn’t bad with them, or good with them. Just awkward. He doesn’t wanna hurt one of them, because of that he doesn’t really know how to handle them. He’s too scared that he’ll hurt one, so he prefers not to interact with kids.

-‘M’ is for MORNINGS (how are mornings with them?

He’s a groggy morning boy. And like I mentioned he’s cuddly when he’s tired, so don’t be expecting to be able to get up early. So when you wake up, you’re 100% in some messy position with Miles wrapped around you or laying on top of you. He probably drooled at least a bit during the night too. His whole morning routine is pretty simple, get up from bed. (Like ten minutes after he woke up) Then changing his clothes and getting breakfast after brushing his teeth, a simple and quick morning.

-‘N’ is for NIGHTS (how are nights with them?)

Miles has a full on night routine, it’s not a complicated one, but he still has one. He always takes a shower before he goes to bed. And his whole skin routine is only water. How does he have such clear skin with so little effort? Only no one knows. He also wears a durag to bed, he also has like three different durags to choose from. Why? Don’t ask, seriously, don’t. (He doesn’t know either) He also always says “good night” and “love you” to his mom before going to sleep. When he moves out, he’ll text it to her occasionally, but every night but some nights. Just to remind her that he still exists. (They talk almost every other day or every day on the phone)

-‘O’ is for OPEN (how open are they about themselves?)

Miles was more open before his dad’s death, but he became a lot more closed off after it. It takes a while for him to fully trust someone. But when he does give someone his trust, it’s like peeling an onion, a lot of layers. He’s slow at opening up, but when he does it means he really does trust you. When he does in fact trust you, you’re one of his forever friends. He’s the type of guy to have a few close friends rather than a lot of not so close friends.

-‘P’ is for PATIENCE (how patient are they with you?)

Since Miles himself is a pretty standoffish, so he understands if you don’t want to be open with him right off the bat. He’s definitely patient with you as long as you’re patient with him too. He wants to take his time with the relationship, not rush to things.

-‘Q’ is for QUIZZES (how much do they remember about you?)

Miles actually remembers quite a lot about you. It’s pretty surprising since he’s the Prowler, and his school along with helping his mom at home too.

-‘R’ is for REMEMBER (what’s their favourite moment in the relationship?)

One of his favourite moments in your relationship was when he told you he was the Prowler. You two had been dating for about a year and half at that point. You were staying over the night at his place. It was almost Halloween and the two of you were coming up with costume ideas when the topic of vigilantes came up. Or more specifically, the Prowler. Miles had been thinking about telling you that he was the Prowler for a bit at this point. So, he decided that now was a good time to tell you. A bit later Miles takes a deep breath and then takes your hands in his, before finally telling you the truth of him being the Prowler. It was a really nice moment to the two of you, and now one of Miles favourite moment of your relationship.

-‘S’ is for SECURITY (how protective are they?)

He’s actually a little protective, he wasn’t as protective before his dad died, but he got more protective after it. He doesn’t wanna loose another person who’s close to him. He also developed a small habit of walking you home when you’re over at his place. The city’s dangerous and he knows it, he likes knowing that you got home safe after you leave his place, it gives him some comfort.

-‘T’ is for TRY (how much effort are they putting into the relationship, dates and ect?)

Miles puts in his share fair of effort into the relationship, but if he notices that you’re not putting the same amount of effort into the relationship he’ll become more distant. He wants that the both of you put in effort for the relationship, not just one-sided effort. Like I mentioned before, he likes giving hand-made gifts and likes to cook homemade meals for you. He isn’t the biggest fan of going on fancy dates or anything. Mostly because he doesn’t really have enough money to pay for them, plus the city he lives in (and most likely you) definitely isn’t the safest place to have dates outside. Miles really likes dates that are spent indoors at each others houses. He especially likes movie dates, and dates where you cook or bake together. Doesn’t matter if you’re good at it or not, he’ll still have a lot of fun with you.

-‘U’ is for UGLY (what’s a bad habit of theirs?)

He sometimes has a dumb habit of forgetting to answer texts or calls when his phone’s on silent. And if he does see it, he sometimes forgets to respond completely and only realises it a few hours later.

-‘V’ is for VANITY (how insecure are they?)

He’s not an insecure person, at all. He’s pretty confident in himself, he’s just quiet. But like with my Miles 1610 alphabet headcannon, he’ll get a tiny iny bit insecure if you two haven’t spent time together in a while. (you should go read it if you haven’t already ;) )

-‘W’ is for WHOLE (do they feel whole without you?)

Miles would be sad without you, but he wouldn’t fully feel incomplete without you. But he would certainly miss you. He already lost his dad, so he knows how to deal with sadness. He would miss you. But it all depends if you died or left him. If you died Miles would definitely make a graffiti of you, just like he did of his dad. But if you left him, or the other way around. He would probably think about you time to time, even miss you at times. But he wouldn’t come after you, the walls around his heart wouldn’t let him.

-‘X’ is for XTRA (extra headcanon about them)

Miles is a great cook, his mom taught him how to cook since he’s been little. He wants to get a small tattoo in honour of his dad in the future. He likes drawing you in his sketchbooks, and as little doodles in sticky notes that are on his blueprints of his gear and other things. He actually doesn’t enjoy horror movies a lot, he gets scared easily by them even tho he puts on a front of not-being-scared-of-anything. Miles definitely tender headed, and he only ever lets a very specific barber or his mom touch his hair. And you if you’re lucky.

-‘Y’ is for YUCK (what can they not stand?)

He hates people who just cannot season food properly, it disgusts and pains him at the same time.

-‘Z’ is for ZLEEP (how is to sleep with them?)

Two words for sleeping with him; no space. He moves around a ton while he sleeps and like I mentioned earlier, he cuddles a lot while he sleeps. He definitely has a second blanket that he hugs in his sleep when he can’t cuddle anyone. He’s also one of those people who just cannot sleep without a blanket on. Is he overheating under it? Maybe. But he can’t not sleep with it. Without it he ain’t sleeping, honestly.

HAPPY PRIDE MONTH!! :)

[lionhanie]

han taesan ; back 2 u (part four)

you can’t help but find yourself coming back to taesan everytime

this is part four of my series, back 2 u! read the previous part here!

fuckboy!taesan x fem!reader, college au

...featuring! BFFS jaehyun + woonhak, fuckboy leehan (AND he's taesan's roommate), and lovely roomies sungho + riwoo <3

word count: 11.1k (EXTRA special ty to my beloved @serejae for beta reading for me T_T)

warnings:  ANGST,,,, cursing, one kms joke, gongfourz fboy activities, woonhak is a little lost, alcohol/weed usage (reader smokes and drinks one (1) single beer), shotgunning (smoke), insecurity + overthinking, toxic relationship behaviors, mentions of other idols as side characters :P (newjeans minji, gidle minnie, enha heeseung, zb1 matthew)

a/n: apologies for disappearing off the face of the earth .... but wanted to mention that i joined @onedoornet !!! ^_^ plsplspls go support and check out everyone else in this lovely network hueheuhe <3

reblogs ↺ + feedback always appreciated!

A mess consisting of scrap paper, pens, and various scribbled notes from the lecture was currently occupying the entire span of your desk. You were supposed to be studying for an exam you had in a couple days, but you were currently sprawled out in the comfort of your bed as you scrolled mindlessly through Twitter. 

[Instagram] the_myungjaeee sent a post by kminji04! the_myungjaeee: LOL look at woonhak dancing in the 3rd slide

Opening Instagram, you’re faced with what looks like a photo dump from a girl who goes to your university. It was recently posted, the caption reading “late night finds”. Swiping to see the video Jaehyun was referring to, you cover your mouth to stifle your laughter at seeing one of your best friends dancing horribly in a parking lot, laughter coming from the background of the clip. 

Out of habit, you find yourself scrolling through the rest of the post’s contents, finding various pictures of what you assume to be the girl’s friend group, neatly-arranged drinks in a cafe, pretty skies from places you recognize around campus. You don’t think much of the post until a particular picture catches your eye. 

To anyone else, it just looked like your typical soft-launch type post. There was no account tagged, but you’ve seen enough of the relationship-esque genre of pictures to recognize them when you see one. A set of masculine hands doodling hearts on the condensation of the driver’s seat window. The quality of the photo isn’t great, clearly being taken late at night, but the head that’s half cropped out of the photo is one you recognize all too well. The bleached blonde streaks towards the nape of the man’s neck confirms the suspicion brewing in your gut: It’s Taesan. You don’t really want to think too hard about why the inside of the car is fogging up the windows like that, or why it’s a heart he’s drawing, out of all things, because you know it’ll only hurt your feelings even more. 

Curiosity gets the best of you as you tap on the user who posted the image. kminji04. Kim Minji. You’re glad the profile was public in the first place, but maybe it wasn’t something you should be thankful for. You shouldn’t be diving head-first into this rabbit hole. But what you don’t know can’t hurt you, surely. 

You ignore your brain’s attempt at protecting you as you examine the profile further. Having your fair share of experience when it came to social media digging, it was easy to get an idea about who Kim Minji was. Her feed reflects the same feeling you got from the first post you saw— She seemed to take a liking to posting a variety of pictures that revealed different slices of her life. Looked to be an English major, and in the same year as you. She was undeniably stunning, model-like, even. Asides from Woonhak, you didn’t share many mutuals. You shouldn’t be looking too deep into this. You wouldn’t get anything good out of doing so.

You kept going. In her highlights, you didn’t notice anything too out of the ordinary. That is, until you got to one in particular, labeled only with a heart. Two weeks ago, a scenic view by the water. After that, two iced coffees are neatly placed side by side in a cute cafe, followed by other food-related pictures of the same nature. Clicking through the slides, you were about to write it off as just another compilation of aesthetic stills-- Except you see a familiar jacket appear in the background of one of the stories. The same jacket that currently resides in your closet. The same jacket Han Taesan wrapped around you before he kissed you for the first time. 

Putting together the pieces, you quickly realize the entire highlight showcased various dates they went on. You never got the chance to exchange anything besides a brief kiss and your number, but it was easy to find Taesan in both her followers and following. It was more than enough evidence for you to assume that it was Kim Minji he was talking to in the library. The one he called baby. He probably wore that jacket with her in the days leading up to the party. You think it’s dumb the way your heart hurts at the understanding; you’re unsure of why you yearn so badly for someone you’d only recently met, but maybe that’s why he built up such a reputation in the first place. 

[Instagram] the_myungjaeee: ok leave me on seen do u want me to kms

The notification on the top of your screen pulls you out of your thoughts. Rather than replying, you decide to open your messages, looking for one group chat in particular. 

to: “woonhak’s babysitters”! can i see u guys tmr :( 

The responses are instantaneous, and you’re happy to see that your friends are still awake– probably procrastinating their assignments as well. 

woonhak’s babysitters Jaehyun: OKAY NOW U TEXT THE GC INSTEAD OF REPLYING ON INSTAGRAM You: girl are u free or not Woonhak: yes let’s hang out Woonhak: but wats with the :( why are we :( y/n Jaehyun: bro ik u have my schedule memorized…. you KNOW i’m free  Jaehyun: don't forget we literally operate under the assumption that we are going to see each other everyday 🙄 Jaehyun: but ^^ is something wrong did something happen You: not really but i need to debrief again… 😀 Woonhak: mystery man? You: …….maybe 👎👎👎 meet at our usual cafe @ 3? Jaehyun: not u using us as love counselors again…. what’s in it for us 🤔 You: i’ll pay Jaehyun: 😍😍😍 SEE YOU GUYS TOMORROW 💯LOVE YOU! 😇

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

“It’s crazy how things taste better when you aren’t the one who paid for them!” Jaehyun stirs the iced coffee in his hand with the straw, grinning ear to ear.

“Yeah, whatever, I knew you would still show up even if I didn’t bribe you with free food.” You roll your eyes at the boy next to you, who is clearly enjoying the drink you just bought for him. “How can you tell if a guy is flirting with you?”

“You’re just going to drop a bomb on us like that?” Jaehyun lightheartedly criticizes. The teasing never seemed to stop when it came to talking about your love life, but you were glad to know they would always lend you an ear if you needed one. “Can you give us another hypothetical scenario for context?” 

“You remember how I texted that guy about his overdue book? Well, he showed up while I was working on Tuesday,”  They nod, listening intently as they periodically take small sips from their straws. “He’s always calling me pet names, like things my boyfriend should be saying... He even noticed I did my makeup differently that day too!” 

“I’m almost certain he likes you if he’s complimenting you like that all the time,” Woonhak affirms. “He’s definitely trying to woo you over with that sort of act.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I’d be so bold with calling a girl those names if I wasn’t at least somewhat into her. Did you ask him to hang out after your shift was over?”

“I mean, I tried to. He stepped away to answer his phone, and it sounded like he was talking to a girl. At least, I think he was.” You’re fairly certain that you were right, but maybe it was safer not to jump to conclusions. 

“What makes you think that?”

“He kept talking about how he was almost done and that he’d be coming over soon… And he called them baby.” Who else would he call ‘baby’ if not another girl? Talking about it out loud brings back all the conspiracies going through your head when you’d stalked Minji’s profile before bed. 

“Wow, what kind of man would call someone that after blatantly flirting with you? I was almost rooting for him until you said that, you know.” Woonhak looks disappointed as he picks up a strawberry off the plate on the table and pops it into his mouth. 

The conversation goes dull for a moment, sounds from neighboring tables filling the silence at the table. “Woonhak, how do you know Kim Minji?” You pry, deciding not to dance around the question that could give you the answers you were desperately searching for.

“Minji? She helped me write some papers for English 301,” He’s taken aback by the direct question, but he answers quickly regardless. “She’s really nice though! I was hanging out with her and a bunch of other people the other week.”

“Woonhakie, what was that video she posted of you?” Jaehyun’s laugh rings throughout your corner of the cafe as he recalls the post he sent you last night. “You looked so funny dancing like that!” 

“Ah, is that what we’re talking about? Yeah, I lost a bet and I had to dance to a random song for three whole minutes. l didn’t think she’d post that though… Why do you ask?”

“...Is she dating anyone?” You shyly ask.

“What, are you interested? I have her number if you want it-“

“She’s pretty, but that’s not really what I’m trying to get at here,” You take a moment to think about how you’re going to go about this conversation. Might as well just rip off the bandaid. “Is she dating Han Dongmin?”

“Dongmin? I don’t know anyone named Dongmin.”

“Mm, Taesan?” You correct yourself by addressing him by his nickname. 

“Oh, that guy with the weird hair? I mean, he was with us a couple times,” Woonhak scratches the back of his head, trying to recall the events of the night. “But I don’t think they’re together. Not officially, at least.”

“I thought the contact I saw on your phone said Han Dongmin, though. Is he Han Taesan?” Jaehyun recollects the last time you went to them for advice. 

Cat’s out of the bag now. “Would you get mad at me if I said yes?” The laugh you let out is dry as you watch the condensation drip down the side of your cup. 

“What’s so bad about Taesan hyung?” Woonhak innocently asks, clearly lost.

“Woonhak, you know who he is right?” Jaehyun seems shocked as he seeks for confirmation.

“Duh, didn’t I just say he was out with my friends and I? I mean, who else has hair like that? I’m sure we’re talking about the same guy.”

“I don’t think you should keep talking to him, Y/N.” Jaehyun’s voice is stern from his place next to you. 

“Oh, you like Taesan Y/N?” Woonhak seems to finally grasp the situation. “You should’ve told me sooner! I’ve only met him a couple of times, but I could always invite you if I know he’s coming out with us! But then again… I only really see him when Minji is there.” Oh. He only shows up when Minji is there. Everything seems to make a bit more sense now. 

“Hey, am I even in this conversation?” Jaehyun whines, smacking the table with the palms of his hands. “I don’t like him for you, Y/N.” 

“Oooh… Are you jealous?” Woonhak wiggles his eyebrows at your best friend, who is clearly upset with the newly revealed identity of the main character in your dilemma. 

“Dude, I don’t even know why you’d say that. You know Y/N and I aren’t like that.” He’s glaring at the younger boy across from him, but his eyes soften when they turn back to you. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“If he’s dating Minji, then I guess there’s no reason for me to be talking to him anymore.” Your throat feels dry. You take a sip from your drink, which was untouched for the past ten minutes. 

“You’ve never heard anything about Taesan then, Woonhak?” The boy in question shakes his head no, waiting for an explanation. “Han Taesan; music major famous for his rager parties and picking up girls anywhere he can– If anything, I’m more surprised you haven’t heard any word of him just by being on campus.” 

“Okay, so he throws dope parties and is popular with girls. So what? Don’t act like you didn’t have girls from different classes lining up for you back in high school.”

“That’s not the same as what I’m trying to get at. Han Taesan goes through girls like they’re nothing. And this is our sweet Y/N we’re talking about here— Do you want her with a guy like him?” At this point, Jaehyun’s visibly frustrated with his naivety. 

You place your hand on his shoulder in an attempt to calm him down. “Oh, he’s like that? He just seems so… Normal?” Woonhak comments, seemingly in disbelief, that Jaehyun’s version of Han Taesan is the same as his.

