#phones are so expensive I was relieved

[stars-that-do-not-give-a-damn]

humanity really is full of kindness. today I went to buy a new phone bc my old one died a death, and my friend had sent me a picture of her staff card so that I could hopefully get a discount at the shop.

when I asked the girl working there whether I could use the photo of the barcode to get the discount she told me that they don't allow that but then she winked and typed the numbers in by hand.

a kind gesture that really meant the world to me

[adragonprinceswhore]

Make You Feel My Love

Aemond Targaryen x Ex-Girlfriend

Summary: A few months after you break things off with your boyfriend, Aemond, you start receiving strange messages and phone calls from an unknown number. Things escalate when you’re sent a video secretly filmed half a year ago, of you and Aemond having sex.

Warnings: 18+, dark themes (mind the tags!), obsession, stalking, exhibitionism, blackmail, threats of violence, emotional manipulation, DUBCON (drunk sex), degradation, dirty talk, fingering, deepthroat, breathplay, spanking, P in V, hairpulling

A/N: Based on a request by anon, I hope you like this! Another spooky fic for the spooky season, Happy All Saint's Eve! 🖤

Word Count: 5100

Your breath turns into small clouds in the cold air as you step out of the office building, the chill of late autumn biting through your wool coat. 

It’s already dark outside. The tall lamp-posts lining the empty streets cast a pale light over Cobbler’s Square, the business hub of King’s Landing. As you fumble with your gloves to put them on, your phone vibrates, breaking the silence of the still night. You glance down and see a message from an unknown number:

"Working overtime again?"

Your eyes linger on the screen. The message makes you shiver, it’s uncomfortably familiar yet oddly unsettling. You scan the sidewalk, wondering if someone from work might be pulling a prank at your expense, but there's no one around, just the faint murmur of traffic in the distance. 

After a second of consideration, you decide it must’ve been someone texting the wrong number, so you slip the phone back into your pocket, and head toward the underground.

The one good thing about staying late at the office is that there’s always a free seat on the train. You take a seat, put in your earbuds and close your eyes, relieved that another stressful day is behind you. 

Still, the strange text you’d received leaves a knot of unease tightening within you. 

Your mind drifts to recent news reports about a man harassing women across the city. He’d been lurking around office buildings, the stories said, learning his victims’ routines, showing up at the same places, always at the wrong times. 

The coincidence is eerie, almost too frightening to think about. So you pull out your phone, trying to distract your wandering mind. 

You scroll through recent news, and just as you feel yourself relax a bit, another reminder of your recent distress pops up on your screen,

Aemond Targaryen.

It’s hard to keep up with recent affairs and not bump into him. 

A member of the Targaryen family, one of the most powerful media dynasties in the country, he was untouchable, the kind of person people said was destined to rule the world. At first, he’d seemed like the everything a woman could wish for: captivating, attentive, always ready with grand gestures.

But as time passed, his attention turned darker. 

His texts became constant, then invasive. 

He’d ask where you were at all hours, demanding you kept your location tracker on at all times. He would question your friends, arguing they were ‘beneath you’. He even hinted at you quitting your job as a political reporter, a position you had studied and fought for for 8 years, to come work for him. “I’ll make you my personal assistant”, he’d said, “Keep you close in case I need anything.”

His controlling tendencies, paired with his arrogant worldview was what ultimately led you to break things off with him . And when you finally did, he’d accepted it with chilling calm; no fight, no anger, just a quiet nod.

You force the thought from your mind, stepping off the tube and onto the platform. 

Once you’re home, you kick off your shoes, lock the door, and sink into the quiet solace of your apartment. You’re pouring a long-awaited glass of wine when your phone vibrates again. 

The screen lights up, the same unknown number.

"I hope you got home safe."

The pit in your stomach returns.

It started off with little things. 

Strange texts that seemed harmless enough. Then came the letters, always printed and neatly folded, never including a return address. 

At first, you brushed them off. It was easy to wave away the unease, convincing yourself that it was a prank, a mix-up, maybe just a wrong number. They were never addressed specifically to you anyway. 

A little discomfort, nothing more. But as the days turned into weeks, the messages began to change. 

They weren’t just random or generic anymore; they became specific, too personal, with a familiar vocabulary that made your skin crawl. Whoever was sending them seemed to know you intimately; your routines and habits. 

Things you had never shared with anyone. 

The messages were like an invisible set of eyes, always watching from places you couldn’t see.

You still remember the first time you felt true fear. It was a Friday night when your phone rang, and you answered to hear nothing but dead silence. 

No voice, no background noise, just the suffocating, empty void on the other end of the line. Stunned into silence, you waited, but the call never broke the silence. 

Eventually, you hung up, convincing yourself that it was nothing, probably a misdial. But then the calls started coming more frequently. And with each passing second you had to listen to the silence on the other end, your unease grew. 

The letters were even worse. 

They began appearing not only in your mailbox, but slipped under your door as well, tucked into the gaps like sinister little secrets. 

You remember holding one, your fingers trembling as you read the words, each line making your apartment feel smaller, as if the walls themselves were closing in on you. The messages never outright threatened, but their tone was unsettling, implying that the sender knew where you lived, what you did, even how you spent your quietest, most private moments. 

Before they were impersonal, now they included your name as well. 

You really shouldn’t walk alone at night. 

The city is full of dangers, and someone as precious as you deserves better. I watch you sometimes, you know. 

I watch the way you clutch your bag a little tighter when the shadows loom over you, how you shiver when the wind cuts through your coat. It makes me want to keep you safe.

You work so hard, staying late at the office. It must be exhausting, always pushing yourself. But don’t worry. I’m never far away. Watching. Waiting. Ready to step in if you ever need me.

Sleep well tonight. 

I’ll be thinking of you.

The animalistic fear the letters brought out in you caused tears of despair to shine in your eyes. Never before had you felt so unsettled; robbed of your sanctuary and stripped bare under the unrelenting gaze of an unknown threat. 

When you thought things couldn’t get worse, you notice it in the corner of your eye whenever you get off the tube. Someone has started following you home. 

As with the other terrors, it began subtly. 

A shadow moving just out of your line of sight, footsteps that kept the same rhythm as yours, only to fall silent when you turn to look. 

Initially, you brushed it off as paranoia. The strange texts, calls and letters had made your nerves stand on high alert at all times. So you walk faster, clenching your keys in your hand, telling yourself you were imagining it.

But by now, it’s become undeniable. 

On more than one occasion, you’ve glanced back and caught the outline of a figure lingering just far enough away to melt into the darkness. 

Once, you thought you saw someone duck into an alley when you turned around too quickly, and the image haunted you for days. 

Each night, the walk from the tube station to your building feels longer, the streetlights casting distorted shadows that play tricks on your mind. In retaliation, you cross the street randomly, change your route, but the feeling never fades.

The worst part is that the presence doesn’t make itself known. 

It doesn’t shout or approach. 

It simply waits. 

Watches.

Now, whenever you walk home, every gust of wind and rustling of leaves makes your heart beat fast and hard. You know someone is out there, tracking your every move. 

Always lurking just out of reach. 

The world around you has become a riddle of dark mysteries and hidden threats, and the sense of safety you once had feels like a distant memory.

You feel it every evening, that unnerving prickling sensation of being watched. 

At the office, you catch glimpses of people who seem too familiar, faces that never linger but somehow stay with you. 

On the train, you feel eyes on you, shadowy figures that seem to mirror your every move. Once or twice, you’ve even taken detours down different streets, slipping into shops just to lose whoever’s following you. But somehow, they’re always there, just at the edge of your vision, close enough to make your skin crawl but too far to confront.

Tonight, as you step onto the station platform, your heart hammers in your chest. It’s crowded, people weaving through the tiled halls, but even among the sea of strangers, you feel that presence nearby, watching. 

You keep your head down, slipping into the crowd with hurried steps, your fingers gripping the strap of your bag like a lifeline. Your throat feels tight, and each breath becomes an effort as you board the train and move toward an empty seat.

Sitting by the window, you try to focus on the reflection in the glass. Your face looks pale and unfamiliar; a distorted version of yourself, yet it’s the background you watch carefully, searching for that familiar silhouette or lingering stare. The lights flicker across the train’s interior as it pulls away from the platform, the steady hum of the tracks doing little to calm the creeping dread in your chest.

You finally reach your destination and exit quickly, walking down the street to your house in hurried steps. 

Your eyes scan the dimly lit surroundings, every shadow and alleyway filling with the possibility of someone lurking. Halfway to your building, you spot it—a figure across the road, barely illuminated by the faint glow of the surrounding lamp-posts, watching you. 

They don’t approach.

They don’t call out. 

Just watch.

A chill crawls up your spine, but you force yourself to keep walking.

Each step feels like a lifetime as you quicken your pace, the distance to your front door stretching endlessly before you. The familiar sound of footsteps follows behind, soft but persistent, a reminder that you’re not alone. 

You fumble for your keys, fingers shaking far too much for you to be graceful, and the moment the door swings open, you slip inside, pushing it shut and twisting the lock with a desperate click.

Safe. 

At least, you think so.

You move to the window, pulling the curtains tightly closed and double-checking every lock, heart still racing. The eerie silence of your apartment only serves to amplify the tension, and you try to steady your breathing, pressing your back against the wall, reassuring yourself that you’re alone. But then your eyes fall to your phone on the counter, the screen lights up, casting a cold, unsettling glow across the room.

Another message from the unknown number.

“You looked scared tonight. No need to be. I’m just looking out for you.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and the room suddenly feels colder. 

They were there, watching, close enough to see the fear in your eyes. You swipe through the messages, reading the last few words again and again, each one making it feel like the blood in your veins slowly turns to ice. 

Every instinct tells you to delete everything, to block the number, but it won’t change the fact that they were there. They saw you. They know where you live, and they know you’re alone.

You check the locks once more, willing yourself to believe it’s just a cruel prank. But deep down, you know this is no mistake, no accident.

Tomorrow, you tell yourself, you’ll file a report. You’ll talk to the police, maybe find a friend to stay with for a few nights. But as you lay down, staring into the dark, the words echo in your mind,

"No need to be scared. I’m just looking out for you."

You close your eyes, but the sleep you need feels too far away to be attainable, and all you can feel is that presence. 

Just beyond the walls. 

Watching.

Waiting.

It’s late at night when your phone buzzes again, the screen lighting up the dark room. 

You’ve become almost numb to the sound of notifications, each one feeling like another weight to the stones of anxiety heavy on your chest. 

You almost dismiss it, too exhausted to care for more ominous messages, but then that rush of fear washes over you once more. 

It’s not a text message. 

It’s a video, sent from the same unknown number that’s haunted you for weeks.

You hesitate, one finger hovering over the screen as dread, dark and thick like petrol, pools in your stomach. 

Slowly, you tap to open it, holding your breath in fear of moving even slightly. The video is shaky, filmed through a crevice from a distance, as though captured by someone hiding just out of sight. 

Still, you recognise the setting instantaneously. 

The Targaryen summer house. 

The video depicts two silhouettes; one laying on the bed of one of the many guest rooms of the vast mansion, the other with their head between the first person’s thighs. 

The filmer zooms in on the long, silver hair of the person kneeling next to the bed, and your heart beats so fiercely it feels like it’ll leap out of your chest as the camera moves upwards, until it lands on your face, twisted in pleasure. 

You remember the day clearly. 

It was Aemond’s brother Aegon’s yearly summer party, an elaborate excuse for the Targaryen’s oldest boy to get shit-faced with the elite of Westeros. 

Aemond, never a fan of crowds or parties, had lured you into one of the guest bedrooms for some ‘quality time’ together, which quickly escalated into sex on the crisp, expensive cotton sheets. 

You raise the volume, and can clearly hear the shameless moans leaving your mouth as your ex boyfriend makes you come on his tongue. 

Your stomach turns. 

The camera lingers far too long on your face, zooming in and out, capturing not only the sounds of your bliss, but each twitch and change in your face. 

An overpowering sense of nausea washes over you as you realize that even then, someone was there. 

Someone was watching, recording your most vulnerable moments from the shadows.

The video cuts off abruptly, and a new message appears beneath it,

“Even then, I was closer than you thought.”

Your blood runs cold, and your hands start to shake. 

The message confirms your deepest fear. 

This isn’t a recent obsession. 

Whoever this person is, they’ve been watching you for far longer than you imagined, lurking in the background of your life, inserting themselves into your most private memories. 

You try to breathe, to think clearly, but the walls of your apartment once again close in on you, trapping you inside your body, fighting to run yet with nowhere to go. 

The sense of violation is suffocating, and questions flood your mind. 

How long have they been there? 

How much have they seen?

Desperate and out of options, you swipe your thumb over the screen of your phone, and call the only other person who might have some answers. 

Aemond’s fingers tap restlessly against the rim of his coffee cup. The twitch in the corner of his mouth tells you he's annoyed, and the speed of which his eye darts around the coffee shop, refusing to look directly at you, lets you know it’s your fault. 

You’re not sure if he can see the tears shining in your eyes, he’s barely looked at you since you came. He always saw crying as a sign of a weak mind, and so you do your best not to blink, scared a tear will fall and reveal just how pathetic you feel. 

It’s not like you’re doing a good job hiding it anyway. The dark circles under your eyes and the paranoid pleading in your gaze betray all your recent troubles. 

“I-, I’d like to thank you for coming here after how things… ended”

Your voice is steady, yet there is a thickness in your throat that makes you sound a bit strange, like you’re trying too hard to remain neutral. A performance you’re not quite pulling off, despite your best efforts. 

“Mm”

He’s still not looking at you, stern face reflecting both disinterest and agitation. The relentless tapping of his finger continues, practically screaming at you to hurry up and confess why you asked your ex to meet up. 

“I’ll get straight to it. Yesterday, I received a video of… us. At that party where we-”, you search his face for recognition, chase his eye so it meets yours. Your voice lowers, practically a whisper, 

“-you know” 

“No, I don’t” 

“Aegon’s summer party… We snuck off to the guest room and-, you know”  

Aemond finally lets his gaze meet yours, inspecting your features with a narrowed, suspicious eye. 

Does he not believe you? 

Before he can call you crazy, or dismiss your clear distress with a condescending laugh, you pull out your phone and show him the video. It’s a bit dark and gritty, but it’s clear that it’s the two of you, Aemond’s head between your legs, your own thrown back on the bed in bliss. 

“Do-, do you know who could’ve done this?” 

Aemond takes your phone and watches the video closely, pausing and zooming in on your half-naked body. He’s seen you bare and crazed with desire countless times when you were dating, yet your cheeks heat up and you feel unexplainably vulnerable as he carefully examines the video. 

After a few moments of contemplation, he hums again and hands your phone back, 

“I’ve no clue. I’ll ask Criston for the guest list, probably just one of Aegon’s insufferable friends having a laugh” 

He stands to leave, and you momentarily panic at the thought of being alone again. Just as he turns towards the door, your hand desperately grabs the fabric of his coat, and those tears that had been threatening to spill from your eyes do just that, 

“Aemond, please, I have more” 

You sound so small. So defeated. 

He looks at you with the same harsh, unimpressed look even as you silently cry. 

So cold. 

Maybe it’s what you deserve? 

“I need you, Aemond. Please just stay for a few more minutes and let me explain” 

He’s frozen for a while, contemplating whether he should indulge you or leave, surely eager to dismiss you just as you had done to him, only a month ago. 

With a sigh, his features soften somewhat, and he steps back, once again taking the seat opposite you. 

“Go on then” 

“I-, I’ve been getting all these-”, your voice breaks into a sob as you speak about your recent nightmare. 

You hadn’t dared speak to anyone about your recent terror, too afraid to acknowledge that what had occurred wasn’t simply some insane fever dream. 

“-all these messages and letters from the same number that sent the video. I don’t know why but this person seems obsessed with me” 

You hide your face behind one of your hands, mortified by the humiliation of openly crying at a cafe, next to your ex nonetheless. 

Aemond observes you for a moment before reaching out to place his hand over yours, warming the skin of your cheek. He catches one of the tears falling from your lashes with his thumb, 

“Send me screenshots of it all and I’ll have Criston’s team look through them. You know we own majority of King’s Guard Security, we’ll find whoever’s harassing you” 

A sigh of relief escapes your lips, and for the first time in weeks, you feel like you can breathe without a heavy stone of anxiety crushing your lungs. 

You grab Aemond’s hand, warm and strong in your trembling grip, and squeeze it slightly, 

“Thank you, Aemond” 

Aemond convinces you to take a taxi home, lock the door, and distract your unease with something calming, like taking a bath. 

You do just that, and the warm water enveloping you feels wonderfully comforting. 

You sink deeper in the tub, disappearing into the calm warmth. Just as you breathe out a deep breath that had been stuck in your throat for far too long, a sharp knock to your front door disturbs your peace.  

It’s as if a bucket of ice cold water has been dumped over you, and suddenly you shiver in the warm bath, feeling a chill overtaking you from within. 

Another knock. 

You’re frozen in place.

Immobile.

Stuck in fear. 

You don’t know how long you sit in the tub, waiting for the courage to stand, dry off, and peek out of the bathroom. 

There are no more knocks, and when your fingers are wrinkly and stiff, you finally get out. 

Peering out of the bathroom and at your front door, everything looks the same. Your eyes dart around the room until they fall on the small, white piece of paper on the floor. 

You pick it up with trembling fingers, and open it. 

Before, the letters you’d received had been neatly placed in envelopes and never hand-written. 

This note is different. 

Let me in. 

Tears of desperation well up in your eyes once more and you toss the piece of paper away as if it had burned you. 

Utterly hopeless, you reach for your phone, dialing the number to the one person that had been occupying your mind all day. 

Aemond sends for a car to come pick you up, going as far as instructing the driver to personally come get you from your flat since you feared the stalker was still somewhere nearby, watching you. 

It was Criston Cole himself that showed up at your door, a high-ranking security specialist at King’s Guard Security, often invited to do risk analyses for the government. 

Being reduced to a chauffeur was definitely far below his station, but when Aemond Targaryen hands you a task personally, you comply. 

You wearily eye the pistol strapped to his waist as he walks you to his car. Your glad that precautions are taken to ensure your safety, but also devastated by the fact that it's even necessary. 

Will this be your new normal? 

The drive to Aemond’s place doesn’t take long, and when you arrive, he offers you a slightly awkward hug in reassurance before pouring you a double whiskey,

“To calm your nerves” 

You accept the drink and take a seat on the leather sofa placed in the middle of the large room. In front of you, tall windows show an exquisite view of King’s Landing, including all famous landmarks like Maegor’s Holdfast. To your right, tall bookcases of dark wood line the wall, cutting into the modern sleekness of Aemond’s home, making it more him. 

You take a large sip of the whiskey, not minding the sharp taste that overtakes your mouth. The numbness of alcohol feels inviting after being on edge for so long. 

Aemond takes a seat next to you, his knee bumping into yours as he sits closer than necessary on the wide sofa, 

“You can stay here as long as you want” 

“Thank you, Aemond. That’s very kind of you” 

A small smile forms on his lips at your compliment, and he looks down at his hands. It’s almost a bashful look, and suddenly you guilty for the way you had so cold-heartedly dumped him. 

Sure, he had been controlling, but if the last couple of weeks had proven anything, it was the fact that danger really lurks around every corner. 

Maybe he had only been so controlling because he knew how dangerous King’s Landing truly is for young women? He had direct access to all cases filed with King’s Guard Security, he’s surely seen a lot. 

When you’ve finished your glass, Aemond wordlessly tops it up. 

You finish that too, chatting a bit about work and what you’d been up to recently, prompted by Aemond asking and eagerly listening. 

Your cheeks feel hot from the whiskey, and when you’ve finished your second drink, you place it on the glass-covered coffee table and lean into Aemond only a little more, surprisingly relaxed. 

Your eyes feel heavy as you look up at him, 

“Thank you. For everything today” 

When he smiles, those dimples that you once adored appear in his cheeks. He’s so beautiful in the soft light. So inviting. 

“Don’t mention it. The only thing I care about is that you’re safe” 

You’re not sure if it’s a sudden wave for adoration, the long-awaited relief, or the whiskey, but when you stretch your neck to kiss him, Aemond cups your cheek and runs his tongue over your lower lip. 

Your fingers feel tingly as they play with the buttons of Aemond’s crisp shirt. Your face is still comfortably warm, and when his kisses travel down to your neck, you sigh in content and throw your head back. 

You watch the skyline of King’s Landing through the tall windows of Aemond’s home; white lights decorating the skyscrapers competing in height. There’s a strange, red dot decorating one of them, occasionally blinking. 

Your eyes narrow to inspect it further, but quickly close as Aemond’s fingers slip into your underwear, 

“I’ve missed this”, he murmurs into your neck, and sucks at the skin. 

“Me too”, you sigh. 

His fingers know exactly how to work you, and after a few more tender kisses to your neck and deliberate flicks to your clit, you meet his fingers with your hips, desperate for more. 

Just as you’re about to fall apart, Aemond withdraws his hand. 

He slowly licks your essence from his sticky fingers, amused by your pathetic frown, 

“Please, Aemond. Don’t be mean” 

Seeing him savour the taste of your cunt only makes it ache more. 

“I’m not. You know what I want” 

Maybe if you had less alcohol in your body, you’d realise how bad this is.

Fucking your ex is never a good idea. 

But the heat of the whiskey warming your senses makes you reckless, and you smile as you kneel on the floor in front of him. 

With eager fingers, you pull down his zipper and take his cock in hand, already hard and pulsating in arousal. Wasting no time, you lean forward to lick the tip before ungraciously taking him into your mouth, sucking as if your life depended on it. 

Aemond tuts above you, a disapproving noise you know from when you were dating. You look up just as he moves his hands to cradle your face, mischief dancing in his eyes,

“You can do better than that” he says and pushes deeper, until his cock is in your throat and you can’t breathe. 

He releases a prolonged sigh and stays buried in your throat, stealing air from you. 

The harsh pounding between your thighs intensifies as the oxygen to your brain cuts off. You look up at Aemond, who regards you with a sinister grin, and shoves his foot between your kneeling legs, pushing at your clit.

It’s the last push you need, a playful kick to your swollen nub, and you come with his cock still deep in your throat. 

With no air to inhale and an excruciatingly consuming orgasm coursing through your body, you feel too light-headed to keep your eyes open, ready to succumb and disappear into the abyss of bliss that is the orgasm Aemond forces out of you. 

Before you lose consciousness, Aemond pulls out, a glistening sting of spit falling from your lips and spilling down your chin. 

Your ears are pounding from the rush of finally being able to breathe again, yet you hear it, like an echo in the distance. 

He’s laughing. 

“Fuck, that’s a good little slut”, he praises you, “Getting off on choking on my cock” 

He catches the drool on your chin with one hand, and forces you to stand with the other. Your legs still shake, and you stagger forward, almost falling into him. 

He laughs again, amused or condescending, you can't tell, and manoeuvres you to kneel on the sofa facing away from the city landscape. 

He brings the hand covered in your drool between your cheeks, and trails it down to your clit. You gasp at the sting of overstimulation, but Aemond’s hand doesn’t budge,

“You weren’t supposed to come from that, dirty girl”, he taunts you with a playful yet harsh smack to your ass. You whine and try to pull away, it’s all too much. 

“I wanted to tease you for a bit longer”, he whispers into your ear, and you can feel the leaking tip of his cock press between your cheeks, 

“I won’t be mean though. My precious girl deserves better” 

He slides in easily, the mess of your slickness, spit, and Aemond’s precum easing his path. 

You lean forward to brace yourself against the backrest of the sofa as he starts to fuck you, pace quick and hard, just as you remember him liking it. 

"Aemond", you moan and he goes harder, the smacks of his hips hitting the meat of your ass loud and vulgar in the quiet night, 

“Say it again”, he orders and pulls at your hair so your head falls back, “Just like that, baby, you look so fucking hot when I fuck you”

When you don’t comply fast enough, he pulls at your hair harder. You cry out his name, and he rewards your submission with a kiss to your cheek, 

“Good girl” 

After that day, things change. 

Aemond sends cars to pick you up from work so you won’t have to get on the tube. He distracts you from the eerie shiver that’s settled into your bones by bringing you out to dinner, to the cinema, to a new wine bar. 

He allows you to lean against him whenever you talk about the nightmare that the last few weeks have been. He even puts an arm around you, and occasionally presses his lips to the crown of your head. And he always listens carefully. 

The controlling tendencies that had previously chased you away now provide comfort. 

He knows where you are at all times, so no one can steal you away. 

He always answers your calls, so you never have to feel alone. 

He always meets your needs, whether it’s letting you talk shit about your boss for hours, or excitedly chat about a book you just read. 

He's always near. 

Always ready. 

Always watching.

A/N: Thanks for reading! If you liked this and want more, check out my fic The Commune!

[gyuswhore]

Hits Different (...'cause it's you) (2)

«« I trace the evidence, make it make some sense Why the wound is still bleedin' »»

PAIRING: kim mingyu x reader

SYNOPSIS: Kim Mingyu was the first friend your brother had brought home for dinner. Fast forward a couple years, his toothy smile and pierced ears would wedge their way into a permanent place in your heart. Nail to a coffin, never to escape.

or;

in which you get rejected by the only boy you've ever loved; a rejection you can't quite shake off.

GENRES: based off of 'Hits Different' by Taylor Swift, brother's best friend!au, brother!seokmin, fluff, angst, smut (in part 2) [MINORS DNI], friends(?) to lovers, university!au.

PLAYLIST: right here!

WORD COUNT (full fic): 40k (im actually embarrassed)

Part 1: 20.2k | Part 2: 20k

masterlist

WARNINGS : slowburn, angst, fluff, mingyus a bit of an airhead and an ass, reader has a hard time managing her feelings, lots of frustrated tears, one sided pining, user toruro x minghao make an appearance, swearing, there's another woman (gasp,,,,,but shes cool so), Nayeon is a darling, Seungcheol is kinda annoying here but we love him, smut, making out, breast play, fingering (f. receiving), p in v sex (protected + unprotected), oral (f. receiving) uhhhh i think that's it lmk tho

[A/N]: Part 2 !! shit goes down in this one so be prepared ig lmao. thank you for the love on part 1, i hope you enjoy the finale too hehe

For the third time this week, you wish you could squeeze your brother’s brains with your own two hands and watch it explode like a grape without legal repercussions. Or parental ones. 

You slam your phone down on the counter after you end your conversation with him, frustrated as you watch the empty shelf where you left your dinner for today in the fridge last night, and the other green box that was actually your brothers. Refusing to eat the dry PB&J he usually packs for himself, you slam the fridge door shut, trudging out the door to leave for work, thoroughly annoyed at the prospect of needing to eat out. 

It’s gone forgotten for most of the day, that is until the clock hits eight and you feel your stomach grumble, immediately putting you in a sour mood as you remember you couldn’t enjoy your pasta because your brother was enjoying your pasta. You only had another hour left, supposing you could wait till you get home to make dinner yourself, not feeling the burger joint across the street in the slightest. Eating a moonpie to satiate yourself for the time being, you go back to stocking the shelves for the new LP shipment, making a vague mental note to ask Mingyu if Jia liked the gift he picked out a couple weeks ago. 