“Yeah, I thought that too.” Your voice trails off. You wanted to smack your past self for thinking everything everyone said about Taesan wasn’t true. That they were just baseless rumors. 

“Sorry, Y/N. If Taesan is really that kind of person, I don’t want him with you either. Plus, Minji was practically all over him that one time so maybe they actually are a thing-“

“Not the best thing to say right now, bro.” Woonhak shrinks in his seat, shutting himself up by taking a bite of the pastry he had in front of him. “So do you have feelings for him, Y/N? Didn’t you meet like, two weeks ago?” You nod, ashamed to admit the way you feel about someone who only came into your life recently. Sure, you’ve had similar crush upbringings in the past, but this felt different than your previous temporary infatuations. “I don’t think it’ll be easy, but I think you should take a couple steps back when it comes to a guy like him.” 

“Normally I wouldn’t be one to butt in so heavily when it comes to the guys you like, but I seriously have a bad feeling about him now.” Woonhak frowns, feeling like he lost his previous appetite.  

“Hell, if he’s getting all up close and personal with another girl and then telling you to kiss him the next time you’re at his place, it sounds like he only wants one thing from you. You’re just going to end as another one of his hook-ups.” You gnaw on the plastic straw in your cup as Jaehyun goes on. 

Just another one of his hook-ups. And with how well-known Taesan was around campus, people would find out who you were sooner or later. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad. At the very least, you could probably see him more often if you were friends with benefits– What the hell are you saying?

“Don’t even think about it.” Almost as if reading your mind, Jaehyun raises his voice at you. You’re startled at his tone, flinching a bit in your chair. “Fuck, sorry. You don’t deserve to be discarded like one of his one night stands, is all I’m saying.” 

“I second that,” Woonhak’s equally as upset as Jaehyun now. “Man, screw this Han Taesan… Han Dongmin… Whoever he is. Literally any other guy would be better for you.” 

“I figured you’d react like this if I told you it was him from the beginning.” You tuck your hair behind your ear, chuckling at your friends’ concern. “Was it so wrong for wanting to see if he isn’t the bad guy that everyone makes him out to be?” 

“...I guess not, but if you knew he was a shit person, why even bother trying in the first place?” Jaehyun looks at you with genuine confusion written all over his face. 

“Dunno. I just thought I’d be interesting enough for him to want something more with me.” Maybe if you were prettier, or more popular. Maybe just then, that’d be enough for Han Taesan to change his ways. 

“I wish you saw yourself the same way we see you, Y/N.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

It’s been a few days since you broke down the situation properly with Jaehyun and Woonhak in the cafe. Even if whatever you had between you and Taesan was close to nothing, it’s hard to deny that it hurt a bit to think that your story ended so fast. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want things to end up like this. Rather than dwelling too hard on what could’ve been, you focused all your energy on cramming for the test you needed to study for. 

Despite that, you still found yourself wishing the two of you could run into each other, just once more. When you leave the elective class you share with Sungho, you scan around the building in hopes of getting a glimpse of Taesan’s hair in the hallways. When the library doors slide open, you can’t stop yourself from looking up from your monitor just in case he’s come to return his book. If Jaehyun knew you still had him on your mind after his scolding, he’d be furious. 

Unlocking the door to your shared apartment, you melt into the couch after another session of tutoring Woonhak after he’d desperately begged you to save him from failing his math class. The agreement was that he would pay for your lunch for an entire week in exchange for your help– You would’ve helped him regardless, but you wanted to see how desperate he would get for a tutor.

“Long day?” Minnie, your roommate, and friend from high school, greets you from her place in the kitchen. 

“Yeah, Woonhak is impossible to teach sometimes. He gets distracted every five minutes, I swear.” You complain as you run your hands through your hair.

“Aw, that sounds like him. How’s he doing?” The girl rests her head in her hand as she leans onto the kitchen island, looking over at you. 

“Good, aside from the fact that he currently has a 64 in math.” You chuckle, closing your eyes as you lean back into the plush pillows.

Minnie snorts, moving to open the fridge and bending down to find a drink. “Want something?” 

You pry one of your eyes open to see the girl waiting for your response by the refrigerator door. “Why not? I’m gonna need something to take away all the stress of trying to get Woonhak to understand how derivatives work,” Minnie smiles at you as she grabs two cans, bringing them to the living room and handing you one.

“Beer? Gross.” The drink feels cool in your hand as you look at the label. “It’s all we have, unless you want to go buy something different yourself,” She cracks the can open and takes a gulp, groaning at the carbonation.

You pout at her, but you open your drink and take a sip yourself regardless. “You wouldn’t want to come with me?” 

“Nope, I’m all showered and comfy already. You’d catch me dead before you see me leaving the apartment at this time.” You laugh as you stretch your arms into the air before they fall at your side comfortably. “You aren’t going to shower yet?” 

“Hey, it’s a Friday night. A girl can’t relax in her living room anymore?” 

“Yeah, a Friday night you spent three hours hunched up in those old study rooms again.” She props her legs up on the coffee table from her seat next to you, scrolling on her phone. “When was the last time you went out? You gotta take me with you next time.”

Taesan’s party. You weren’t one to go out too often, and you weren’t sure about the next time you would given the way your last outing ended. “Three weeks ago? I don’t remember.” You bluff; practically every detail from that night and the days that followed it were etched into your memory. 

Placing your can down on the table, you get up. “I’m gonna wash up, I’ll be back.” Minnie hums at you as she looks up briefly from what she was watching. You picked up the bag that you’d haphazardly thrown on the floor when you first got back and made your way to your room. Opening your drawers, you sort through your sleepwear, looking for one of your sweatshirts. On the bed, you hear your phone vibrating against the comforter. 

“Ugh, no way Woonhak has another question. He said he didn’t need my help anymore.” Taking off your clothes from the day and throwing on your hoodie and shorts, you move closer to look at who’s calling you.

Incoming call from “Han Dongmin”!

Just when you thought you weren’t going to hear from him again. What could he be possibly calling you for? If anything, you would’ve thought he’d be throwing another party. Or maybe he dialed the wrong person? You let it ring twice more before picking it up. 

“Hello?” You curse silently at the way your voice shakes when you speak. 

There’s laughter coming from the other end, alongside muffled voices. Is this some sort of prank? You’re about to hang up when you don’t get an immediate response. “Y/N? Hi.” It’s been a while since you heard him. 

“Taesan? Why are you calling me?”

“Not the name I want to hear from you, angel.” You let out an annoyed laugh, sitting on the edge of your bed. He has the nerve to talk to you as if he didn’t ghost you for the past two weeks. “Haven’t heard your sweet voice in a while. I guess I miss talking to you.”

“Dongmin, what’s this about?” You feel your heartbeat speed up, much to your disappointment. Curse him for having you wrapped around his finger still even when you thought you were getting over him. 

“There’s my girl,” He chuckles into the mic. “You busy?” You’re taken aback at his words. His girl. 

“Fuck off, don’t call me again.” …Is what you want to say, but your cheeks heat up against your will. You feel your composure falling apart at the mere sound of his voice. “...No. I just got home.” 

“Come over then.” Now, it really feels like a setup. You knew there were other people with him; he could have you on speaker for all you know. He’s probably trying to show off how easy it is to call a girl over at midnight. “...Only if you want to. It’s only me and a couple of other people here.” 

“Like who?”

“Leehan, of course. And some of my friends, Matthew, Heeseung, Minji.” His voice hushes into a whisper as he continues his thought. “To be honest, there’s a few more people here, but I can’t remember their names right now.” He giggles at his confession. It’s uncharacteristically cute– you’ve never heard him laugh like that before. 

Kim Minji. Another name you’d temporarily erased from your mind. “Who’re you talking to?” It’s Leehan; he sounds like he’s a couple feet away from Taesan, but you can tell it’s him by his voice.

You’re silent as you wait to hear what he says in response. Surely he wouldn’t admit to talking to another girl in front of his girlfriend. But then again, maybe he didn’t care to be cautious when it came to things like this. “Y/N, duh. You wanna talk to her?”

“Ah, I don’t really think you need to-” You get out, not seeing the point in talking to his roommate at this point of time, but ultimately getting cut off by Leehan taking the phone. 

“Hey, Y/N. Long time no see, yeah?” His baritone tone shocks you, sounding much deeper now that he’s properly speaking into the phone. “Our sweet Taesan over here was hogging the joint while he was chatting you up, so I hope you understand why I had to pull you away for a sec there.” Ah. He’s high. 

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t know,” You fiddle with the string of your hoodie as you apologize, even if there isn’t anything for you to be sorry for. “I’m going to hang up now, just tell Dongmin I’m going to sleep or something.”

“Woah, hold up. Your Dongmin called you for a reason. You’re free to come over, you know. You don’t need to smoke with us, it’s cool.” There are more voices in the background, but the phone struggles to pick up the noise. “Who am I to stop a pretty lady like yourself from coming to our house again?” You can hear him smile as he talks. 

If Jaehyun would be mad if he found out you were just thinking about Han Taesan, he’d be livid if he knew you were seriously considering taking up the offer. Rustling comes from the other end, and you assume it’s Taesan getting his phone back.

“Hey, don’t try and take what’s mine, Leehan.” There he was again, calling you his. At this point, the title seemed rather fitting with the way you’re still on call, even after your friends warned you about the man you were speaking to.

“I’d love to see you again, Y/N.” Your name rolling off his lips sounds foreign, especially when he’s been known to exclusively call you pet names. “Door’s unlocked if you show up. Don’t keep me waiting too long, yeah?” 

There’s a small beep as he ends the call, giving you no chance to keep the conversation going. You fall back onto your bed, groaning out loud. “Are you okay?” You hear your roommate ask you from down the hallway. 

“Yeah, I’m good!” Not really, though. You’re upset at how quickly you decided to get ready to leave the apartment nstead of getting ready for bed like you initially intended to. Standing up, you move over to the mirror to address your current appearance. You internally thank Taesan for not calling you to come over after you’ve taken off your makeup completely. You touch it up slightly, glad that it hadn’t worn off much during the day. Grabbing your perfume on the dresser, you spritz yourself a couple times with the sweet scent. The clothes you would’ve worn to sleep were good enough– After all, it's likely nobody will be in the right state of mind to care too much about what you had on anyways.

You make your way back to the living room, walking past the couch where your roommate was still sitting. “You going somewhere? Aren’t you in your pajamas?” Minnie looks up at you with a confused expression on her face, beer can in hand. 

“Yeah, just going to stop by a friend’s place real quick.” You grab your keys off of the coffee table before moving towards the door.

She gives you a skeptical look, raising her eyebrow at your explanation. “I’m not going to ask you any more questions, but don’t do anything you’ll regret. I’ll be awake if you need me to save you or something– And don’t come back too late!”

“Got it, Mom.” The two of you share a laugh as you walk out into the hallway of your apartment complex, hearing the door beep as it locks shut behind you. You internally apologize to Woonhak and Jaehyun as you wait for the elevator to come up to your floor. You were seriously doing this, huh?

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

In any other situation, you probably wouldn’t be going out of your way to walk across campus at midnight— But because it’s a Friday, there were groups of students roaming around, making their way to bars or house parties. 

The weather was perfect for the walk, albeit it was only about ten minutes long. Even in your shorts, you weren’t too cold on the short trip to the house. It was hard to expect anything in particular by showing up, but you prayed you wouldn’t feel like a fool no matter what happened tonight. 

Just as Taesan said, the door to the house was unlocked; you turned the knob and slowly opened it, revealing the familiar interior. It was significantly cleaner than the last time you were there, probably because they weren’t throwing a party tonight. In this sort of setting, it looked more like a regular home than anything. The led lights towards the ceiling were set to a cool purple, enveloping the room in the color. The speakers were playing music, but at a more casual volume; just loud enough to hear the people you were talking to without being too disruptive to the conversation, maintaining a chill background noise for the smoke session you walked into. 

“Y/N? Come sit with us. Taesan just left to go buy some drinks.” Leehan’s head pops up at your entrance, motioning you to sit next to him on the couch with his hand. “You know anyone here?”

Taking the spot next to him, you glance around the faces scattered around the room. You’re glad they’re all preoccupied with passing around a bong, otherwise you wouldn’t be looking at everyone so shamelessly. There were only about six other people there, but you could only name Minji from her Instagram profile.

You shake your head no in response, giving him an awkward smile. “That’s okay, it doesn’t really matter. You can just stick by me tonight, then.” Leehan reassures you, oddly sweet compared to your last interaction. “Do you smoke?”

“Not really,” You answer. Weed wasn’t your drug of choice– you would’ve much rather preferred to drink, but it wasn’t something you were opposed to. It wouldn’t hurt, right? If anything, it’ll help you take away all the anxiety that was currently weighing down your shoulders. “I’ll smoke tonight though. It’s hard not to join in when you’ve all started without me.” There was no way in hell you were going to stay in that room longer than fifteen minutes if you were sober. 

“Atta girl, I knew you would fit right in.” The brunette praises as he reaches to pick up the tray on the table. You watch as Leehan fills up the rolling paper, skillfully turning it into a neatly packed joint. It’s kind of mesmerizing– you can tell he does this often with the way he finishes in an instant, licking the edge of the paper to close it. Of course, he doesn’t fail to make eye contact as he does so, effectively bringing a blush to your cheeks. Leehan’s looks were no joke. 

It made so much sense to think that Leehan and Taesan were roommates. Leehan reaches into the pocket of his shirt, pulling out a neon green lighter. He places the joint in his mouth, cupping the end and inhaling as he lights it on fire. His head is thrown back onto the couch as he exhales into the air after holding it towards you, urging you to take a hit of your own. 

You take the spliff from him, noticing how large his hands are in comparison to your own. Your actions mimic his; bringing it up to your lips and breathing in the smoke. You immediately cough at the taste, embarrassed that your body seems to reject the weed despite having done this before. Leehan giggles at you, covering his mouth as he rubs the small of your back to help your coughing fit. 

“First time?” He takes it back from you, holding it between his fingers as it burns into the air. “You can be honest, I won’t judge.”

“...No, but it’s been a while.” The two of you are in your own bubble at this point, as you pay no mind to the other people just a couple of feet away. Almost as a means of proving yourself, you snatch the joint from his hand, taking another deep inhale-- successfully without interruption this time, making you internally sigh in relief. The two of you go back and forth sharing it, alternating hits as it slowly shrinks, his spare hand resting on your bare thigh throughout the whole thing. 

“You look like a natural now,” His laugh is breathy; he looked dazed over. It’s unknown how long they’d been at it before you arrived. “You feeling it yet?” He questions as he looks you in the eyes; his own are already glazed over, making them sparkle more than they normally did.

You can’t hold in your giggle at seeing him in such a state. “You are, that’s for sure.” You’re not sure when the two of you moved closer to each other, but your shoulders are touching as you both rest against the comfort of the couch. “I feel really good.” 

The eye contact between you two is broken as you look towards the sound of the door opening. Taesan walks through the entrance with a case of drinks under his arm, taking off his shoes before placing the box onto the table, only after taking one for himself. His face lights up once he sees you on the couch, sending you a grin as he takes his place next to Minji. “Nice to see you again, pretty.” 

Oh, right. You almost forgot she was here– you were so caught up in smoking with Leehan that you weren’t trying to get to know any of the other session attendees. Not that anyone cared, though. Most of them were just lying around, either swaying to the music that continuously played throughout the room, eating from the bags of open snacks laid out on the table, or nonverbal on their phones. 

Minji tries to wrap her arm around Taesan’s as he sits down, earning a side-eye from him as he gently pulls it away. It feels like you should be jealous after seeing that, but your mind is fuzzy. “Looks like Leehan stole my seat.” His tone is passive-aggressive as he addresses the man currently curled up next to you.

“Your seat? Maybe you should’ve called dibs if you wanted to sit next to Y/N so bad. I got her fair and square.” Leehan bites back. “I don’t know why you left right after you asked her to come over.”

He moves to put his arm around you– you can tell he’s trying to push his roommates’ buttons, and you decide to play into it. You two share a brief look, mischief in your eyes, as you both silently understand what you were doing. Instead of pushing his arm away like Taesan had just done with Minji, you lean into it, resting your head by his shoulder as you take another inhale of smoke. The pair of roommates are entranced by the way the cloud leaves your mouth, swirling and twisting into the air before ultimately disappearing. 

Leehan moves the both of you to where you’re sitting up properly and takes his arm off of you. Across the room, Taesan can’t keep his eyes off of the two of you; the way you’re feeding into Leehan’s obvious moves on you. “Can I try something?” You’re a little lost, but you nod your head regardless. His fingers brush against yours as he takes the blunt from your fingers, now a little less than half the size it was when he first rolled it. 

He takes a long drag, pulling away while keeping the smoke in his mouth. You’re shocked to feel his hand on your cheek, bringing your face closer to his and using his thumb to part your mouth open. You also feel Han Taesan’s gaze burning into your skull, but you can’t turn to look with the grip Leehan has on you. 

Leehan slowly pushes the smoke out between his lips, which were currently only a couple of inches away from your own. You inhale instinctively, a bridge of smoke connecting you as you do so. The scene feels like it’s in slow motion, or maybe that’s just the high you’re currently feeling. You don’t know when other people began watching the exchange, but you can faintly hear witnesses egging on the intimate moment you’re sharing with Leehan. 

After all the smoke has passed between you, he moves his thumb to your mouth again, caressing your bottom lip gently. Leehan wants to kiss you. You know he’s not entirely there as he gives you a dopey grin, biting his own lip as his thoughts are fixated on how pretty he thinks you look right now. 

As much as you enjoyed the way Leehan was currently making you feel, you knew that it was all a game to him. It was significantly easier to read him– his intentions with you are as clear as day, unlike Taesan’s. The way he spoke to you didn’t fool you; his words were laced with nothing but lust, and you weren’t interested in taking it any further than it needed to be. This, you were sure of. With Han Taesan, you could never be too sure about what he was thinking. You wish it was this easy to see through him the way you could see through Leehan. 

You know exactly what you’re doing as you lean into the brunette. He smiles again, seemingly satisfied with your movements, as he closes his eyes and does the same. Of course he thinks he’s going to get what he wants. It pisses you off how smug he currently looks when he moves to kiss you.

“Please don’t, Y/N.” Right before you turn your head to swerve the kiss like you’d initially planned to, Taesan’s voice makes both you and Leehan halt your movements. His voice is… small. It’s not as confident as he would normally sound when talking to you; rather, it sounded like he was uncertain about whether or not you’d go as far as kissing his roommate in front of him. Leehan scoffs in annoyance, as he turns his head to look at the source of the interruption. 

“Way to cockblock, dude.” The room suddenly feels tense. You can feel more eyes on you now with the way Leehan’s voice pierces the music coming from the speakers. “She isn’t yours, you know that right? Just accept it, Taesan. If she wants to sleep with me, she can make that decision herself. Isn’t that right, Y/N?” You can’t tell if this is all a part of Leehan’s plan to piss off his friend, but you weren’t having it anymore.

“Leehan, I’m not going to sleep with you.” He’s laughing in disbelief-- Like he couldn’t believe anyone would turn him down like that, especially in front of people watching. You can tell his pride is hurt when he moves to the opposite end of the couch, as far away from you as he can get without having to stand up. 

“Your loss. I’m sure you’ve heard already, but I’m a good fuck-” Out of nowhere, Taesan is grabbing your wrist and brings you up to your feet, dragging you towards the door. Your limbs feel weightless as he holds on to you, your steps gliding on the hardwood floors. You’re barely able to put on your own shoes as you walk into the night, Taesan leading the way.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 

The cool air is refreshing; you take deep breaths, relishing at how nice it feels to be free from the smell of weed surrounding you. “Dongmin, you’re holding me too tight.” You pull back against his grasp, and he immediately drops your wrist, standing in front of you now.

“Why’d you do that?”

“Do what? I came over like you asked me to.” 

“Yeah, and you were all over Leehan when I walked in.”

“It should’ve been you,” You breathe out, just barely above a whisper. “He told me you left when I got there.”

“If you wanted it to be me, then why’d you let him do that? You know how he is.” He looks hurt as he confronts you, and you almost regret what you did back there.

“No, Dongmin, I don’t know how he is. And I also don’t know why you’re angry at me right now. You’re acting like I knew he was going to pull that stunt on me!” He doesn’t know why he’s feeling this way either. Your annoyance is clear as the night sky above you. 

“...Fine, say you didn’t know he was going to do that,” His brows furrowed as he interrogated you further.  “Why’d you lean in?”

“I knew you were watching us. I wasn’t going to kiss him either way.” You confess, not seeing the point in dancing around the bush. What you did could be seen as toxic, but you wanted to see if it would affect him at all-- to get him annoyed, jealous. Anything that could signal that he actually gave a shit about you. 

“Can you cut the bullshit? Do you want to sleep with my friend or not?”

“Did you not hear what I said to him? I told him straight to his face that I didn’t want to have sex with him– In front of everyone, for god’s sake Dongmin! Are you hearing yourself?” Taesan is quiet, not knowing what to say.

“Why does any of this matter to you?” You prod, impatiently awaiting his response. Because he likes you. Because you’re more than another one of his groupies. More than just a meaningless one night stand. You just need him to say it himself.

“Forget it, then. Where’s your apartment? It’s late, I’ll take you back.” He dismisses his previous outburst. You aren’t surprised that he changes the subject, but you wished he took the chance to clear up whatever it was between you two. 

“I can go on my own.” You turn away from him, knowing that if you look at him properly your resolve will fall almost immediately. 

“I’m not letting you walk back at one in the morning, Y/N. It’s not good for a pretty girl to go home alone like this.” Why does he want to ensure the safety of a girl he won’t even admit he has feelings for? 

“You don’t need to do that. I’ll just call someone while I go home, it’s not that serious.” You brush off his offer nonchalantly despite knowing you wouldn’t want to go back alone at this time of night. 

“I want to.” Taesan’s insistent; you didn’t take him as the type of guy to be so stubborn when it came to things like this. “It’s either you let me walk you home, or I’m just going to trail five feet behind you until I see you get back safe.” 

“You’d look like a freak doing that, by the way.” You tease, laughing at the image of him following you around like a bodyguard. 

“Oh, I’m very aware. Which is why I’m politely requesting that you let me walk you home.” His gaze is soft as he pleads with you for the last time. “Please, Y/N?” 

The next three minutes go by in silence, the only noise being the nearby chatter of the occasional groups of partygoers passing by the area. You never explicitly told him to go away, but he matches your pace as you make your way towards your apartment. 

Halfway through the walk, you realize that this could be your chance to talk to Taesan properly. A chance to learn more about him without any intrusions; to see the type of person he truly is. At this very moment in time, this is the closest thing he’ll ever be to being yours.

“I’m thirsty, Dongmin.” You blurt out, suddenly realizing how dry your mouth was, having had nothing to drink for the past hour. 

“Are we almost at your place? You can drink something when you get home, no?” His steps slow down as he turns to you, his hands resting in his pockets. He isn’t wrong, but you were searching for an excuse to extend the time you had alone with him. 

He’s met with your pouty face looking up at him, and he swears his composure dissolves in an instant; he would do anything for you right then and there. “…There’s a convenience store nearby.” 

Your face lights up as you put your hand out for him to take, telling him to bring you there. It’s things like this— you always manage to find a way to catch him off guard. Taesan’s not used to being the flustered one when it comes to women, but he'll gladly endure it if it was you doing it to him.  

The neon sign is bright in the dark of the night, lighting up both of your faces as the boy moves to open the door, motioning for you to go in first. You wrap your arms around your torso as you head towards the refrigerated section, selecting your drink of choice after some thought. “Are you hungry?” 

He shakes his head no, but his eyes are fixated on you across from him standing in your pajamas, playing with the strings of your hoodie as you stand in the middle of the convenience store. His heart is beating so fast, he’s worried you can hear it from where you are. “Why are you looking at me like that, Dongmin?”

The speed in which his cheeks turn pink is endearing. “Uh, your eyes are red.” Taesan clears his throat as he looks back to the various beverages in front of them, pretending to read the labels as he puts an end to his obvious ogling. 

“Thanks, genius. Who would’ve guessed?” You tuck the bottle you were holding under your arm, moving to look through the aisles of snacks and pre-packaged food lining the store. “You aren’t high anymore?” 

“I stopped smoking right after I got off call with you. I don’t really feel it.” To be honest, Taesan wasn’t much of a smoker either, but you didn’t need to know that. The smoke sesh was planned by none other than his roommate, and Taesan only happened to walk in on it after returning home from one of the campus recording booths. He only took a few hits before he thought it’d be a good way to invite you over; it was not nearly enough to get him in the floaty state you were coming down from. 

“Well, I still am. And I’m fucking starving,” He lets out a small laugh, watching you exaggeratedly ponder about which pack of instant ramen you were going to get. “Do you want anything?” 

“Mm, no. Not that hungry.” You squat down to the floor in an attempt to see the bottom shelves better. He’s glancing around the aisle as well, moving to pick up something from above you. When you turn to look at him again, he’s holding out a cup of Shin Ramyun in your face. 

You tilt your head. “I thought you didn’t want anything, though?” 

“I don’t,” He answers matter-of-factly. “This is one of my favorites.” You hesitantly take the ramen from his hands as you get up, walking towards the cashier at the front of the store without any further comment.

You can feel Taesan standing behind you as you both watch the worker scan your drink and ramen. “It’s going to be 3,000 won.” Pulling out your phone to pay, your face recognition fails once, preventing you from opening your Apple wallet. You send an apologetic smile to the cashier for the hold-up.

Your card finally shows up on your screen, allowing you to finally tap the corner of the pay screen– except you’re met with Taesan’s hand holding his card and paying for your items. “Thank you, have a nice night!” The worker pushes your purchases towards you on the counter. Taesan moves to pick them up from behind you, bringing it to a table in the corner of the store.

He slides out the chair for you, which you move to sit in afterwards. Taesan grabs your drink and twists the cap off, offering the opened bottle to you. You gladly accept, taking big gulps and soothing your cottonmouth. “I could’ve done that myself, Dongmin. Same with paying back there.” 

“I know,” Opening up the ramen halfway, he brings the cup up to the hot water dispenser, filling up the line inside. “You probably haven’t noticed it, but you’re moving in slow motion. It makes me want to take care of you.” His last comment is just barely loud enough for you to hear. He finally sits down next to you after he uses a pair of chopsticks to pin the cover of the ramen closed while it cooks.

“I owe you then,” You comment, taking another sip from the bottle in your hand. 

He almost looks offended at your offer to pay off your debt, waving his hand no in front of your face. “Just take it as an apology for me lashing out at you earlier… Sorry. I don’t know why I got so angry back at the house.” 

You want to roll your eyes and tell him the answer to his obliviousness. Surely he should know why. It’s because you like me, isn’t it? Perhaps it’s a big conclusion to jump to, but it’s the only reason that would justify his jealousy after seeing you and Leehan together. 

Taesan takes the chopsticks off of the cup ramen, breaking them apart and mixing together the noodles. Bringing a wad of noodles into the air, he gently blows on it, the steam rising into the air. You gasp at the smell, suddenly reminded of the intense case of munchies you were experiencing. He hums as he finishes cooling down the bite, bringing the chopsticks to your mouth. “Here.” 

Is he trying to feed you? Your eyebrows raise in shock, moving away slightly before leaning in, accepting the food he was holding out for you. The smile he gives you as he watches you eat is sickeningly sweet; he looks content seeing you so happy while you eat. Taking the chopsticks from his hand, you mirror his actions, except this time you offer a bite to the boy currently watching your every move.

It was cute the way he looked like a surprised puppy once he realized you were giving him a bite of his own. He opens his mouth, letting you feed him the cooled-down noodles. You watch as a blush creeps up his neck once more; he covers his mouth as he chews, looking away to avoid your gaze. “Thanks.” He utters, voice quiet with the way he was currently refusing to face you.

This side of Taesan is what truly baffled you. Despite your tendency to fall for people quicker than most, you were smart enough to catch onto the signs of someone liking you back. And in Han Taesan’s case, it couldn’t be clearer to you– his usual cool-guy image disappearing when it comes to you, his atypical moments of concern, his jealousy when it comes to other men, his current acts of service. 

Even to Woonhak and Jaehyun, it sounded like Taesan liked you. The only thing that made you question your theory was the fact that he seemed to have a tendency to run. To run away when things between you two became a little too real. But what was holding him back from being honest with himself? 

“Do I make you nervous, Dongmin?” You wanted to try and pry the words you wanted to hear out from him. 

Now, he reminded you of a deer caught in headlights. His head snaps back towards you, eyes the widest you’ve ever seen them. His sudden movements make him choke on the ramen he has in his mouth. Your hand immediately moves to his back to pat it as he coughs. Pushing your bottle of water towards him, he gladly takes a swig from it to end his coughing fit. “Why do you think that? Do I seem nervous around you?”

“Sort of. I can’t really think of a good way to describe it right now.” You pick up the chopsticks that were resting on the side of the cup to take another bite into your mouth. “But I feel like there’s more to you than what you let on.”

He’s resting his head on his hand now, elbow propped up on the metal table. “What do you mean? You think I’d be different than I am now?”

“Not exactly. In fact, I think the way you act with me is what I’d expect from you. It’s more like… With what little I know about you, I’d think you weren’t this sweet just based on how you look.”

“...Is there something bad about the way I look?”

You scoff, playfully pushing his shoulder. “You can’t seriously be acting like this right now. Everyone on campus thinks you’re hot.” It’s true, yourself included. 

“Oh, is that so?” His lips curve up into a smile. You both know damn well that he’s attractive. 

“Whatever,” Grabbing the drink sitting in front of him, you wash down the taste of your last bite. “I think I’ve almost got you figured out, Dongmin. There’s just a couple things I can’t quite place.” It’s only somewhat true, but you were hoping saying this would make him open up about himself more. 

 “If that’s the case, you could’ve just asked me, angel.” Taesan looks taken aback at your admission. In all honesty, he doesn’t know what you’re referring to, but that doesn’t stop him from wanting to find out. “What do you want to know?”

“Anything, really.”

“Anything?”

“You realize you probably know nothing about me, right? I’d say the same about you.”

“What? That’s not true,” He pauses for a second to think about what he could possibly recall about you, only to find that you were right. “Oh. I guess you have a point.” He scratches the back of his head, feeling guilty agreeing with what you just said. “It’s weird, though. I feel like I’m comfortable with you even if we don’t know each other that well.” 

“So, are you going to tell me more about yourself or should we just keep pretending we’re friends like we have been this whole time?” 

He pouts at you. “You don’t think we’re friends?” 

“...Okay, I’ll get going then.” You glare at him as you clean up your mess, dumping it into the empty ramen cup. You move to stand up, only to find him tugging gently on your sweatshirt sleeve and pulling you back down into your chair. 

“Sorry, I was just joking,” He gives you an apologetic look before straightening his posture and turning to face you better. Your knees were touching now, faces only a couple feet away from each other. “Where should I start, then? My MBTI or something?”

“Whatever you feel like telling me, Dongmin. I’m not looking for anything in particular.” You shrug. You truly didn’t know anything about him from just your interactions and what you heard people say about him, which weren’t necessarily the best, to say the least. Anything he said would be new information to you.

“I don’t really think MBTI is that serious, but I’m an INTJ. I wanted to be an idol until I graduated middle school, but I don’t think that kind of spotlight fits me too well anymore. That’s why I settled on being a music major instead. I think I’d rather be behind the scenes instead of being on the main stage all the time.” 

You can feel a smile creeping up on your face at the way he’s genuinely indulging in your request. “I can see it. You being an idol, that is.”

“You think so? I don’t know. Seems pretty tiring to keep up an act like that all the time. Plus, I think I’m happy where I am right now,” Taesan looks down at his hands, twiddling his thumbs as he continues. “It’d be hard to not be able to see my family all the time as an idol.”

“Your family?”

“Yeah, I have two younger siblings back at home. I miss them a lot, even if I’m not that far from home. It’s kind of sad to think that I miss out on watching them grow up when I’m at school.” 

You place your hand atop his, making him stop his fidgeting. Just like that, Han Taesan felt a lot more real to you. He feels like Han Dongmin. “I’m sorry. It must be difficult for you then, huh?”

“Oh, yeah, sometimes.” He takes your hand in his, playing with your fingers now instead. The action makes you giggle to yourself; he really resembled a big baby. “It’s fine though, I text them all the time. My dad’s always sending me pictures of our new dog or them having dinner together. It’s not like I can’t call them when I want to. I’m just grateful.”

You hum in acknowledgment. “Yeah, I get it. It’s nice having some of my friends from high school go here too, otherwise, I think I’d be way too homesick for my liking.”

“Are you far from home then?”

“I’m only a couple hours away, but I’m kind of sappy when it comes to things like that. Like, I find a lot of sentimental meaning in different things, and my hometown obviously holds a lot of that for me, growing up there and all.” 

“It’s great you have people here you know though, seriously. When I first got here, I knew no one. I only met Leehan by chance at some club event I went to.” Taesan lets out a small laugh at the memory. “He was a lot different back then, I’d say. He pisses me off sometimes, but he’s a good friend most of the time. Dude’s a lot more normal when it’s just us at the house together.” 

You think back to your few interactions shared with his roommate. How different could he have been if that’s the way he acts now? It’s hard to imagine Leehan anything else than your typical college fuckboy, but you initially saw the boy sitting next to you the same way, so you don’t write it off as impossible.

“I don’t know why I’m talking about him. He’s been annoying me lately,” The grip he has on your hand tightens slightly, but quickly returns to his previous gentle hold. “Who are your friends from home? Sungho and Riwoo?”

“Huh? No, I only met them last year, but they’re the best. It was some dumb assigned group project thing, but we get along really well. I’m usually hanging out with my friends Jaehyun and Woonhak, though.” Saying their names aloud reminds you of how they pleaded with you to drop Han Taesan just days before this– yet here you were, your hand in his as you talked about your lives in the middle of the local convenience store. 