Your opportunity arises almost automatically as you walk over to greet whoever came in, abandoning the opened box of bubble wrapped LPs as you hear the bell chime softly at the front of the store.  

Mingyu was here (again), hands occupied with a bag, looking relieved to find you emerging from the shelves. 

“Oh, you’re here. I was afraid you left already,” he says, smiling slightly. 

“Would’ve been closed if I did.” You nudge your head towards the clearly unlocked door, donning the neon open sign. 

He looks a little dumb, turning to look at the door. “Oh. Right.”

You can’t help but smile a little. “Caught me at a good time though, I was just about to start wrapping up here.” 

He suddenly looks like he’s reminded of what he’s come here for, placing the bag on the desk next to him. “Seok told me to drop this off for you, he said it’s food.” 

Snorting, you take a look at the inside to find takeout from your favourite pasta place, which also happens to be your most expensive favourite pasta place. Seokmin felt bad enough to spend extra dollars on your dinner tonight, you guessed you could forgive him. 

You sigh as you speak. “And you strike as his errand boy yet again, sorry he’s been making you do all this.” 

“Did he piss you off?” Mingyu asks.

“Hm? He’s been pissing me off all week, this is him trying to get on my good side before I spit in his coffee.” 

He laughs at that, a toothy smile that has your stomach lurching. The flashback was brief but vivid all the same, his grin triggering a long forgotten memory. You could almost see the black studs in his ears again, his bangs falling in chunks on his forehead, his face turning into the boyish sixteen year old recollection on your kitchen counter, drinking cans of Monster and helping you lie to your mom. 

“Explains why he was ready to drop that much on a bowl of pasta.” 

“Hey, it’s good.” 

“I don’t doubt it.” He grins, “I’m gonna leave your pasta in your loving embrace, I have to feed my car now. Been putting it off till payday.”

“Oh, right. Thanks for dropping this off though, appreciate it.” You offer him a tight lipped smile. One that he returns, canines almost glinting in the light (but that’s just you). 

“No worries, I’ll see ya around.” You don’t remember what you were meant to ask him until he’s long jingled the glass door shut, walking to his parked car. You supposed it could wait, Jia would’ve liked anything he got her. You could ask him later, not wanting to have him turn around to answer the obvious question. 

The opportunity does not arise as easily as it did this time, a couple weeks passing in relative uneventful indifference, slow days at the store and nights in seven days a week. You were starting to wish you’d taken summer classes while you were stuck here anyway, the mundane days pushing you to believe you’d rather be busy than inexplicably bored. It’s not until your brother has a near mental breakdown from only having a sister as his main recreational contact that there’s a change. 

Mingyu sits on your couches in the dark, useless blanket thrown over his torso as both of his sock clad feet hang out in the air. To be fair, nobody’s looking at anybody as the eyes remain on yet another unnecessary explosion on the screen. You vaguely wonder how the ship hasn’t sunk yet. 

“What the fuck do you mean he’s been alive this whole time?” Seokmin utters, voice thick with the entire stick of butter he stuck into his bowl of popcorn. 

“Who funded this?” Mingyu mumbles from the other end, a deep frown etched on his face. 

“The people who funded the other three monstrosities.” You roll your eyes, inching your way into a sitting position, the ache making its way into the crick of your neck. 

“There’s more?!” The prospect had Mingyu hurtling into a sitting position, but not without his own set of winces as he feels the bones cracking and muscles aching. His hair is a mess, his hoodie nearly backwards, and you can’t help but laugh at the mildly confused and bewildered expression he has on. 

“Yeah, you wanna watch those too?” you ask through giggles.

Glancing at the final pub scene that’s playing on the TV, he's quick to mumble, “Fuck, no.” 

“I haven’t watched a real shitty movie in a while.” Seokmin groans as it’s his turn to stretch. “This was fun. Hollywood’s back.” 

Both you and Mingyu pointedly ignore his statement, your own mind debating whether you wanted to watch another movie. It’s not until you look up to see Mingyu doing something on his phone that you remember what you wanted to ask him. 

“Hey, Mingyu, did — Seokmin!” Your brother’s decided to begin his aerial stretches, touching his toes and cracking his back. You shift your head wildly to get a gap through his restless movements, eventually giving up finding Mingyu. He could hear you. “Did you – ugh – did you get to give Jia her present?” 

You aren’t sure what it is, but the way the question has Seok landing on his heels mid tip toe stretch and how Mingyu’s eyebrows shoot up, you don’t doubt you’ve touched on something sensitive. There’s a part of you that wonders if it’s too late to take it back when both boys make eye contact with each other, but your brother beats you to it. 

“I, uh…forgot to tell her,” he lowtones. 

You look to your brother and then to Mingyu. 

“We broke up.”

Oh.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Mingyu smiles a little awkwardly, and Seok makes a strangled sound that may have been a laugh of his own. Or a cough, you aren’t too sure. “But…she did like the present, when I gave it to her anyway.”

“Oh, that’s…that’s good,” you manage, not knowing what to say. “Sorry that happened though…sucks.” 

“She ended it–” that has your own brows shooting up in disbelief. Kim Mingyu got dumped? “–over the phone, she decided she wanted to stay home for a while to figure out what she wanted to do. Uni wasn’t cutting it for her here…” 

“I mean, good for her, I guess. Hope you’re doing okay, though.”

He blows air out of his cheeks, scratching his neck. “I mean, we’re fine. Ended it on good terms.” 

Seokmin’s still standing awkwardly staring at the still running ending credits for something to do. “Should we get food?” 

“I don’t know, are you hungry?” Mingyu asks.

“How is the heartburn not getting to you yet? You basically emptied the country’s dairy reserves in a single popcorn serving,” you grumble. 

“Don’t underestimate my ingestional abilities,” he retorts.

Mingyu stares for a moment. “Aren’t you lactose intoletrant or something?”

Seokmin turns to him, mouth open as he points his finger, “You know, I might be.” 

“No you aren’t, if you were lactose intolerant then I’d be lactose intolerant,” you shoot. 

“Explain the empty can of air freshener in the bathroom after queso and chips?” 

“Have you considered during queso and chips that queso is a dip and not an optional beverage?” 

Mingyu’s cutting between you two before you can go on with your bickering, afraid he’d have to physically peel you off of each other if it goes on, “Let’s just go to a drive thru, you can get your lactose or…non lactose options however you like.” 

That’s how you’re shoved into the backseat of Mingyu’s car, Seokmin fiddling with the GPS to find the nearest McDonalds. 

“How do you not know where the nearest McDonald’s is, you live here,” Mingyu hisses as he takes his fourth right turn in a row.

“We always just order in, who sits in a car and goes to McDonalds.”

“Us apparently,” you lowtone to Mingyu from the back, picking at a crusty flower that you found in between the seats. They ignore you. 

“Okay, I think it’s this one. Dude, get a new GPS, this one responds after fifty years, of course it’s gonna take this long.” 

Their own bickering is starting to zone out into a buzz in your ears as you stare at a patch of leather behind Mingyu’s seat. You vaguely considered that you’re falling asleep. 

The streetlight has other plans, however, when you sense something glinting in the sudden light underneath the seat. Your interest is piqued, moving forward to see what it was. Mingyu senses you shifting and asks you what you’re doing. 

You don’t answer him as you shuffle around to catch sight of it again. And then you see it, a tiny necklace on the slightly dirty mat, a circle charm with a single ‘J’ in the center. You aren’t sure why you froze at the sight, the gold glinting prettily even in the dark. Leaving it there, you emerge from under the seat, trying to seem nonchalant. 

“Nothing. Thought I saw something.”

Mingyu’s common occurrence in the bookstore is starting to concern you, never catching him as the type to read something other than the occasional bad riddles on the back of a cereal box. You stand corrected however, as you find yourself trying to find a hardcover for him on the computer system, mumbling incoherently.

“Never knew you read.” 

“Well, now you do. This one’s really good though, you should read it too.” He notes, motioning towards the paperback version he brought with him for the book he’s finding. 

You snort at his suggestion. “Have you realised this is one of the most popular books in its genre right now? Hard to find someone who hasn’t read it.”

He frowns at the revelation, “Oh. None of my friends read it.”

Seokmin hasn’t opened a book for recreational purposes since he was twelve. As for his other friends…they didn’t exactly seem like the smart type either. You get up to move to the shelf the computer’s indicated, trying to walk off your annoyance at a particular memory before it begins to show. Mingyu follows you in your pursuit to find his book, skimming the shelves himself as he strolled behind you. 

“Oh, right, how’s that exhibition thing going? Forgot to ask about it,” you ask as you spot the box of the hardcovers at the top of the shelf. You grab the ladder that rests near the wall as he answers.

“It’s going pretty good, nearly done. I just need to send the final pieces over – what’re you doing?” 

You grunt as you begin to climb up the metal ladder, trying to get to the box. “Getting your book, genius.”

“Wait–” He moves to grab the ladder at the base as he watches you step higher. “Get down! I’ll go up instead.” 

“You get cold feet at the bottom of an escalator, be serious, Mingyu,” you grunt as you pull the box towards yourself, the ladder shaking with the force it takes, and it has Mingyu gripping the metal tighter. You pull the familiar cover out before closing the box back up. “There.”

“Why would you keep supposed bestsellers there, isn’t this like, in demand?” He grumbles as he continues to hold the ladder as you climb back down. 

“Ran out. Need to restock them at the front, but I’ll do that tomorrow.” You huff as you jump the last step, earning a loud yelp from Mingyu. 

“Chill out,” you chuckle as he puts the ladder away. “Okay, do you want me to look at anything else for you?”

“What would you recommend for my next imaginary adventure?” he asks as he picks out a random book from the shelf, trying to find the blurb. 

“Not that one.” You scrunch your nose at the sight.

“This one I know is popular. What’s wrong with it?” He chuckles as he puts it back.

“Don’t believe everything you see on the internet,” you call out as you walk back to the front.

“And believe you instead?” 

Oh, you wish.

Picking up your current read from the front of the store, you wait for him to reach the end of the opening where you stand to hand it to him. 

“You can decide that for yourself. Haven’t finished it yet, but it looks super promising. Try it out if you want.” 

He barely looks over the glistening title before handing it back to you, and you nearly assume he didn’t want it. 

“Ring both of them up,” he says, and then with a pause he continues, “And anything else you think is good too, I don’t really care.” 

Deciding you’d test the waters with this first recommendation, you only cash him in for two. He doesn’t question it as you do your job behind the desk, making casual conversation as he waits for you to find the right barcode. 

“How far are you with that one?” 

“The one I gave you? Just touched chapter 20, I think.” 

He only hums in response as he pays, grabbing the bag that you push towards him. 

“Let me know how you like it,” you comment before he begins to turn to leave. 

“‘Course.” He grins, and you can't help but grin right back. He leaves you in the store with a slight heat coming up to your cheeks, and a wad of gum in your mouth to keep your stomach in check. 

By the time the next day rolls around, it’s been nearly 24 hours before you hear from him again, his contact seemingly only ever gracing you within the walls of the bookstore – except he isn’t physically here. Mingyu texts you, and you nearly fall out of your chair at the sight of his name on your phone. 

It’s near embarrassing how quickly you pick up your phone, passcode going wrong once, twice, thrice…you decide it’s the top five worst times your phone’s refused face ID. You’re slamming your fingers onto the screen harder than you should, watching the warp in the pixels at the pressure. By the time it does open its secrets for you, the annoyance has settled. Not at him though. 

[Mingyu]: hey [Mingyu]: i got to chap 20  [You]: what [You]: how [Mingyu]: started reading when i got home [Mingyu]: and then i got to 20 [Mingyu]: i think i pulled an all nighter [You]: you think? [You]: was it that good [Mingyu]: couldnt put it down [Mingyu]: i wanna talk about it but my eyes are closing  [You]: you know where to find me when you wake up

The typing ellipses don’t pop up after that, and you assume for the better that he’s succumbed to his afternoon drowsiness. If he was serious about that all nighter (which you don’t doubt, no way he could’ve plowed through twenty chapters and gotten any sleep), you assume he’ll be knocked out for at least the rest of the afternoon. 

Smiling to yourself at the thought of him wanting to text you about your matching achievements (and actively pushing your mind away from the blessed image of a napping Mingyu), you find yourself scrolling up the conversation, trying to remember the last time Mingyu had texted. That was easy to find out as the short scroll past the sparing details from your photography adventures landed you straight into late last year, a sparse conversation regarding your brother’s whereabouts when he wouldn’t answer his phone. 

You remembered the conversation. As mundane and ordinary as it was, it was difficult to forget the way your hands were shaking as you typed your one word replies, how your breathing was coming out uneven at a mere text back. You could argue there was less of that this time round, proud of yourself for learning to control your emotions better. 

There’s a train of thought that leads you to every recent interaction you’ve had with him. The conversations where you could look him in the eye, your relative indifference when he would show up unannounced, the disappearance of the wad of emotions in your stomach at the mere mention of his name. 

The latter may be slightly untrue, but you can't help but note how the ounces of fear within the concoction is gone. You were never quite sure what it was that you were so afraid of, perhaps the fateful night at Seungcheol’s party had answered that question for you, but still. 

“Seok’s not the type to beat me up if I dated his sister. And besides…” He sighs, halting his words.

“Besides what?” Somebody chimes in.

“I’m not interested in going after someone who’s chased my tail for the past fifteen years.”

Despite telling yourself it was the alcohol talking, maybe even a couple puffs of whatever — the mild disappointment remains. Thinking about the weeks following that, the moping and the hurt, you almost don’t blame Mika for acting the way that she did. 

Your brother had always been oblivious to all the frolicking in your heart that would ignite as Mingyu would enter the room, and for over a decade at that. And yet, it was during those weeks that he had noticed you acting like you had been dumped, asking you what on earth was wrong with you. 

“Did somebody say something to you?” he asks.

“Huh?” you frown, annoyed at the way he's planted himself directly in front of the cabinet that held your beloved moonpies. 

“You’re acting like you’ve been rejected by the love of your life. Nayeon’s not telling me anything and you’re being avoidant, what is up with you?” He huffs, hands on his hips. 

Oh, if only he knew how right he was. But you weren’t upset because the love of your life rejected you (anymore, at least), you were upset because he was a public asshole. 

It takes more coaxing from him to get you to start talking. It’s easier when he brings out the big guns: “D’you want me to tell mom?”

You tell him a little, not naming any names, much to his dismay. “Some guy was an ass, something about me being too easy or whatever.” 

“You’re upset because some drunk dude decided to run his mouth?” He scrunches his nose at the thought. “Ignore him, he’s stupid.”

“Thanks for the help, I’m cured,” you deadpan, pushing him aside to get to the gold inside the cabinets. 

“I could get Mingyu to help me beat him up, I just need a name.”

Oh. You briefly wonder how he'd feel if he had to beat up his best friend.

More than his attempts to sound like a cool older brother, the image of Mingyu beating himself up brings you more amusement than anything else. You crack a smile at the thought. 

That was months ago, yet you can’t seem to forget the hurt. Trying to shake off where your thoughts were taking you, you get up to take a walk around the store for something to do, fixing microscopic displacements on the shelves and wondering if you should restock something, only to realize you’d already done that when you came in, not wanting to whip out the ladder again to restock the ones you'd just landed from.  

Landing inevitably back behind the counter, you instinctively reach for the book wedged beside the computer. Your outstretched hand stops midway, thinking about how Mingyu’s reached as far as you in the story quite literally overnight. Retracting your hand, you decide you’d wait. 

The bell chimes signaling a customer, and you find yourself grateful for the distraction.

It’s nearing 8:30 when you decide you should close early. It was slower than usual today, the few walk-ins leaving without purchases too hefty, rendering you bored in your seat for most of the day. You’re locking the drawers of the main desk when Mingyu walks in with the familiar tune of the bell chiming, soft smile as he greets you quietly. 

“How was your nap?” you ask, trying not to giggle at his still dazed expression. 

“Pretty good, didn’t wanna wake up though.” His voice remains relatively coarse, and you don’t miss the light indent on his left cheek. It’s endearing, enough to have you wishing you could cup his face in a loving squish. 

But you don’t. 

“You don’t say,” you comment. Pointing at your own cheek as you continue, “You sure you don’t wanna take the night off too?” 

“Fuck,” he whispers as he looks down to fumble for his phone to see for himself in his front camera. The puffiness hasn’t gone away entirely, evident when he’s frowning and looking downwards, and the urge to squeeze comes hurtling back. 

“Did you drive like this?” 

“Uh, no, I walked.”

“Walked?” You try to comprehend if that was even more dangerous. He only nods. “Why?”

“Wanted to see you.”

It takes effort to not clutch your chest at the way your heart leaps. Kim Mingyu, you bastard. 

“Had to talk about the book.”

Your voice comes out a little more breathless than you’d like, but you hope his drowsiness skips over it. “You could’ve texted.”

He pauses as he mulls it over. “I mean, yeah…I don’t know. I just put my shoes on and came here.”

You decide you’d spare him the brain power and continue your remaining closing duties, talking to him as you move around the store. 

“We can take my car to my place, better than getting distracted here.”

He only nods in response. “Do you want any help?” 

“Nope, just need to turn off the lights and lock the doors. Let me grab my bag.” 

By the time you’re home, an XL pizza and drinks in your arms to satiate Mingyu’s post nap ravenous tendencies, you drop down on the couch with a huff. Seokmin hears the ruckus and appears from his room, not wasting time to break on the pizza with Mingyu as you leave to freshen up. By the time you settle with your own slice it seems as though Mingyu has roused himself significantly more than before. 

“Okay,” you huff as you land on the soft cushioning, “What did you think about the book?”

“Hard to believe this is her first book, it’s really good.” 

“Her world building is amazing, some of the best I’ve read.”

Your back and forth discussion grows increasingly passionate, forgetting the fact that your brother was also right there excluded from the conversation. His head shifts back and forth as the both of you converse, utterly lost. It would’ve been funny, except neither if you were actually looking at him. 

He manages to get a word in as one of you pauses for breath. “Since when do you read?” 

Mingyu gapes at the question, seemingly trying to find an answer. “Recently.”

“Why?” 

“What do you mean why? I just wanted to start reading,” he scoffs in a manner that could be described as exaggerated. If he’s trying to throw Seokmin off his scent, he’s succeeded, as he watches Seokmin get up and announce that he has work to do. That leaves the both of you alone. 

The conversation takes you into the late hours of the night, Mingyu’s prior nap releasing him from the chains of reasonable sleeping hours as he remains wide awake despite the 3 AM time on the dial. You manage to keep up with him, even when he follows you to the kitchen to brew a coffee. 

“Do you usually work this hard just to make coffee?” he asks as he watches you discard the used espresso puck. 

“We have a bottle of the instant stuff here somewhere for when I’m lazy,” you explain as you pour the fresh shots into the prepped ice and milk. “Doesn’t taste the same though.” 

“Coffee is coffee,” he says as he stirs the drink you push towards him. 

“Quite the contrary. Besides, the instant stuff fucks with my stomach, I’d rather not.” You take a sip of your coffee, glancing at the sink. “Will say, hate everything I have to wash afterwards.”

“I’ll do ‘em later, gotta pay you back for all the manual labour that went into this thing,” he refers to the latte he’s sipping on currently. 

“The appreciation is enough. We can make Seok do them in the morning for being a loser and going to bed early,” you snort. Mingyu laughs at that, the image of Seokmin doing dishes while the both of you sleep in. 

“You sure you don’t wanna call it a night?” he asks you as you place yourself on the kitchen counter. 

“I’m having fun, Mingyu, seriously. I’m off tomorrow too, I don’t have to wake up,” you reassure for the nth time. 

He doesn’t reply, only stares up at you from his leaned position. He’s chewing on his lip, and you find yourself unconsciously chewing at your own, the already raw skin stinging at the abrasion. Mingyu’s hands come up to your face slowly, like he knew it was hurting as he pulls your bottom lip to release it with his thumb. 

“You’re gonna bleed,” he whispers. His hand that grasps your chin doesn’t move, rough thumb continuing to graze at your lip lightly. 

“You never stopped picking at your lips, did you?” he wonders out loud, eyes trained on your mouth. 

Your own hand comes to lightly grip at his forearm. He remembers your habit, picking at the skin of your lips since near middle school, getting yelled at when you had to excuse yourself from the dinner table when they would bleed. 

“Old habits die hard.” Your voice is thick despite the gulp you had to take before opening your mouth. 

It was true, probably too much as you continue to look at his near perfect face. The oldest habit, the hardest to die. 

Mingyu drops his hand, landing it in your lap, your own hand still gripping his forearm. You aren’t sure what’s going through you as you trail your hand up further, to his wrists, to the dip of his palm, landing on his fingers. You grip his hand, tight this time. 

“I’m gonna jump,” you whisper, and you feel his grip tighten around yours as he braces to support you off the counter. 

You face him in silence, contemplating, “It’s hot in here, let’s go back out.”

He watches as you pick your cup off the counter and leave, not waiting for him to follow you. He finds himself trying to take deeper breaths, stalling, but not for long as he joins you back on the couch.

It probably came as a shock to both of you the first time Mingyu announced his leave much earlier in the night, when you stopped him, asking him to stay. It was silent for a few sparing moments as you both absorbed what had come out of your mouth, trying to make sense of it. You found yourself needing to coax him a little more to convince him he wasn’t overstaying his visit, that you were having fun. He sits back down, warning you that this was going to be a long night. 

You don’t think you could ever forget the absolute somersault your stomach performed, the after effects leaving you still as a plank. 

It was a long night indeed. And yet, when you found your eyes closing after a fight, much later on the couch with a large blanket shared between the both of you, Mingyu watches you doze off while leaning on the couch facing him, wishing the night was longer. 

If you were awake, you probably would’ve found yourself agreeing.

There’s a lot Mingyu has to learn about himself. He’s reminded of the fact nearly everyday. Especially right now as Seokmin runs his mouth sitting with him at a secluded booth in some bar. 

They had company, a couple guys joining them for dinner before leaving not too long after. That left him and a slightly tipsy Seokmin alone, who’s currently munching on a platter of crackers in front of him. He was bright enough, the energy from the others keeping him going as they played their drinking games and ate their obnoxious amounts of food. It was alot more somber with only the both of them left, his mood deflating as their friends slowly dwindled in number. That wasn’t about to stop him from ordering another beer though. 

“Summer’s so boring,” he grumbles in dejection, flicking a stray crumb off the table. 

“You chose to stay here,” Mingyu replies. 

Seokmin doesn’t answer him, but continues to look like a kicked puppy, a slight pout forming on his face. 

Mingyu fights the urge to scoff, “You can’t possibly be this upset about summer being depressing.” 

“It’s not about that.” 

Mingyu takes a swig of his own drink before sighing loudly, “What’s this about then?”

Seokmin says your name, and Mingyu is suddenly very interested. “She just seems to be doing a lot better since she started working at the bookstore.”

“Better?”

 “She told me about this guy a couple months ago.”

Mingyu’s trying really hard to not look visibly deflated, not that Seokmin would notice considering his state, but he attempts to sound nonchalant regardless. “Do we know him?”

“I – no, that’s not,” he huffs in exasperation, “She said she overheard him, basically calling her easy.”

“Easy?”

“I don’t know, something about her chasing his tail or whatever, she won’t tell me who it is. She hadn’t been doing too great recently and I’m pretty sure it was because of him.” 

It is dawning on Mingyu, embarrassingly slowly, that the guy Seokmin is talking about — may be him. 

His voice is hoarse, a little frantic. “And she’s doing better, you said?”

“Oh yeah, the bookstore’s been amazing for her. Not sure how though, ‘cause she just sits there doing nothing for hours.”

He can’t bring himself to meet Seokmin’s eyes, remnants of his memories flurrying around in his brain in an attempt to figure out what other bullshit he had spewed that day. He was sure you weren’t there, you couldn’t be.

“Maybe doing nothing was what she needed.” Mingyu’s reply is whatever came to him off the top of his head, mind still racing. 

“Hm, I guess. I was trying to get her to tell me, we could’ve chopped his dick off together,” Seokmin grumbles.

Mingyu winces slightly, eyes tight shut as he pinches the bridge of his nose. There’s a protective hand that subconsciously reaches his crotch area. “Yeah, yeah totally.” 

“Fucker got let off easy, he should be happy she’s doing good.” Seokmin continues to ramble, voice getting increasingly louder. 

“Yeah…”

“She’s not easy. My sister isn’t easy at all! Running after his tail, my ass! She doesn’t need some motherfucker with bad hair to be running his mouth, drunk as a bitch.” He stabs a single chopstick into the spare piece of meat on his plate, and the force has Mingyu flinching slightly. 

“How do you know he has bad hair?” Mingyu continues to stare at the impaled piece of beef that Seokmin brings to his mouth. 

“I don’t need to know a motherfucker to know he uses shitty hair gel.” 

Mingyu may try to run his hair gel past Seokmin at some point. But right now, he’s only trying to make it out of the bar with his sex organs intact.

“Hey, we’re past this, remember? She’s doing great right now and that’s all that matters.” Mingyu sounds overly flustered, but he can���t bring himself to care as he attempts to reign in an angry Seokmin. They were garnering looks, and the last thing he wanted was to get kicked out before they had paid. 

Seokmin is still huffing and puffing, but significantly less so as he finds reason in Mingyu’s words. “I’m gonna find out who he is.”

“You hate living in peace.”

“My sister’s hasn’t had any peace because of this dickwad, I’m—” 

“OKAY! Okay, got it. We’ll figure that out when you’re sober.” Mingyu rises from his own seat as he finds Seokmin lifting his own butt off his chair in a near war cry. 

He manages to fend him off, waving for the bill before he has to pull him back from aimlessly marching to whoever’s house he had in mind. He calms down as they wait for the check, finishing the remaining scraps on the table in silence. 

Seokmin seems nearly back to his regular self after a few minutes, forehead creases smoothing over during his cool down time. He speaks, except this time it’s in a more socially acceptable manner.

“Hey, I’ve been noticing, you and her have been getting pretty close lately. I don’t know, it’s just, I woke up and saw both on the couch and —” 

“Here’s your bill!” The waiter cuts him mid sentence, placing the check on the table. 

Mingyu knew what Seokmin was getting to, and he was thanking every star in the galaxy for bringing the waiter into their lives at that exact moment. He’s quick to fuss over the glossy piece of paper, humming and making comments at their purchases to fill in any silent opportunities to let Seokmin continue. Mingyu’s slips his card in the wallet.

“It’s on me,” he announces as he flashes a quick smile to the waiter. “You can cut a ten for yourself.” 

“Wait, what — let’s split, what’s wrong with you?” Seokmin jolts up as registers what’s happening a little too late. 

“It’s fine, you can pay for the next one.” He says as he shifts around the table to look for his phone. “You should probably go to bed too, it’s getting pretty late. Sleep off the beer and whatnot.” 