“Ah, Woonhak? He’s younger than us, right?” You nod, completely forgetting that Woonhak was the reason you found out that there was another girl Taesan was currently entertaining. “He’s funny, I’ve hung out with him a few times here and there. He keeps asking me to show him what songs I’ve been writing recently.” 

This makes you think they were closer than they really were, but you knew it was just Woonhak’s usual (endearingly) nosy self at work. “Wow, Woonhak gets to hear them but I can’t?” You pull your hand away from him to grab at your chest, pretending that the realization broke your heart. 

“Come on baby, don’t be like that.” Taesan takes your hand back into his, letting them rest where your knees meet. “I can show you sometime, just not now though. I’ve been working on something special recently, and it’s not perfect yet.” 

“Do you call everyone that?” His eyes meet yours, tilting his head to the side slightly. 

Upon understanding what you’re trying to get at, he waves his free hand in front of you defensively. “Ah, it’s not like that. Just force of habit, I guess?”

“Okay, so by force of habit, you mean yes. I got it.” Taesan opens his mouth to defend himself again, but you cut him off. “Don’t freak out, I don’t really care. We’re friends, right?” You laugh to yourself at the irony of your own statement. Yeah, friends who kiss and call each other pet names. So stupid. 

The chime above the door jingles as a group of very obviously inebriated college students come in, loudly seeking out food to satisfy their drunk cravings. “It’s getting late, can I walk you home properly now?” 

Quickly cleaning up after yourselves, you both make your way out of the convenience store before you run into more groups of people coming back from the parties that just ended. Taesan grabs your hand as you start walking, interlocking your fingers in his. You were surprised, but definitely not complaining. The way his large hand felt in comparison to yours was addicting; you’d never let go if you could. Feeling your phone buzz in your pocket, you use your free hand to see who’s texting you. 

2 new messages from “babygirl minnie”! Minnie: babe r u coming home tonight or do i need to pick u up from somewhere 🤔 Minnie: i’m going to sleep in like 20 mins lmk ASAP or ill kill u 😘 to: “babygirl minnie”! You: yes mother i’m omw back now 👍 u dont need to stay up someone’s walking back with me

You watch the screen as she hearts your message almost immediately, and you slip your phone back into your pocket. “Who’s that?” Taesan asks, who was peering over his shoulder while you replied.

“It’s my roommate. She’s worried I’m not going to get back safe.” 

“I would be too if I had a beautiful girl like you as my roommate walking all by herself at this time.” His hand squeezes yours gently as you walk, the night sky littered with stars. The route you were taking home wasn’t your usual route. In fact, it was the longest path you could take without straying too far off campus. Was it so wrong to want to hold hands with Han Taesan as long as you possibly could?

“I wish I got to see you like this more often, Dongmin.” 

“Well, you’re seeing me now. That’s not enough for you, angel?” His steps slow down, making you stop as well. 

“That’s not what I meant. It was nice to talk to you normally for once.”

“Ah, so my girl wants to talk to me more. I’m just a call away, you know.”

You scoff at his words. “We both know that’s not true.” If you even tried calling, would he bother to answer? For all you know, he’d just go back to leaving you with nothing but radio silence for days on end.

“…I don’t know what you’re trying to say.”

“What I want to know is why you treat me so nicely and then disappear for a week?” It might be the effects of your high coming to an end, but you suddenly feel all the frustration you’d previously felt when it came to Taesan coming out of nowhere. “Fuck, I hate to ruin the nice moment we just had but it’s hard not to say something when you make me feel like an idiot every time.”

In front of you, Taesan stares back with a blank expression. Nothing. It’s as if he doesn’t even know what he’s been doing to you. Seeing his face just angers you further. “Hell, I don’t even know why it’s so hard for me to not come running back to you the second you call. I look ridiculous going back to you even when my best friends told me not to.”

“Y/N, calm down. You’re thinking too deeply about things right now. Maybe it’s the weed.” Taesan tries to put his hand on your arm, but you pull away immediately. You felt like he wasn’t hearing anything you were saying. 

“Am I just someone you hit up when you’re lonely? Just someone who’s conveniently always going to answer? That’s the last person I’d want to be to you.”

“C’mon, sweetheart. You’re more than that to me, okay?” 

“I wish I could find it in me to believe you, Taesan.” 

“I don’t like hearing you call me that.” Hearing his nickname come from your mouth felt like an arrow to the heart, for some reason. It all felt wrong. You shouldn’t be calling him that intentionally; it wasn’t right coming from you. Taesan didn’t want you to see him the same way everyone else did, but he couldn’t explain why.  

“Even things like this, like calling you by your real name. You make it feel like you genuinely care about me, even when you have other girls wrapped around your finger the same way you have me. It’s like you go out of your way to make me feel special only to forget about me the next day!”

“Darling, you are special to me. I don’t know how else to prove it to you.” He couldn’t be serious. How did he expect you to feel special when, for all you know, he could be treating his next girl the exact same way? 

“You confuse me, Taesan.  Because just now, in that convenience store, you seemed like you were telling me things you haven’t told other people, but I know that the chances of me even hearing from you tomorrow are slim.”

“You’re acting like we’re dating or something. We were never anything like that, Y/N.” He spits back without thinking, feeling equally as frustrated now. The night air felt colder than it did before. Whether or not Han Taesan reciprocated your feelings, he was completely oblivious to his actions. Leehan was right. Taesan wasn’t yours, nor were you his, but you felt like tonight told you everything you needed to know. 

Your mouth opens in disbelief. “Don’t say that shit to me,” You turn on your heel, angrily resuming your way back to your apartment. Taesan raises his arm, debating on whether or not to try and stop you from ending the conversation as is, ultimately letting it fall back to his side. You look back at him after a few steps. “I’m fine going home on my own, so don’t bother following me to my place.” 

Han Taesan knew he screwed up. 

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© lionhanie 2024 ; all rights reserved!

[ilovetulips]

fem!reader x older!tattooartist!eddiemunson

part 2 !

WARNINGS : smut 18+ pls ,, age gap (ages aren’t rlly mentioned but r is 21, e is 39) ,, p in v and all the stuff that comes w it ,, lots of petnames ,, use of yn!

A/N : first smut ive ever written. so scared rn. hope u all like it

———

you’d be lying if you said you weren’t absolutely petrified walking into the small hallway containing each tattooist’s room. your legs were shaking and your heart was pounding, so much so that your vision blurred as you stepped up to your assigned room.

“eddie munson”, you could eventually make out from the sign on the door.

entering the spacious room, you look around and take in the darkened walls littered with various drawings, the long bed on the left side covered in cellophane and the faint sound of music playing.

it took you a while to finally catch sight of the mess of dark curls on the right hand side, bopping his head to the music slightly, small grey hairs shining in the light and his hand scratching his pencil against the paper below him.

“h…hi.” you voice squeaked out in a stutter, sounding completely different to how you usually speak.

“can i help you?” he barks out rudely, not even turning to look at you.

“oh i’m sorry, i must’ve got the wrong room. sorry for disturbing you.” you begin to back out of the doorway behind you, before his brown eyes shoot up and meet yours.

“shit- sorry sweet thing, thought you were maria from next door. c’mere, sit down.” he gives you a cheesy smile while his eyes widen slightly. “you my 2 o’clock, yeah?”

your palms shine with a thin layer of sweat, originating from both excitement and nerves. “mhm, should be under the name y/n.”

“gottcha sweetheart, beautiful name. what’s a sweet thing like you doing in a place like this, hm?”he rolls over in his chair to where you’re sat on the bed, placing his large palms over your trembling knees.

he smirks down at them before focusing on you, his pupils blowing out and looking at your lips every now and then.

“it’s m’first tattoo… can you tell?” you look up at him shyly through your eyelashes, his face intimidating you - not that you were scared of him, he was just really attractive.

“yeah, you’re shakin’ like a leaf doll, but i’m here to help ya stay calm. whattcha thinking of getting?” he tucks a stray hair of your behind your ear before leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.

god his arms were consumed in ink, only adding to his attractive qualities.

———

you spoke to eddie about the design, placement and all necessary paperwork before you were relaxed on the bed, laying on your side and watching the boy prep his tattoo machine.

you had a few voice cracks and stuttered a bit while talking to him, mostly due to his stare shrinking you, but he had made you feel extremely calm while prepping you.

“mkay doll, gonna need you to lift that shirt up a tad for me n’ we’ll get started. no rush, you tell me when you’re ready and when you wanna stop. can you do that for me darlin’?” his chair rolls back over to you, his gun ready to go.

you nod your head and reach down to grab the hem of your shirt. you’re stopped, however, when eddie’s calloused hand covers yours.

“words, sweetness. need you to use ‘em.” he taps your skull with his other hand, and pinches the hem of your shirt with the other.

you can’t deny the blush tickling your face is because of him slowly driving you insane, but you’re not going to stop him. “i can do that.”

“for me?” he tilts his head, crows feet creasing around his eyes as he smiles.

“for you.” your lips stay in the oval shape as he moves your shirt himself, yet you can’t take your eyes of his own lips. you have no idea how old he is. late 30s maybe? is this wrong? you shouldn’t feel attracted to someone like 18 years older than you… right?

he catches sight of the band of your bra, all cute and lacy. now it’s his turn to blush slightly. he can’t help the wicked grin spreading across his features, such a pretty girl wearing such a pretty bra.

“now you tell me if it hurts too much, wouldn’t want to cause such a precious girl like you so much pain.” he’s good at this. really good at this. your face was now beet red, and your thighs were unconsciously clenching together. you hoped he wouldn’t notice - he did. and it went straight to his ego.

———

you’re about 15 minutes into the tattoo itself. eddie taking his time and meticulously placing every line with care. you can’t help the small noises you make when it becomes particularly painful, once again hoping he didn’t notice.

he stops with a sigh, the faint bzzing making the silence grow louder, and the tension more suffocating. “sweetheart, if you don’t stop making those pretty noises i’m not gonna make it through this tattoo.”

his darkened pupils look up at you through his curls gracing his forehead. you didn’t know how to react, so you just stared at him with parted lips and slightly widened eyes. you, luckily, were too oblivious to notice the amount of times he had to adjust himself in his pants, and the prominent boner he was sporting right now.

he knew it was “unprofessional”, but he had never had a client like you before. you walk in with a cute little shirt and skirt, lacy underwear and give him doe eyes while moaning to yourself and expect him to not react?

“m sorry… didn’t realise i was doing it.” you look away from him, trying to focus on the artwork on the walls, but only being able to focus on the growing wet patch in your underwear. he has a way with words, and he’s incredibly attractive.

“don’t have to apologise, i like ‘em. but they’re driving me insane over here princess.” he leans down to meet your eyes in front of your head. the tension was so intense you were practically choking on it. he can’t help but reach over and trace your lips with his thumb, pulling your bottom lip down while you let him do it.

“so pretty.” he mumbles, leaning back and patting your thigh before reaching to finish the tattoo. “want you to lie just on your back now, yeah? nearly there doll.” and so you do, until the pleasure pain was so much that you were arching off the bed, your breasts nearly spilling out the top of your shirt.

eddie was glad he was wearing jeans that day, so the wet patch of precum in his boxers wouldn’t soak into their material. you, however, were not glad to be wearing a skirt with such easy access to your underwear, and the larger wet patch soaking them.

“fuck- baby you can’t keep doing that. you’re makin’ it real hard to concentrate over here.” he rubs his hand over his face and reaches for the cup of water on the small table next to him.

“…sorry.” you smile sheepishly. “can we… uh take a break?”

“course princess, you want anythin’?” by anything he means a snack or some water - but you’d hoped the offer was for something else.

you shake your head no before looking back up at the ceiling. that didn’t last long until you could feel someone’s eyes on you - eddie’s.

he was sat, legs spread and arm leaning on it, his veins prominent in the hand pinching his lip. but his eyes were the most captivating, as they were black. full of lust and desire. you saw the affect you had on him, and to be honest you have never felt so attractive or turned on.

you turned your head to look at him, lolling it to the side before contorting your body fulling to the side. your skirt flicked up and caught your hip as you did, revealing your panties and causing eddie to groan.

he clamped his eyes shut before walking over to you, gripping your chin with his pointer finger and thumb and forcing you to look up at him. “i can’t tell if you’re doing this on purpose, or you’re just dumb.” his words shocked you.

“m not doing anything, eds.” you tilt your head to the side slightly, smirking as you did so. you weren’t doing it on purpose yourself, but maybe your body was just reacting naturally to him and doing it to make him look.

“eds? we’re on nickname basis now sweets?” he leaned down, his hot breath fanning across your lips as you squirm under his gaze. you nod dumbly as his hand travels to grip your jaw and rub his thumb across your lips again. you were practically panting, desperately trying to relieve yourself without him realising.

“you gone all shy now? after that whole performance?” he presses his lips to the base of your throat, peppering slow kisses up it’s centre before meeting your lips. “maybe i’ll just let you sort yourself out. who knows who else you’ve been a little slut for.”

a whine escapes your lips as he pulls away from your lips, missing his warmth. the name going straight to your cunt and making you needier.

“jus’ you. i promise. couldn’t help myself.” you mumble, looking down at your hands in your lap.

“don’t act all innocent with me angel, i know what you want, and you know what you were doing. want you to tell me what you want from me.” he crouches down in front of you, hands on your thighs and inching up slowly.

“need you to touch me. want you so bad.” you squeak out, shuffling about on the bed.

“oh yeah? want me to make you cum, sweet girl?” he peels back your skirt, your panties on full display as you lean on your elbows to look at him curse under his breath. he grips your knees and spreads your legs further apart, eyeing the wet patch between your legs.

“god you’re so wet, i can see it from here. got you all worked up hm?” he presses kisses on your inner thighs, watching you squirm until he roughly grabs your hips. his stubble scratching your thigh slightly as he kisses higher.

you hum in agreement, focused on the growing tension about to snap. that was until you felt his fingers pull at the sides of your underwear, pulling them down to show off your glistening folds.

he growls slightly, groaning at the sight before pulling your panties off and basically diving into your pussy. licking strips from your hole to your clit, humming and rolling his eyes back at the taste.

he was eating you out like a starved man, sucking at your clit and poking his tongue into your hole while you were a moaning mess above him. writhing and wriggling your hips, grinding into his face while you were overcome with intense pleasure. he brought his hand up, inserting a finger inside of you before lifting his head up and smiling.

“tastes like heaven, sweetheart. so so sweet f’me fuck.” he reaches that spongey part inside of you, your moans growing whinier as you reach your climax. he roughly covers your mouth with his hand, muffling the sounds you’re making before watching his finger plunge in and out of you.

he starts sucking at your clit again, mewling at the taste of you before adding a second finger to thrust into you. your eyes were rolling back into your head as he coached you to your climax. you failed to notice the poor boy practically grinding the floor, trying to find any way to relieve himself while relishing in your pleasure.

“you gonna cum baby? yeah? go on, cum all over my tongue darlin’”. he poked his tongue back into your hole before making his way back to your clit. he was sloppy, the sounds of him and his tongue filling the room and probably the hall next to it. you didn’t have time to think about it though before white fuzzies took over your vision, and the coil inside you snapped.

eddie slowed his pace down, but lapped at the hot white liquid spurting from your hole. he was basically kitten licking it by the time you’d snapped out of your intense climax. you’d slept with guys before, with women before, but none had ever made you feel like this.

so you grabbed him by his hair into a kiss, teeth clashing and tongues dancing. you hum sweetly at the taste of yourself being transferred from him to you, trailing your hands down his chest and towards his bulge. he looked big, but nothing could’ve prepared you what he was actually hiding.

he sat down, spreading his legs as you knelt down in front of him, holding his cock in your hand and staring at it. he hissed as the cold air hit his sensitive tip, sticky with precum. he chuckled darkly at your expression, grabbing his dick and slapping it against your cheek lightly a few times.

“you okay there, doll? you can take me.” he smirks, smug from your expression. you lean in, licking a stripe from his base to the tip and taking extra time to lick the prominent vein pulsing on the side. he groaned in pleasure, jutting his hips up into the air before you grasp him with both hands and lick his tip a few times.

you watch his face the whole time, scrunched up in pleasure and making him look so much more attractive. swirling your tongue around his tip and licking the precum away, you start to take him down your throat until your nose hits the base.

“fuuu-uck. where’d you learn that you little slut? used to suckin’ big dick are ya?” his groans are sent straight to your core, making you wetter than before.

you pull away with a ‘pop’, and look into his eyes. “you’re so big, eds. biggest i’ve ever seen.” you’re about to go down again until he grabs your face harshly, puckering your lips while he stands and looks down at you.

“don’t believe that. you gonna let me fuck your face now, sweetheart. quit teasin’.” he holds his cock, guiding his tip to your parted lips and thrusting his hips in slowly until you’re gagging. strings of curses tumble out of his mouth at the sensation as he pulls out and fucks your face harshly. his balls slapping on your chin while you moan and clench your pussy as he uses you as a fucktoy.

“such a good girl, letting me ruin your pretty mouth like this. fuck- perfect angel.” he’s holding your chin as tears flood down your cheeks from gagging so much. he’s thrusting so intense that your jaw is starting to ache.

“shit shit shit - gonna cum sweet girl. swallow it all f’me, be a good girl.” and so you did. hot ropes of his salty release coat your tongue and the back of your throat. you stick your tongue out at him, so he can see the dollops of him cum he left there before you swallow it all happily and sit up to kiss him again. watching you, eddie could feel himself getting hard again.

his tongue swipes over yours, both of your recent releases mixing together in your mouths. salty residues left at the corners of your mouths before you pull apart.

“bed. now.” he pants at you, walking you towards it until your back reaches it and you fall back. you spread your legs again, giving him a look at your pussy dripping with arousal again. he watched as a bead of the liquid travels down your thighs, before he laps it up and rubs his tip through your folds.

the sensation of his tip hitting your clit almost had you screaming, but you bit down on his shoulder instead as he sharply sucked air through his teeth.

“eddie- please.” you pant, the words coming out strained from desperation. hearing you beg for it did something to him, blood pumping to his tip more than before.

he plunged into you slowly, the burn of the stretch adding to your pleasure as eddie groaned. he went all the way in and stopped, kissing your collarbone before looking at you.

“feels so fuckin’ good. so tight for me.”

“move. please move- fuck.” he pulls his hips sharply, before slamming them back into pace and setting a rough pace to fuck into you at. he was so big, it felt like he was ruining your pussy and your organs. his tip prodding against your cervix, creating a bulge in your stomach that he pressed on.

“look at that. too big for your pussy to fit. fuck” the rough pace he set had led your moans into an incoherent string of words. you couldn’t process what was happening, just the intense pressure building in your stomach causing you to clench around him.

“y’fucked all dumb up there, angel? fuck- clenchin’ around me like that m’ not gonna last.” his hips stutter before falling back into their pace.

“fuckfuckfuckfuck” high pitched screams sound out of you, not caring who can hear anymore because it feels so good.

“my dumb girl, pussy’s made f’me isn’t she. god you’re perfect.” you can’t help but drool at his words, being fucked so dumb that you can’t remember words.

you clench harder around him, indicating you’re close as your moans mush together. his hips falter again, becoming overwhelmed by the wetness squeezing his cock. he reaches his hand down to your clit, and spits on your pussy before he spreads it around and rubs it in circles around the nub.

the sensation is so overwhelming, your orgasm crashes over you with no warning. you hadn’t even got a chance to warn eddie about needing to pee - which didn’t matter anyway as you squirted all over his dick. the lewd sounds still filling up the room as eddie doesn’t slow down.

“squirting all over me, fuckin’ slut. you’re gonna stay here till i cum, use you as my own little toy.” you were falling into being overstimulated, the climax still having it’s effects on you. but you notice him slowing his pace down.

“shit- gonna cum. can i cum in you, doll? feels so good i don’t wanna pull out. please?” he flops his head to your shoulder.

“please cum in me, eds. want you to cum so deep in me.” before you knew it, his warmth was spitting out of his sensitive dick, painting your inner walls white and mixing with your own release as he pulls out of you slowly.

the white liquid of both of your releases drips out of your hole, before eddie quickly puts your panties back on you to prevent it from dripping out, giving the puffy mound a few playful taps and causing you to hiss from overstimulation.

“want you to keep it all in there for me, like the good girl you are.” he kisses you sweetly before flipping your skirt back down and making sure you’re okay.

———

“that was the best sex i’ve ever had.” the man says next to you, arm around your shoulder as you trace the tattoos on his chest.

“me too. felt so good eds.” you smirk at the new nickname. you sit up and grab a pen from the table next to you. finding a space between the collage covering his body, you write your number down.

“i wanna see you again. call me?” you rest your chin on his chest.

“course i will sweetness.” he kisses your head before standing up and sitting back down in his rolling chair.

“y’wanna finish that tattoo now?”

[teaspoon-full-of-sugar]

tangointhenight

pairing: harry styles x reader (au)

warnings: idiots in love trope, long-distance fwb (sounds weird but it makes sense just give her a read luv), switch!harry and switch!reader, detailed descriptions of female and male masterbation, maladaptive daydreaming during a fanfic, mentions of exhibitionism, edging, one singular ‘daddy’, cum swapping, breeding kink, praise kink and degradation, rope play, spitting, choking, mutual masterbation, overstimulation, use of toys (vibrator mostly), crying after sex (iconic)

word count: 13.3k

synopsis: harry records erotic audios, and y/n is an avid listener

author’s note: hello nasties, here’s another filth fic for ya! this has been a long time in the making, and i am so sorry i have been mia for so long, but i am back for the time being to give you this fic. i have wanted to do something like this for a while now, but it’s been a struggle (lots of blood, sweat, and tears put into this). i’m kinda proud of her to be honest, and i hope you enjoy :)

tags: @victoria-styles

masterlist

—

Y/N finally sinks into her mattress after yet another tiring day. She can hear her roommate on the other side of the wall, chatting with her girlfriend over the phone, blissfully ignorant to the fact that she currently has a hand teasing the band of her sweatpants while the other scrolls aimlessly through her phone.

Exhaustion burns behind her eyes, but there’s a desperate ache in her belly, one that demands satiety. She opens the internet app to find it unchanged from the night before, still lighting up in the profile named tangointhenight. His profile picture is a tantalizing photo of his hand, splayed across his thigh, which are clad in tight, floral printed pants, doing wonders for the very prominent bulge. Pieces of paint linger on his thumbnail, a pretty pale mint color, and his skin, tanned with faint freckles and etches of dark ink, looks tempting in the golden light. At his wrist is a braided twine bracelet with cheap beads that have letters that she can’t make out, which looks old and wilted.

She scrolls down, only lingering for a moment to appreciate the photo one final time.

There are some cute little posts and polls in addition to his erotic audios. The newest one, posted just that afternoon, warns not to listen to this in public with a series of cute little emoticons following. If there’s one thing she’s learned about Tango, that’s what she and other listeners call him, is that he’s a bit of an exhibitionist; his audios tend to lean toward nearly getting caught or even being caught (oftentimes leading to a “helping out” situation). She honestly wasn’t into that sort of thing until he started talking about it, and now, she finds it incredibly sexy, the thrill of the quick high and the fear of being caught in such a vulnerable moment.

She’ll definitely have to give the new audio a listen on one of her morning commute trips to the university; perhaps, she could give it a listen while she waits for her class to start, his deep voice teasing and coaxing her into an aching mess. She hopes that it’ll leave her trembling and throbbing for the rest of the day. She wonders if she’ll be able to make it until night before she has to finish herself off or if she’ll have to sneak off to the restrooms during one of her seven minute breaks, foot propped up on the toilet paper dispenser while she rubs herself to her bitter end.

She scrolls down a bit, passing over audios that vary from pillow talk to a dirty fuck in back alleys, before tapping on the familiar link, purple from use, the description teasingly saying: we’ve been visiting my mum for a week, and I haven’t been able to taste you... I guess we’ll just have to be quiet.

It’s one of the first audios she listened to when she was just discovering this new world of pleasure, so it has a special place in her heart. It’s one of his firsts from nearly a year ago, of fuzzy listening quality and nervous voice, but she finds his ramblings endearing; although, admittedly, she thinks anything he does is cute.

She tucks in her earbuds and presses the play button. Tossing the phone to the side, her eyes flutter closed, visions of white dotting through the darkness as they adjust. There’s a subtle cracking sound that indicates that it has finally loaded, and a fuzzy droning sound filters through the headphones. There’s a fan going in the background; it squeaks and grumbles nearby. A door creaks open, one of those fake sound effects that you can buy, but she appreciates the effort.

“Hey, lovie, feelin’ better?”

His familiar voice floats through her ears. She settles even more into her sheets. His voice is a nice, hot cup of tea at the end of a hard day, a drug that leaves her head foggy and senses dulled. His voice reminds her of sleep: deep, soothing, persistent, yet ever fleeting. She yearns for it, like being able to listen to that one mazing song for the first time again or the feeling of sunshine after the long winter months. His voice is intoxicating, reaching a baritone timbre that she can’t quite put to words.

At first, she wanted to put a face to the man who hummed sweet nothings in her ears, who coaxed her to oblivion for nights on end. Now, she’s at ease with never knowing. It keeps things interesting, and she doesn’t think about it as much anymore.

“If only mum wasn’t home, maybe we could’ve snuck a quick one in the shower,” he says. She smirks, picturing him tucked into his childhood bed, a cozy twin that would be a struggle for the both of them to fit in, and he has his old quilt tucked up to his neck, leaving his bare feet exposed because of how little it is.

There’s a moment of silence, then a cute little laugh.

“I know. You wouldn’t want to sin in her godly home, but she loves you, probably more than me. I don't think she would think any differently of you.”

Another beat of silence, then his voice catches in his throat. Y/N smiles softly as he stutters pitifully, slowly, struggling to find his words.

“N-no, y’know tha's not how I meant it,” he says. “Like, she loves you more than she loves me. Not that I don’t love you as much as she does.” He moves, the rustling of his sheets crackling in her ears. She can hear his hand run over his stubble, nails scratching over short little hairs. She wonders if he usually grows out his facial hair or if he’s the type to keep clean shaven.

“She couldn’t possibly love you more than I do.” The bed creaks as he shifts again. “C’mon, babe, join me. ‘S all nice and warm.”

She herself burrows further into her blankets, knowing full well that she’s probably going to be kicking them off in a few minutes. She turns to her side, blinking her eyes open, trying to immerse herself into the fantasy.

“‘M glad you got time off of work to come here with me. I know you could've been spending time back home, but you came here with me instead.” His voice is closer than before, however whispered. Every accentuated vowel that passes through his lips is like a breath of fresh air, and she hums quietly at the sound.

“I really appreciate it. ‘M glad we got to spend this time together.”

She imagines that he tucks her into his neck, coddling her while his fingers trace over the curves of her face, from the furrow of her brow, down to the apple of her cheeks, before stopping at her lips, lingering only momentarily before his thumb would push just past them.

He chuckles suddenly.

“What does it look like I’m doing? Jus’ lovin’ on my girl.”

His short pecks turn into slow, passionate kisses, deep sighs of relief falling from his lips, and she swears she can almost feel his breath on her skin, nose pressed tight to the pulsepoint in her neck as he sponges his lips over her collarbone, teeth nibbling lightly. She tugs the tee up from where it’s settled at her hips to where the curves of her breasts begin, the material squeezing them tightly to her chest. The sensitive skin aches under the tight pressure. She teases her nipples through her thin bra, feeling the tenderness coax chills down her spine.

“Please,” he whines. “Wanna taste you. You can be quiet. I believe in you, love.”

She could picture him now, chin resting on her stomach, eyes pleading with her. She would flick his head at the patronizing tone before brushing her fingers through his hair. Would he have short tuffs or long tresses that she could run her fingers through after a long day, breaking apart the knots that accumulate throughout the day? Does he have pin straight, dark locks that are cut close to his scalp or sand coloured curls that fall gracefully on his forehead? Perhaps, he has a bit of gray peaking through his hairline to match his wise and weathered voice. She could almost moan at the thought. She has always had a thing for older men.

Tango says something, but she can’t really hear it, his words muffled by her racing heart. She pries her pants down shaky legs, leaving them dangling around her ankle, and her fingers work quickly in massaging her puffy clit, arousal wetting the tender skin. Not one for having much patience, she doesn’t wait for him to finish worshiping her body with his mouth before she is rubbing herself through her panties, feeling the cold wetness on her fingertips. Eyes closed, her head falls back on her pillows, legs tensing when she stops suddenly.

“Pretty thighs,” he mumbles to himself between kisses, and she could almost feel his tender touches on the backs of her thighs, which tremble with anticipation. A wetly placed kiss followed by an appreciative hum signals his final descent to her cunt. The sound of languid licks are nearly enough to make her finish, walls clenching miserably around nothing. Fingers slowing close to a dead stop, barely more than a faint fluttering on her sensitive skin, she attempts to collect herself, but it’s difficult when he moans once again, muffled by his furiously working lips.

“Love your pussy, baby.” She melts at his words, eyes rolling back as waves of pleasure rack through her body, hips stuttering in time with each flick of her wrist. “So warm and wet and jus’ perfect for me.” His voice, low with need, makes her throb, arousal slipping into her panties.

She’s close already, an unfortunate effect he has on her. Barely five minutes into her alone time, and she can feel the orgasm begin to build, like an unyielding inferno spreading through every nerve. The stress from her day, the exhaustion with the world, everything melts into just one prominent feeling threatening to burst from her pores. She has to force herself to stop before she falls over the edge in order to draw out this experience as much as possible. She nearly cries out when she pulls her hand away altogether, her poor, puffy clit throbbing painfully.

This continues for a while, the undulating waves of a blistering release and the torture of a cut off orgasm, until the air becomes thick, her heaving breaths heating her empty room.

“There’s my good girl,” he says. “Use me, lovie. Want you to choke me with your pretty thighs.”

His voice is more firm this time, and she could only picture his baleful eyes staring up at her, eager to please her and guide her over the edge. It makes her wonder what they look like; she wonders if they’re a soulful, deep chocolate that darken with lust, a pale blue that reminds her of warm afternoons, or a striking hazel that flickers with green hues in the light.

No matter the color, she is sure that they’re undoubtedly pretty.

“Please,” she whispers faintly.

“More? You want more, my greedy girl?” She nods pitifully, feeling the orgasm build quickly in her belly before she stops once again, fingers pressing into her throbbing clit. “You want my fingers?”

Her walls flutter fruitlessly for some sort of release, for some sort of stimulation. He moans out sharply.

“Feel so good, babylove,” he coos. “So warm and wet f’me.”

She wants to slip her fingers inside, to tease and massage that tender spot that she can barely reach until she struggles to breathe. She wants to feel full, but she doesn’t want to take care of the mess, and it surely won’t be comfortable sleeping in wet sheets. The wipes hidden alongside her other secret toys, beneath mounds of socks and crumpled underwear, do little to take care of the arousal that has pooled between her legs.

She fishes around her bedside table, fingers raking through bundles of panties to find her vibrator, a cheap little thing she got in a set when she first moved into her apartment. Unfortunately, she ran through the other ones that were in the set, and this is the only one left.

She nestles the vibrator on her swollen clit and ticks it on to the lowest setting. This stimulation is different than before; a vague rumbling rattles her bones, making her lips tremble, with choked cries teetering on her tongue. Obscene wet sounds fill her ears, and for a moment, she wonders whether they are coming from the audio or from her dripping pussy, and her thighs tighten around her wrist. She could only imagine the sight of his hands splayed over her hips and on her belly, perfectly pastel painted nails pressing into her wet skin. The shifting of her mattress worries her for only a moment, but her shame melts away, and she loses herself in the sound of his heavy, stifled groans, as if he is truly choking on her. The addition of the vibrator only serves to tease her more as she inches toward the end, brutally building in slow, abrupt waves. She struggles to swallow her whimpers.

He spits suddenly, and her hips jut forward at the sound, an erotic display of dominance, but he makes it seem like such a tender act; she could just melt.

“Can you take another?”

A beat of silence and a sharp intake of breath, squelching sounds growing louder.

“No? That’s alright, lovie, just two, then,” he coos. Her toes curl up a little at his words, hips rising from the mattress. On any other night, she would have craved more; she would have wanted him to coax her open with him telling her that she can take just one more and that she’s his good girl. It’s sad to be turned on by a man simply respecting her limits, but her clit throbs pitifully and some arousal slips out into her underwear.

“Gonna come for me, babe?” His words are slurred and wet. “Make me proud.”

Chills rushing down her spine, her body curls into itself, eager for her release. She wants to come so badly; she wants to feel the pleasure for days afterward, to tremble around her hand until she can’t take it anymore, to come until she’s seeing stars. She wants to make him proud, but she knows that she can’t come yet, or else she won’t be able to hear him finish. She doesn’t have another orgasm in her tonight, and she wants to prolong this experience as much as possible, even if that means holding out on her orgasm. The world spins behind her tightly screwed eyes as she slows her ministrations, the vibrator ticking back down to nothing. Her body reacts before she can even consider the loss, her hips bucking against the toy, attempting desperately to find that little bit of stimulation she needs to finally reach euphoria.

His lips smack loudly as he presses simulated kisses to skin, pulling her back from her foggy mind.

“So good f’me, pretty,” he says, words muted by skin. “So good. Hmm, I knew you could be quiet.” His kisses are slow and tired, unlike before when they were rushed and eager. His mattress grumbles as he moves once again, taking his time to, presumably, trail up the length of her trembling body until they’re suffocating in each other's embrace.

He sighs behind closed lips, heavy and wanton, and she can picture him working his hips into the mattress to find some sort of release. She would pull him up until he was right between her aching legs and press her lips to his neck, feeling his pulse jump at the contact. She would cup his cock through his thin pair of pajamas, teasingly massaging him until he just couldn't take it anymore, caution flying out of his mind as he is overcome by thoughts of her name, her skin, simply <i>her. Trying to form a coherent thought, he would barely be able to hold himself up. She moans quietly at the thought.