Seokmin is left speechless as Mingyu gets up, grabbing his stuff. 

“Wait, your card—” Seokmin starts. 

“Is here,” Mingyu spews a quick ‘thanks’ to the waiter, waving his card in front of Seokmin so he’d finally stand the fuck up.

“Do I need to drag you out of that chair, let’s go!” he says, grabbing Seok by the arm to lift him off his seat. It was nearly funny how he couldn’t get him to stay within the vicinity mere minutes ago and now is begging for him to get up. 

By the time Mingyu’s jamming Seok’s key into your apartment, he’s tired of his endless rambling. He can only appreciate his drunk brain for not bringing up the last question he tried asking him. He’s opening the door, urging Seokmin to walk inside, slapping him awake from his nap against the wall.

Mingyu deems it best to physically put him in bed for the furnitures’ sake, pushing him in front to lead him to his room. Mingyu’s spent by the time he’s done and Seokmin is snoring, his back cracking from the hunched position he’s kept from tucking him in and taking his shoes and jacket off. 

He tiptoes out (despite knowing it’d take a marching band to wake him up at that point), closing the door as quietly as possible. 

“What’re you doing here?” 

Mingyu nearly jumps out of his skin, landing a mile as he hears your voice in the dark hallway, hand coming up to his heart. “Jeez— announce yourself, would you?” 

“In my own house?” you raise an eyebrow. 

“Just—” he waves you off as he comes round, standing straight. “I was putting Seok to bed.”

You inhale sharply. “Did you drink?”

“Me? No, but he’s knocked out right now, he’s probably gonna need a pill in the morning,” he replies. 

“Hm, I’ll see to it in the morning, or whenever it is that he wakes up.” 

“Yeah.” Mingyu is standing awkwardly in front of you in the dark hall, not having anything else to say. “I’ll get going now.”

“Oh, right, yeah. Get some sleep,” you say as you let him move past you. 

“You too, don’t know why you’re awake,” he chuckles quietly. 

“Couldn’t sleep, I’ll go to bed now though.”

The awkwardness is painful, Mingyu can feel it in his chest. But what he’s feeling more is the way you look in your night shirt now that you’re in the light of the living room, legs shown farther up than you’d usually let them go. He wonders if you're wearing shorts underneath, but slaps himself out of it when he realises he’s been silent for too long. 

“Uh yeah, I’ll go now. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Mingyu.”

Mingyu replays the last five minutes in his head the entire car ride home, when he’s changing out of his clothes, when he’s brushing his teeth, when he crawls under the warm covers to finally call it a night. Mingyu thinks about what he said all those months ago at a dumb party, how he’s hurt you more than he thought he had. There’s an ache that plunges into him, the thought of you going through that because of him while he stayed blissfully unaware. 

He doesn’t know what he’s gonna do to make it up to you, but right now, he’s happy. Happier than he’s been in a while, falling asleep to the thought of you. 

“Goodnight, Mingyu.”

You, on the other hand, are far from happy as you find yourself in yet another car related predicament. 

Having to run to work in the middle of July is never a preferred option, yet you find yourself needing to do it anyway when you walk out to your engine refusing to start. 

You really needed a new car. 

Abandoning the hunk of what was turning out to be just expensive scrap metal, you rile other options out in your head. 

Seokmin was long gone with his car. The bus was gonna take too long. No way in hell were you about to overpay a taxi to take you somewhere that was essentially just a 15 minute walk (read as run). 

So you find yourself slinging your bag as a crossbody, thanking the heavens that you at least didn’t need to change your shoes. You pray for your white sneakers as you run across town, blurting apologies to passerbys that would gape at your hurried form. As apologetic as you were, it didn’t compare to how sorry you felt for yourself, the heat pricking your skin in an agitated rise anytime you’d slow down. 

The AC is near heavenly as you gasp walking into the bookstore, red faced and hair sticking to your forehead. 

“Sorry,” you gulp frantically. “Sorry, I’m late.”

“Oh god,” you hear your boss comment as she sees you walk in. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I just need a minute. Car broke down.”

She ushers you in front of the AC, waiting for you to collect yourself before taking her leave. 

“I think I’m okay now, sorry about that.” Your chuckle comes out a little choked. So much for being convincing. 

“You really should get a new car. I have a friend who’s daughter is selling hers, do you want me to ask them for you?” She’s patting your shoulder as she talks to you, and you recognize her courage to look past the sweat that’s accumulated there.  

“That’d be great actually, thank you.” 

Your second blow of the day comes right after you’ve finally gotten rid of the buckets of sweat on your body, seating yourself behind your desk to do some digging of your own.

You immediately wish you hadn’t as soon as you open the first second hand market site, the price tags landing you somewhere between never happening and impossible. Groaning, you place your head in your hands as you try to think of what to do. You pray your boss would come back with a quote that isn’t as outrageous as everything else you’ve cursed your eyes upon, seeing as that seemed the only viable option for you. 

Closing the windows off your computer, you decide this was a headache for another time. You reach for your bag to rummage through it, only to find yourself in your third predicament of the day. 

You had forgotten your book. 

It shouldn’t have been a worry, considering you were in a bookstore and had access to about 56 more of the same edition that you could borrow for the day. Except it was a worry, because your copy had been religiously tabbed and annotated as you would read, not a single thought left to be forgotten in your head as they would spring up. You can almost see the pink cover sitting on your desk and you nearly begin to cry. 

You wonder if you could break your ‘one book at a time’ streak for the sake of it, picking up another one off the shelf to start. The thought nearly makes you gag, the anxiety of losing interest in your current one leading you to sit aimlessly at your desk for the rest of the day. 

What’s even more anxiety inducing to you, however, was the promise you’d made with Mingyu the week prior, to be finished with the book by the end of today so you could finally decide whether the end was worth it or not. The thought has you nearly picking up a copy off the shelf anyway, annotations be damned. Force of habit, however, forbids you as you are shunned by yourself to play solitaire for the rest of the day. 

Things seem to look up for you though, as you find yourself reading a text from Mingyu nearly halfway through your day. 

You hadn’t spoken to Mingyu at all for the entire week, caving when you found an excuse to finally talk to him to ask where he’d left off on the book. It was even longer before that, reaching the near three week mark where you were virtually zero contact.  

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t bother you, his sudden absence raising a mild panic within you as your mind raced with the possibilities. 

Was he uncomfortable with you? 

Was he avoiding you? 

Were you less low key than you thought? Was he catching on to how you still weren’t over him? 

The wilder thoughts seemed to be laid to rest when you couldn’t take it anymore, texting under the guise of your mutual book topic. Your brain still couldn’t handle it, picking up minuscule details in his texting behavior. Perhaps his replies were choppy, perhaps they were shorter than usual, but it was enough to give your mind the rest it needed regardless of whatever the facts were. 

Needless to say, you were more than happy to receive a text from him first after weeks, immediately replying. 

[Mingyu]: hey  [Mingyu]: are you at work today?  [You]: yeah  [You]: i get off at 10 tho  [Mingyu]: can i see you today? 

You try to contain the growing flurry of excitement as you type. It was easier to stay casual over text, you find yourself appreciating. 

[You]: course [You]: are you coming to the store?  [Mingyu]: i’ll meet you at your place when you get off  [You]: okay!!! [You]: see you then 

There’s a ghost of a smile on your face as you switch to playing computer chess in celebration. Your day was going horribly, but perhaps it was to balance out the happiness you were feeling at the thought of seeing Mingyu in person after nearly a month. 

Were you being dramatic? Possibly. But you figured you’d been left waiting long enough. You let yourself have a spring in your step for the rest of the day, closing up nearly an hour early as you practically skipped back home, enjoying the significantly better nightly weather. Maybe you were abusing your employee privileges, but you couldn’t take the anticipation anymore. 

Humming to yourself, you're hopping into the shower as soon as you get home, wanting to freshen up as quickly as possible before he gets here. It was near heaven’s plan the way the day is unfolding for you. Perhaps the universe knew you needed the time to unwind today, bringing Mingyu to you despite the near four week gap. 

Grabbing your pens and your book, you settle on the kitchen counter to do something you’d been looking forward to all day, nearly giddy that Mingyu would be joining you to wind down with you soon enough. You’re invested by the time the doorbell rings, a simultaneous text from Mingyu, confirming that he was at the door. 

Opening the front door is probably the easiest thing you’ve done all day, grin at the ready as you greet him. 

“Hey,” you breathe out at the sight of him. 

“Hi,” he replies, slipping inside as you give him space to take off his shoes. 

Leading him into the kitchen, you comment lightheartedly, “Nice to see you’re still alive.” 

He chuckles slightly at that, “Yeah…sorry about that. I’ve been pretty caught up with…stuff.”

“The exhibition? Weren’t you nearly done with that?” you question as you pass him a glass of water. 

He takes a sip before setting it down again, both hands holding the cup on the counter. “It wasn’t that, I’ve been done for a while. Just waiting.” 

“It’s next week, isn’t it?” 

He hums in response, taking another minuscule sip of water.  

“What was it that was keeping you this occupied for so long then?” you continue with a slight snort, trying not to over analyze his slightly…off putting behavior. 

“Uh,” he starts, “Is Seokmin home?” 

“Seokmin?” you frown, confused. Was he here to see your brother? “He’s out. I thought you knew.”

“Yeah, I know. Just confirming.” 

“Oh.” You sit down on your own chair at the counter, trying to make sense of his mood. 

“Mingyu, are you okay—”

“I need to talk to you.” 

“O-okay.” 

It’s silent. Painfully so. 

“I don’t know how else to bring this up so I’m just gonna cut to the chase.” 

There’s no reply from your end as you simply stare at him in anticipation, wondering what on earth had him looking this serious as he faces you in his seat. 

“I know I’ve done a lot to hurt you. Never enough to match what you’ve felt, but I know you’ve been through the muck because of me, and it makes me feel horrible that I was the cause of something like that.” 

“Mingyu—“

“I want to apologize, before I say anything else. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. And I know an apology isn’t gonna take away what I did to you, but I just need you to know that I’m really, really sorry.”

His breathing is heavy as he talks, while yours is near nonexistent as you need to remind yourself to breathe manually. 

“I’ve done a lot of growing up in the past year. And I hate myself for making you a subject of that transition when you were the last person that deserved it. I’m happy to say that won’t happen again, because I’ve learned my lesson. For good.”

He pauses. 

“I’m not asking you to forgive me, because… because I don’t know if I’ll ever deserve it for what I’m about to say. I may be acting selfish right now but, I think you deserve to know after everything.”

“I love you. I love you so, so much it hurts. I…I’m sorry, I love you. I don’t know how else to say it but, I love you. And I might be hurting you even more with this but I swear I’m not lying. I love you.”

There’s tears now, heavy ones that drip down his face as he refuses to look back up at you, eyes screwed shut in a desperate attempt to halt the pure emotion that’s trailing down. 

You have your own wet cheeks, glossy, shaking eyes that don’t tear away from his hunched form. You’re listening. You’re listening to everything and it’s too much. 

“Mingyu,” you whisper. You give up on trying to talk as you let out a breath that sounds almost like a sob. 

It’s silent for a few more moments as you absorb everything that’s happening, mind running a hundred miles an hour yet, still as a rock. It’s too much. 

“Mingyu, I can’t believe you’re saying this to me.” Your voice is quivering, but you manage the words. “After everything. You’re standing in this very kitchen and saying this to me.”

The deja vu was overwhelming, and you’re projected back to last year when the both of you stood on these very tiles, as you poured your heart out to the man in front of you, only to be told you were an idiot to think he could ever love you like that. The words may not have been said, but the message was clear: you were not made for Kim Mingyu. 

And yet, you find yourself in front of an apologetic man, expressing his remorse. And oozing love for you, of all people. Why now? You want to scream. Where was this when you were ready to take him so willingly in your arms. 

You’re lying if you say you still don’t want to plant yourself in his hold to sob out your own wretched “I love you”’s. You wanted to go to him. To take what you’ve wanted for so, so long. 

But you can’t. You can’t do it. 

“I know,” he whispers. “I’m not asking you to do something about any of this. I’m not asking anything of you at all. I just need you to know.”

You bite back a remark, trying so hard to calm yourself down. 

“I think you should go.” Your voice breaks. “Please.”

Mingyu is gone. But his scent lingers. His cup remains on the counter, the same one he put his lips to. As he prepared to speak, and speak, and speak. 

You can’t stand to stay in the kitchen anymore. 

You were fourteen the first time Mingyu broke your heart. 

It was an accident, perhaps, considering you were willing to do absolutely anything to be around Mingyu when your brother would have him over. What you didn’t know this time, was that the both of them had company. 

Tiptoeing down the hall was easy the second you heard your brother's voice coming from the kitchen, announcing that he was getting drinks for them. The plan was simple; walk in under the guise of being annoyed at Seokmin for something and then relish when Mingyu would defend you from his inevitable rage — except this time you’d have a few extra minutes alone with him before your brother trudged back.  

Putting on the best annoyed face you could, you stalk past Seokmin’s room, immediately wishing you hadn’t. Mingyu was in your brother's room as expected, sitting on the floor, surrounded by papers with numbers and letters too complex. But he wasn’t alone. There was a girl that sat between his legs, turned over in his arms as they whisper to each other. They weren’t studying at all; the giggles and smiles were a dead giveaway. 

You halt in your tracks at the edge of the doorway in mild disbelief, brain computing the situation in front of you. They hadn’t noticed you yet, it was apparent with the way she leans into him to place her lips on his in a peck. 

There’s a yell of your name behind you as Seokmin sees you loitering around his room. You jump in surprise, not expecting him back so quickly. Your brother, too, isn’t alone, a girl of his own accompanying him with her arms full of cans, peeking over his shoulder to catch sight of your distressed form. 

“What’re you doing?”

Running was the worst thing you could do, and yet you found yourself doing just that in your cornered state. Catapulting face first into your pillows, the sobs coming before you could muffle them. It was humiliating, even more so when you feel your mother’s hand coming up to your shoulder in a stretch of comfort. 

“I yelled at him, he won’t do it again!” she attempted to reason with you, trying endlessly to get you to emerge from your cavern of comforters. 

“It’s not that!” you groan.

“What is it then? Darling, I won’t know if you won’t tell me.” 

Your mother gave up a little bit after that, and your brother had apologized for yelling at you; apologized for all the wrong reasons. You brushed him over.

There were worse things circling your mind in that moment, like the image of Mingyu in a liplock with another girl, the image of him holding her with all his limbs. 

You couldn’t imagine anything worse than that.

“What the fuck, is wrong with the both of you?” Your brother swoops in like a pesky seagull and snatches the book right out of your hands, eyes blown in exasperation. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?! Give it back!” you yell, reaching for the book that he’s placed over his head. Climbing the couch does little when he simply moves away from you. 

“Not until you tell me what’s going on between you and Mingyu.” 

“Nothing is — ugh,” you drop back onto the couch in frustration. You take a deep breath. “Nothing is going on. Now can I have my fucking book back?” 

“No, you're avoiding each other.”

“He’s your friend, why would I hang out with him?” 

“Stop dodging the question!” he spits. 

“Stop dodging.” You exclaim as you jump for the book another time. 

“Why don’t you want to go to the exhibition?” He throws the book to the corner of the room. It takes every fiber in your body to stop yourself from plucking every strand of hair off his head. 

“Seokmin!” you scream. 

“Your book’s fine. Is this about the guy you told me about?” He asks, hands grabbing you by the upper arms, forcing you to look at him. 

“No, it’s not,” you grit. 

“Why don’t you want to go to the exhibition?” he repeats, making direct eye contact. 

“Because,” you start, exhaling deeply, “I’m tired.”

“It’s an exhibition for fucks sake, an exhibition with your face plastered all over it. You go in for five minutes and you’re out. Put something on and let’s go!” 

“I don’t want to go.”

“I’m not taking no for an answer. You’ve been doing nothing but go to work and stay home, you need air.”

“I need you out of my air,” you swat his hands away, thoroughly disgruntled. 

“I’m giving you twenty minutes.” 

He was serious, you realize as he begins to pound on your door with two minutes left to spare. You decided you weren’t about to be embarrassing and show up in your sweatpants, encasing the final shreds of dignity you had left. You couldn’t imagine being asked “who?” when the face on the walls doesn’t match with the one you brought to the place, not doubting the number of fancy scouters that’d be gracing the crowd tonight.

 Opting for a plain black dress and a coverup felt enough for you, your usual makeup and matching accessories helping you feel better about the bags under your eyes your concealer couldn’t quite erase. 

Seokmin says nothing for probable fear of having you landing back on the couch, choosing to ask you a simple, “Ready?” instead.

The drive is short and silent, the remnants of you and your brother's prior argument still hanging in the air. You weren’t about to apologize to each other, but you would let the hours cool you off before you’re back to your normal selves. For now, you’re glad to step out of the stuffy car, the anticipation having you needing to breathe in an elevated sense. 

The place is more crowded than you thought it would be, men and women in fancier than necessary clothes loitering the entrance carpeting. You suddenly feel underdressed. 

Catching Mingyu’s name is easy, the display at the front doing the most to highlight the star of the night, catching sight of him is proving a little more difficult. Not that you’re trying, but Seokmin’s embarrassing neck stretches are having you restraining yourself from pulling him down by the collar. 

Walking into the display is a strange experience, for you at least. The pictures are larger than you’d thought they would be, spanning the giant walls of the gallery. Your face is huge. 

There’s a few other one’s that scatter between the portraits, beautiful all the same. You find yourself wandering as you note the plaques next to the pieces, descriptions and words from the artist; Mingyu’s words. It’s easy to begin looking at the pictures through his eyes, the meticulous scanning you’re doing proving easier for you to zone out despite the crowd. 

You’ve gone through nearly every picture, approaching the last one, the one that looked a little more important than the rest as you take in its size. The steps you take towards the plaque are halted as you hear someone calling for you. You recognize his voice, how could you not?

Mingyu is weaving through the crowd to get to you, eyes locked as he tries to make way for himself. Your mouth is open by the time he’s here, mind frantic as you try to figure out what you should say. 

Congratulations.

You’ve worked hard on this. 

This looks great.

How’ve you been?

“You’re here,” he says, simple as that. 

“I’m here,” you breathe out, a nervous smile on your face as you look down at your shoes. 

“Seok told me you were here too.” 

Your head snaps up, “You were looking for me?” 

“I mean, it’s a bit difficult with the crowd—”

“Oh,” you cut him off before you could forget. “Congratulations, by the way. The turnout looks great.”

“Uh, yeah. It’s great.” His eyes skim around the large hall.

You hate how his craning is drawing your eyes to everything else. So to say the plain black button up and slacks he’s sporting, the thin chain he wears around the unbuttoned collar. You hate how he’s put in no effort, and you hate how it makes him look even better somehow. 

“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asks after he rounds back to you. 

Your reply is drowned in your throat as somebody calls for him across the hall, pointing at a mic in their hands. 

“I have to go address everyone, you’ll be here, right?” he asks, but he once again has no chance to listen to your answer when somebody physically drags him by the elbow and yanks him away from you. You lose sight of him in the crowd of people, his face disappearing.

It gives you enough opportunity to slowly turn around to go back to your plaque reading, exhaling loudly as you walk up to the final, biggest piece on the wall. It’s labeled as the focal point of the collection. It’s a picture of you, and for some reason, you can’t remember taking it, or posing for it at all. 

You recognize the mountain top, more so the grueling trek up the place for your last shoot with him. It’s a side profile, your arms folding over the railing, face tucked into your padded arms. A single ray of light illuminates your eyes, the background soft. 

The picture was an accident. A moment that may have gone forgotten, yet one that appeared right when it was meant to. A mistake made on purpose, one that manages to carry the weight of years. A slow accession of golden rays, dawn illuminating the subject in hues indescribable, except those that describe a feeling. A feeling in turn, indescribable.

Soft. Legible. New.

You take a step back. 

And another

Then another. 

You look at the picture, the picture of you. Taken the one time you weren’t actively posing for the camera, the one time he wasn’t meant to take a picture of you. It landed here, at the seemingly deserved position of a final piece. The piece that was meant to emulate all that the artist wanted to come out of his work. 

You crane your neck up higher, the name of the collection in bold block letters right above the picture that supposedly says it all. 

THE BEGINNING

There’s a ball forming in your throat, one that's cementing itself where it stays. 

There’s noise happening in your peripherals, somebody speaking into a mic on stage. You’re not paying attention until you hear his name. 

“I’m pleased to present to you the man of the hour, mister Kim Mingyu…” 

You watch with glossy eyes as he takes the stand, clearing his throat before he begins to speak. 

You needed to leave. 

Finding Seokmin is easy, and you thank every plane of heaven that it is, considering you’d rather be caught dead than be seen red nosed and teary eyed. 

“Let’s go home.”

“Huh? Right now? He just started talking.” Seokmin argues, tearing his eyes away from the stage to gape at you, only to note the expression on your face. “Hey, what’s wrong?” 

“Seokmin, you said five minutes.” You grip his sleeve tight. “Please, either give me the keys, or I’ll get a cab.” 

He pauses for a moment, and you immediately hate yourself for making him choose between staying for his best friend or leaving for his sister. He slowly comes down to grip your hand, pulling you away. 

“Let me drop you off home.” 

You’ve calmed down a significant amount during the car ride home, managing to convince (fight) Seokmin into going back to the exhibition hall before Mingyu noticed that he was gone. You wouldn’t forgive yourself if you made him miss something as important as this just because you couldn’t control your emotions.

He hugs you at the door, tight, and you hug back just as strong, holding back the river of tears that suddenly threaten to let loose. He presses his lips to your temple, muttering a little ‘I love you’ before he leaves. He knew nothing, yet was ready to comfort you like he did.

You let yourself sob after that, as wracking and strong as they’d come. It’s freeing, to fall to your knees and simply cry like a child. You aren’t sure what it is that you’re crying about, yet you know all the same. The thought of both those things make your head begin to spin, causing another fresh wave of tears to come rushing down. 

Remnants of the day Mingyu spoke his truth to you in your own kitchen come tumbling back; the shock, the anger, the hurt, and despite everything, the love.

You loved Mingyu, you weren’t going to sit here and deny it when you were a mess of jewels on the floor with only his face at the forefront of your mind. You’re a liar if you say you don’t love him. You’re a liar if you say you’ll ever stop. 

Years and years of pining and wishing and praying, to hope that one day, Mingyu would open his eyes with the realization that he loves you the same. 

The day came. Your prayers were granted, your wishes came true; you no longer had to sit on the sidelines as an ignored constant. And yet, you found yourself wanting to be anywhere but in his presence as the prayer unfolded. 

Were you too weak to handle reciprocation? Have you gotten comfortable pining by yourself? Or was it something completely else. Were you still hurt by his words? Were you aghast at his audacity to have the courage to speak his heart to you, when you went years without doing so? 

Were you protecting yourself? Or were you actively throwing the golden chance you’d received right out the window? 

You’re tired, it’s evident with the effort it takes you to simply reach your bedroom, heels thrown somewhere in the doorway as you made the trek barefooted. Hoping your muscles would release the pent up tension at the learnt feeling of the mattress, you find yourself closing your eyes awaiting the relief. 

Still clad in your dress and makeup, you attempt to find the solace of sleep, knowing you’d feel nothing if there was nothing to perceive. The universe doesn’t seem to want to give you that luxury, your eyes wide awake despite closed lids. The thoughts aren’t showing signs of slowing down either, every part of your mind alive as you remain still as a rock on your bed. 

You aren’t sure how long you’ve been in bed, but as you hear the distinct jingle of keys in a lock, you know Seokmin is home. The door of your room is opened very quietly, and closed just as quick when he sees your form in bed seemingly asleep. 

You open your eyes for the first time in hours, the darkness remaining as you slowly sit up against the cushions. Your movements are sluggish as you stare into the abyss, brain quiet for once as you swing your bare legs over the mattress, slowly trudging down the hall to your brother's bedroom. 

Knocking slowly, you hear a slight shuffle before the door is opened, the light from inside the room illuminating the dark hall and forcing you to squint. 

“Did I wake you?” Seokmin asks, sporting formal trousers with his dinosaur pajama shirt.

“Uh, no, I was awake.”

“Why haven’t you changed yet?” 

You ignore him, cutting straight to the chase, “Can I borrow your car?” 

There’s silence for nearly three seconds before Seokmin speaks, “What on earth do you need my car for this late at night?” 

“Nayeon’s” 

“Bullshit.”

You let out a loud, loud sigh, “Will you believe it for now?” 

Your brother looks at you with an expression you can’t really pinpoint, eyes like he’s scanning into your soul. “The keys are at the door.”

You walk back to your room to grab your phone and your cover up, not bothering to change as you grab Seokmin’s keys and leave. It probably wasn’t a good idea to leave the house so late at night, but your brain seems to have activated tunnel vision as you nearly stalk towards the car. You’re pulling up to where you need to be within minutes, the empty roads leading you on near autopilot. 

By the time you’re standing in front of the door, your desire to settle this once and for all turns pungent in your head. You needed to end this one way or another, you were tired of running in circles. 

Ringing the doorbell is easy, it’s just the realization that settles during those few moments of waiting that grab you by the throat. You were really doing this. 

Mingyu opens the door quicker than you’d anticipated, after briefly wondering if he’d already gone to sleep after the long day he’s probably had. His brows furrow as he registers you at his door, your name tumbling out of his lips in mild confusion. He’s still in the clothes you saw him last, and you doubt it’s been long since he got home too. 

“Promise me you mean it,” you say. 

“What?”

“Promise me you mean it.”

“Mean what?” The crease between his brows deepens as he tries to make sense of what you’re saying. 

“Whatever you said. Promise me you mean it. Promise me. On all the years we spent together, on every truth you've ever said to me. Promise on me that you mean it.”

The silence is deafening, yet you wait. You wait for him to respond. You wait for him to understand what you’re saying. 

Mingyu gulps before opening his door wider, expression neutralizing slightly as he invites you inside. “Why're you standing on the door? Come inside.”

“I’m not taking another step in your direction, Kim Mingyu, not until you answer me,” you snap. 

Letting his hand leave the grip on the door, he brings them both up to rub at his face, taking a simultaneous breath, deep and shaky. When he emerges his eyes are showing a hint of red as he licks his lips. 

Your grip on your own fingers tighten as Mingyu talks. 

“I want to rip my heart out for what it wants from you. I want to rip it out for what it did to yours. Believe me when I say I’ve forgotten how it felt to be this sincere. I love you. I don't deserve to say it, but I love you.”

There’s a beat that passes, one that you barely feel as you throw your bag on the floor of his entryway, grabbing him by the collar with both hands as you yank his face down to hover right in front of yours, nose touching, lips not quite. 

“If you’re lying to me,” you whisper, shaky voiced, “I’m gonna chop your balls off.”

Mingyu answers for you as he finally, finally closes the cursed gap between you, lips capturing yours in a long awaited kiss. You let him pull you inside as you move your lips against each other, the distinct click of the door signaling you were finally inside. 