“Babylove, we can’t—” He moans, his deep voice splintering. “I don’ know if I’ll be able to control myself.”

She has listened to this audio enough to know what to say to fill the silent gaps to fulfill the ultimate fantasy.

“Please,” she whispers into the dead air, barely audible over her roommate's voice in the next room. “Wanna feel you.” She wishes he was there for her to whisper in his ear, her fingers running up the plain of his back, feeling the heated skin tense at her words. He would quirk an eyebrow.

“Yeah? Y’wanna feel my big cock in y’tummy, pretty baby?”

“Yes,” she whimpers quietly, suddenly very aware of how much she truly wanted to be filled, to have him so impossibly close to her.

“Y’know I can’t say no to you.” She can hear the smile in his voice. She wonders what it looks like, if he beams with an eye-searing grin, his face splitting with happiness, or if he has a shy little smirk, just barely toying on his lips. She likes to think that he has a beautiful smile, filled with warmth and love. She melts a little, a rush of adrenaline coursing through her limbs to the tips of her fingers.

“Get on top.”

She does, eyes still closed as she sits and kneels on her mattress, one hand still between her legs, trying desperately to catch her poor, swollen clit at just the right angle that will leave her thighs quaking, her stomach clenching. Her underwear, which are still stuck around her knees, stretch and snap as her thighs slip and spread further on the sheets.

He moans sharply, and she can feel her hips unconsciously move, as if to pull that sound from him once again. The low vibrations from her little handheld leave her aching for more, nothing more than a faint rumble, but if she flicked it up to the next highest setting, it would surely be heard through the thin walls. Besides, she loves the teasing nearly as much as she hates it, just pushing to the brink before the rush subsides and settles into a quiet lull. Speechless, she gasps for air as yet another jilted orgasm subsides.

She works her hips slowly, careful of the squeaking of her mattress; there are only so many noises that can be passed off as her simply shifting around in her sleep. Her wrist aches at such an awkward angle, but she continues, the burning euphoria just beyond the horizon. He moans, and she nearly follows him, a crest of a cry nearly bursting from her chest but it comes out as a small whimper. She pushes her earbud deeper into her ear, as if to pull him closer.

“Sorry, jus’ feel so good,” he says sheepishly, and she can tell that he’s biting his lip by the faint lisp in his words. It would be torture for the both of them, to be so close but unable to move any faster or harder to finally reach the deepest, most pleasurable part, just barely scratching the itch for intimacy. He whimpers pitifully, and she thinks she might fall apart at the sound, but her stupid vibrator leaves her teetering back and forth between over the edge. She wiggles her hips to try to get a better angle, but with just a hint of stimulation, it’s a torturously slow build up.

“There it is, pretty,” he says, breaths faltering. “That’s the spot. Make yourself feel good, lovie. Use me.” Her legs ache at the awkward angle, trembling with overexertion. She wishes that she could let go of it, leaving it on the mattress with her pussy and thighs holding it in place, so she can grind on it, unhindered by her own body’s exhaustion, eagerly chasing her high. It would also free her hands to tease her breasts again, pulling and pinching at her hardened nipples.

“Love the way you feel, babylove,” he whispers. “Fuck, so wet f’me.” He curses again and again, as if no other words can properly describe the feeling of her, so soft, so warm, so fucking good. She could only picture him in abridged visions, his undoubtedly pretty lips parted with his pretty whimpers sneaking through, his features pinched in pleasure. Her eyes roll back as her orgasm quickly approaches.

“‘M gonna come,” he says suddenly. “Are you close, too?” She whimpers, arousal slips down her swollen lips and into her furiously working fingers, eager to finish alongside him. “Yeah? Y’gonna come with me? Y’gonna come on my cock, pretty?”

She is so close, so unbelievably close, and she struggles to relax her muscles to hold off for just a little longer.

“So fuckin’ good, such a good fuckin’ girl,” he says sharply. His mattress squeaks now, unable to hold back the sharp jolts of his hips, and he lets go of all inhibitions, moaning freely. She could imagine his hand tracing up her belly, cupping her swinging breasts, and he would suckle on her nipples until her fervent hips faltered. He would brush his hands up the curve of her back, digging into the muscles of her shoulders until she fell forward. Faces nestled together, interlocking like pieces of a puzzle, they would breathe each other in, savoring such a close moment of intimacy. It would feel like a lifetime as they waited with bated breath, using each other to get the most pleasure possible.

She comes when he does, holding her breath to keep the moans from slipping, which makes it all the more euphoric, the chance of nearly getting caught at her most vulnerable and the faint lightheadedness making her vision foggy. Her orgasm leaves her legs trembling, slipping away from her still buzzing toy, falling forward into her sheets. She breathes in sharply, barely holding back a pained cry; fat tears of pleasure soak into her blanket as euphoria crashes and beats into her muscles. The heart-racing, earth-shattering, limb-thrashing orgasm makes her chest heave. Just like she wanted, she is left spent on her mattress, the powerful rush still lingering in her trembling body.

She flips onto her back, quickly pulling her bottoms back up onto her hips. In her drunken stupor, her earbuds fell out, and she can vaguely hear Tango’s praises. She picks her phone back up, eyes straining under the bright light, and closes out of the audio.

Her head is light, foggy with the residual high. A dazed smile flickers over her lips, exhaustion settling deep in her bones, finally satiated by her orgasm.

She scrolls through his account once again, this time reading through some of his other posts, like links to playlists and cute stories. Suddenly, the little message icon in the corner looks so appealing, teasing and taunting. Perhaps, she’s feeling a little giddy from her high or maybe it’s from the exhaustion, but she can’t seem to find a reason to not do it.

She sends him a message.

Meanwhile, Harry stares at the blinking cursor petulantly. It taunts him amidst a sea of white, a blank canvas in what should have been a completed midterm paper that’s due in a couple of days. His eyes sink closed, and he starts to drift off, only waking when his hand slips from his cheek, knocking his glasses askew. An old sitcom plays in the background, the canned laughter providing a break in the silence every five seconds. He sighs for the billionth time that evening, struggling to find motivation to even think at this point.

His phone dings, and he happily divulges the distraction, his brows furrowing as he reads a direct message from a user called honeyhi. He’s used to getting comments on his post, with the occasional direct message (which he usually deletes instantly because of poor past experiences), and now, he usually doesn’t think much of them. He isn’t doing it to gain anything from anyone. He just wants to put his thoughts out there, and it’s just an added bonus to get validation from beautiful people.

She doesn’t have a profile picture, not uncommon on that corner of the web, especially since his posts aren’t a lot of people’s taste. He wouldn’t usually indulge in them, deleting them usually instantly, but something compels him to open her message.

Not to be too forward, but I had the best orgasm of my life, listening to your audios. I’ve listened to your audios for a long time, and honestly, listening to you has become the highlight of my evenings ;)

Honey, you have no idea what that means to me.

Truly, his heart swells at her sweet words. It’s nice to get complimented on something you put so much effort into. He bares himself for strangers, expressing such an intimate part of himself for their shared pleasure, and it feels reassuring to get compliments.

I mean it. Also, Tango in the Night is arguably one of Fleetwood Mac’s best albums. Definitely top three.

Most people assume it’s a sex thing.

I wonder why.

He laughs a little at the dry comment.

So, what are the other two in your top three albums?

Pre or post Stevie Nicks?

Post, of course. What kind of question is that?

That was a test. You passed. I think we’ll get along just fine, Tango.

I think so, too, Honey.

—

Y/N rushes past the postman, nearly toppling over when her bag shifts slightly on her arm, her thick binders peek out of the top and dig into her arm. Her hand furiously slaps the elevator button, and she stands impatiently, her dangling keys shaking at her hip. The doors tremble as the weight teeters down to the main floor, far too slowly in her opinion. For a moment, she considers just running up the three flights of stairs to her floor, but that feels a little too eager.

She and Tango have their weekly phone call tonight, and her classes ran long today; that coupled with the stand-still traffic made her more anxious than usual to get home. She always calls first, since her schedule is the most complicated, and she’ll feel absolutely awful if she was late for their call. She feels silly getting worked up over such a small thing, but their friendship progressed beyond the occasional messages in the past month, and she honestly looks forward to their weekly talks. Tango is such a beautiful and humble person, and he is such a stable place of comfort. She knows that he will be understanding and have an independent, secondary perspective on any situation.

He is someone she can rely on for just about anything.

The bell dings above her, and the elevator doors finally part. After barreling inside, she sinks against the railing, glancing at the time, which is still just before her usual calling time. She sighs sharply when the doors begin to close, relief tugging on her shoulders.

However, a hand pushes through the lift’s doors before they can shut, and she bites back an irritated groan; she probably could have made it to her apartment by now if she had ran up the stairs. The man slides in and gives her a grateful nod, accompanied by a small smile. Much to her delight, he presses the ‘close door’ button quickly, and they’re met with no interruptions this time. It’s a quiet ride, despite her nervous feet tapping, and he taps away on his phone,

She admires him out of the corner of her eye, forgetting momentarily about her anxiety. Half of his hair is pulled back in a small bun, exposing the darker locks underneath, and a bandana pushes back the frizzy flyaways that would normally frame his face. The thick strands curl slightly at the ends; there’s one tight coil that she wants to tug on. She could easily become enamored with him, with his pretty green eyes and day-old stubble. His bag has H.E.S embroidered on the bottom corner. A coral colored, gem necklace rests beautifully on his tanned chest, which is mostly covered by a near see-through white top, covered with a baggy, gingham jumper.

After living in the building for two years, they have run into one another on several occasions but have never really spoken. He lives on the second floor, and he goes to the university as well.

When he leaves, after offering another nod and quick smile, she calls Tango. He answers after the second ring.

“Hey, sweets,” he grumbles, not as chipper as his usual self. Her heart sinks a little. He had his midterms last week, and she can only assume that the results are not what he had hoped.

“Oh, no,” she says. “What happened?”

“‘S nothin’,” he insists, but she can hear the irritation in his voice. “‘M jus’ getting myself worked up over nothin’. How was your day?”

Clearly not wanting to talk, he changes the subject, which is something Y/N has grown used to over the past few months. He doesn’t like to vent when he’s too upset because he’s afraid of lashing out and taking his aggression out on her. Thankfully, she has also learned how to distract him. Usually, his annoyance melts away within minutes, and he is his usual, bubbly self again.

“Well, let me tell you, I nearly killed the postman today, and someone nearly hit my car today.”

“What?” He asks incredulously. “Please, elaborate.”

And so, she does.

A couple hours later, Y/N’s in her kitchen, making avocado and tomato toast for the fifth time this week. Her roommate is gone for the weekend, thankfully, which means she can get more stuff done without interruptions (and she can talk to Tango for as long as she wants without getting interrogated about it). His mood had improved significantly after she was able to make him laugh at her own expense (he especially liked the story about how she grabbed her iced coffee too quickly this morning and spilled it all over the barista’s hand).

“I have a question,” he says quickly, as if he wouldn’t have the courage to ask if he held onto it for a moment longer.

“Okay,” she says slowly, almost fearful at the sudden change of tone in his voice.

“Would you be able to listen to something I recorded the other day?” He giggles nervously. “I dunno. I just feel a little,” he makes a little noise, “off about it.”

Stunned, she stares at her phone, the seconds ticking by before her very eyes, and despite the fact that the only reason why they know each other is because she listened to his audios, she’s a little taken aback by the question. Before she knows it, too much time has passed for her to brush off as anything but bewilderment. She stutters.

“I—uh—sure?”

“You don’t sound too sure.”

“No, I am.” Stubborn and not willing to back down, she digs herself a deeper hole, despite the odd feeling growing in her stomach. “Yes, I will listen to it for you.”

“Okay, then,” he says breathlessly. “I’ll send it to you.”

Neither know what to say now. Conversation usually came easy to them, so it feels so strange to be stuck in such an uncomfortable silence. Now, she’s gone and ruined everything because of her hesitation. Why did she even hesitate? There’s no reason to be embarrassed. They’re both very open, sexual people, and it’s nothing to get so worked up over. Maybe, it’s the fact that it’s him, and she knows him so well now. Compared to before, when he was just some stranger on the internet, she knows his likes, dislikes; hell, she has even spoken to his cat, and it feels wrong because he is her friend, and that’s not what friends are supposed to do.

“It’s not weird. Is it?” He asks shyly.

“Of course not.” She says it a little too quickly. Admittedly, it feels a <i>little weird, now that she thinks about it. It would be like walking in on your friend having sex. Then again, the only reason why they really know each other is because she listened to his audios (which is basically him jerking off to his dirty thoughts). However, it’s not an aspect they spoke about too often, usually after a couple of drinks. Their friendship, despite how it began, is purely innocent. They were each other’s comfort person; they were there to vent, laugh, and talk with. Neither ever hinted toward anything different, other than the occasional, playful flirting.

“No, I’ll listen to it for you. What are friends for?”

She doesn’t know why her heart is beating so fast.

“Thank you,” he says.

“So,” she says, “do you want me to listen to it now?”

“Eager, are we?” He hums teasingly.

“Shut up,” she scoffs.

“I mean, if you wanted to hear some dirty talk, all you had to do was ask.”

“Please, stop talking.”

“Y’know I’m always down to clown.”

“I’m hanging up now.”

True to her words, she doesn’t wait for him to answer before she ends the call.

Her phone dings a second later with the link along with another cheeky message. The link is to a private web upload platform, and she feels special for a moment. She wonders if she should just listen to it while eating her toast and go about her usual routine, or if she should do what she usually does when listening to his audios. Is that what he would want, though? Would it make him feel uncomfortable? Is it more weird to just listen to him moan in her ear while doing mundane tasks around the house?

Granted, they have had some conversations about sex and the like, but this feels so much more intimate, especially because he knows that she’s going to listen to him jerk off, not to even mention the obscene things that come from his mouth.

What does it mean for their friendship? Perhaps, it’s not even meant to mean anything, just a sincere favor asked between two friends. Maybe, it’s meant to be a step toward something more on his part. Is that even what she wants?

She brushes off that thought quickly, as she has for months, because deep down, she knows it would just end up in disappointment.

Oh, what a mess.

She’s headed on a downward spiral that has no chance of stopping unless it’s hit by a freight train to hell.

She opts to forgetting her toast and slips into her bedroom, falling onto her blankets giddily. She presses play on the audio, her heart racing as it loads, and leaves her phone face down next to her ear, eyes closing to fully immerse herself, trying to ignore her anxiety.

“Hello,” he says slowly, almost shyly, and it feels like one of their late nights again, with him talking through her phone and her cuddled in bed, listening eagerly. “I’ve just gotten home, but I’ve been thinkin’ about this all day. Couldn’t go to sleep before gettin’ it out there, y’know.” He giggles, a pretty little noise she’s heard many times now. He laughs a lot, sometimes at himself, but mostly in response to her. He even laughs at her corny, little puns, which she appreciated.

“And ‘m really hard right now, so that doesn’t help either. I haven’t really been able to come in the past two weeks. Been too busy with… life, I guess. But a friend of mine talked to me about the world of BDSM. She’s a kinky little shit.”

Y/N’s heart lurches, stomach twisting with an unrecognizable feeling, knowing that the certain friend he is talking about is her. She remembers the conversation well, even though she was a little tipsy and very high, mostly because it was also the first time they had actually spoken on the phone, and it began as it normally does, about mundane things that happened that week. Somehow, the conversation shifted to kinks, and she told him that she wouldn’t be opposed to more sinful acts in the bedroom, most of which her previous partners had not indulged.

“I’m pretty vanilla, I guess. I just love to love people. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. I’ve never really been into that sort of thing, but now, I can’t stop thinking about it, and I’ve been kinda into some dark, dom stuff lately,” he admits slowly. “Dark for me, at least, which, again, doesn’t say much.” There’s another laugh, radiant and delicate.

“I dunno why, but I’ve been fantasizing about taking you into our room. A little lackluster, I know, but I’m not into the dark, dingy places, like those sex dungeons they have in the movies, where there’s lots of leather, red lights, music, quite the ambience.” He stops suddenly, and she could imagine his lips pursing to cease his ramblings. She wishes he wouldn’t do that so much; she wishes that he wouldn’t doubt himself and his beautiful way with words. If only he could be as confident in himself as she is in him.

“I just want to lay you down on our bed with our fluffy blankets pushed off to the side. Then, if either of us need to take a moment or stop, we can.” Her heart swells a little at his words. Even though he’s trying to talk about, in his words, “dark, dom stuff”, he is still so sweet and considerate, and she can’t help but soften. He trails off.

Faintly, she can hear him yank his belt from the loops, and it’s, honestly, one of the hottest things she has ever heard; the teasing glimpse of what could come far more erotic than anything any of her other partners could do. She could only imagine what it would feel like to have him in front of her, shirtless with his pants low on his hips; maybe he would be wearing the same floral pants he is in his profile picture, the ones that are unbelievably tight. She would be splayed on the bed, just observing this beauty of a man, waiting patiently for him to come and ravish her.

She’s sure that his tattoos cover more than just his arms, but how many more is a question that haunts her. The thought of a big tattoo on his thigh that she can grind on while he moans about how much of a good girl she is has led to many obscene dreams. She imagines black images carved into his chest, perhaps a trail of floating rose petals from his collar bone to his peck or a hellish looking snake wrapped around his waist. More vividly, she envisions a bold tattoo just beneath his belly button, one that she would scratch at while he violently pounded into her, one that she would kiss and lick before she would take him in her mouth.

Oh, what she would do to be able to feel his skin on hers.

She dips her hand beneath the band of her shorts out of habit, toying with the silky material of her panties. She tries not to think too much about her feelings, fearing it would deepen the ache in her heart.

“Anyway, you’d be on the bed,” he says, his usual slow, stifling voice pulling her deeper into the fantasy, “naked, on your knees with your pretty pussy facing me. You’re all tied up, starting at your wrists and ankles, and there would be a pretty knot down your spine that I can grab while I fuck you from behind.”

Her cunt throbs at the sudden turn. She could only imagine: her face pressed into the pillows, choking on the sheets, her muscles tight, aching beneath the restraints, and her voice raw, sobbing from overstimulation. Exhausted and wanton, she would take anything that he would be willing to give her. He would shove her face into the mattress, mounting her, and he would tug on the rope until it felt like it would permanently embedded in her wet skin, telling her how much of a good little slut she is, taking him so well.

She doesn't know why she’s drawn to rope play; perhaps, it’s all a part of the subtle nuances of the sex, the intimacy of tying the complex binds around your partner and the intricacies of sensory manipulation with such overwhelming stimulation. It’s so much more than just being bound while fucking. There is such a deep reliance on the other person to understand your body, your limits, your needs. It’s about trust and vulnerability. She thinks of it in such a melodic and romantic way; it must have resonated with Tango.

“Or I’d tie your arms to your legs, keeping you spread open for me on your back, with knots around your belly, the lead falling between your tits.” Her eyes flutter closed. While rope play is something that she has always wanted to try but never felt comfortable enough with another person to act on it. He would be different though. She cups her pussy, languidly running her fingers through her wet folds, feeling the arousal slip down her skin before settling on her sheets.

She pinches her clit, and her legs immediately jerk around her arm. Feeling far too sensitive for that type of stimulation, she simply strokes through her lips, focusing her ministrations on the delicate inside, close to her sopping entrance, enjoying the slow build.

“Then, I could hold onto your neck while I fuck you, and I like being able to see your face, to see how good I’m making you feel, to see tears of pleasure run down your pretty face. You could suck on my fingers while I fuck you, deep and hard. D’ya wanna choke on my fingers, pretty?”

She wants absolutely nothing more. She would gladly suck on his fingers if it meant that she could see the look of awe in his eyes, lust darkening his features when she bites teasingly on his nail.

“But if you’re on your knees, I could watch you in the mirror and still see your face. From behind, I can see your pretty, tight pussy take my cock.” He whimpers. “I haven’t decided which I would rather have.”

She can’t decide, either.

Then again, they could always have both.

“Of course, I wouldn’t give you my cock that easily. No, you’re going to be crying for me, begging for me to fuck you, and I dunno if I would fuck you right away or make you beg for it. I think for the first bit, after you’re all tied up for me, I’ll tease you, just barely touching you, pulling on the lead, the ropes tightening around your aching body. I think your tits would look so pretty all tied up f’me, babylove.

“When you’ve finally had enough, crying for me to stuff you full of my cock, I’d let you come, but I’d only use my fingers, never giving you what you really want. Maybe I’ll put a little vibrator on your clit and leave you there, having you come again and again until it hurts. I’d have you keep your panties on, of course. Don’t want you making a mess of the sheets, and then, when I finally give you my cock, I’ll put them in your mouth to keep you quiet, and so you can taste yourself.”

His moans are in the forefront in his sensual song, mixed amongst a symphony of bed and friction sounds. She matches his pace, flicking her wrist in time with the sound of him working his wet cock. She massages the entirety of her pussy, messily rubbing her fingers from the tip of her poor, swollen clit to her throbbing opening.

“Fuck, babylove, you’d be so good f’me, taking my cock so deep in your pussy. Would you cry f’me, pretty? Cry for daddy to fuck you into the mattress.” A rumbling groan finally breaks free, and she is so close to falling apart, her high festering into her muscles, burning through her nerves; her skin feels hot to the touch. She struggles to breathe, but she doesn't yearn for air as much as she does her end. Tears in her eyes, she clutches onto her blanket, tugging it in her mouth to keep from crying too loudly. She sobs, feeling a familiar tightness in her body, just beyond her grasp. Her hand still moves over her pussy, arousal seeping through trembling fingers, but she can’t reach her peak with such light, varied stimulation, her hips buckling.

“My pretty rope bunny,” he mutters. He’s desperate, truly just rambling on and on about anything that comes to mind. “My pretty honey,” he whimpers, almost inaudibly, “honey, honey.”

For a second, she thinks of the times that word has passed through his lips in less sinful situations, a slow, lulling honey when he’s trying to get her attention, sweet and innocent. That’s his special name for her, and she wonders if, possibly, he thinks about her in the same way she does, if he wishes to be with her in such an intimate way, just as she does. She thinks, incredulously, that maybe she isn’t overanalyzing the situation.

His bed squeaks faintly in the background, just barely heard over his withering voice. She can only begin to imagine what he looks like in that moment, legs tense, feet digging into the mattress, his hips thrusting to fuck himself into his fist. The head of his cock would peek through the top of his fist as he coerced his release free. She wishes she could see what he looks like when he comes, when he finally reaches his most euphoric moment. It’s such a primal thing to witness, to see someone liberated of all inhibitions, to observe them completely succumbing to their instincts. It’s such a beautiful thing to see someone acquiesce control and thrive so harmoniously with their body.

“I wanna wrap my belt around your throat.” He swallows thickly. She whines along with him. Perhaps, she’s just fooling herself, but she can swear that she could almost hear the sound of a leather belt squeezing in his fist. A pitiful pool of wetness slips between her ass cheeks.

“My cock hurts just thinking about how you’d sound.” He moans, mimicking the desperate heaves that would undoubtedly slip through her lips as he pulls his belt tightly around her throat. “Then, when you’re bratty, I can just wrap my hand around the belt and make it tighter.

“Please,” he mocks weakly, “please, sir, I’ll be good. But you’re just saying that to get what you want. You’re just a naughty, little slut aren’t you?”

“Yes,” she returns weakly.

“Maybe, I could get you a collar and pull you around with that. Would you like that?” He hums. “Of course, you would. You’re my pretty, little bunny.”

In any other instance, she would feel humiliated to be so aroused at being so weak and submissive to another, but he could convince her to do anything at this point. She’s close, toes curling and muscles tightening, and she waits for his familiar profession that he is also near the edge, but the silence that follows is deafening, a disappointing resolution to an intense narrative. It makes her stop completely, wet hand flipping her phone over to see that, indeed, she had listened to all of the audio. It knocks the air from her lungs when she realizes that that was it. She isn’t going to hear his cute little whimpers as he comes nor his sweet aftercare.

Frustrated from her ruined orgasm, she calls him instantly, and he picks up after the fourth ring this time, as if he <i>knows</i> that she is this needy and frustrated. She doesn’t give him the chance to greet her.

“That couldn’t have been all of it.”

“Well, hello to you, too—”

“I didn’t get to hear you come.”

“Is that what you wanna hear, honey?”

“Well, yeah, I always come with—” She stops before she says something she’ll regret, but by the sound of his laughter, it’s already too late. She wants to hide away in embarrassment.

“It’s only partially finished. I thought I told you that.” She can hear the teasing smirk he surely has plastered on his face, the cheeky bastard. “I just wanted to hear what you thought so far before I finished it. There’s no point in finishing something that I already feel isn’t worth the time.”

“Well, then,” she stutters quickly, “How does it end?”

“How do you think it should end?”

There’s a certainty in his words, as if he has already accepted her as a lover, and she knows that he is giving her the opportunity to initiate the next step. Fear squeezes her chest, and for a second, she worries that she isn’t brave enough to follow through. Every fiber of her being is pleading with her to just take that risk, but another, more rational side of her, is saying it’s better to say a quick I don’t know, and they would move on as normal.

“Where would you come?”

Oh, it feels so filthy to ask that, but it’s so relieving to hear the hum of approval that passes through his lips.

Her heart races, not like before; this is exciting and new and arousing, and it feels wrong. She doesn’t even know what he looks like; hell, she doesn’t even know his real name, and she’s so fucking ready and willing to give herself to him. There’s just so many reasons to not pursue him. She feels ashamed, almost, that she is weak for a man she knows nothing about.

“Hmm, that’s a good question. Where would you like me to come?”

But how can she not get weak when he asks her things like that?

Shivers bloom on her skin in sunflower blossoms. She knows what he wants to hear, and usually, she would tease him, telling him that he didn’t care if he even came or not, but the throbbing between her legs is relentless, and she’s just lust-drunk that she’ll say just about anything to get what she needs. She begins rubbing herself again, focusing solely on her clit this time instead of the entirety of her pussy in the palm of her hand. Breathing out shakily, she answers honestly.

“Everywhere.”

He moans, and she knows that was the right answer.

“Everywhere? Such a greedy girl. You want me to come down your throat? You wanna taste it? Maybe, I’ll have you choke on my cock, fuck y’face until you’re crying.”

After he was done fucking her, she’s sure that he would yank her up either by the rope around her breasts or by the belt around her neck (she can’t decide which yet) and put his cock by her mouth, rubbing himself over her lips and chin, but never quite pushing past the barrier of her lips; no, she would be the one to open her sweet mouth for him, her jaw lax and tongue wet as she takes everything he’d give her.

God, yes, she wants to taste him. She wants him to use her in every possible, degrading way: to use her mouth while she tied up, under his mercy, to fuck her face until she has tears dripping down her cheeks, wetting her heaving chest, to come down her throat until she’s choking on him, but he would pinch her nose and make her taste it until her vision was blurry.

“You’d take it all, babylove. Won’t you?”

He asks so innocently, his deep voice having a soft twinge, but she knows that it’s not optional, not that she would choose otherwise. She would greedily lap at his cum and drink it all, proudly showing off her empty mouth when she’s done. Maybe, he would insist that she keep it in her mouth and pull her into a wet, heated kiss, prying her lips apart so he can taste himself on her tongue.

“I could make a mess on your belly or your tits, and then, I could lick you clean. Or I could mark up your thighs and watch it drip onto the sheets.”

The thought of him marking her with his come is nearly enough for her to reach her peak. A voice in the back of her head chastises her for being so greedy; this is something she has fantasized about since they started talking, and it’s going to be over before it can even begin at this rate. She needs to distract herself, to focus on anything other than the painful throbbing between her legs.

“Or I could come inside you.”

That’s the last thing she needed to hear.

Only because it makes a thick bead of arousal seep into her sheets. It makes her finally give in and sink two fingers inside herself, and <i>fuck, she’s so wet and swollen and pliable. She sobs, truly biting back even louder cries behind gritted teeth. She curses again and again at the feeling coursing through her veins, heat spreading in her belly as her hips frantically move against her ministrations.

“By the sound of that moan, I think that’s definitely preferred. Such a filthy girl. Y’want me to fill your belly? Want me to mark you as mine?”

She just knows that he could fill her to the brim, but he would want to prolong the experience as much as possible, teasing her with his cock and coaxing her to beg for his cum.

She could just imagine the determined look in his eyes, so close to coming, but he would pull out, just barely teasing her trembling entrance with his twitching cock. He wouldn’t move, and when she would beg for him to put it back in and just fuck her until she couldn’t breath, he would say very simply: if y’want my cum so bad, put my cock back inside.

God, his face would be gleaming with this power, satisfied with seeing her so needy for his cum. Shamefully, she would put one of her hands on his hip while the other grasps his cock, pushing on him until he sinks entirely inside her once again, but he still wouldn’t move, simply filling her, the both of them twitching with arousal. He would demand that she make him come if she wants it so bad, as if it's a gift from the heavens.

“Are you touching yourself?” He asks, and only then does she realize that she was drowning in her fantasy; the sudden change makes her stop rubbing herself, her vision hazy. She parts her lips with wet fingers, slipping back down to her entrance, gently prodding inside until that euphoria builds once again.

“Yes,” she admits shamefully. “‘M so fucking wet for you.”

“Dirty little slut,” he says sharply. He has no room to judge, especially since she can hear the all-too-familiar sounds to him jerking his cock, wet sounds of his fist passing over the thick head echoing in her empty room. She is near tears at this point, so needy and high and horny, but she wants to make this last.

“Would you let me come? Please, can I come?”

It’s his turn to moan with approval, and she feels proud. His heavy breathing in time with hers, he seems to be lost in pleasure, voice hitching as he struggles to find words. Her orgasm swells to a near crest once again, but she wants to hear him finish. At this point, she knows what it sounds like, from the frantic ramblings to the guttural moans, and he’s not quite there yet.

“Do you think you deserve to come, honey? You think you’ve been a good girl f’me?”

“Yes, I’m a good girl—fuck—please, please, I need to come.” She stumbles through her words, what little power she held in her withering grasp deflating instantly from his words.

“I dunno, I think you’re a brat who just wants to get off.”

It’s painful how much his words impact her, volatile muscles spasming while she staves of hee end. She whimpers, sinking further in her headspace; she feels a cloud settle in her vision (or perhaps those are tears), overwhelming yet freeing.

“No, I’m your good girl,” she insists.

“I think you’ll have to prove it to me, honey,” he replies slyly. “I don’t think I’ll let you come quickly. I want you to beg for it. Can you do that f’me, babylove? Beg me to come.”

“Fuck, I’m so close,” she says. “Please, please, I need it. Please, let me come.”

“You can do better than that,” he says, voice cracking. Their harmonious sounds of excitement drive both of them closer to their orgasms.

“Oh, god—please, I—fuck—I need it so bad. ‘M so close, please.” She can barely speak coherently. Chills wrack her sore body, waves of throbbing pleasure threatening to break her. She wanted—no, needed—him to finish.

“Come f’me, Honey,” he says. “You’re my good girl, so good f’me. C’mon, babylove, come with me.”

She does. With ears ringing and eyes closing, she comes until her pussy aches. It feels never ending, euphoria consuming every part of her sweat-laden flesh, chilling and fiery, for hours—or perhaps only seconds. She can’t tell.

“Thank you,” she whispers, her vision blurry. Her body trembles with residual aftershocks of her intense orgasm. She lays spread open on her bed, her pussy still too sensitive to close her legs entirely.

“Thank you for letting me come.” In her daze, her limbs fall away limply. All she can do is exist at this moment. She vaguely wonders if he finished with her, the thought of his deep moans fueling another fire. A part of her is disappointed that she wasn't present enough to listen to him, but another part knows that more opportunities will come.

“You’re so welcome, honey,” he says sweetly. “I think we both really needed that today.”

She hums, still recovering from such a powerful end. She slowly regains her breathing.

“I guess I should be thanking you because that’s one of the best orgasms I’ve ever had,” he says. She laughs.

“You flatter me.”

“I’m serious. Nearly gave myself a pearl necklace.”

And just like that, everything continues as normal. Both know that the other is naked and satiated, but neither feels uncomfortable with the fact. If anything, it makes things relieved, open, or comfortable. They’re both giggly in the golden after-glow.

“What does this mean for us, Honey?”

As, yes, the dreaded ‘talk’. Fear immediately spikes in her veins, and she struggles to find her words. Before she can answer, he begins speaking again.

“Look, I really like talking with you, and I don’t want this to make things weird, but I meant what I said earlier. That was probably one of the best orgasms of my life, and I don’t think that I could live without your pretty little moans now that I’ve heard them. Maybe, we can do that again. We don’t have to put a label on it or anything, if you don’t want to.”

Her heart sinks. Is that all that he wants?

“Right, it doesn’t have to be anything serious, just us having some stress relief.” Her words are dry and forced, feeling like bile in her mouth. She grits her teeth. What the hell had she just gotten herself into?

“Hey, uh, it’s late, and I have to wake up early tomorrow. Same time next week?”

She hopes that he doesn’t think that she regrets what they did, and she hopes he doesn’t think too much into her abrupt ending of the call. It’s not a total lie; she does have work early tomorrow morning, but she has had more than a few days where she was running on two hours of sleep and a miracle. She just wants to get off the phone before he hears the contemplation in her voice.

“You think I can wait a week after that? You have too much faith in me.”

“I think you’ll survive, babe,” she says.

“Good night, babylove.”

“Good night.”

She falls asleep quickly after, dreaming of the nameless, faceless man who she bares her soul to.

Later that night, as Harry edits the finally finished audio, he thinks back to Honey and their mutual pleasure, feeling like an absolute idiot for saying that it was nothing serious. He wasn’t expecting her to agree so emphatically, so quickly.

Although, what had he expected? He was the one who suggested it. No matter, he can’t have a relationship right now, especially a long distance one. He would just end up getting hurt, but he likes her too much to stop talking to her completely. He finally took their relationship further even if it won’t lead to anything more.

—

“Are you ready to admit defeat?”