His hands grip your hips and waist in a manner that’s near painful, yet you can’t find yourself complaining even as he pushes you against the now closed door, hard. His mouth leaves yours for what is barely a second, before your desperate hands move his face back in to continue what you’ve been wanting to do for years. 

His mouth is warm, the vaguest hint of champagne on his tongue. You wonder how many toasts he’s clinked and downed, how many times he thought of you as he celebrated. 

“I love you,” you mumble against his lips. 

Mingyu’s hands are pushing your body against his own, so flush and tight you can barely breathe. Like he’d rather die than bring space between the two of you in that moment. 

“I love you, too,” he mumbled back between kisses. “I love you so much.”

Both of your hands are beginning to roam, less innocent than the fingers tangled in his hair and digging into his shoulders, less innocent than the grips on your hips and neck. It isn’t until his hands are groping your ass that you begin to subconsciously tug at his shirt, wanting the wretched thing out of the way to finally feel him in full. 

There’s a warm hand that grips yours as he stops you, lips pulling away slightly as he rests his forehead against yours. There’s a wild moment of sobriety as you wonder if you’ve read the situation wrong, if you pushed too far. 

“You’re asking me for something I’m ready to give you.” He sounds breathless. “But I need to know if you really want it.”

He looks absolutely gorgeous with his swollen lips, your lipstick staining his own mouth, his messy hair from all the desperate fingers running through them. It takes one look into his bedroom eyes to have your yeses tumbling out your mouth. 

“I want it. I want it if you’ll give it to me. Mingyu, please.”

He leans in to give you a soft peck before pulling away slowly. “You can stop me whenever, just say the word.”

He’s facing you as he speaks, hands pulling you further into the house in slow and steady steps. “I’m not gonna do anything you don’t want me to, I promise.”

By the time you reach the four walls of his bedroom, you’re itching to have his hands on you again, something he senses as he presses his hot mouth to your awaiting lips. His touches become decreasingly respectful as his hands run up your sides, thumbs brushing against the sides of your clothed breasts as he moves his mouth further down. 

Kisses line your jaw, reaching the joint as he nips at your earlobe teasingly. Pushing the coverup off of your shoulders is easy, fingers tracing the exposed skin as his mouth moves down to your neck, nipping and sucking teasingly. Your breathing is embarrassingly heavy. 

“You’re gorgeous,” you hear him breathe out. 

His fingers fit under the zipper of your dress not too long after, pulling it down to reveal your back tantalizingly slow. His hands smooth over your waist once he reaches the bottom, bringing them up to your upper body as you feel his palms grab your breasts in a soft squeeze. The moan you let out is small, but enough to encourage him to bring his hands to the straps of your dress, pulling them down your shoulders one after the other. 

“Do you realize how good you looked in this today,” he says. “Was so happy you came, so, so happy to see you after so long.”

Mingyu kisses you again in a slow, passionate manner, hands pushing down the tight fabric of the bodice to let it fall off your body to a pile on the floor. It leaves you bare save for your bra and panties. 

Mingyu lets out a groan at the sight in the dimly lit room, the sound checking in as one of the hottest things you’ve ever heard, the vibrations leading straight to your core like they belonged there. The focus goes back to his hands that continue to roam your body, mouth traveling further south to leave hot, open mouthed kisses on your cleavage. 

Your own fingers come up to fiddle with the buttons of his dress shirt, managing to pull a couple loose as you whine, “Mingyu.”

“Patience, my love.” He moves you backwards slowly as his mouth leaves your chest, pushing you into the plush of his mattress as you feel the back of your knees bump into the edge. “Let me take my time with you.”

He brings a knee up to the bed as he keeps his gaze on you, beginning to unbutton the rest of his shirt as you prop yourself up on your elbows. For once, you’re allowed to stare at the sculpt of his chest and abdomen, letting your gaze take you to the dipped V before the cut off. The mere sight of his fingers working against his belt have you needing to close your thighs for the sake of your now throbbing core. 

Only clad in his dark boxers, you let him climb over you in a way you can only describe as a prowl, inserting himself between your legs as he pushes your head up to the headboard. The hand that splays out on your thigh is having the muscle twitch, the anticipation for what he might do next gripping you. 

“Let me get this off of you,” he says with his hands toying with the elastic of your bra, prompting you to arch your back so he could reach under to unclasp it in a way you can only call professional. 

There’s barely any time for you to feel a semblance of embarrassment when he flings the padding away, mouth coming in direct contact with your breast in a harsh suck. The feeling has you moaning his name into the dark room, only encouraging his wet tongue to circle around the bud before going back to suckling. He doesn’t forget your other breast as he brings his hand up to squeeze the mound and play with your nipples the same. 

The sensations are overwhelming already, your hands gripping his hair in desperation as you throw your head back at his ministrations. The ache in your underwear is becoming increasingly difficult to resist, the foreign feeling of his mound against your inner thigh only coursing more want into your awaiting heat. 

Your chest is a mess of redness and saliva but the time Mingyu’s had his fill, pulling away to admire the work he’s left. 

“Fuck, Mingyu, please,” his name is the only thing that comes out in your pleas, hoping he’d give you wanted before you lost your mind for good. 

“I love this lighting on you,” he says simply, moving to sit on his knees as he takes his eyes up and down your practically naked frame. 

Both hands come in to push your thighs further apart, giving him better access to the gold that sits right in between. “You’re beautiful.” 

You feel the pad of his thumb come in contact with your clit in the lightest pressure, slowly brushing over the muscle as he continues. “The most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.” 

He presses his thumb in further, pushing down to meet your hole, the source of the large wet patch on the fabric of panties. The whimpers the new feeling is having you let out are near embarrassing. Hooking his fingers around your panties, he asks, “Can I take these off?” 

“Yes!” you gasp out immediately, hip rising to let them slide the pesky fabric off and away. 

He wastes no time in bringing his fingers to your folds, gathering your arousal in his fingers as he spreads them across your throbbing clit. He’s rubbing the area in circular motions, the feeling having you wracking out sounds you never thought you could make. The sheets are bunched up in your grip as you throw your head back at the feeling that encases you, eyes screwed shut. 

“Oh, Mingyu,” 

That only encourages him as his other hand joins the party, a lone finger circling your entrance in preparation to plunge into you, slowly, all the way to the hilt of his finger. Zoning in on the feeling, the pump of his fingers into your core, the constant ministrations of his other thumb on your clit. Your hands leave his wrinkled sheets as they come in to grip his wrists and forearm, needing to feel his skin to anchor yourself into the present. Not being able to bring yourself to open your eyes, he takes it upon himself to insert another finger, encouraging your lids to fly open at the stretch and the loud moan that comes with it. 

“God, you’re so fucking wet, I’m barely pushing.” It may have embarrassed you a little if you weren’t so withdrawn from pleasure, the prospect only having you whimper his name even more. 

It isn’t when he curls his fingers inside you that you feel the need to stifle the sounds that come out of your throat, hand to mouth as the volume has you needing to shut yourself up. He brings his hand off your clit to grab you by the wrist, freeing your mouth of restraint. 

“Don’t,” his voice gravelly as he gets off his knees to hover over you, his other hand continuing to pump his fingers in and out of you in perfect motions. “I wanna hear your voice. I wanna hear all the pretty sounds you’re making.”

He leans in to place a chaste kiss on your mouth, fingers quickening their pace as your sounds grow louder, “Mingyu, I think I’m…I think I’m close.” 

“It’s okay, let go whenever, darling, it’s okay.” His other hand goes back to its rightful position on your clit, thumb circling the bud in quick motions as he encourages you to climax. 

And you do. The blissful release comes crashing into you hard, the feeling leaving nothing but white hot space in the expanse of your brain, letting the feeling take over as you melt into the sheets. “F-fuck…”

He doesn’t stop either hand till you physically have to push his fingers off of you, the overstimulation coming in hot. 

You don’t come around for a little bit, but feel every searing kiss he leaves on your skin in the aftermath. Pressed into your chest, your collarbones, you neck and your jaw. He makes his way up to your face slowly, pressing his lips onto your closed lids as you wait for your breathing to even out. His face is the first thing you see when you open your eyes, leaning forward to press your own lips against his. 

“How was that?” he asks slowly, and you don’t miss the hint of a smirk on his face. You can’t help but break into a smile of your own. 

“Great.”

“Great?”

“Amazing.” You lean in to kiss him again, palms coming in contact with the expanse of his back as you move your mouths together. It’s not long before your fingers reach the waistband of his boxers, hands coming up front to feel him through the fabric, palming him in the process. 

You feel him shudder in your hold, lips pulling away as he stares into your eyes. 

“What?” you ask in a whisper when he makes no other moves. 

“I’m trying to think if I have condoms or not,” he whispers back, and you can’t help but let out a laugh at his delivery. He begins to giggle with you, backing up as he reaches over to rummage through his nightstand. 

“Fuck yeah,” you hear him say as he comes round with the shiny pack. He’s giggling as he undoes the wrapper, the lighthearted nature of it all bringing a laugh to your own lips. 

Pulling his underwear down and off, you watch as he preps himself with the rubber, your own hand coming up in a trance to stroke his gorgeous length lightly, his palms ghosting over your hand at the feeling. Once he decides he can’t take it anymore he’s grabbing both your wrists to pin them beside your head in one swift motion, earning a gasp from you at the abruptness. 

“I’m gonna put the tip in first, let you adjust before I go in further,” he explains as he uses his knee to push your thighs apart to grant him more access. “I’m gonna listen to you throughout, okay? Just say so if you want me to stop, I’ll hear you.” 

When you don’t reply he continues, “I need to know you heard me, baby.” 

“I heard you,” you answer, and he finally lets go of one of your hands to guide his length to your entrance, gathering your remaining arousal. He’s sliding his tip across your folds, grinding onto your clit within his length and it has you nearly careening off the edge. 

“Mingyu, in, please!” you beg, and you hear him chuckle before he’s finally pressing the tip into your prepped hole. 

You almost breathe a sigh of relief as you feel him begin to push into your hot core, keeping his promise of only getting to the tip, before bringing himself out and going back in. He’s slow as he stretches you out, his hands coming up to the sides of your head as he tucks his face into the crook of your neck. Lifting one of your legs, you wrap them around his waist as you grant him further access into you, one of his hands coming up to keep your raised leg steady. 

He halts when he finally bottoms out, pausing for breath. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just,” you manage, arms wrapped around his shoulders tight. “Give me a second.” 

When you give him the green light and he begins to move out slowly, only to thrust back in, you find yourself settling into the sheets more consciously, ready to take what he was about to finally give you. You’re both a mess of whimpers and sounds, the feeling overtaking any shreds of restraint you had left. His hands are groping you everywhere, his fingers finding your breasts again as he begins to toy with your nipples, all while thrusting into you at a steady yet equally maddening pace.

He feels amazing, beyond just his dick. The feeling of his body pressed against yours is heavenly, the tears beginning to slowly prick at your eyes as you let yourself melt into his hold, a metaphorical layer away from morphing into his skin entirely. The sounds he’s making are pure melodies, the groans, grunts and heavy moans floating around in your otherwise empty head like they’d never ever leave. They do more when they encourage the building feeling in your abdomen, your moans growing increasingly erratic. 

If the bed is creaking from his incessant thrusting, you don’t hear it. The only thing ringing in your head being the near closure you’re about to receive from him. “Gyu, I’m…”

“Shit, me too.” he grunts, and you believe him as his movements begin to grow sloppier, his hips slamming into yours with more force than before. 

And then it’s bliss, the feeling dropping in on your body as you feel yourself begin to spasm in his hold, the loudest moan ripping from your throat at the sensation. You’re contracting around him so, so good, and it’s enough to have him moaning into your own ear as he feels his climax come over him as well. 

He’s shooting his load into the rubber, and for a wild moment you wish he’d rip it off and finish inside you instead, your blabbering brain wanting to take all of him in. The fever passes in a few heavy minutes, Mingyu’s body is dropped on top of you, his length remaining inside your warmth as you both relished in the post sex haze. 

He’s first to pick his sweltering body off of yours, the cool air hitting your skin as he pulls out of you slowly. You’re still trying to come to earth, even when you hear the water beginning to run in the attached bathroom, even when he walks out in a fresh pair of boxers, walking over to your form on the bed. 

His fingers run through your hair as he places soft kisses on your temple, coaxing you to open your eyes. “Come on babe. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

When you make no moves to get up despite opening your eyes, he’s physically pulling you up to grace your head on his chest in an effort to take a step back into the world. His fingers continue to thread through your hair, massaging your head lightly as you breathe in his scent. You do end up getting up and letting him lead you to the bathroom, but only after he threatens to carry you there over his shoulder. The bath is already drawn when you dip your feet into the warm water, planting yourself inside as you lean against the walls of the tub.

“Gyu, why is it warm?” you whine, wanting a cooler temperature to hit your sticky body. 

He chuckles as he sits by the tub, hands coming in to wet your hair for you, “I’m scared your body’s gonna go into shock if I chucked you into a cold bath. You’ll feel better in a minute, love.” 

You don’t argue as he does most of the work for you, shampooing, scrubbing and conditioning. He lets you sit in the tub for a little bit as he leaves to get you a towel and a shirt, coming back to continue coaxing you to leave the tub this time. You grab his outstretched hand, pulling him down to sit next to you again. 

“Sit with me for a little bit, right here,” you say as you lean over the edge of the tub. 

“I can sit with you in bed once you’re dried up,” he tries to reason. “Under the covers. Where it’s more comfortable than hard acrylic, remember?” 

Pouting a little, you let him wrap you in a towel as you admit defeat, too tired to argue much more than that. He continues to shrug one of shirts over your shoulders, going as far as drying your hair before finally letting you crawl back under the covers. He joins you soon after, wrapping his limbs around you in a tight embrace, breathing in the mix of his own shampoo and your scent. 

“Are you okay? Did I do too much?” he asks quietly.

“Mhm,” you hum into his chest. “I’m okay.”

There’s a deep vibration in his chest as he finds your lack of response amusing, looking at your face that looks about three seconds away from slipping into dreamland. Nearly, he realizes, as your eyes are suddenly pushed wide open, a gasp leaving your throat. 

“What? What?” Mingyu asks as you sit up all of a sudden scrambling to find your phone. 

“My phone, where is it?” you ask as you ruffle through the covers. 

“Did you bring it with you?” 

You suddenly remember your bag that you threw in his entryway a couple hours ago, your phone nestled inside. Swinging your legs over the edge of the bed, you attempt to stand up to retrieve it, only to find out the universe wasn’t about to let you do that. You don’t miss Mingyu’s chortle as he watches you nearly fall over after wobbling around like a fawn, your arms trembling as you pull yourself up back on the bed. 

“What the fuck?” you breathe out. 

“Get back on, I’ll get your bag for you.” He’s still smiling when returns, throwing your purse on the bed. 

You immediately unlock your phone to find Nayeon’s contact, choosing to leave her a text considering the late hour.

“What is it?” Mingyu asks again as he watches you type, arms coming up from behind to engulf you in his hold again. 

“I told Seokmin I was at Nayeon’s. He didn’t believe me but I’m telling her to cover for me anyway.” 

“Oh.”

The thought comes to you later than it should have, realizing you’d have to involve Seokmin in…whatever this was, sooner or later. 

“Don’t,” you hear Mingyu say behind you.

“What?”

“Don’t. I know what you’re thinking about. We can deal with Seokmin when we need to, don’t think about it right now, that’s my job.” 

“I-”

“He needs to deal with me being serious about you,” he continues, giggling, “Even if I have to make you run away with me.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” 

He brings your wrist up to his mouth, placing a kiss there, “It won’t. I promise.” 

The sitting up thing doesn’t last for too long, both of you wanting nothing more than to lay down for the lack of energy. Limbs are a tangled mess as you both lay in silence, tired but not wanting to go to sleep just yet. It stays that way for a while, head on his chest as you take in the aftermath of everything that’s happened. 

You just had sex with Kim Mingyu. He loves you back. And you know he means it. This isn’t a hyperrealistic childhood fantasy, this is real life. You’re touching him, he’s holding you, you can hear his heart beat, you can feel his skin under the palm of your hand. 

You’re distracted from your thoughts as you sense Mingyu reaching over the edge of the bed to his nightstand as he looks for something, bringing his hand over to show you a very familiar pink cover in his hands. 

“Oh,” you let out as you recognize the title, snorting as you remember where the verdict for that ended, “We were supposed to talk about the ending.”

“We could do that right now.”

“Uh, about that,” you say. “I never actually got to finish it.”

“You were supposed to be done like two weeks ago,” he frowns.

“I didn’t get to finish it the day…the day you came over. Couldn’t bring it in myself to touch it after that.” you say as you note the little tabs sticking out the sides, wanting to address them. 

“You can use this one to finish it then, it’s yours.” 

You glance up at him as he talks, opening the book to skim through the pages. And then you see it, tiny scribbles on margins, sticky notes at chapter ends with his thoughts, colorful tabs sticking out of every highlighted line, everything complete with a color coded key in the front.

“I saw you do it with your other books, found out it’s not actually a crime to write in books and…I guess it became fun.” he explains as he watches you flick through the pages. “I was gonna give this to you at some point. Sounded like a thoughtful idea in my head.”

You don’t answer him, simply facing him in silence before continuing, “I would’ve been sucking your dick right now if I wasn’t so tired.”

He throws his head back in a loud laugh, the high pitched noise sounding across the room as he nearly curls up from the hilarity. You don’t think it was that funny, but maybe it’s because you were telling the truth. You’re pretty sure you’ve joked about wanting to do that to someone who’d do something like this for you, perhaps you could find the transcripts hidden in some text messages with Nayeon later to show Mingyu.

 His laughter is contagious regardless, giggles of your own coming out as you watch him practically lose it. 

“I think you need to go to sleep,” you comment through bouts of laughter. 

He sighs a vocal sigh as he calms down slowly, agreeing with your suggestion that the near morning delirium was getting to both of your heads. You rest your newly acquired, yet equally prized possession to the side, finally turning in for the night as he reaches to turn his night lamp off. 

Mingyu moves to press his forehead into yours, not before placing a tiny peck into your lips as he mumbles against them in the dark, “I love you.”

“I love you,” you hum back as you press your lips together one last time, finally letting his breathing lull you into sleep. 

The mattress is foreign, so is the pillow, and so are the scents that linger in the room. It’s colder than you’d usually have it and the blankets feel different on your skin. And despite the most foreign thing in the room, the one that has his arms and legs wrapped around you, the one that whispered his love for you into your skin before drifting off, you find yourself falling into a sleep that’s more blissful than any you’ve had in a very, very long time. 

The sun is doing nothing to help itself against the tide of annoyance tht rises in your sleepy state. You’d get up and yank the curtains but can’t bring yourself to have the motivation to leave the soft mattress, simply bunching the blanket up to your face to block out the remnants of sun rays that invade the room. You’ve nearly lulled yourself back to sleep when you start registering noises coming from outside the bedroom walls, muffled yet familiar. 

Your brother is talking about something you can’t make out, Seokmin’s voice is undeniable despite passing through the folded layers of comforters around your head. You don’t doubt the presence of the sweat that’s probably already accumulated on your scalp. 

 There’s nothing that alarms you in the moment despite Seokmin’s yapping — that is until you hear a second voice.

You recognize it immediately as the sound of Mingyu’s talking, the words equally as muffled yet the intonation clear all the same. 

Kicking the sheets off of your overheating body, you squint as you open your eyes in a desperate attempt to reign yourself back to earth, recollections of the past twenty four hours hurtling back to you like a constant line of K.O’s. 

The gallery, the picture, the drive up to Mingyu’s place,the sex, the falling asleep in his arms. You sit up in Mingyu’s bed, clad in nothing but his own T-shirt as you realize your brother is downstairs talking to Mingyu, and you have no idea if he knows you're here. 

You realize very quickly that you’re trapped, being left with no other option than to remain in Mingyu’s bedroom until he comes back up to give you the clear, despite wanting to walk out to take the tiniest peek. You’re not sure what’s worse, getting caught or sitting in the growing pool of anxiety before Mingyu gets back. 

It’s a long, long twenty minutes, in which you’ve done just about everything to get to hear their conversation a bit better; or to distract yourself from the fact that it’s happening at all. Pressing your ear to the door before going back to make the bed. Freshening up in the bathroom before going back to jamming your eye into the keyhole (you aren’t sure why considering door faces a plain wall). You even hijacked a spare cup Mingyu had lying around the room to stick into the wall, hoping all those Mr. Bean cartoons hadn’t been lying to you. 

They were simply talking in a tone too low for your ears to catch (despite the Mr. Bean hack), and you resorted to scrolling on your phone to pass the remaining time. It’s catastrophic to say the least, when you’re met with a string of frantic messages from Nayeon as well as a couple missed calls from your brother. 

[Nayeon]: fuck [Nayeon]: i didnt see this [Nayeon]: he called this morning asking about you  [Nayeon]: i accidentally told him you werent here [Nayeon]: im so sorry where are you  [You]: its okay its my fault for texting so late [You]: i was at mingyus place [You]: ill tell you more later [Nayeon]: WHAT???

By the time Mingyu walks in, he’s mildly surprised to see you awake, pausing at the door as he takes in your huddled form. You sit up immediately, noting his still messy hair and the backwards sweatshirt he’s thrown on over his boxers. The question tumbles out of your lips before you can help it, “Was that Seokmin?”

“Good morning to you too,” he grumbles sarcastically, coming up on the bed to join you in your huddle fest. You’re a little embarrassed at the way you’ve greeted him first thing when he sees you, but his expression when he continues replaces it with something akin to fear. “And yeah, it was him.”

You want to ask him a follow up question, but you aren’t sure what to say, simply staring at him, hoping he’d get the hint and continue by himself. He does. 

“The idiot has a spare key so he just…” He trails off, rubbing his hands on his face,  “he just walked in straight to the room. Got the shock of his life, I suppose, ‘cause it woke me up while you kept snoring.” 

“He walked into the room?!” you nearly screech, hand clamped over mouth, horrified. “What did he say to you?”

Mingyu has the audacity to laugh, simply tugging you back down on the bed to hold you. You briefly wonder how he’s so casual about this. “There’s not really an expected reaction from someone when they find you half naked in bed with their sister.” 

The haphazardly shoved sweatshirt and no pants look was starting to make sense. “I heard you talking downstairs, what were you talking about?” 

“Nothing you have to worry your pretty little head about,” his lips graze the shell of your ear as he snuggles further into you. “He wants you home by seven though.” 

You throw your head back in a whine, “God, what am I gonna do?” 

“You’ll be fine, he didn’t smack me, he can’t possibly be that mad at you.” 

“What was he then, ecstatic?” you retort. 

“I mean,” his energy shifts a little. “I think he’s just a little hurt that he wasn’t told.” 

“So you’ve done your damage control and now I need to pray he doesn’t disown me.” 

“God, you’re being so negative,” he comments and you can’t help but round up on him.

“And you’re acting like you don’t care!”

He’s planting a fat kiss on your cheek at your outburst, coming in to coddle you even more. “I’m kidding, I just want you to relax, don’t be upset.” 

“Has he given you his verdict yet?” you ask quietly.

He sighs at the question and you can’t imagine his answer being any good. “Not yet, pretty up in the air about it.” 

When he sees you deflate even more in his arms, he continues, “I’m sure he’s gonna come around, he loves you too much to not. It’s just a matter of time while he gets to make sense of the situation, don’t worry about it.” 

“I hope so,” you reply.

“We might have wash his socks for the next five years once he does, but it’s okay.” 

You can’t help but snort at the prospect, “His feet are stinkier than the regular human’s, are you sure about that?”

He grins, “I’d do it for you.”

You push his face away, rolling your eyes at his attempt to be sappy. “You’re gonna keep me for five years?” 

His smile drops as you feel the atmosphere shift in the slightest, his presence moving impossibly closer to you. “I’m gonna keep you forever.”

Hearing it is enough to have you lurching forward, closing the final gap between you so you can give in to the urge to kiss him. He’s enthusiastic to give back, pulling your body to face him entirely as you mumble between kisses, “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

The rest of the day (once your anxiety’s calmed down, at least) is spent loitering around each other as you migrate around the house in random excess. He makes you breakfast, and you need to physically restrain him to stop feeding you every bite of pancake and bacon. You let him make your favourite for lunch though, after you finally admitted how much you truly liked his Chow Mein, going as far as to run to the store to grab the stuff he was missing. He returns with a bag of groceries, not missing an abnormal amount of moonpie value packs that he stashes in his cabinets because “you’re gonna be around all the time”. 

6:30 rolls around quicker than either of you would have liked, needing to wiggle out of Mingyu’s hold on his couch to change out of your half naked state. He continues to delay you another ten minutes as he refuses to open his car door to let you walk into the apartment building, leaning over the console to continue mumbling whines between your own consoling kisses. 

By the time you’re making the walk of shame up to your door, the pit of anxiety that began to brew this morning returns from its dormancy, no Mingyu here to help ease your nerves, Gripping your key tight in your hands, you brace yourself to jam and twist to finally end this matter once and for all (at least you hope you can). 

Seokmin is waiting on the couch for arrival like a parent waiting to catch their child in the act. He briefly glances over at you as you whisper a tame “Hi”, slipping off your shoes. He doesn’t reply as he merely grabs the remote to pause his show, casting a heightened awkward atmosphere at the silence that’s now engulfing the room. You tread carefully over to the couch, where Seokmin sits with his arms crossed. 

It takes one look at his face for you to suddenly want to get on your knees and beg for forgiveness. He didn’t look angry, and perhaps you would’ve preferred his aggression if it didn’t mean having to look at a hurt Seokmin. You sit in silence for a couple dramatic minutes, hoping he would start talking so you wouldn’t have to. Yet, when you realize you might have to say something anyway for fear of crushing under the pressure, you find yourself opening your mouth. 

“Are you upset?” Of course, he’s upset, you idiot.

“I just–” he starts, before sighing. “I just wish one of you would’ve told me what was going on.” 

“I know, I’m sorry,” you reply. “I didn’t want either of you to have an excuse to be upset with each other, so I just…”

“I get that it was a recent thing but I think I deserved as much to know what was happening when I wasn’t around.”

You wince as speaks, realizing he hasn’t caught on to the fact that this isn’t recent at all — for you at least. “Um, about that…”

“What? There’s more?” he scoffs. 

“I, uh…I’ve liked him since like fifth grade—” He’s immediately jaw dropped, eyes bulged, taking a sharp breath. “But! In my defense, it was really obvious—it’s honestly your fault for not noticing.”

‘My–My fault?!” he sputters. “That’s like, forever, and you told me nothing? Mingyu told me this was recent, why did he lie?” 

“He didn’t, nothing happened till last night, I swear.” You cringe at what you’re entailing. “It was just me that liked him for that long, he figured it out pretty early on but…”

“He’s finally reciprocating now?” he suggests, almost sarcastically. 

“Yeah,” you breathe out lightly. 