Y/N lets out a breathy laugh, despite her current situation, her hand rubbing leisure circles on her already sensitive clit, which still throbs from her first orgasm of the night. Tango murmurs praise in her humming ears.

She’s not really sure what they are, and she doesn’t want to think about it. It would only complicate things more.

Friends? Definitely.

Well, maybe not definitely, since she doesn’t even know his name, but what other word could she use to define their relationship? What sort of friends would say such filthy things to each other? Why would he call her ‘my honey’ so emphatically if they were ‘just friends’? Too afraid of misinterpreting his intentions and embarrassing herself, she doesn’t mention anything, and he never does either, but it keeps her awake at night, wondering what they could be if she could just put her feelings to words.

This would be the second hour of their phone call, and it only took them ten minutes for the conversation to turn into one of their “stress relieving sessions”. Both of them had a terrible day; she was late for the first day at her new job (they were understanding given the circumstances, but it still left a sour taste in her mouth), and he slept through an exam. She eased him into a submissive headspace quickly, babbling about what a good boy he is and how proud she is of him. Within minutes, he came, and she whispered all the filthy things she wanted to do to him until he was completely spent, his cock milked of all remnants of his seed, twitching and throbbing with empty orgasms.

He easily fell into the dominant headspace after his quick high, and he was adamant that he could make her come more than any of her other partners, even without him truly there. She knows that he can; hell, she has touched herself to his voice more times than she could count, but she likes teasing him, hearing him get all riled up and stubborn.

“Are you gonna come again, honey?”

“Nope,” she breathes, “Not even a little close.”

“You’re obviously lying or not trying,” he says sharply, and a sense of pride swells in her chest at her ability to get a rise out of him without even trying. She smirks.

“What are you gonna do? Punish me?”

“I might have to.”

She’s sure he would, too, but it would be in the most pleasurable way possible, with his mouth and fingers and cock stimulating her until she comes so many times she can’t take anymore. Her fingers trace her most intimate area, nails scraping against her quivering core. She sinks two fingers inside, feeling her sopping pussy swallow them easily, adjusting quickly and craving more. She tries to find that sweet, spongy spot inside her, but she can’t seem to reach it.

“Wish it was your fingers,” she mumbles, her movements certain and even, but it’s never enough for her greedy body.

“Yeah, lovie?” He croons, “they’d be so big in your tight little pussy.” She hums, wishing that he was there to stuff her in every way possible.

“Would you wear your rings?”

“For you? Of course.” Her eyes roll back at the thought; his thick fingers could tear her at the seams, and with the added texture of his rings, she would be coming within seconds. Her clit throbs, blood rushing in time with her racing heart, and she massages it harder, wanton and waiting for yet another release. “C’mon, babylove, Come for me. Make me proud,” he coaxes. His words make her fall over that edge once more, thighs shaking and pussy weeping. She’s sure there’s a creamy stain beneath her, seeping into her wet skin.

“Again,” he demands. She thinks she may break. “Keep going, babylove. Where’s that toy you told me about?”

He knows that she won’t be able to come much longer on her own, with the pain overwhelming the pleasure.

“It’s so far away,” she whines.

“Go grab it, love,”

Her legs tremble as she twists around, reaching blindly into her bedside drawer. She can’t close her legs too much without getting overstimulated; her legs ache and twitch. Once the toy is situated just above her clit, she ticks it on. Her body reacts immediately, limbs jolting about, hips ducking away, and her voice catching. Gasping, she almost wants to take the toy away, the stimulation being far too much.

He thinks differently.

“Turn it up higher, lovie,” he says so sweetly. Her chest feels like it could almost collapse into itself. Still dizzy from her orgasm, she’s not sure if she can take it, her body fighting against her. She wants to beg and plead for something, but she doesn’t even know what for. Is it for yet another orgasm that will surely be more powerful that any other? Or is it for the burning at every nerve ending to stop?

“I dunno—”

“You can take it, such a good little bunny for me.”

The vibrator ticks to the next setting, a sharp, persistent sound echoes in her empty room, followed by an even louder shout. She has not control anymore. Thankfully, she’s home alone or else it would be an awkward morning with her roommate listening to her cries of pleasure well into the night. Her hand shakes, but she presses the head of the toy harder to her clit. She lets out a guttural groan, feeling euphoria seep from every pore.

“There it is,” he moans, breathing growing ragged. He’s surely jerking himself off, basking in the pleasure with her, and it makes her arousal burn deeper. She wants to put on a show for him, to egg him on and make him feel as good as he makes her feel.

“There’s my pretty girl. Let me hear you, baby.”

She can barely squeeze out a few breathless whimpers from her chest, hedonistic—no, animalistic—sobs crash through her. Pain and pleasure fight for control, just as her mind and body do.

“Feel good?”

“Yes,” she says weakly. “Feels so good.”

She comes quickly with a silent cry, her lips parted and face scrunched. Saliva slips from her open mouth, and she is unable to wipe it away, lewdly dripping down her chin to her neck before finding it’s place on her dirtied sjeets. The recovery period is quicker this time; it’s either that or her body is becoming numb to anything but pleasure. It feels like it’s never ending with the vibrator still nestled tightly to her puffy cilt. Her lips are surely swollen now too, tender from too many orgasms, yet still sopping with arousal.

“Don’t take it away,” he says, “You got another one in ya. You can do it, lovie.”

His voice is muffled beneath blankets where her phone lies, lost in her ravenous bouts of pleasure, limbs writhing and tossing. Her body aches when she twists to put it back up by her ear to hear him more clearly, muscles tight from her previous orgasms. Legs closing slightly, she whines when the toy presses harder against her clit, hips ducking away from the strong vibrations, eyes fluttering closed. Her phone falls out of her grasp once more, but the light illuminates the dark room, casting a warm glow.

“Please—”

She’s not really sure what she’s begging for; it just slips out, a weak plea. Perhaps, she just wants him to be there instead of on the other end of a phone call, in some faraway place she doesn’t even know. The room would feel so much warmer with him here, her back pressed to his chest, their sweat mingling. Maybe he would wear those pretty lace stockings he showed her a picture of once, the glittery fabric coarse against her skin as he teases his toes along her leg, keeping them spread. His freckled and inked arms wrapped tightly around her middle, paying special attention to her tummy, he would whisper sweet things in her ear and press on the area right below her belly button, telling her of how he wants to grind his pretty cock against her soft middle until she is sticky with his precum, how he can fuck himself that deep inside her. She would feel him for days after.

“I know it hurts, baby, but just one more, then you can go to bed.”

It sounds so nice, the thought of sinking into her pillows for a good night's rest, but an orgasm sounds even better, one leaving her spent and satiated and sleepy.

“Such a good girl f’me.”

As much as she wants to, the sensitivity becoming nearly unbearable, she can’t stop; she wants to make him proud, to prove to him that she’s his good girl who can take it. Even though he’s not truly there with her to hold her and make sure she comes, she still wants to do as he says. Her legs tremble, threatening to close.

She squeaks when the vibrator hits a particularly sensitive angle on her clit, and she bites into her pillow to keep from crying out. Her hips work desperately, to reach that high for the last time, just one more, like an addict itching for one more hit. It’s her fourth orgasm within ten minutes, and this might just be her breaking point.

“I dunno if I can.” Her words slur, and she can feel spit dripping down her puckered lips. She suddenly wishes he was there to wipe it away, thumb soft and subtle against her skin, lingering on her puffy lips.

“One more, babylove,” he insists. “Just one more. You’re doing so well.” She bites back a mangled cry, eyes squeezing shut, her thoughts lost in a dark chaos. His voice is the only anchor amidst a dizzying high, coaxing her through her stupor with sweet words.

“My pretty girl, my good fucking girl, taking it so well.” His gravelly voice pulls her from drowning, his words gritty from his clenched jaw. “You’re not hurting too much, are ya?”

His deep voice is soft, lilting with a tender care she needs. She could simply melt, blanketed in the warmth of his rich voice.

“A little,” she admits, a dull ache in her belly when she clenches too tightly. “But it feels so good.”

The vibrations pulse through her body, leaving her voice shaky, and she shifts slightly, hips digging into the mattress. It settles on the underside of her clit, and it’s so close to that one spot, until finally—there, there, there—right there. She groans, low and guttural, drawn out from the depths of her chest, animalistic almost. Her body burns and trembles for a second before yet another strong, unrelenting wave drowns her. Every muscle in her body tenses as the head of the vibrator finds the one tender spot on her clit, catching at just the right angle that leaves her eyes teary, world dizzy. She knows it’ll be painful if she doesn’t pull away, a harsh orgasm building, but she can’t stop, not with him listening to her, waiting for her final bitter end.

She’s doing so good for him, such a good bunny. She trembles in the wake of such a violent euphoria, weak moans slipping in time with her belated breathing. It passes through in waves, the pain, a bittersweet burning welling deep inside her, but a different ache persists, one that leaves her yearning for more, one that makes her dig her feet into the mattress and press herself harder on the toy. Her toes curl, and her back arches, free hand twisting the sheets.

He hums appreciatively.

“My bunny likes it when it hurts. Doesn’t she?”

“Yes,” she sobs, “I want it to hurt.” Hips shuttering away from the relentless vibrator, Y/N feels her final orgasm build, pain lingering around the edges as her muscles twitch.

“Such a dirty little slut.” Her back arches at his filthy words, arousal pooling beneath her. She could feel it wetting her thighs. “Just f’me, right, honey? Just my pretty slut.”

She comes quickly, eyes rolling back as it overwhelms all of her senses. She feels tense yet relaxed. A broken cry breaks from her swollen lips as she shatters, falling apart for the final time. Her muscles quiver, tiny shocks lingering in the aftermath of so many orgasms in such quick succession. Her limbs ache. Her heart races. Her pussy throbs. She knows that this will be all she can take, her body completely spent. She can’t find the energy to keep her eyes open, and they roll back.

“You alright?”

“Yeah,” she says, still struggling to find her breath and collect her thoughts, but when she does, a smile breaks her face. She feels everything and nothing all at once, so perfectly numb. She finds herself laughing incredulously because that cocky little bastard was right: he made her come more times than anyone has before. She laughs until tears slip down her warm cheeks.

This is the part where the emotions start to become just as overwhelming as her release. So much sinks in all at once, and she realizes just how alone she is, and she wishes he was here to pull her back down to earth, to hold and to love. She feels deflated. The sexual release is such a rush, but it brings devastating lows. With tears in her eyes, she struggles not to cave into herself.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” she lies, a sob curling in her lungs, forcing its way out in a blubbering mess. Once the first one escapes, the rest follow easily. She can’t seem to stop, heaving cries wracking her already sore body as she clutches onto her pillow. She fists her phone to her ear in an attempt to be closer to him, but that makes the feeling grow worse, settling to a black hole in her stomach, sucking all euphoria from her. Tears soak into her skin and sink into her ear, muffling his comforting words.

“Let it out, babylove,” he says softly. “I know, I know. I know. Sometimes it can just get really overwhelming.” His words are gentle, just as he is, and maybe that’s what makes this even worse. He is everything she wants. He is just so perfect for her in every way, but he is ao far from her reach. Maybe it would be better if he wasn’t such a good person. Maybe that would make the yearning go away. She’s quiet, slowly breathing through stuttering sniffles.

“Hey,” he says softly, “Go pee and clean yourself up, babe. Know you don’t like feeling all wet down there. It makes your peach all sticky.”

She nods, knowing full well that he can’t see her, but doesn’t move. She honestly doesn’t think she can.

“Go on,” he murmurs when he doesn’t hear the familiar rustling of her sheets. “‘M right here, honey.”

A few more tears squeeze out of her eyes at his words. It makes her whole demeanor crumble once again; she’s upset because he’s not really there, he’s not there to hold her and kiss her and love her, and that’s not fair. She just wants to have him here to tell her that everything will be alright; she wants him to be there to laugh with, to just be with. He is such a good part of her life, but she just wishes that he could physically be there in the way she dreams.

She cleans up quickly, tossing her spent underwear into her dirty laundry. Just as she had suspected, the remnants of her orgasms stained her thighs.

What’s that ache in her chest?

“Good girl, feel better, lovie?”

She nods and whimpers, unable to calm her trembling lips.

“Good, ‘m right here, babylove. Y’did so good, so proud of you.”

She crawls back to bed moments later, shuddering breaths and swollen eyes being the only remnants of her breakdown. She sniffles and wipes her wet eyes with the back of her hand, which smells vaguely of her feminine wipes.

“Sorry, if it was too much,” he says.

“No, no need to apologize,” she says quickly to get rid of any lingering guilt he has. It felt amazing, to be tested just beyond her limits, to be pushed to a shattering breaking point, to trust him to know what she can take. “It was nice. I just sorta—” Her voice breaks. “I dunno. Everything just got a little overwhelming. I think I’m better now.”

“What do you need from me, honey?”

She nearly starts crying again at how sweet he is. She almost could imagine that only a few minutes ago he was calling her his dirty little slut and demanding her to come until she could handle it.

“Just talk to me,” she says.

“So, I saw a couple dogs today,” he begins awkwardly. “Well, I was attacked by two little frenchie’s when I was walking to class, and it completely made my day ten-times better. They were so cute with their chubby little legs.”

He rambles on about his week, and it feels nice and familiar.

She’s nearly asleep when he begins talking about his mother. Apparently, she was visiting him last week, which was nice for about a day; then, he began realizing why he moved away in the first place: she is so smothering.

“And my mum is always nagging me to go out and socialize. She was like,” he breathes in, adjusting his tone to a falsetto. “Harry, you’re never gonna be able to find anyone if you don’t…”

He continues as normal, chattering away in his low, sleepy voice. She doesn’t think he even realizes his slip up, words spluttering out of his mouth so quickly that even he probably couldn’t hear it. She smiles as sleep finally overwhelms her.

Harry.

His name is Harry.

—

[baedreamverse]

late night — l.hs

enhypen heeseung head cannon

classmate!Heeseung who contacted you when he heard you needed a roommate.

"Hey, is the roommate offer still available?"

classmate!Heeseung who you find attractive the moment you laid eyes on him with his charming smile.

roommate!Heeseung who moved in right across from you in the apartment complex.

roommate!Heeseung who has an adopted cat named 'Ddongsik'.

roommate!Heeseung who was awkward at first but got comfortable every time you ran into each other in the community spaces of your complex.

roommate!Heeseung who’s known as the ‘ACE’ in your college.

roommate!Heeseung who plays basketball often with his friends on the weekend.

roommate!Heeseung in which you found out has amazing vocals as he sang loudly one weekend night.

“Sorry, was I being too loud? Haha”

roommate!Heeseung who you encountered one day at the college campus with his group of friends hanging out by the main quad.

“Oh hey! These are my friends-“

roommate!Heeseung who invites you to play with him and his friends during their gaming sessions.

roommate!Heeseung is competitive and would do anything to win.

roommate!Heeseung whom you got to know as someone with a free spirit and occasionally taking naps anywhere he can.

roommate!Heeseung who often wears beanies.

roommate!Heeseung who prefers quiet areas over loud ones.

roommate!Heeseung who’s love language is quality time, in which he tends to search for you when he’s bored.

roommate!Heeseung whom you have late night ramen together at midnight.

roommate!Heeseung who goes red and becomes a giggling mess when you’re drinking together.

roommate!Heeseung who finds horror mazes thrilling and laughs at every encounter with the ghost actor on set with you.

“Rock, paper, scissors on who goes first.”

“I think that mannequin is human, watch this-“

roommate!Heeseung who plays the piano and guitar whenever he encounters one.

roommate!Heeseung who helps you with the chores, in which the both of you have clean days together.

roommate!Heeseung who asks if you wanted anything from the grocery store.

“Did you want me to get your favorite ice cream?”

roommate!Heeseung who notices if you're not in a good mood and tries to cheer you up by making jokes.

roommate!Heeseung who doesn't realize what kind of effect he has on you when he wears sleeveless tops.

roommate!Heeseung who subconsciously flirts with you every time you run into each other.

roommate!Heeseung who pats your head whenever he finds you cute and endearing.

roommate!Heeseung who dresses well in plaid or leather attire with his signature cologne.

roommate!Heeseung who brings an extra jacket of his when you're at an outing with him.

"Gotta make sure to keep you warm, I can't have you catching a cold on me."

roommate!Heeseung who’s protective of you whenever the both of you are out for bar hopping, intimidating the guys who tried approaching you.

“Stay close to me,” as he intertwined his hand with yours, leading you to the table where his friends sat.

roommate!Heeseung who you share a playlist with, occasionally recommending songs to each other.

roommate!Heeseung who remembers your usual coffee order.

roommate!Heeseung who helps relieve your stress by playing games with him, or taking late-night drives together.

"We're more than just roommates, I'll be by your side. Whatever worries come your way, let me help you."

a/n: this is lowkey short but i hope you like it. I’ve been wanting to do an angst scenario as well, but we’ll see about that. 🚨 Also, please continue to STREAM XO (YT/Spotify/Genie/Apple Music/etc) & help VOTE as well (ALLCHART/U Pick/Mnet+/Superstar X). Let’s get a win for our boys hard work in the album! 🔥🙌🏻

☆ pls like & reblog ☆