“This is insane,” he blows out a breath of air, massaging his temples. 

“I’m not being stupid about him,” you mutter lowly, “This isn’t some puppy dog crush, especially not after so long.” 

He’s silent. 

“I’m telling you this because I don’t want you to think I’m jumping into this blind, especially for what it means for you too.” 

No response. 

“I’m sorry that you had to find out like this, it’s really not how I wanted it to go.” And when you’re met with even more silence, you find yourself continuing. “Please, talk to me. Cuss me out if you want, I’d honestly rather you yell at me.”

Seokmin sighs for the near hundredth time, finally looking like he might say something. “I want you to listen to me very carefully.”  

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up, mind immediately going to the worst. Was he going to ask you to break up with him?

“I’m gonna choose to trust the both of you on this,” he starts, and you nearly melt into the cushions, “It’s your life, you can date whoever you want. And…I guess Mingyu is better than someone else. Probably uses bad hair gel though.” 

You’re catapulting yourself off the couch at the sound of that, throwing yourself onto an unassuming Seokmin. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” 

“OW! Okay! Geez, get off,” he grumbles as he finally stops wrestling you to let go of him, hugging you back as you squeeze his shoulders tight. 

“I promise I won’t keep anything like this from you again.” 

“You better not,” he huffs as you let go of him, “Don’t think this means you’re forgiven. You still have a lot to tell me.” 

“I promise I won’t leave out a thing.”

The following weeks are near bliss, following your very loud confrontation with Nayeon when she gets back from her summer vacation, her screams at every plot turn having you praying for her neighbors. You doubt she believed you despite everything, not until she physically sees Mingyu come in one day, making a beeline to peck you on the lips before greeting anyone else. Her dropped jaw was very telling. 

Even now, as Mingyu sports the title of the lame alumnus that still hangs around campus as he grips your hand, walking through the grass, the double takes you’re receiving seem to be traveling quite fast. You wouldn’t necessarily blame them considering the trickier than usual dynamic you sport due to your brother (and you guess due to his reputation as well). 

But you also knew they’d be quick to die out as the newer batches of students come flying in — Mingyu will soon become a very well kept secret, in one way if not the other. 

His neighbors, however, must be wishing he had the same sentiment as well, considering the absolutely foul noises that are coming from his apartment. 

You’re learning very quickly that Mingyu’s innocent touchiness can turn into something of the opposite at any given time, exhibit A being now as you try your damn hardest to muffle the sounds coming out of your mouth as Mingyu works his own mouth on your cunt. The knees over his shoulders are shivering from the expense, fingers pumping into your hole as he rubbed a particular spot with his tongue that had you gripping onto his hair tight. 

As much as Mingyu loves to hear you, you find his other hand being brought up to place two fingers in your mouth for you as the perfect pacifier, sounds limiting extensively. 

By the time you’re coming undone, sprawled on his couch like you just ran a marathon, you’re quick to realize that he has no intention of letting you have a breather. It takes one shove for him to pull his pulsing length out of his pants, tip pushing into your still sopping hole as he invited all of him inside you. 

You’ll never forget the first time Mingyu fucked you raw, right after you told him he had the green light after taking your birth control pills. It was magic, you’ve never seen him this vocal as he finished inside you nearly four times in a single night. His moans remain loud even still, as he brings your thighs to press over your chest, basically folding you in half. The mere sound of your wetness as he pumps in and out of you is enough to have you nearly careening over the edge, especially when you feel a desperate hand reach out to rub fast circles on your clit. 

You throw your head back as you cum for the second time, pulsing around him in a grip Mingyu can’t believe has the ability to become tighter. It’s enough for him though, as he leans his forehead against your chest as he releases himself inside you. 

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of it, watching you filled to the brim with his cum, even as it drips onto the blankets you’ve laid down below. He has half a mind to stuff the liquid back inside you, but fears you’re tired enough, the overstimulation too much for you. 

By the time you’ve cleaned up and resumed the movie you should’ve been done with hours ago, cuddled impossibly close to him, you find yourself remembering something quite out of the blue.

“Hey, not that I really care anymore,” you start, “But who were the guys you were talking to that day? From the party.”

“Stopped hanging out with them ages ago,” Mingyu scoffs, face souring at the mention of them. “I mean, it was me who said all that bullshit, but they weren’t exactly good influences either. Learned that pretty quick.”

“Oh,” you reply simply, letting your head fall back onto his chest.

He doesn’t seem to be having any of it, grabbing your chin to have you face him. “I’m still really sorry about that. I don’t care if you chase my tail for another fifty years, it’ll always be adorable.”

“Forgave you a long time ago, but I think I have a condition now.” 

He quirks a brow at your words. “What does her Highness ask of me?”

“That you chase my tail for another fifteen to make up for all the running I’ve done.” 

He’s laughing at that, agreeing to your condition as places loving smooches all over your face. “Consider it done.”

It’s later on in the night, both of you huddled in ratty hoodies and mismatched slippers, plastic bag crinkling along Mingyu’s arm as you giggle about something he said. You’re enjoying your fudgsicle in the peace and serenity of the 1 AM hour, making your trek home after raiding the corner store down the block. Mingyu suddenly halts in his tracks as he sees a particularly pretty set of flowers, illuminated by the fluorescent street lights. 

“Babe, babe, stand here let me take a picture of you.”

“What?” you frown, holding up your stick of iced chocolate. “I’m not done yet.”

You watch as he grabs the melting popsicle from your hand downing the entire thing in one go as you watch him, hand still outstretched and jaw dropped. “Mingyu, you bitch!”

He only smiles as he mulls the chocolate in his mouth, words basically gibberish, “‘ere’s more in the ba’, now go stan'!” 

You huff as you trudge to where he was asking you to pose, throwing a couple peace signs to satiate the home video urges in him so you could rip open your second fudgsicle. 

“Wait! You got a little chocolate on your mouth.” he announces, and you stick your tongue out to lick past the remnants of the sweetness. “No— wait.”

He walks over to you as your still trying to find the spot you missed, unassuming as he swings into your face to kiss the remaining off. “Oh, nevermind, it was nothing.” 

You push him off as heat crawls up your face, feigning annoyance at his antics. You decide to forgive him when rips open another fudgsicle for you, offering it with both hands, promising to not steal a single lick. You believe him, snatching the stick from him as you continue your trek home. 

It’s not until he’s attempting to send you the pictures he just took to your phone so you could post them (which, with the way you looked, fat chance) that he notices something in your albums. 

“Oh, are these grad photos?” he asks as he clicks the album open.

“Mhm,” you hum not paying too much attention as you walked and ate. 

“Why’s there only one picture here?” he asks as he pulls up to find nothing more left to load. 

It’s only then that you bring your full attention to your phone in his hand as you realize what picture he’s talking about, “Oh god, don’t look at that one.”

He does the obvious thing and opens it anyway, a louder than necessary “aw” coming out his mouth. “Why do you look like I’m about to eat you?” 

“It felt like it!” you whine, remembering the moment clear as day. “They kept pestering me to take a picture with you too, I was tryna book it out of there at first chance.” 

He giggles as he zooms into the photo, “I’m sending this to myself.”

You groan loudly at the thought, “God, just delete it, leave it alone.”

He tucks the phone into himself further, not letting you grab it. “No, you’re not deleting it. Why do you have it tucked into a separate folder if you hate it so much.”

He’s got you there, you realize quickly, and he reigns in his victory as he watches you grimace at the phone slightly, adding on, “it has a lot of feelings attached to it, I get it. But look, we can attach new feelings to it, now you’ll think about right now the next time you see it.”

“Think about you hijacking my fudgsicles? I think I prefer heartbreak,” you say, bringing your half eaten pop closer to your body in case he tries anything. 

You’re deemed correct when he replies, motioning towards your concealed treat, “Careful, I can still pounce when you’re not looking.” 

Shoving your hands into the swinging bag hanging on Mingyu’s arm, you bring out a thing of sausage and shove it towards him, “You leave me and my fudgsicle alone, go be lousy and suck on this or whatever.”

“You’d know alot about that, wouldn’t you?” he notes casually, grabbing the sausage anyway as he unwraps it to take a bite. 

It takes you a second to realize what he’s talking about while he stares at you with a mischievous expression, coming to shove him when the innuendo finally registers in your head. You do the opposite this time, pointing the melting chocolate toward him instead, threatening to smear it all over his white hoodie. 

He laughs at the sight, disarming you by simply moving your wrist away, coming to kiss you on the mouth hard regardless of your annoyed expression. 

“Love ya’” he giggles. 

“Hm.”

“What, hm? Say it back.”

You pretend to wonder, “I don’t think so.”

“Say it!” he groans, “Say it, say it!” 

You manage to wriggle out of his hold, booking it before he realises what’s happening. 

“Hey!” 

Your both probably waking up the entire neighborhood with how loud you’re yelling and laughing, and even when he manages to tackle you down on somebody’s lawn, coaxing the words out of you with borderline violence, you still manage to smile, thanking your lucky stars that you got what you wanted after all. 

“What’re you thinking about?” he asks with an undertone. 

“Thanking my stars they led me to you,” you reply. 

“More like the other way around. Needed the fattest fucking star to realize what was in front of me all along,” he jests himself. 

It sparks a laugh out of you. “I love you.”

“And I love you.”

[crypticminx]

Telling Felix Catton you’re pregnant <333

Felix Catton (Saltburn) x fem! Reader headcanons xo

AN: hiiii these are some headcanons I made :p im too lazy to proofread Dx if you enjoy lmk if you want part 2! Blink twice and you’ll miss the smut xx

- first of all, your relationship started out as a one night stand situation because for the love of God Felix cannot keep a woman or anyone around for more than a few months—weeks even.

- You, however, were a different situation. He saw other people, you saw other people, but the two of you always kept each other locked in the back of both of your heads. Wether you needed him as a very exciting stress reliever or he needed you to release any ounce of frustration he had, the two of you were just a simple phone call away. And not just drunk booty calls.

- The feeling of his broad shoulders pressed against your frame as he would effortlessly lift you up and pin you to the wall, whispering sweet melodies into your ears as he thrusted with all of his might to make you feel good—no, more than good. He’d never admit it, but for a girl like you, he’d give you everything, even if meant he’d have nothing. “Such a good girl,” he’d purr, feeling you melt under the sound—and for a better word, control of his asserting voice

- The two of you lovebirds were loud, extremely noisy and often torturous for the other students near your dorm, who were either trying to cram for exams or focus on non-sexual activities. You would moan without a care in the world and especially when you felt him release his seed in you for the first time, which you could only assume wasn’t planned nor talked about between the two of you. It felt too sweet, and so pure with how he breathlessly smiled at your sweaty, blushing face after the deed was done. Said smile being enough to make you fall into his little trap and roll back over into another intense round of sex

- With Felix, it was like walking on a dream that never seemed to end. You could be careless, indiscreet and whatever the hell you wanted to be. he provided you with a sense of being free from the real world and wholeheartedly invited you deep into the unrealistic life of Felix Catton.

- That dream, the very one that appeared to be endless, came crashing down. What ruined it? Two little pink lines.

- With an eyebrow piercing that adults despised, a stunning model-like body, and a reputation for tossing girls around like they were paper planes; Felix was fuck buddy material, not father material.

- Sure, he has enough money to knock you up ten times and make sure every child would be provided for, but you were you. Yes, you came from wealth but not the type of catton wealth that would probably leave a child with a ridiculously expensive live-in nanny as if it was nothing. Knowing how your parents felt, there was no way in hell they would be supportive and even just the simple thought of them meeting Felix made you cringe to the point of triggering your morning sickness again.

- You would avoid Felix like the plague you read about in your boring history textbooks and on the rare occurrence you ran into him heading out on his bike or going for a well deserved drink, you would bolt as if you had to run for your life. Facing him was just the beginning of your problems

- So when you finally mustered the courage to tell him and unfortunately for you, it had to be at the university’s sleazy lounge pub, Felix was there in all his glory and sat in his usual spot. Farleigh seemed more interested in drinking than caring about what was being said, a group of girls were scattered around the boys and obnoxiously fake laughed at whatever Felix said, and there was that new guy whose name you couldn’t remember to save your life. Oliver? You thought it was, but that clearly didn’t matter anymore. The only thing that mattered was you and Felix.

- Felix nearly chokes on his drink seeing you walk towards him, your head down and your tail between your legs. Metaphorically speaking, of course.

- You ask him to talk immediately, ignoring how content he looks. How his solemn eyes instantly sparked with life again and his bored expression turned into a relish of happiness. He was thrilled.

- “I’m pregnant.”

- He stares blankly at you, seeing you tear up as if you just admitted something horrible

- A baby? And a baby with you? Nothing about that was horrible. In fact, he often pictured a future with you, even if it seemed insane.

- i he’s not angry. In fact his thick brows soften and somehow in the midst of all the chaos of noise surrounding the two of you, his words are very clear.

- “I’m glad it’s with you.”

[hyunsvngs]

kinktober !

kink: free use

pairing: 3racha x fem!reader

wc: 3.5k

free use: a fully-consensual fetish where partners are allowed to sexually “use” each other at any time.

It was an unusual situation that few would understand. The first thing being that you were in a relationship with three men, and the second thing being that you laid in their studio to be a personal stress reliever.

When Chan had mentioned free use, you’d been uneducated on the kink altogether. Jisung was the most educated - which didn’t surprise any of you, as he’s a massive freak - and Changbin was just as confused as you were. Researching the kink together showed you that yeah, you’d love to be a toy at their disposal and beck and call whenever they needed you to be. You still had the romantic aspects of the relationship too, which made you more than content.

The rules were simple. You visited them in the studio - something you did everytime they were there, anyway - but if you were comfortable with free use, you were to wear the expensive necklace Changbin bought you. Visible, so they could see it, and then you’d be used as their toy. It was the most subtle form of consent ever, but it worked, and you loved every second of it.

“Fuckin’ song’s pissing me off, Chan,” Changbin walked out of the recording booth, throwing his phone down on the table. He normally got his raps done in one or two takes, and he’d been going for a while now. You’d just been scrolling through your phone on your tummy on the sofa, kicking your feet. You heard Jisung scoff, and then he was chuckling. You always stayed quiet - only speaking when they needed you.

“Take your anger out and then try again,” Chan suggested, trying to be soft with the younger man. Changbin huffed. When you looked at him, he was staring directly at you, muscles bulging in his tight black t-shirt but his hair so soft and eyes tender. “Jisung, you go.”

“But if he’s gonna fuck her I wanna watch-”

“Jisung,” Chan chastised, eyebrows raised when he looked at the youngest. Jisung mumbled a few choice words, and then he was hesitant in getting up to go to the booth. You heard Changbin murmur a few things to Chan, and then he was approaching you on the couch. He didn’t even say anything - content with flipping your skirt up and exposing your cotton panties to the room, and you yelped.

“Gonna have you now,” Changbin murmured, thumb swiping across the gusset of your panties. You immediately locked your phone, tossing it carelessly to the floor and spreading your legs obediently. Changbin chuckled, moving your panties to the side. “That’s it. Such a good fuckin’ toy, bunny.”

You waited patiently, head down on the arm of the sofa as you heard the clinking of a belt being undone and jeans dropping. Fabric rustled as he got closer, and then his muscled forearms were caging you into the leather material you were laying upon. You knew you were wet. You always were, waiting for them like this - you had needed something inside of you as soon as you walked into the room.

“Binnie,” You mumbled, shifting your hips back. He was taking his time. Changbin kissed your cheek fondly, and then he was pushing in, his thick cock stretching you beyond belief. You liked it this way - unprepared, so you could fully feel him. He was the thickest, and you whined as you felt the short, trimmed curls at his base scratching against your ass. He’d already bottomed out.

“Such a good bunny,” He murmured, kissing your neck. You nodded, letting him fuck into you at a steady pace. Jisung and Chan were doing something - you weren’t sure what, since you were preoccupied with a thick fucking cock. Your pussy was so wet along his shaft the slide was heavenly, and you always liked it to be easy for Changbin to push into straight away like this. You were their toy, only spoken to when needed and ready and waiting with a soppy hole. “You've been wet like this the whole time?”

“Always am, Binnie,” You nodded, whimpering as you started to fuck your hips back onto his cock. You knew Changbin liked it like this, when you started to really get into it. You’d never predicted how much being treated like a toy would turn you on. “I love your cock so much, ‘s so thick, Binnie-”

“Ssh, ssh, bunny,” Changbin murmured, grunting when he bottomed out and stayed there for a moment. You wiggled your hips, trying to get more of him in, and he grabbed your hips with unbelievable strength. Changbin was the strongest, but the most hesitant to use his strength - he liked it slow, deep like you were doing then, more passionate. He was the gentlest lover. “Let me fuck into you like this. You think you’ll cum for me?”

Changbin started to thrust into you at a faster pace, wet noises echoing around the room. You gasped when one of his hands went up to grab your tit, squeezing your nipple. “I- yeah, yeah, I can cum like this, y’know I love it deep-”

The sound of feet stomping on the floor caught your attention. When you looked up, Jisung was pouting in the booth, headphones slung around his neck and his eyes wide. “So not fuckin’ fair, Chan. Look at her.”

“Jisung…” Chan murmured, ready to scold him. Jisung only pointed at you, your face in pure bliss as Changbin fucked into you. Changbin’s hand went to lift your hips up a bit, sliding one of the couch pillows underneath and you whined, feeling him pressing against that spongy spot inside of you. Chan spun around on his chair, eyes focusing on where you were writhing in pleasure.

He watched you moan and arch your back, eyes rolling back as Changbin's thrusts became more intense, repeatedly bullying into that one spot. Changbin was grunting, groaning into the crook of your neck. Chan's mouth parted, unable to contain his emotions as he watched you in the throes of pleasure. Jisung was pouting, clearly enjoying the show but wanting so badly to be involved.

“‘M so fuckin’ close, Binnie, so close,” You gasped, and Changbin nodded into your skin.

“C’mon, cum on my cock, my bunny,” He’d started to run his mouth, something that showed he was getting close, too. “Such a good fucking girl, waiting like this for us, just- just fuckin’ letting us do this, I can’t believe you, I love you so much.”

You couldn’t help but bite into the leather of the sofa, your vision becoming unfocused as you came around Changbin’s cock. The orgasm was strong, cumming with your clit untouched always was, and you whined through it with teary eyes. Changbin smacked your ass once, and when his dark, lustful eyes focused on the flesh rippling he was cumming too, a welcome warmth inside your already sodden pussy.

You weren’t done, though. You had two more men waiting to use you, and you couldn’t fucking wait. Changbin pulled out, chest heaving as he tucked his softening length back into his boxers.

He kissed your hairline, humming. “Amazing, bunny. Thank you.”

“Do I get Jisung now?” You murmured, eyes landing on the man still standing in the recording booth. You giggled when he threw the headphones down, bouncing out of the smaller room and over to you, completely bypassing Chan’s shouts of protest. You couldn’t even be shocked when Jisung didn’t say a word, throwing his t-shirt off and yanking his joggers down to his ankles. He nearly tripped over them in his haste to get to you, and Changbin chuckled, finally getting off of the sofa.

“Chan, I don’t think the song’s getting done today,” Changbin said, and Chan sighed, nodding.

“I think I’ve accepted that,” He responded. Jisung flipped you over, hands soft but his eyes so wide as he watched Changbin’s cum dripping out of you. “We may as well have some fun with her.”

“Baby,” Jisung murmured, and you hummed. He was staring down at your pussy, shaking his head in disbelief. “Looks so fuckin’ good, baby, I’m so hard.”

You giggled, spreading your legs wider and using one hand to spread your folds, letting Jisung see your hole. You knew it looked used, stretched after Changbin’s incessant fucking with his thick cock - but there’s nothing Jisung liked more than sloppy seconds. “You gonna get inside, Jisung? I need to cum on your cock, too.”

“Yeah. Yes, I’m gonna fuck you senseless, baby, I promise,” Jisung kissed your lips chastely, and then he was pushing inside. Jisung was longer than Changbin, and you gasped when he bottomed out, the curve of him helping to reach that abused spot inside of you so easily. Jisung whined, his bottom lip quivering. “It’s so fucking wet.”

“You’re welcome,” Changbin replied, smug. You scoffed, only smiling in approval when Jisung pushed your legs back to get deeper. You loved this position, especially with Jisung - his cock got so drippy and hard, to the point where sometimes he acted like it was going to kill him. He was lucky you were so pliant. Jisung always fucked quick and hard, hips slamming into you like he couldn’t get enough of it.

Chan's face was flushed, a warmth spreading through his body. He could feel himself painfully hard, his pants constrictive around his erection. He wanted so badly to join in, but he knew he had to stay back and watch. It wasn’t his turn yet.

He had clearly decided he didn’t care. You watched in awe as he shucked his pants off, wrapping one large hand around his cock and pumping at the sight of you. Your pussy was soaking, and you whined, fighting not to make grabby hands at Chan. You wanted him, too, but you hadn’t prepared your ass and you wanted to scream at yourself for it.

“Ji, fuck me harder, baby,” You murmured, and Jisung nodded. You could tell he was close already. He never lasted long when you did scenes like this, too caught up in the way your walls feel fluttering around his cock and he got even worse when he got to go after someone else. He was a freak, but so were you. You whined when his hips picked up, cockhead thrusting into you harder, and you reached one hand down to rub your clit.

“Oh, fuck, baby. That’s it, touch yourself,” Jisung moaned. You squealed as he thrust in and out of you, your hips rising to meet his. He was relentless in his pursuit of pleasure, his moans becoming louder with each thrust. You felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, and you knew you were both about to reach your climax. Your movements were sloppy on your clit with how wet you were, but it was doing the job just fine.

“You like watching me touch myself, Sungie?” You giggled, your other hand moving to grip onto the arm of the sofa. Chan groaned from the computer, and when you turned to look at him, he was shaking his head in disbelief.

“You’re fucking filth, you know that?” Chan said, and you nodded.

You pinched your clit meanly, letting yourself moan a little louder. You’d defiled this studio so many times that you were just glad it was soundproof. “You love it.”

“Fuck yeah, we do,” Changbin smirked, bulging arms crossed across his broad chest. He was content just watching, but you couldn’t say the same for Chan. Jisung’s eyes were trained only on where you were rubbing across your clit, his eyes wide and eyebrows furrowed.

“I’m gonna cum, you g’ta cum,” Jisung blabbered, and you nodded, pressing harder on your clit. “Love watchin’ you touch yourself, baby, it’s so fucking sexy. Do you - oh, fuck - do you like being used as a toy by us?”

“Oh, Sungie, I fucking love it,” You whined, walls tightening around Jisung. You were going to cum. “Talk- baby, say more, I’m so fucking close-”

“God, you’re our toy but I’m all yours,” He rambled, hands pulling your hips back on his cock. “I’m all yours, this cock is all yours, it’s hard for you always, Jesus-”

You whined in distress when you felt Jisung cumming inside of you, adding to the mess smearing all over your folds. You hadn’t finished, and you’d expected him to pull out, but Jisung slapped your hand away from your clit and rubbed it with his own thumb. It always felt better having one of your boyfriends touch you, and you clenched your walls tight on his cock as you came undone from the pleasure.

He kissed you deeply, tongue entering your mouth in a filthy exchange before he collapsed on top of you, both of you breathing heavily. You looked up at him and he smiled, kissing your nose fondly before slowly pulling out of you.

Chan sighed, making you turn to him. Your eyes grew wide as he stretched his arms above his head, finally getting up from his seat and stalking towards you.

Jisung giggled, jumping up to sit next to Changbin. “You’re so in for it, baby.”

Chan gripped your face with one hand, squishing your cheeks almost comically. “I’m gonna fuck you hard, and then I’m going to cum inside that pussy so deep it’ll be dripping out for days. Okay?”

You blinked. “Did I piss you off?”

“You always piss me off, gettin’ fucked like that. So sexy, it makes me so fucking angry,” Chan mumbled, and you tried to suppress your smile. You let him manhandle you so you were face down, ass up, and he finally yanked your panties down and threw them to Changbin. He knew he’d want to keep them, but he always bought you another two pairs in apology, so it was alright.

You laid patient while Chan flipped your skirt up further, the pleats tickling the small of your back. He hummed, swiping one thumb through your messy pussy. You felt a little nervous, like you always did with Chan - he was the biggest of the three, and even after being fucked hard by Jisung and Changbin you were a little worried it would hurt. With a quick smack to your ass, Chan was pushing in, his cock stretching you to the point of disbelief.

“Oh, ‘s so fuckin’ big,” You whined, pushing your ass back. Chan chuckled, grabbing your hips with both hands and bottoming out inside of you. You could feel how wet you were, filled up with two loads of cum already and you felt so used. It made you clench around his cock. “You got a daddy sized cock, Channie.”

“Call him daddy then,” Changbin chuckled, and you bit your lip with a smile.

“You wanna be my daddy today, Chan?” You said teasingly, and Chan groaned, his hips starting to kick up a rhythm inside of you. Your smile instantly fell, falling in a blissed out expression with lips parted. Chan always fucked you so good, preferring you on your hands and knees so he could get inside you deep and watch your ass ripple on his hips.

He pushed your head down into the sofa with one hand, picking up his pace and groaning when you tightened in approval. “Pussy’s so fucking tight. How’s it so tight? You just got fucked open like a whore.”

You whimpered, trying not to thrash your legs. “I’m a whore? God, more, say more-”

“Talk dirty to her, Chan,” Jisung chimed in, his hand already back on his hardening erection. “She loves it.”

“I think you are a fucking whore,” Chan scoffed, his hand yanking on your hair. “I think you’re daddy’s whore, aren’t you?”

You gasped, nodding. “I’m daddy’s whore, oh- oh, ‘s so big, fucking hell, daddy!”

Chan positively whined, his lips coming to kiss at your shoulder. His lips were so plush, so thick, you couldn’t help but imagine him wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking hard - something he did often - and your toes curled. “Clench that cunt for daddy, c’mon. You need to make daddy cum, don’t you? You’re not good for much else, not one thought in that pretty little head.”

Oh, he had you. He knew you so well, knew you’d squeal at the way he’s talking, and you were obedient, clenching your fluttering walls around that fat cock. You still had protest in you yet, though, despite it coming out in fractionated words. “I wan’ cum too, daddy.”

“Changbin,” Chan started, and the man in question hummed in response. “Come kiss her the way she likes.”

You moaned in excitement when Changbin walked back over to the sofa, and then he was pulling your head up by your hair. Changbin always kissed so deeply, so passionately with his plush, doll-like lips, and he let his tongue enter your mouth. You sucked on his tongue, making him moan and grab your head harder. Jisung stared at you both in envy, and then he was walking over too, cock bobbing with a newly formed erection. He had no shame, stroking it right in front of your face as you wailed into Changbin’s mouth.

“Are you gonna cum for your daddy, bunny?” Changbin muttered against your lips, and you gasped, nodding. “I think you better do it quickly then. He may leave you high and dry, y’know?”

“He’s- he’s not that mean,” You protest, shaking your head. “If he does, I’ll go to Binnie.”

“Baby, c’mere,” Jisung sighed, and then he was grabbing your head, making you face his cock. He was pumping it feverishly, matching the pace of Chan’s hips inside of you, and you licked your lips. “I’m gonna cum. Where do you want it?”

“God, if you cum on my face, I’m gonna fucking cum,” You keened, and Chan chuckled, smacking your ass.

“I think that answers your question, Sungie,” Chan mused, and Jisung nodded, smiling. His eyebrows were furrowed as he tightened his fist around his cockhead, and then he was throwing his head back, groaning as hot white cum painted your face. You just loved being treated like a slut - you were a self proclaimed whore for these three men, and as soon as the cum hit your face, you felt your walls tighten one last time. You writhed through your orgasm, only kept still by Chan’s harsh grip on your hips.

“Changed my mind,” Chan grunted, and then he was pulling out, tapping his wet cockhead on your asshole. You wiggled your ass as you felt him leak pearlescent drops onto the skin, and he started to pump his cock quickly. “I’m gonna cum on this fuckin’ ass.”

“Mm, do it,” You giggled, pushing your hips back. You felt his balls, heavy and full of cum pressing against your core, and you sighed. “Cum on this ass, daddy, c’mon. Mark it as yours.”

Chan groaned, a deep, chesty noise and then you felt the warmth cover your skin. He gasped through his orgasm, his cockhead leaking all over your ass as he came. You belatedly realised you were positively covered in cum, but the thought only made you smile happily. It’s what you’d gone to the studio for, after all.

You felt your body go lax, finally sated as you collapsed on the leather. Chan rubbed his hand over your hip soothingly, and then he was jumping off the sofa and running around the studio like a maniac. Jisung used his t-shirt to wipe your face, giggling.

“Where the fuck are the wipes? We’re gonna get cum on the sofa, what the fuck-”

“Chan, chill out,” Changbin chuckled. “It’s not the first time and it won’t be the last.”

Jisung shrugged, soft cock still slightly covered in his cum. Or, was it Changbin’s? You weren’t sure. “I can lick it up, y’know-”

“Yeah, sounds great, Sung. Then we get round two, and the song really doesn’t get done, does it?” It was hard to take Chan seriously with his hands on his hips and trousers around his ankles, and you giggled. Chan looked at you, trying to suppress a smile. “Don’t start. You’d love round two, I’m sure.”

“Of course I would,” You stretched on the sofa like a cat, knowing full well you were smearing cum everywhere. Chan groaned, but just shook his head, sitting on the computer chair. “I’m gonna take a nap. Feel free to wake me with cock, guys.”

“Insatiable,” Changbin scoffed, but he kissed your cheek anyway. “Jisung, back in the booth.”

“Oh, yeah. I’m totally ready now, actually. Let’s do this.”

You smiled as you let your head fall back onto the arm of the sofa, and you heard more bickering over the track before you let your eyes close. You were sexually sated, really, but the question was how long that would last.

[annievrse]

spider in the apartment

satoru x reader —ᡣ𐭩 blurb

Walking into the living room, for most people, is a daily occurrence. What isn’t a daily occurrence, though, is the giant spider chilling on the living room wall above the TV.

You freeze in shock at the size of the creature before regaining your senses and shouting for Satoru. You shake your limbs in disgust, and when he doesn’t respond, you run to the bedroom. 

“What? What?” He asks, swinging the ensuite door open and throwing his dirty clothes into the basket like a basketball.

“There’s a spider,” You say, and he pales.

“Where?”

You point to the living room, and Satoru walks down the hallway and pokes his head around the corner to see. But, instead of being your knight in shining armour, he sprints back into the bedroom. “Fuck, no!”

“Satoru!” You whine, tugging his hand. 

“We can just stay here, and he can have the TV! We don’t need a TV, right?” Satoru laughs nervously, and you roll your eyes. 

“Just go,” You push him out the door, and he stumbles, throwing daggers at you over his shoulder. Reaching out, you grab his hand, squeezing when the spider comes into view again, a few centimetres higher on the wall than before. Once he realises how big it is, Satoru latches onto you, arms around your shoulders and right leg hitting your hip.

You both stare at the spider in fear and feel Satoru’s breath on your neck. “Please kill it.”

“I can’t,” Satoru separates himself from you and leans down, eyes still on the spider, snatching a stray shoe beside the couch. He then drops the shoe. “No, no, there’s no way.”

“Kill it!” You yell, your voice shrill.

“Hell no! You kill it!” Satoru screams. He climbs onto the kitchen counter and grabs your hand to hoist you up. “Get up here, baby! You’re too pretty and young to die, especially to a spider.”

Then, Satoru rummages around in his pocket for his phone, and when he pulls it out, his hands shake as he clicks on a contact; it's a little funny.

"Who are you calling?" You ask, keeping your eyes on the arachnid.

"Shoko," He mumbles, fumbling with the keyboard before bringing his phone to his ear.

"She won't answer you," You say, but Satoru is too occupied with his phone to notice the dig.

"Ugh," He groans after the call goes to voicemail.

"Told you," You whisper, suddenly fearing the spider can hear what you're saying.

So, he calls her again. And after calling Shoko 2 more times, he finally gets an answer. 

“Shoko! Thank God, can you come over and kill this spider?” Satoru pleads. “—Yeah, well, I’m the strongest among sorcerers, not spiders!” 

You shake his arm when you see the spider's legs moving. But because Satoru is laser-focused on the spider, his sunglasses begin slipping off his nose, and you reach to push them up onto his hair so he doesn't break the Gucci's (a tragedy waiting to happen).

"Thank you," He mutters. "Hurry! Please!" Satoru then yells into the phone. "Shoko! I'll do anything."

And when Shoko sighs ‘fine’ after a few minutes of negotiating — an all-expenses paid dinner at Sushi Yoshitake to get the spider out — you're relieved. “You guys are such pussies.”

[harrygoeswest]

Friday Night

A Friday night gig featuring London, a Lime bike, and Harry Styles as your doting date.

992 words of fluffy nothing for the lovely @harry-on-broadway’s little fic challenge. I haven’t written anything Harry-related for a while so apologies if this is trash <3

~~~

It’s officially scarf weather, you decide, as you stand outside the Roundhouse one early October evening, scarf-less.

The temperature has dropped, you’ve pulled your winter coats out of storage, and your ears get cold on your morning walk to work now. Part of you is relieved—the heat was starting to bother you, make you lethargic and tetchy. Another part hates that flu season is imminent. But…Halloween.

Pros and cons, pros and cons.

While you wait, you watch the pedestrians idle on by, and the traffic creep past in that typical Friday night crawl. Commuting anywhere is hard. Commuting in London is like suffering in the fiery pits of hell. But this is what you signed up for, and in all honesty, something about the hustle and bustle of city living settles something in you, as strange as that sounds. You’d never been stagnant, and it’s hard to reach a point like that in a place that never sits still.

With a boyfriend that never sits still.

Speaking of…

A man on a Lime bike rings his bell as he passes by, and you can’t help the roll of your eyes. You watch as he brakes to a stop in the nearest bike park, and bury your nose beneath the warmth of your coat. Your eyes track his movements as he swings his leg over, secures the bike and ends his trip on his phone, before stalking in your direction.

He’s wearing simple grey wool trousers, one of his many Mickey Mouse t-shirts, and a navy shirt over the top with his black Vans. His hair is styled in this strange faux hawk, mullet type way again, that on anyone else you would hate. But on him…?

Nope. Not at all.

You take in a deep breath, anticipating that expensive cologne he always wears, and your mouth waters when it hits your nostrils. You release your inhale on a sigh.

“I think,” you start as he halts right before you, green eyes smiling downward into yours, “at this point, it’d probably be cheaper to invest in your own bike. You know?”

He purses his lips. “I’m giving back to the community.”

You bark a laugh. “Is that what we’re calling it?”

Harry grins, then leans down to press his mouth to yours in a chaste kiss. “Hi.”

“Hi.” You match his smile and kiss him back. “No bumbag today?” You jest, peering around his waist and hips for any sign of his ‘banana’ bag.

Now it’s his turn to roll his eyes, but it’s all in good fun. “Not today.”

You kiss your teeth. “Shame.”

He takes stock of you then, eyes roaming your bundled up frame. “Are you cold?”

“Just a bit.”

“Should’ve put a scarf on, baby.”

“I know,” you whimper.

“Ready for some food?” He points to the door of the restaurant attached to the venue.

“Yep.”

He saunters past you, snatching your hand up as he goes.

“Harry?”

He halts, turns back to you with a comically expectant look, and lowers himself at the waist until you’re eye-to-eye. “Yes?”

“Got the tickets?”

His expression freezes, and he does this nerve-wracking, panicky pat down of his chest, hips and backside before he relaxes, clicks a finger at you, and says, “On my phone. You can do that these days, you know?” And then pecks the tip of your nose with his lips.

You playfully whack him in the chest. “Fuck off.”

Inside, music is playing at an almost obnoxious level, only made worse by the fact that it’s one of Harry’s old songs.

You say old, because it’s just turned seven. “Aw,” you coo.

Tables upon tables are full of pre-gig goers grabbing a bite, talking loudly and boisterously. Thankfully, one of you was smart enough to book ahead, so when you speak to a host, you’re taken to one of only two free tables and handed over menus.

Dinner is spent sharing stories of your day, exchanging easy banter and casual affectionate touches. You steal food off Harry’s plate when he’s not looking, and he steals food off yours when you are looking without an ounce of shame. Once the bill is paid, you head inside the venue hand-in-hand.

You find a corner out of the way but with a good view from the balcony, and Harry glues himself to your back, arms wrapped tightly around you—taking up position for the rest of the night.

When the band starts, he bobs and sways with you in his arms, singing along to the words while his chin rests on your head. He dances more during the upbeat songs and leaves little kisses to your cheek and neck during the slower, sadder songs, but whatever his mood, he’s infectious, and you can’t help but join in.

At the end of the night you filter out into the cold October night air.

“Your place or mine?” He asks as you wander away from the crowds, his hand still clutching yours tightly.

You pretend to think about it. “Your bed is bigger.”

“That’s always your answer.”

“Then you should know better than to ask.” You give him a saccharine smile.

He pinches your cheek. “Your place is closer.”

“My place is a dump at the moment.”

“When have I ever cared?”

“You should care.”

“I really don’t, though. Mine isn’t exactly tidy either.”

You peer up at him, and he turns an indulgent smile on you.

“Fine,” he concedes. “We can go to mine, but we’re going on a bike.”

“The fuck we are. I’ll go home by myself in that case.” You start walking the opposite way, but Harry drags you back towards him with ease.

“The fuck you will.”

Then, right there in the middle of a still busy London pavement, he cups your cheeks and kisses you. And like the helpless fool you are, you let him.

“I’ll get us an Uber,” he says against your lips.

Your grin is triumphant.

~~~

Peace and love, friends :)

[erwinsvow]

rafe thinks you’re spoiling him.

it doesn’t seem that way to others, maybe, with the obviously pampered way about you—expensive jewelry that floats on your skin and never having to wait more than a few days for something new that’s caught your eye. at first you were awfully shy about it, flushing if he showed up with a new gift before a date and hiding your head in his arm if he offered to buy you the shoes you kept staring at in the store. you’ve grown into it now—which pleases him, a lot—mostly because no one else knows how much you’re spoiling him. 

making sure you have whatever your little heart wants is the least he can do to repay it, he thinks, looking down and into your concerned eyes, your hand resting softly against his chest.

“rafe? did you hear me?” you ask, and he tries to snap out of it, really he does, it’s just getting harder around you. 

“hm?” he murmurs, still a little dazed.

“i think we should stay in tonight,” you repeat, moving your hand so the back of it is flat against his forehead, and then his neck. “you seem warm, i think you’re getting sick.” 

he feels weird, not because of the cold—he already expected that since wheezie and sarah were coughing and sniffling up a storm earlier that week—but from the way you look distraught, just from the idea that he might not be feeling well.

“aren’t your stupid friends comin’ tonight-”

“who cares?” you interrupt, hand coming down to his to guide him upstairs, since you know he won’t budge unless he’s dragged. you get him into bed a little later, running your fingers through his hair until he falls asleep with one hand and canceling your plans with the other. when he wakes up, you’re not there, and he jerks upright, hand reaching for his phone to call you. the door opens and his body relaxes instantly, falling back into the pillows you had arranged carefully for him, bottles of water and gatorade and cough medicine in your hands.

you make him drink it, and you don’t even look grossed out while he’s coughing up green stuff or drooling onto the pillow. he hears your soft laugh and the feel of a damp towel on his skin—and he thinks in his delirium that this must be what getting spoiled feels like.

the next week he’s back in business, at some house party with kelce and topper trying to sell double to make up for being out of commission last week. you float around with your friends, nursing one of those canned seltzers that taste like juice to him but are enough to get you tipsy. when you find him after maybe thirty minutes of being alone you curl up on the couch, your feet settling on his lap and head leaning on the armrest. you are a little drunk—he can tell—but he stares down at you intensely, because he’s a little drunk too. 

he’s thinking some sappy shit, about how pretty you look like this—dolled up and giggly from the alcohol, your short dress showing him lots of soft skin that he wants to kiss. you sit up when his hands move to your knee, focusing on him with that sweet, concerned look. he wishes you wouldn’t—it makes him want to fuck you right here, infront of all these people, because he can’t stand how it makes him feel.

“are you okay?” you ask softly, your own hand resting on his shoulder.

“why wouldn’t i be?” he asks, taking another sip of his drink. you look relieved when he says it.

“nothing. just checking,” and then you lean back again, smiling again. 

you do that again, he notices, a few weeks later—the morning after another party, a longer one. he dropped you at home because he had shit he needed to finish up, but you call him first thing when you wake up. he listens to your calming voice on his phone.

“did you sleep okay?”

“yeah, kid.”

“did you have water yet? and a tylenol?”

“yes, kid.”

“oh-okay. good. i have to check, i worry about you-”

“get your ass ready. takin' you to the store.”

you agree, if not a little tentatively. you worry since you don’t want rafe to think you’re only with him since he spoils you like this, and you tell him as much. 

“y’know, we can just go to the movies. or the beach, i don’t even need more shoes at this point-”

“thought you girls always need more shoes?”

“maybe before i met you, rafe. this is just silly, let’s go get ice cream instead-” he stops your sentence with his hand on your face, fingers squeezing your cheeks together.

“pick out a dress, and let me rip it off later, yeah?” my way of saying thank you. 

“yeah,” you squeak. you pick out the first dress on the rack and wait in anticipation.

[noroi1000]

Their Neighbor (18+)

Summary: You caught your husband cheating. You had it on tape. You went for comfort to your younger friends, students - Satoru and Suguru.And they've always been in love with you...When they knew your relationship was ruined, they saw an opportunity for them.They offered you to make a sex tape for the three of you, and also to prove that you can have fun too.

Dom Gojo x Sub Reader x Dom Geto

Warnings: Smut (sex tape, oral sex, anal sex, threesome, double penetration), cheating, mention of divorce, Strong words

@getosbigballsack

"What do you think is going on there?"

The dark-haired man looked at the white-haired man who was standing by the window, looking at the lights on in your apartment on the other side of the square.

"Probably her husband started arguing again. I wish this would end already. She'll cry for him again..."

You lived in an apartment building. Where in the middle was a small square with three entrances.

They lived on one side. You and your husband lived across the street.

These were expensive apartments.

Well, you were married to a famous lawyer. He hasn't lost a case in court in several years. It was very bad at first. But over the years, he made it. He started getting rich, that's why you live in an apartment. On the same floor as them.

They are younger. students. However, the Gojo family gave them an apartment so they wouldn't have to live in a dorm or some other bad apartment.

That's why they have a suite.

When they just moved in there, they met your husband. Someone not very nice.

He was busy with work. They also heard rumors that he previously had trust issues with clients because he was a terrible womanizer.

However, he later married to avoid bad talk about him.

You were the housewife. He was working and told you to be at home.

You spent your days peacefully. That's why when you found out that someone new moved in there, you didn't want to be rude.

And you hoped you'd meet them someday.

Once, when you were in the square, you met them. Two young men who have moved in here and are students. A little younger than you. You couldn't forget their eyes when they looked at you. so nice. You thought young people like them would be mean and you wouldn't care.

However, they approached you and started talking to you. Why? Because they once saw you through the window walking beside your husband. Him, still with the phone in his hand. You, you walked beside him in silence. Even if there was love between you, perhaps there is less of it once.

It was just what they thought it was. And they were very observant.

People could believe it or not, but they felt something that you were a very interesting person. You were nice and sweet. You smiled gracefully at them as they offered to carry your groceries from the car to your house.

For your help, you gave them a fruitcake that you baked. You told them you didn't want to throw it away, and your husband said he wouldn't eat the cake because he's allergic to certain fruits. Even though he didn't even know what was there.

That's why you fed your new neighbors. Gojo was very pleased with your baking skills. And you said that since you're married to your husband, you don't have much to do.

You promised them you'd bake them cakes when you had time.

At least they appreciated your work.

You've become more like friends since then.

You spent time together when you all had nothing to do.

Sometimes you visited them, sometimes they visited you. It was connected by mutual emotions. Because you liked each other.

You felt relieved when you spent time with them. Because your husband started ignoring you more and more.

Both they and you noticed that he was coming home from work later and later. Plus, he used to piss you off sometimes. Which just showed he wasn't interested in you anymore.

You came to them once for comfort. Without explicitly showing that you need comfort. You took your husband's favorite cake you had baked and left the house. Just so you don't go to them empty-handed .

And they took you home.

Well, their house wasn't what you expected.

You expected scattered socks and underwear. A bit of a mess.

But they had a nice house.

Compared to your husband's office in yours. There was begging all the time. He made you clean up there, and when you cleaned it up, your husband yelled at you for throwing away some very important papers.

And then he went to "work" because you made him start all over again. And apparently he had a lot more peace in his office than he did at home with you.

According to Gojo, who has passed by his office more than once, he does not need peace in his office. He needs his secretary who is always by his side. During breaks at work, they go out for lunch together, they act like a couple.

Your heart was almost broken when you heard that.

You didn't know why Satoru would lie. He is very observant. Besides, they study near his office. That's why they go there.

You've found out the hard way that your husband has a slutty secretary dressed more like a prostitute than a secretary in a law firm.

You gave your neighbors a lift because you had to go to your husband's. Because he forgot his briefcase from home. So you took them along, by the way, since you were on your way.

And when you got in the car after taking his things, you started to get nervous behind the wheel. When you drove off to park near the school, instead of getting out, they started worrying about you.

They asked what happened to you. And when you told them that they were right that your husband might be cheating on you, they found a chance to win your heart.

Because you were their lovely neighbor. So nice and hurt by her husband every time.

They were already hopelessly in love with you. That's why there was this reaction.

They said that they thought you were much prettier than that secretary.

They made you blush, but their cute and comforting smiles stole your heart.

Young, flirty men are your neighbors.

They are the ones who gave you courage.

When you went to your friend's birthday one day, he installed cameras in the house. To be sure that nothing will happen.

Instead of having fun with your friend all evening perfectly, you just had a good time. You were afraid of catching your husband cheating.

You were trying to have fun. And even after you drank some wine, you texted Satoru and Suguru.

They knew you went to a birthday party. And after you sent them heart stickers, they knew you had something to drink.

Alcohol gives courage. But it also causes stupid behavior.

When you came home, a little drunk from what you did with your friend, you found your husband in bed.

Lucky you didn't take your car to go to your friend's. You came by taxi.

It wasn't that late, but it was already dark.

Out of habit, you looked at the windows of your neighbors apartment.

As always, they were still awake.

You didn't go over to your husband to say hello.

You just saw him lying under the covers and snoring softly.

Alcohol makes you brave, but it also causes stupid behavior...

These cameras were to be installed for at least a few weeks. And then you would review the recordings.

However, the few glasses of wine you drank made you check the recordings from tonight on your laptop.

You've been scrolling through footage from the kitchen, the bathroom, and the madhouse. Nothing new. Just your husband who lies lazily and doesn't have the strength to even get up from the couch to open the door.

But when you saw who came to him in your absence, you had no doubts...

He's cheating on you!

You turned on the bedroom video to see your husband fucking his secretary. In your house. In your bed!

Without wasting time watching the abomination, you took the icy water in the jug and poured it over your sleeping husband, who jumped out of bed as he felt the cold against his skin.

And here is another proof of treason.

He slept naked. There was a condom next to the bed, and there were scratches from his fingernails on his arms.

Can he ever please a woman?

He started screaming and so did you.

You knew the neighbors around would hear anything.

Meanwhile, your friends saw your figure behind the curtain as they looked and the window.

A curtain on which there was a light shadow.

"What do you think is going on there?"

The dark-haired man looked at the white-haired man who was standing by the window, looking at the lights on in your apartment on the other side of the square.

"Probably her husband started arguing again. I wish this would end already. She'll cry for him again..."

"It's not like I don't like being able to comfort her and spend time with her... But I'm sick of this asshole doing this to her. She probably found out he was cheating on her."

Suddenly they saw you open the window and throw his work laptop onto the sidewalk.

Then he started yelling at you.

And when Geto saw how he raised his hand on you, he left the house, running to the opposite entrance to the building.

He started ringing the doorbell quickly and firmly.

Until after a minute, your husband opened it, in a robe.

His skin was wet as he stared at the taller, younger boy.

"We apologize for the noise at night. We need to sort things out..." your husband said.

"Where is (y/n)?" he asked, looking around for him.

"Suguru-kun?"

Your husband turned to glare at you.

Well, before he told you to leave the house, you said you were leaving.

And now you were taking your things that you will need.

Your husband didn't hit you. You hit him. You kicked him in the crotch with all your might. And when he took his laptop to show you the "section of the law" about recording without consent, you threw his laptop out the window, telling him how illegal it is by law to cheat on your spouse.

If you're going to get a divorce, you have the perfect reasons.

And you have even more to get him to let go, and no one took his side during the trial. All the things he said when his mistress was with him? He bribed other lawyers to misdefend their clients! That's what he's famous for!

Plus you have a video of him in your bed with his lover! Who will go to such a lawyer? A lawyer who cheats on his wife?

He divorces because of infidelity! And now he's betraying himself!

You pushed your husband out of the doorway to walk out with your bag in hand.

You'll be back for the rest of your stuff soon.

"Are you okay?" the dark haired man in the bun asked you as he placed his hand on your back, shielding you from your husband's gaze as he stopped behind you.

"Yeah." you replied, breathing to calm yourself down.

As you went up the stairs he took your bag, carrying it for you.

"What happened?"

"He was cheating on me... Just like that..." you said, doing your best to keep your emotions from exploding.

"I'm sorry I asked..."

"That's fine. You were right."

"Where are you going now?"

"I was planning to go to my friend's for the night. I'll think of something else in the morning."

"Come to us."

You stopped and turned to look at him.

"We have quite a lot of space. Therefore, it will not be a problem for you to stay with us. And we also have no problem for you to stay longer."

"Suguru-kun..."

"Come on... We're friends. Besides, your husband will be able to see that you're doing well without him."

His hand pushed your back lightly in encouragement.

You rubbed your eyes because you thought salt water was already gathering there.

"Fine..." You replied, walking right next to him as he led you down the familiar road to their apartment.

"The door is already wide open for you. Entrance always for you."

As you were walking up the stairs, you saw Satoru at the door when it was open.

He waved his hand towards the entrance.

You smiled slightly, rubbing your eyes again.

White-haired hands appeared on your shoulders as you walked inside.

"You can always rely on us. We are at your disposal." he said happily.

They always helped you... And you gave them cake for it...

They were always there for you when you needed them...

That's why you wanted to cry.

Because of what your husband did to you...

What you've been through right now...

Before your neighbors are so sweet and help you...

Suddenly tears appeared on your cheeks and they started to panic.

"He betrayed me... What should I do now? I left the house... I'm going to get a divorce... I want him to have it worse than me... But I'll have to suffer…”

"(y/n), it's not your fault he's a complete asshole. You are cute and kind. The fact that he did it just shows what a son of a bitch he is. He had the best wife in the world, and he did it anyway. We would never do that to you." Satoru's fingers brushed your cheeks before blushing a little, you clung to his chest, snuggling against him.

He bent down to pick you up and took you to the couch.

You sat sideways on his lap, cuddling up to him.

Your calves were placed on Suguru's thighs as he sat down next to his friend.

"We'll help you plan what to do next. For him to regret. Did you catch him?" Suguru asked.

"Cameras in house..." you moaned softly as your face was buried in white man's chest.

"Do you have cameras oh! A sex tape about cheating..." the white-haired man muttered. "Do you have it? We can use it somehow."

You pointed to the bag with your things.

Geto reached over to pull out your laptop. And after a very short time of searching, he turned on the video that was there.

You turned away because you didn't want to see it.

"Fake orgasm." White Hair said at one point as he saw your husband's secretary squirm beneath him.

You might have guessed some strange comments...

Suguru sat silently and watched.

"Oh fuck, he has a bush... Was he even able to please you? Our dicks are bigger!" He said rubbing your back. "He doesn't know what a shaver is? Holy shit, such hair even on the balls is probably like nettles..."

You wanted to laugh at his comment.

"I haven't been in bed with him in two months." you said as your cheek rested against his shoulder.

"Admit it, all sex with him is fake orgasms."

"...Actually, most of the time..." You replied.

Geto laughed.

"Eeewww, man no... Tie it at least... Bleh... Who sane doesn't tie condoms when they take them off?! I can't look at this... He can't do anything before sex, during sex and after sex..."

"And now he'll probably go to sleep." The dark-haired man chuckled.

They both looked at the video.

Your husband suddenly lay down on the bed under the covers and fell asleep.

"He did." he laughed.

"Your husband is pussy..."

You looked at Satoru's mouth as he spoke.

Has he always had a mouth like that? So tempting?

You looked away not to think about it.

"We may share this to damage his reputation at work."

You looked at the dark haired man with your laptop on your lap.

You will have no consequences.

There are a lot of porn videos on the internet.

Revenge on your husband?

Yeah.

"Do it..." you said calmly.

Your eyes are slightly red from the tears you shed earlier.

"Are you sure?" he asked with a smile.

"Yeah."

Without much thought, the dark-haired man uploaded the video to a website and shared it.

Soon this video will also reach your husband. Many people in the city will recognize him.

That your husband will be embarrassed is a little comforting.

However, that didn't change anything in your shattered heart.

You loved your husband. Even though it was less and less as the weeks went by, you still tried to love him.

And now you've lost your husband. You're going to get a divorce for sure, and you have no one to comfort you except them.

However, you are very happy to have them. Because they as your friends and your neighbors knew a lot about you. And they were able to take care of your well-being.

Your legs were on one of Suguru's thighs as he closed the laptop and put it back in your bag.

"How long ago did you have good sex?" Gojo asked suddenly.

You looked at him blushing.

"Because you know... Sex will give you some relief."

"Satoru-kun...?"

"It's not like I'm suggesting you start fuck guys you like."

"What Satoru means is that good sex will de-stress you. But if you do it with just anyone, you'll ruin your reputation, and your husband will be in a winning position when he finds out."

With Suguru's explanation, it makes a little more sense now...

"We don't want him to feel good about you being outraged that he had sex. So why don't you do the same?"

You looked questioningly at Suguru.

They acted like they were reading each other's minds, and they both meant the same thing.

"You can make a sex tape, and in order not to give your husband the satisfaction of your unpleasantness in life, you can show him how good you felt at the time."

Her eyes widened and you blushed.

"...I don't know if that's a good idea... Besides... I'm not going to find a single guy who's going to make a sex tape for me..."

"Maybe there won't be one. But there are already two." Satoru pointed at both of them with his thumbs.

You suddenly got off his lap.

"Hold on... Are you serious? Or just joking?" You raised your hands almost defensively.

Defense against their prank? Or defense against their true words?

"Why should we be joking?" Geto muttered, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Y-You..."

"If you want to make a sex tape, we are at your disposal."

You looked at the white haired boy's slight smile.

They're not joking...

Are they really asking you to make a sex tape with them?

Do they like you at all?

Since your husband preferred his secretary, maybe that's the problem with you?

"No rush. We don't have to do this if you don't want to. However, remember us if you ever need a break from it all."

"Suguru is right. You don't have to agree, but if you change your mind, we'll be waiting for you. We've been waiting since we first met."

You widened your eyes as he said that.

They've been waiting for you since you first met?

Does it mean what you think?

Have they fallen in love with you?

Or maybe they just want to fuck you?

No... If that's all they wanted, they'd have tried to do it from the start... It's something else... They're always there when you need them. They do everything for you...

Even now they offer you something to forget what happened.

And later so you can show your husband that you had even more fun than you did with him.

"Are you really serious?"

"Yeah."

"...I want to do it..."

You said, convincing yourself to be firm with your words.

They told you that you'd need lube if you really wanted to have fun with them.

Even though you were already wet from their foreplay, they convinced you that you would need more.

You were lying on the bed as Suguru's fingers disappeared inside you and he applied lubricant all over your pussy.

Satoru was standing next to him. Hand on his cock under his boxers while he held the camera in the other hand to zoom in on his friend's work on your pussy.

You moaned as you watched them do whatever they wanted to your body.

At first, they had to convince you that you turned them on. Because you're older and have a husband. And they are students. So you thought they might prefer college girls.

But they started taking your clothes off, kissing you and touching you. To rub against you.

Squeeze your soft breasts and buttocks.

Slightly rocking your hips and their penises underneath your pants rubbing against your body in an erotic way.

You blushed when you saw them shirtless. So muscular... It was really sexy...

"Did you set up the camera correctly?" The dark haired man asked as he looked at the white haired man's smile.

"And what do you think?" he asked as his hand tightened slightly at his length.

The dark-haired man looked at him silently with a small smile, and then he took one of the closed condoms and slowly tore the foil, wrapping it around his thick shaft.

You were staring at the erotic scene in front of you.

Are you really going to fuck your neighbors?

You're their haunted neighbor... Should you?

You have a husband...

Fuck your husband! You hate him! And they want to do it with you! If they didn't want to, they wouldn't be so horny... Right?

You want to do it with them... You like them so much... And if they say they've been waiting for you... For now...

Suddenly you felt a movement on your finger. And you watched as Satoru's fingers take your wedding ring off his finger.

"You don't need that." He chuckled as he tossed the gold ring over his shoulder onto the floor.

It fell somewhere in the room and you doubt you'll find it soon.

He walked over to the camera stand he was holding and mounted it there, perfectly aimed at you.

You looked at the lens, seeing a red light that indicates that the camera is recording.

Suguru spread your thighs tighter as he massaged the length with his wet hand, adjusting the condom a bit so it wouldn't fall off for sure.

You felt the bed sag beside you and looked at White Hair's thigh next to your head as he sat up.

Smiling, he lifted your arms, placing your head on his thigh.

And your hand reached out to start massaging the smooth skin on his shaft.

As you focused on White Hair's hand on your chest, you felt Suguru nudge your entrance. And you let out a calming exhale to let your body relax.

What was about to happen is just beginning...

His fingers guided the tip into your pussy mouth, feeling the tight warmth around it.

He hummed as he thrust deeper into you.

Now you understand why he gave you lube... Even though you were so wet, you could have guessed that they would be afraid that you couldn't make it.

Because even without comparing their dicks, you understand their difference. Satoru is longer and Suguru is wider... But they're both big... Satoru is wide  enough anyway. And Suguru is so long.

Even though their bodies don't look like their sizes are off scale. They are just big men.

And from the beginning they exuded the energy of a big dick...

And now you will feel their big cocks on your body...

You arched your back as you felt his hips touch yours.

After a while, his hips began to move, and you felt him slide on the wetness inside.

And the tip of Satoru appeared at your mouth as he encouraged you to part your lips for him.

Once you realized that with Suguru's thrusts you would need to silence his moans, you opened your mouth for him, listening to him purr from the warmth of your tongue.

The tip and piece of his cock in your mouth, sending pleasant vibrations to his veined skin from the moans you pour from your throat.

And all because the wide cock of one of your neighbors is getting stuck in your pussy.

You were as tight as he thought...

"You should try that pussy later too, Satoru... So tight and willing..." He moaned to his friend, while Satoru enjoyed your warm lips.

He pressed himself closer to you, staying in place for a moment. And your legs trembled from feeling too full.

Everything is clearly visible on the camera.

A dick disappearing inside you, a dick in your mouth.

Their hands on your body.

Oh yeah, it's gonna be a great sex tape for them.

Perfect shots so they can watch it later.

As Gojo entered your mouth more, Geto's hips sped up, hitting your body harder.

The saliva in your mouth spilled onto your cheek as he kept his hand on your head, moving you along his length. His fingers collected your saliva from your cheek.

They smiled at each other before Gojo looked at the camera, sending the same smile as he held it to your lips.

As his friend's thrusts grew stronger, he pulled the tip out of your mouth before you could bite him.

Your jaw clenched as you suppressed moans by closing your mouth.

They laughed when they saw your face.

Your hands gripped Satoru's body as you sought some support to hold on to.

"You're sweet..." the white-haired man muttered. He grabbed your hands, holding you as you needed.

Who would have thought that one dick could make you such a mess...

They were curious how you would take two dicks.

The way his cock was wide was indescribable... You felt pressure on your G-spot as he moved. He stretched you so that his shaft pressed into your most sensitive places.

Satoru's hand reached between your legs, his fingers dancing over your clit.

And the white haired man's fingers let go as he saw his friend's frown as you trembled beneath him, clenching on him as orgasm washed over your body.

He left your walls looking at the mess your pussy has become.

"It's the first time you had an orgasm like this?" he asked with a small smile.

Your body reacted just like that.

Your husband probably couldn't please you so much.

"You promised me her pussy. Then give it to me." The white-haired man chuckled as he released your hands and Suguru lifted your body to turn you around.

The next time you opened your slightly watery eyes, you were lying on Satoru's chest.

As his tip insistently rubs against your entrance.

"I will do it raw. Suguru, take off the condom. Let's go on her raw."

They both laughed, and the dark haired man tugged on the rubber on his penis to take it off.

While he was at it, Satoru thrust into you, his tip kissing your deepest parts.

"The feeling without the condom is so much better..." he murmured as he felt your walls tighten around him. "Suguru... Let's do this..."

You heard a bottle and splashing. And then a big drop of something cold on your ass.

Two fingers stretching you. A little discomfort neutralized by the pleasant feeling of the cock inside you.

And the next moment, as you lay on his chest, you felt something much wider stretching your ass.

And its length slowly and gently pushes into your prepared ass.

Your body still and trembling when you couldn't move. Tears streaming from your eyes as you felt excessive feelings in your lower body.

Satoru's hands stroke your back reassuringly as you swing your hips out for them to give them more access.

For your and their pleasure.

They show you that they are so much better than your husband. In everything that can be.

"Our sex tape could be a lot longer than that, right? Baby? Let's have a nice fun~."

[flkwh0re]

can I request a sugar mommy nat fic? w some phone sex and princess treatment :3

The Office

SugarMommy! Natasha x Reader

(this is how I imagine sugar mommy Natasha who loves you so much but when she gets stressed she just uses you to your fullest as a stress reliever)

W/c: 1k

A/n: Not phone sex cuz I cannot write that to save my life, but office sex is better!!

Warnings: mommy kink (Nat), strap on usage, breast worship, office sex, pussy slapping.

——————————⧗ᗢ——————————

“But Nat what if your workers catch us.” You protested. “Don’t worry baby, no one will come in my office. Mommy needs you.”

Natasha had requested you make her lunch and bring it to her, and so you did. You would do anything for that woman. It all started when you met her at one of Tony Starks work parties.

A place where rich men and woman all gather to just blow their riches on expensive beverages, gambling, etc. Tony had allowed you to work one of the event in hopes to make a little extra cash.

You were a struggling college student, taking any job you could get; even though you already had one.

That was until you met Natasha Romanoff. A woman who had an abundance amount of cash, so much you could barley fathom someone having. It started as you just fulfilling her needs with sex, but it later turned into a different relationship.

Natasha confessed her love for you, after you had been seeing her for a few months. At first you were insecure with it, and felt like you were just using her for the money. You later felt content with yourself because you genuinely loved her.

Once word had gotten out about your relationship with Nat, things got very hectic very quickly. The media attention was almost too much to bear, but you never went out alone without Natasha.

“As long as we can lock the door.” Natasha chuckled at your worry, “You can lock the door honey.” You straightened up from your spot on Nat’s desk that you were leaning on.

Once you had locked the door your scurried back over to Natasha, sinking down onto her lap. Your lips hastily linked with hers, and her hands ventured your body.

They eventually found the belt loops of your jeans, linking and tugging slightly at the material. Your hands slipped around Natasha’s neck, pulling her impossibly close as the kiss became more and more heated.

Your hips began to grind down onto her skirt clad thighs. “Let’s get this shirt off, shall we?” Natasha asked as she tugged the hem of your shirt, then slipped it over your body.

“Hmm, wearing my favorite lacy bra? Seems like you were ready to beg mommy to fuck you baby. Were you?” You nod, “Yes mommy, I need you so bad.”

She faux pouted by slipping her bottom lip out, humming softly. But she really pitied you, you spent all morning preparing her a delicious meal so of course she had to pay you back.

“Sit on my desk baby.” She said softly, helping you stand up. Her hands slipped around your back and unclasped your bra, her lips momentarily pressed against yours again.

Her cold hands massaged your soft breast lightly, nipples hardening at her cold touch. Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip, lightly tugging before slipping her tongue past your lips.

She swallowed your moans as they left your lips when she’d twist and tug on your buds. As soon as her lips left yours, they wrapped around your nipples. Her teeth grazing the nubs, making you squirm.

“Mommy please, I need you.” You whined. With your beg, her fingers fumbled with the button of your jeans. She tugged them off you, admiring the panties that matched the bra you previously had on.

She slipped the lace off your body, her hands softly met your thighs as she moved them apart. Her nimble fingers softly grazed over your clit, pressing down slightly to give you a little pressure.

She slipped her ring finger into your aching cunt, shortly after she added a second. Your head was thrown back as she thrust her fingers in and out of you. Curling then to reach the spots you most wanted to be.

You wrapped your legs tightly around her waist, earning a harsh slap to your pussy. One thing about Natasha is she had to have full control, nothing could be there to hold her in place.

As her dominant hand thrust her digits into your pussy, her other hand toyed with your clit. Sending you spiraling, and soon to your orgasm.

She removed her hand from you, licking away and tasting your arousal. “Wait here.” She demanded before walking to the room attached to her office.

She walked back with a strap attached to her hips. Natasha helped you bend over her desk, her strong arms holding you up.

She ran the tip of the faux dick through your cunt, slipping the end into you. She teased at your hole, then slipped the full length in.

“Fuck detka, taking mommy’s cock so well.” She rasped into the shell of your ear, you could hear the animalistic haste in her voice.

She began to snap her hips back and forth, the length of the dick filling you full. It was almost too much for you to bear, but you took it to satisfy her. That’s all you ever wanted to do, no one had ever loved you like Natasha.

“Mommy I’m gonna cum! Please let me cum, oh fuck!” You screamed as she slammed her hips into yours, and her hands gripped the sides of your lower back. “Cmon detka, cum on mommy’s cock. Let go for me sweetheart.”

Natasha watched as your cum began to gush out with each thrust from her. “Fuck detka, you did so good. Wait here.” Natasha walked off, then returned with a towel and her skirt back on.

She cleaned up your thighs and wiped the sweat off your forehead. “Here, put these on instead of your jeans.” She handed you a pair of sweats, and you kissed her cheek as a thanks.

“Do you have a lot more work Natty?” You asked as you redressed yourself. “Not much, why?” Natasha questioned.

“I was just hoping that before I went back home we could cuddle up for a bit on the couch.” You said, and a smile adorned her face. “I’d love that.”

Masterlist

[rosenclaws]

Hello😸 I saw that you have requests open and I’m still on that Leopold high‼️

So, could I request a little something where Leo is jealous of the attention Reader is getting and tries to get their attention back on him?

(I’d prefer if Reader was gender neutral but fem is fine too‼️)

a/n: omg jealous leo is sooo cute. That scene in the movie where he gets jealous of Kate's boss is too good. I took a lot of inspiration from that. Also there is a lot of wine talk in this and I do not know anything about wine so don't come for me for incorrect wine information okay

warnings: no pronouns used for the reader, jealous leo, asshole corporate guy

Leopold has been exposed to many unbelievable things in the past year. Time travel, television, cell phones, and the worst of all. Frozen food trays. However what Leopold isn’t used to is this feeling twisting and turning inside of his stomach. Jealously. The collar of his shirt starts to itch uncomfortably, not quite used to the wear of the 21st century. Business casual as you had called it.

He had been to many parties back in his time but they were nothing like they are now. This was no party to him. As you had explained they were more for celebrating themselves and showing off how successful the company. Still what kind of boyfriend would he be if he didn't accompany you. Ever the gentleman he is as he leads you through the crowd of people.

He had offered to get drinks as you go and mingle. With two glasses of wine in his hands he made his way back to you. Only to find you trapped in a conversation with a man he had never heard of before. He can feel his jaw clench as he slides right next to you. Handing you your drink and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"Oh Leopold this is Mason," Leopold's eyes narrow as he notices Mason look him up and down, a smug look in his eye.

"You're the butter commercial guy." Mason says with a smirk. You feel Leopold tense slightly but he flashes his smile and reaches his hand out.

"Yes, and you are?" Leopold grips his hand a little too tight as they shake hands. You place your hand on Leopold's arm as you butt back into the conversation.

"He's new-"

"I'm the new director of marketing." He cuts you off and Leopold feels anger bubbling inside of him. Before either of you or Leopold could speak he starts talking.

Dominating the conversation with stories of how successful he's been and all the wonderful things he's done. He can't help but feel the jealously build in his gut. Your attention is on this arrogant man who is clearly trying to court you despite Leopold standing right next to you.

"You know, to be in marketing you need to have a certain, charisma about you." He glances over at you and flashes a smile. He takes a sip of his champagne and grimaces.

"Of course they got the cheap stuff, back home I have bottles of the finest wine. A bottle of champagne called La Romanée from 1873. Expensive yes but I would be happy to share. Maybe come back to my place and I'll show you." Leopold chuckles which makes Mason look to him.

"Something funny?" Leopold looks at him with a sudden confidence.

"No no. Just that from my memory that wine is from 1870 and it's pinot noir, not a champagne." Leopold raises an eyebrow as Mason starts to stammer.

"I think you've got your information wrong. My guy is a very reputable wine seller." He has a false confidence about him that Leopold can see right through. He grins, taking a sip of his own wine. He knows he isn't.

"I would contact your merchant, but perhaps I am mistaken." The damage is done as Mason starts to turn red from anger. Leopold takes a step closer. He's a polite man but he even he has his limits.

"I must add, that attempting to court someone who is already taken really is in poor taste. Simply put, you're making a fool of yourself." Mason mumbles something under his breath before stalking away in defeat. You finally let out the laugh that you had been holding in. Relieved that you were finally alone with Leo for the night.

"What a dick." You huff as pull Leopold to the side of the room.

"Didn't think you were the jealous type." You tease as Leopold starts to calm down. He sees Mason go over to what appeared to be a very important group of people. A sense of guilt washes over him. An egotistical, dick as you put it, he may be but he was still an important figure at your company.

"Forgive me if I have overstepped my place. I fear that jealously had blinded me and I acted out of line." You place your hand on top of his, gently squeezing his hand.

"You didn't, he's your typical asshole corporate higher up. It was nice seeing someone put him in his place a little." Also seeing him jealous was hot. But you'll tell him that later. You lean in and kiss him on the cheek.

"How do you know so much about wine?" He shrugs and places his now empty glass down.

"I visited Bordeaux in my youth before moving to New York." You stare at him in awe, his life before he met you was constantly surprising you.

"I want to hear more." You slowly start dragging him to the exit.

"Let's ditch this party and go home. I have a bottle of wine I got for 20 bucks that I'd be happy to share." You say, mocking the words that Mason had said to you. Leopold laughs as he places a hand on your back, guiding you away from the party.

"It's no fancy wine from France but I hope it will do." Once you're clear of the door he gently presses you against the wall. Capturing your lips in a gentle kiss.

"The best wine is any I get to share with you." He says sincerely, brushing his thumb across your lips.

He kisses you again. The sound of footsteps pass by but he could care less. A small part of him wanting to show that you are his and he is yours. He can't help it. Anyone with you in their life would feel the same way. Too bad for them, your his now.

His and no one else's.

[kayewrite]

Unseen Barriers

Felix x reader!! felix x fem reader!! skz yongbok x reader!! word count: 5.5k

a stray kids fic wherein You have feelings for Felix. But Felix, despite being aware, remains determined not to reciprocate for a reason.

(or a forbidden love between you and felix)

an: i know i promised for part 2 of some of my works. but then i posted another fic again, i just cant help it as i read it in my drafts. please i love this soo damn much. so please love this also as much as i love it.)

It was Valentine’s Day, and Felix sighed as he stared at his locker overflowing with flowers, letters, and chocolates. He knelt down to pick up the ones that had fallen, his expression void of any excitement. It wasn’t that he was boastful about receiving so many presents—far from it. The weight of unreciprocated affection made him sigh again, knowing that he couldn’t return the feelings that so many people had for him.

As he organized his things, a girl shyly approached, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear when Felix’s indifferent gaze fell on her.

“Uh, Felix…” she began, her voice wavering, “I accidentally bought two tickets for the movie tonight, and I don’t have anyone to give the extra to. Do you want to come with me?”

“That’s nice of you, but I’m sorry. I have something to do tonight.” His tone was polite but detached, making it clear that there was no room for negotiation.

“Oh… okay.” The disappointment in her voice was unmistakable. “But, um, could you at least take this cookie? I baked it with love.”

Felix’s eyes flicked to the cookie, then back to her. “You should share it with your friends,” he replied flatly, his gaze briefly shifting to the group of girls peeking from behind a nearby wall. Without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving the girl to stand there, clutching her cookie with a crestfallen expression.

Felix didn’t like taking advantage of those who liked him. It was better to let them down early than to let their hopes build up, even if it meant being distant. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets as he headed back to his classroom, his mind already shifting to the next task when a sudden shout echoed down the hallway.

“Oh my god, she’s here!”

Felix glanced up briefly, noticing the shift in the hallway’s atmosphere as all eyes turned to you. He merely shrugged, relieved that, for once, the attention was no longer on him. He slipped away quietly, grateful for the distraction.

Back in the classroom, Felix focused on writing down everything the professor said, his concentration broken only when his phone vibrated in his pocket. He glanced at the screen, noting the sender's name—“Little Boss”—and dismissed it, returning to his notes. But when the phone buzzed again with another message, he reluctantly read it:

Come to the garden. I have something to give you. -

He ignored it, but when his phone rang for the third time, Felix sighed, realizing it wouldn’t stop until he responded. He excused himself from the classroom, and the professor nodded without hesitation. Felix was known as a diligent student, a model for others, so his rare requests to leave class were never questioned.

“What do you want?” Felix’s voice was colder than the crisp air of the garden as he found you admiring the roses.

“You’re late,” you noted, turning to face him with a gentle smile.

“Because I knew this wasn’t important.” His words were like ice, cutting through the warmth of your gesture.

Your smile faltered, but you quickly pushed the hurt aside, stepping closer to him. You thrust a paper bag into his hands, forcing him to take it.

“This is expensive,” Felix remarked, his tone more of an accusation than gratitude.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t steal money from my dad again. I worked hard to buy it, so just take it.”

Felix sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that day. He knew arguing with you was pointless. You were stubborn, and no matter what he said, you’d do things your way.

“You should go back to class,” he said, his voice devoid of any warmth. He turned to leave, eager to put this interaction behind him, but you stopped him with a soft, “Wait.”

He paused, but the impatience was clear in his eyes as he turned back to you.

Gently, you plucked a rose from the bush, you were the one who planted it there, and slipped it into the pocket of his uniform jacket, your fingers brushing against the fabric. “Now you can go,” you said with a small smile, as if the gesture could melt the wall he had built between you.

Felix’s expression remained unreadable as he walked back to his locker, the paper bag hanging loosely from his hand. He opened the locker and stared at the box someone had placed near it—a gift from a janitor who had grown tired of cleaning up the endless cascade of letters and chocolates.

Felix opened the paper bag you gave. Inside was an expensive pair of shoes, the exact ones he had been eyeing but couldn’t afford. His chest tightened with a mix of emotions he didn’t want to acknowledge. This was too much. He couldn’t accept something like this, not from you.

He quickly gathered the rest of the gifts from his locker, piling them into the box. But when he glanced at the paper bag and the rose you had given him, Felix hesitated. He placed the items carefully inside his locker, closing the door with a soft click.

-

It was time to head home. Felix slung his bag over his left shoulder, letting it hang casually as he walked towards the school gate with both hands buried deep in his pockets. He paused near the entrance, his eyes following you as you got into a car. Once you were out of sight, he continued his walk to the bus stop, the familiar route offering little solace.

As he waited for the bus, he found himself absentmindedly staring out into the distance, lost in thought. The bus arrived, and Felix took his usual seat near the window, watching the city blur by as he made his way to your address.

Arriving at your family’s mansion, Felix smiled at the guard stationed at the entrance, offering a polite greeting before stepping inside the expansive grounds. The pathway to the mansion was lined with lush greenery, the carefully tended plants and flowers giving the place an almost paradisiacal feel. He nodded in acknowledgment to the gardener trimming the trees and his wife sweeping up the fallen leaves, their warm smiles a welcome and Felix smiled like a sunshine he was.

The mansion loomed in the distance, its grandeur almost oppressive. Despite its size, it felt empty to Felix—a hollow shell filled with wealth but devoid of warmth.

Felix didn’t head toward the main house, though. Instead, he walked to the smaller house near the garden, where he and his mother lived. As he stepped inside, he was greeted by the comforting scent of home.

"My son is here," his mother said with a bright smile, wrapping him in a tight hug. Felix held her close, his heart swelling with the comfort of being home. He pulled out a bouquet of flowers hidden under table near them, carefully arranged with blooms he had picked from the garden the day before.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

His mother’s eyes welled up with tears as she accepted the bouquet, her voice thick with emotion. “Aw, thank you, my son. I love you so much.”

Felix felt a warmth spread through him as he hugged her again, this time even tighter. He knew how much his mother had sacrificed, and he was determined to give her the world one day.

His mother had been working as a cleaner for your family since Felix was seven, a job she had taken after his father’s business went bankrupt. When his father ran from their responsibilities, leaving them in financial ruin, Felix’s mother sold everything they owned to pay off the debts. The job with your family had been a lifeline, allowing them to survive.

Felix had grown up in your mansion, helping out where he could, especially in the kitchen, where his knack for cooking quickly became apparent. It was during those moments in the kitchen that you first noticed him. He was just a boy back then, but something about his quiet determination and gentle kindness drew you in.

At first, you and Felix became close because you were the same age and both felt lonely in the huge, empty mansion. The house, no matter how grand, felt cold and quiet when your parents were away on business trips, which happened a lot. Felix, who worked at the mansion and lived in a small house on the property with his mother, was a comforting presence. He kept you company, told you stories, and filled the silence with laughter. You spent hours together, finding comfort in each other's company.

But when your mother found out about your friendship with Felix, she was furious. She had always been strict and powerful, and her anger seemed to grow even worse. One evening, she barged into your room, her face full of rage.

“How dare you?” she yelled. “How dare you spend time with someone like him?”

Felix, who had always been kind and respectful, suddenly became the target of her wrath. She saw him as a threat to her carefully managed image and status. To her, Felix was just a poor worker who didn’t belong in her world.

“You will never see him again,” she said, her voice cold. “If you keep this up, I’ll have him kicked out of school and make sure he pays for it.”

Her threats were harsh. She made it clear that if Felix stayed in your life, she would use her influence to ruin him. She promised to take away his scholarship, get him removed from the mansion, and make sure his family suffered. Her power was strong, and the fear she created was real.

Felix, struggling to make ends meet, knew how serious the situation was. He realized that being friends with someone like you, someone from a different world, was too risky. The gap between your lives was too big, and the consequences of defying your mother were too severe. He understood that her threats were real and could destroy not only his future but also his family���s well-being.

Felix saw that you had feelings for him, and even though you were willing to risk everything, he knew it was a fight he couldn’t win. Despite your determination to stand up for him, Felix knew he had to protect you from the fallout. He tried to explain that your worlds were too different and that staying friends was not possible. His words were harsh, and he acted cold, but it was all to keep you from getting hurt.

You didn’t want to listen to his warnings. You were determined to fight for him, believing that love could overcome anything. But Felix, knowing the real dangers and the threats hanging over both of you, stayed firm. He pushed you away to keep you safe, even if it meant hurting you.

The mansion, once warm with your friendship, became a place of silence and sadness. Felix’s absence left a big gap, a constant reminder of how love alone couldn’t overcome the differences between your worlds. The friendship you had was broken by the harsh realities of power and social class, leaving you with the painful lesson that sometimes, beautiful things are destroyed by forces beyond your control. You were both only ten years old at the time.

Now, seven years later, you stood at your bedroom window, watching Felix as he trimmed the plants in your garden. He was still the same Felix—kind-hearted and hardworking—but there was a distance between you now, a coldness that hadn’t been there before. It hurt more than you wanted to admit.

Felix sensed your presence but didn’t look up. He focused on his work, pretending not to notice you watching him.

“Felix!” you finally called out after watching him in silence for nearly twenty minutes.

He lifted his head and met your gaze, his expression unreadable.

You waved at him, trying to break the ice. “Can I come down there?”

Felix shook his head without hesitation, his face remaining neutral.

Your shoulders slumped in disappointment, but you managed to muster a small smile. “Okay… maybe next time,” you said softly, almost to yourself.

In the past, you might have ignored his refusal and come down anyway, defying the unspoken barriers between you. But today, something held you back. Perhaps it was the realization that no matter how much you loved him, Felix wasn’t going to reciprocate those feelings. Not now, not ever.

-

"Happy birthday to you!"

The cheerful voices of the workers in your mansion filled the room, their smiles bright as they sang the birthday song for Felix. The cook proudly held up the cake he had baked, and Felix's mother carefully lit the candles, her face glowing with love and pride.

Felix had just arrived home from school, tired but content, when he flicked on the light and was greeted with the surprise. His eyes widened in shock, a smile breaking out across his face as he took in the sight of everyone gathered just for him. The warmth of their affection wrapped around him like a comforting blanket.

After they finished singing, Felix went around hugging everyone, gratitude bubbling up inside him. These people had become his family, and he cherished each one of them.

"Now, make a wish," someone called out playfully.

Felix, though not one to believe in wishes, closed his eyes and clasped his hands together. He made a silent prayer, then blew out the candles in one smooth breath.

"What did you wish for?" his mother asked, her eyes twinkling with curiosity.

"Mom, if I tell you, it won’t come true," Felix chuckled, pulling her into a tight hug.

Dinner was a simple affair, but the laughter and camaraderie around the table made it feel like a feast fit for royalty. The night was filled with stories, jokes, and the clinking of glasses as they celebrated not just Felix's birthday, but the bond they all shared.

As the night wore on, the celebration wound down, and Felix found himself outside, gazing up at the stars. The sky was clear, the stars twinkling like diamonds scattered across a velvet blanket. His mother had already gone to bed, leaving him alone with his thoughts and the peaceful sounds of the night.

Felix closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting the tranquility wash over him. Life was beautiful in its own way, but his dreams were bigger than this small world he lived in. He longed for more, to reach heights that seemed distant but not impossible.

His gaze drifted to the window of your room, noticing that the lights were off. He glanced at his phone; there were just ten minutes left of his birthday. A small pang of disappointment tugged at his heart.

Why hadn’t you greeted him?

He looked at your window again, feeling a twinge of regret. "Maybe I was too hard on her," he mumbled to himself, a sigh escaping his lips. Just as he was about to turn away and head to bed, a soft glow illuminated your window. His heart skipped a beat as you opened it, and your eyes met his across the distance.

You smiled at him, a gentle, sincere smile that made Felix’s chest tighten with an unfamiliar emotion. He couldn’t help but smile back, the corners of his mouth lifting as if on their own accord.

You pulled out your phone, and a moment later, Felix's phone rang. He answered it, holding it to his ear as he continued to watch you.

"Happy birthday," you said softly, your voice carrying a warmth that reached him even through the distance.

Felix didn’t respond right away, just listening to the sound of your voice, letting it wrap around him like a warm blanket on a cold night.

"I wanted to be special," you continued, your voice tinged with a shy sweetness. "I hope I was the last one to greet you."

Silence settled between you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. You both simply looked at each other, words unnecessary in that moment.

"Thank you," Felix finally whispered, his voice barely audible.

"Goodnight," you said after another long pause, your voice as gentle as the night breeze. You smiled at him one last time before ending the call and closing your window.

Felix stood there for a moment, his phone still pressed to his ear even after the call ended. A soft smile played on his lips as he looked up at your now-dark window.

The truth was, he had been waiting for you too.

-

The next day at school, Felix was walking through the hallway when one of the teachers stopped him. “Felix, could you do me a favor?” she asked, her voice tinged with concern. “Ms. Kim is out sick today, and we need someone to supervise the class. Could you assist?”

Felix, always willing to help, nodded. “Of course, I’ll take care of it.”

He made his way to your classroom, his expression neutral as he pushed the door open and stepped inside. The room went silent as the students noticed him, some whispering to each other in surprise. Felix was well-known around school—an achiever, a leader, someone everyone looked up to.

You, sitting near the window, couldn’t help but feel your heart skip a beat when you saw him. You’d been staring out at the clouds, daydreaming, when his presence snapped you back to reality. Felix walked to the teacher’s desk, setting his bag down, and then addressed the class.

“Ms. Kim isn’t here today, so I’ll be supervising,” he said in his usual calm and composed tone. “She left some seatwork for you to complete. I’ll distribute it now.”

As he handed out the worksheets, Felix moved methodically through the rows, his attention focused on the task. When he reached your desk, you looked up at him, hoping for a moment of eye contact, but he never glanced your way. He simply placed the paper in front of you and continued on.

You sighed softly, feeling a mix of admiration and disappointment. Felix was always like this—distant, almost as if there was an invisible wall between the two of you that you couldn’t break through. As the rest of the class began working on the assignment, you stared at the paper in front of you, your mind suddenly blank. The questions seemed more difficult than you expected, and you realized with a sinking feeling that you hadn’t studied enough.

Felix had settled at the teacher’s desk, a book in hand, his attention seemingly absorbed in its pages. You felt nervous, knowing he was just a few feet away. His presence, while usually comforting, now only added to your anxiety.

You began to scratch your head, frowning as you tried to make sense of the first question. Your seatmate, Seungmin, noticed your struggle and leaned over slightly. “Need some help?” he whispered, a friendly smile on his face.

You looked at him, relief washing over you, and were about to nod when Felix’s voice cut through the room.

“Everyone,” Felix announced without looking up from his book, “no talking during the seatwork. And no sharing answers.” His tone was firm, leaving no room for argument.

You froze, your heart pounding. Seungmin quickly turned back to his own paper, and you were left to face the assignment on your own. The nerves made it even harder to focus, and you found yourself barely able to complete more than half of the questions.

When the time came to pass in the papers, your classmates rushed to the front, eager to hand theirs directly to Felix. The girls, in particular, took the opportunity to chat with him, their voices laced with admiration and interest. You watched from your seat, feeling a pang of envy but also a sense of reluctance. You didn’t want to hand in your half-completed work, knowing it would only disappoint him.

As the last few students left the classroom, you remained seated, nervously tapping your pencil against the desk. Felix was now alone at the teacher’s desk, organizing the papers with his usual efficiency. Finally, mustering up the courage, you stood and walked over to him, clutching your paper tightly in your hands.

“Felix…,” you started, your voice barely above a whisper. He looked up from the papers, his expression unreadable. “Is it okay if I… maybe, pass this as an assignment? I… I ran out of time.”

He glanced at the paper you were holding, then back at you. There was a long pause, and for a moment, you thought he might agree. But then he shook his head. “No. You need to submit it now.”

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his gaze, even though his tone was still calm, almost indifferent. Reluctantly, you handed over your paper, unable to meet his eyes. Felix took it without a word, his expression unchanging as he glanced over your answers. He didn’t say anything—no criticism, no encouragement. Just silence.

You bowed your head, embarrassment flooding your cheeks as you waited for him to say something, anything. But Felix simply added your paper to the pile and looked back up at you. “Goodbye,” he said, his tone as cool as ever, before turning away and leaving the classroom with the stack of papers in his hands.

You stood there for a moment, feeling ashamed and a bit defeated. You knew you hadn’t done well, and the thought of Felix seeing your poor performance made you feel even worse. With a heavy sigh, you returned to your seat, packing up your things slowly, trying to shake off the lingering embarrassment.

What you didn’t know was that after leaving the classroom, Felix found a quiet spot in the school office. As he flipped through the stack of papers, he came across yours. Without hesitation, he pulled out a pen and began filling in the answers you hadn’t been able to complete, his expression softening slightly. He made sure the work was correct before carefully placing your paper in the middle of the stack, ensuring it wouldn’t stand out.

-

"Congratulations, Felix! You've been accepted to your dream university with a full scholarship! Your dreams are finally coming true!"

The principal’s voice rang out, followed by a wave of applause from the entire faculty gathered in the office. Felix stood there, slightly overwhelmed, as everyone around him clapped and congratulated him.

The smiles on their faces weren’t just for show; they were genuinely proud of him. They had seen firsthand what Felix had gone through at such a young age, how he had fought hard against the odds, and how he had slowly but surely been achieving his dreams. Seeing him take this monumental step forward was a moment of pride for everyone who had supported him along the way.

Felix felt a warm flush of happiness spread through him. He took a moment to thank each teacher, each mentor, each person who had been a part of his journey. Their words of encouragement and pride felt like a soothing balm to the years of hard work and struggle he had endured. This acceptance into his dream university was more than just a milestone; it was the culmination of every sacrifice, every late-night study session, and every ounce of determination he had poured into his education.

When he finally got home, Felix couldn’t contain his excitement. He rushed inside, barely pausing to kick off his shoes, and found his mother in the kitchen. Her eyes lit up the moment she saw him.

“Mom!” Felix called out, his voice bubbling with joy. “I got in! They accepted me with a full scholarship!”

His mother turned to him, and the pride in her eyes made Felix’s heart swell even more. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she rushed forward to embrace him. They held each other tightly, the joy and relief washing over them in waves.

“I’m so proud of you, Felix,” she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. Tears slipped down Felix’s cheeks too, and he didn’t bother wiping them away.

"Mom, we’re almost there," he murmured into her shoulder. "I’ll become a doctor, and then we can finally live happily. I’ll buy you everything you’ve ever wanted.”

His mother pulled back slightly to look at him, her smile radiant through her tears. “I don’t need anything, my son. You’re all I’ve ever need. I’m so happy for you, and I’m so proud of you.”

She kissed his cheek, her lips soft and warm against his skin. Then, with a tenderness that made Felix’s chest ache, she said, “You’ll be living far away now. So you must take care of yourself, alright? Promise me that.”

Felix nodded, the lump in his throat making it hard to speak. He wrapped his arms around his mother again, holding her as if he could imprint this moment into his memory forever. The happiness he felt was indescribable, a mixture of relief, accomplishment, and love.

But as he held his mother, another thought crept into his mind, unbidden and persistent.

How about you?

The question lingered in the back of his mind, casting a small shadow over his joy. Felix pushed the thought away, not wanting to dampen this moment, but it stayed with him, a quiet reminder of something unresolved.

-

Days had passed, and now it was your 18th birthday—a milestone you had been looking forward to, with a grand celebration planned in the garden. From early in the morning, the entire estate buzzed with activity. Workers moved with purpose, setting up decorations, arranging tables, and ensuring that everything was perfect. Despite your parents hiring the most famous event organizer and the best chefs, Felix was among those helping to prepare. He worked tirelessly, assisting wherever he was needed, and when the night came, he was assigned to be a server at the event.

As the evening descended, the party commenced. The garden was adorned with twinkling lights and fragrant flowers, a scene straight out of a fairy tale. Felix moved through the crowd, his expression focused as he carried trays and attended to guests. But amidst the elegant decorations and the mingling of your guests, you were nowhere to be seen. Everyone waited in anticipation for your entrance.

Then, the host's voice boomed over the speakers, announcing your arrival.

Every spotlight in the garden shifted, illuminating the grand doors that led from the house. And there you were, stepping into the light like a vision.

Felix froze in place, his breath catching as his eyes locked onto you.

You were a vision in your debut gown, an opulent violet off-the-shoulder ball gown that shimmered under the lights. The voluminous skirt cascaded like a waterfall, reminiscent of the one Belle wore, but yours was a deep, rich violet—a color that only served to enhance your beauty. You looked like a princess, ethereal and untouchable.

As you walked down the carpet, Felix couldn’t take his eyes off you. You were on one end, and he stood at the other, watching as you approached. When your gaze met his, you smiled— a smile so radiant it made Felix’s heart stumble in his chest.

For a moment, it felt like the world had stopped. The noise of the party, the clinking of glasses, and the murmurs of conversation all faded away. It was just you and him, two souls drawn together in a moment of pure, unspoken connection. Felix, who had never believed in fantasies or romances, found himself ensnared by the magic of this moment. You were walking towards him, and he stood there, lost in you, until you passed by him, breaking the spell.

Felix blinked, shaking his head to clear his thoughts as you climbed up onto the platform, where the crowd erupted into applause. He realized he had been standing there, staring, completely forgetting his duties.

“Uh, my champagne, please,” a voice beside him interrupted.

Felix snapped back to reality, scolding himself for losing focus. The rest of the evening, he kept his head down, avoiding looking at you, determined to do his job without further distraction.

As the night wore on, the party slowly drew to a close. It had been the best birthday you could have asked for, filled with laughter, music, and joy. But as you bathed and changed into more comfortable clothes, a feeling of incompleteness settled in your heart. The party had been perfect, but something was missing.

You stood by your window, gazing out at the now-quiet garden. The clock showed it was almost midnight. Felix had wished you a happy birthday earlier, but it had been through a simple text, and somehow, that didn’t feel special enough.

Quietly, you left your room, careful not to wake your parents, and slipped out of the house. The garden, which had been full of life earlier, was now still, the remnants of the celebration tidily cleared away. You made your way through the bushes until you stood before the small house you often visited.

Lifting your hand to knock on the door, you were suddenly pulled back. Startled, you turned to see Felix standing there, his grip firm but gentle on your arm.

Without a word, he led you away from the house. You followed him, trusting him implicitly, until you both reached the fountain. The sound of the water bubbling softly in the night added to the sense of intimacy that surrounded you both.

Felix stopped and turned to face you. Even after a long day of hard work, he looked as handsome as ever, and your heart ached with the depth of your feelings for him. You held his gaze, waiting, hoping, not daring to look away for fear that he might disappear again, as he often did.

He sighed, his breath mingling with the cool night air, and reached into his pocket. Your eyes followed his movements as he pulled out a small velvety box. Extending it toward you, he met your gaze once more.

"Happy birthday," he said, his voice low and steady.

You looked up at him, your heart fluttering. You had heard those words countless times today, but coming from him, they felt different—more special, more meaningful.

He opened the box, revealing a delicate silver necklace with a rose pendant nestled inside. The simplicity and beauty of it took your breath away.

"It’s not as expensive as what you’re used to, but I hope—"

"It’s beautiful!" you exclaimed, your voice filled with genuine delight. It was the most beautiful necklace you had ever seen.

Felix smiled, a small but sincere curve of his lips that made your heart race.

"Can you put it on me?" you asked, your voice soft with anticipation.

Felix hesitated, his eyes widening slightly before he nodded. You gathered your hair in your hands, lifting it to expose your neck, and Felix stepped closer. The proximity made your heart pound in your chest. You could feel the warmth of his breath near your ear as he carefully fastened the necklace around your neck. Every second stretched, and you found yourself wishing you could stay like this, wrapped in his presence.

But all too soon, Felix stepped back, breaking the spell once more. You almost shivered from the loss of his warmth, but his words brought comfort.

“It’s beautiful on you,” he said, his voice soft as he admired the necklace resting against your skin.

You held the pendant between your fingers, feeling the warmth of his sincerity. “Thank you so much, Felix,” you said, your voice full of emotion. “You made my day complete.”

In that moment, overwhelmed by the intensity of your feelings, you stepped closer to him and leaned in, pressing your lips to his. The kiss was soft, tentative, but it held all the emotions you had been carrying for so long. It felt magical, a perfect expression of the love you had kept hidden in your heart.

A lone tear escaped your eye as you pulled away, the realization of how deeply you loved him settling in. It was a love that hurt, a love that felt too big to contain.

But as you started to turn away, Felix caught your wrist, pulling you back to him. Before you could react, he kissed you.

It was different this time. His lips moved against yours with a steadiness that took your breath away. When you finally registered what was happening, you wrapped your arms around his neck, responding with all the love you had stored in your heart.

Felix had always been a part of your world, a constant presence in the background of your life. But now, standing here with him, you realized that love wasn’t always easy. Loving him had been hard, full of obstacles and unspoken words, but for Felix, this moment was a revelation.

He realized he had been too much of a coward, hiding behind his own fears and uncertainties. But as he kissed you, he knew that hiding was no longer an option. This was the moment where everything became clear.

As you both held onto each other in the quiet of the night, you understood that love was worth the risk.

[wileys-russo]

ignorance is bliss ficlet II l.williamson x reader

my angry cinnamon roll gf’s 🤭

feel free to read the proper full fic that this is a spin off from here

ignorance is bliss ficlet II l.williamson x reader

"did she say she wasn't coming?" lia asked again with a frown as you shrugged hopelessly, just as clueless to your girlfriends absence from training as the rest of the team, leah now almost an hour late and not answering anyone's calls.

"no she was already up and getting ready when i left, she seemed fine?" you explained, having left before your girlfriend to get a coffee with lotte who had then driven the two of you to training, leahs unusual absence causing a pit of worry to form in the bottom of your stomach.

"oh thank god here she is hold on.” you breathed a sigh of relief as her contact flashed on your screen.

“may i please be excused quickly jonas? its leah." you asked softly, wincing as you interrupted the briefing and felt everyone’s eyes watching on as you hurried out of the room, accepting the call.

"leah where the hell are you? you're late and you're never late! in fact you are always on my case about making us late to things." you rambled, stepping outside and holding the phone to your ear.

"yeah uh, i sort of…ran into some car trouble on the way there." leah replied in a strange tone of voice making you frown. "car trouble? whats happened? are you alright?" you questioned quickly with growing concern, leaning against the wall behind you as your mind raced with all the worst case scenarios.

"well..." leah trailed off and you waited patiently for an answer but there wasn't one. "well? just spit it out lee, as long as you're safe we can fix whatever happened, a car is only something material babe." you assured her softly, feeling your chest tighten with nerves at her obvious hesitation to come clean.

"no no it wasn't an accident or anything I um, well I-" leah danced around her words and you felt your patience thinning, bouncing on the balls of your feet.

"isortoflostmylicensecauseigotdonespeedingagainandineedyoutocomeandpickmeup." your girlfriend word vomited so fast you couldn't make out a single word of what she was saying. "what? slower please lee." you pinched at the bridge of your nose, exhaling deeply.

"i sort of lost my license cause i got done speeding again and i need you to come and pick me up…please." leah repeated and your eyes widened as you finally understood, the silence on your side of the line causing leahs stomach to twist into knots.

"please don't be mad i know you're always onto me about it and i really think this is the thing i needed to learn my lesson but- hey are you laughing at me?" leah frowned as you doubled over, resting a hand on your knee as you were indeed laughing at the predicement.

"oi its not funny! i can't drive for three months now!" leah shouted and you could almost hear the stroppy pout which would be forming on the older girls lips.

"it is funny because i did in fact warn you of this time and time again and you never listened. i told you so!" you sung out with a grin, leah somewhat relieved you weren't upset with her but also not appreciating that your amusement was at her expense.

"too bad i wasn't there to flirt your way out of it huh?" you smiled smugly, rewarded with an annoyed huff and a half understood grumbled insult.

"sorry what was that? you're going to walk to training? wonderful i'll see you soon!" you teased, leah yelling out a hasty apology and practically begging you not hang up, something which was more than rare from your normally over confident girlfriend.

"please come get me! i'm stranded and it's really embarrassing, what if someone recognises me?" leah whined and you rolled your eyes that of course that was her biggest concern right now.

"why don't you just sit in the car then while you wait?" you sighed with a small smile, the silence on the other end telling you all you needed to know.

"oh leah....you didn't. not again!" "stop leah'ing me, you sound like my mum!" "oh i can't wait to tell your mum about this." "don't you fucking dare!"

this was not a one off occasion. leah determined to buy the most tricked out car she could had spared no expense on the bells and whistles, though one of these had time and time again meant she’d locked her keys inside the insanely posh vehicle.

"baby i warned you when you bought that stupidly expensive car that the self locking feature would bite you in the ass." "now is so not the time for an i told you so. just come and pick me up!" "come pick you up..." "right now?" "leah!" "sorry. please please please come pick me up gorgeous. i love you?"

"i'll get someone to drive me now. you know you could just get an uber leah." "what did i say about leah'ing me!" ~

"there she is." you pointed out your girlfriend with a grin as katie slowed down a little, leah sat on the curb with her hoodie pulled over her head, clearly attempting to hide herself but the glaringly obvious red and blue arsenal tracksuit did her no favors.

"she looks like that kid who runs away from home gets about five minutes down the road and calls for their parents to come pick them up!" beth laughed at your girlfriends sour expression as you pulled beside her, though you'd note that to the others in the back all pointing and teasing her.

"you had to bring a crowd?" leah grumbled, standing to her feet and crossing her arms over her chest, glaring at beth and laura in the back who were pulling faces at her.

"what’s to say other than we all just had to witness the miracle for ourselves!" katie beamed as you leaned over and whispered something quickly in her ear, the irish woman nodding subtly with a smirk.

"go on then speed demon in ya hop!" katie teased, leah reaching for the door handle as she suddenly jerked the car forward and away from her, the four of you grinning as leahs jaw tightened.

“come on leah, in we get!” laura called out much like you would encourage a dog to return to its owner, which was not lost on leah who gave the younger girl a frighteningly filthy look.

"come on woman we haven't got all day you know!" beth tapped at her wrist mocking the time as once again leah reached for the door and katie moved the car forward slightly, sending the four of you into hysterics like naughty school kids at the back of the bus.

"nah you know what fuck this! i'm walking." your girlfriend fumed, kicking at the back of katies car and storming off down the road. you were quick to unbuckle yourself, jumping out and racing off after her as the girls all called out for her to get in the car.

"baby, get in the car." you grabbed her hand, looking at her with an amused smile as the taller blonde simply glared back at you wordlessly as you wrapped yourself around her in a hug, her arms remaining stoic by her side as she refused to engage in it.

"relax the face, relax the face." you cooed sarcastically and stroked at her forehead and cheeks trying to smooth away the deep frown lines as the defender smacked your hands away but you saw a hint of a smile grace her features as you stole a quick kiss and tugged her back with you towards the car.

leahs frown deepened as she was met with slow claps and she slid in the back beside laura, flipping them all off and sinking down into her seat.

"good news mccabe. as my work wife you have now been promoted and unlocked a new daily task. driving us to training!" you grinned as the irish woman rolled her eyes playfully.

"only if you caress my thigh and hold my hand like you do with blondie darlin." katie smirked at leah through the rear view mirror as you agreed, reaching out to accept her offered hand, intertwing your digits over the middle console.

"mccabe if you'd like to ever walk again i'd suggest you not touch her, or else i may have to accidentally studs up tackle you in every single drill." leah warned seriously, katie only grinning and bringing your intertwined hands up to her mouth, kissing your knuckles as you sarcastically swooned and leah huffed.

"now now don't worry, i'm sure vivs happy to share." beth teased, holding her hand up toward leah expecting her to kiss it as the blonde simply shot her a murderous look and smacked it away.

this was going to be a long three months.

[loluzzz]

Dad Bestfriend Hiromi Higuruma Headcannons

A/N : first time writing + it’s 12am. hopefully u enjoy and if not lmk what i can do better :p

Dad’s Bestfriend Hiromi who always likes to check in on you to make sure you’re okay. He’s always there to listen whenever you need to talk. Sometimes you ramble for hours and when you try to apologize he responds with “It’s okay honey. That’s what I’m here for.”

Dads Bestfriend Hiromi who always seems recharged once he’s around you. In a way you were both similar since you were both stressed out all the time. Having each other to lean back on has help create such a strong relationship between you two.

Dad’s Bestfriend Hiromi who always teases you about your looks and how gorgeous you are.

- “Look at you pretty girl”

- “I bet all the boys at uni are just all over you”

- “You look stunning”

Dad’s Bestfriend Hiromi who gets slightly jealous whenever you mention a boys name around him. He plays it cool but will begin to ask questions. What are they like? Do they work? Are they a good influence? You always dismissed her concerns as just being protective over his bestfriend’s little girl.

Dad’s Bestfriend Hiromi who’s more attentive to your needs than your actual father. Need a shoulder to cry on? He’s there. Struggling in a class? Hiromi is willing to tutor you for free. Need a ride? doesn’t matter how far, he’ll be there.

Dad’s Bestfriend Hiromi who enjoys spoiling you. Whether it’s for a special occasion such as your birthday or something as small as aceing exam, he’ll make sure to gift you something. Whether it was something small like your favorite flowers or even grand gesture such as expensive jewelry.

!!! NSFW AFTER THE CUT !!!

Dad’s Bestfriend Hiromi who is awfully playful around you as a way to get you to touch him. He’ll sometimes snatch for your phone, book or drink away from you in an attempt for you to climb on his body to retrieve it back. The way your small hands grabbed his big arms or the way you’d occasionally sit on top of him in order to grab your stuff back turned him on.

Dad’s Bestfriend Hiromi who likes to have you grind on his lap whenever your parents weren’t around. Helping you both relieve some sexual tension between you guys. You desperately rub your panties against his bulge on his black slacks. He grins onto your hips making sure to keep you balanced on top of him.

“Keep going. You’re so needy today pretty girl…” He whispered softly into your ear.

Dad’s Bestfriend Hiromi whose love language is physical touch. He would sometime sneak in a few touches on your body. Rubbing and holding your inner thigh as he drives you home after he offers to pick you up from uni for your dad. It was just an excuse to have some alone time with you. Some days he tries to go further and rubs your clothed pussy under your skirt. He makes sure to ask before her moved them to the side to finger you. All while he’s still driving you home, making sure you get home safely.

Dad’s Bestfriend Hiromi who would enjoy edging himself to your pictures. He made a secret account just to stalk your instagram. All those seemingly innocent pictures of you, after the gym stories, and simple selfies of your face drove him insane. Just thinking what your moans would sound like. He rubs his bulge through his boxers while looking at a full body picture of you.

“Mmmm~ Just one chance y/n please~ Mmph~ Just let me cum inside youuu~”

“So desperate h-huh pretty girl? Fuck- mmmm~”

“Bet you’re so tight and warm. Just squeezing my cock~”

“Such a perfect little body~ mmm~”

Dad’s Bestfriend Hiromi who finally gets the chance to sleep with you makes sure not to mess up. He’s entirely focused on your pleasure before his. Making sure to flick his tongue all around your wet pussy. Eating you out just the way you like while his nose tickles your clit. You could tell he enjoyed this just as much as you did. You could cum from this alone. He was so gentle with you, making sure not to be too rough or mean to your body.

Dad’s Bestfriend Hiromi whimpering mess once he finally inserts his veiny cock inside you making such lewd noises each thrust. While in missionary, he holds onto your waist but makes sure not to grab you too rough. The tip of his cock just kissing your cervix.

“Just as how I imagined~”

“Mmm~ You feel so good~ It feels good for you to right my pretty girl~?”

“Yes baby~ Just wrap yourself around my cock~”

Dad’s Bestfriend Hiromi who makes sure to cum deep inside you, not letting a drop escape from your puffy cunt. He hugged you tight once you both finish.

Dad’s Bestfriend Hiromi who makes sure to hold onto you tightly as apart of aftercare.

“You did so well baby~”

“Such a pretty girl. You’re okay. Rest on me okay?”

“I’m here for you baby. Want me to rub your little body? You must be so sore.”

He always prioritizes your wellbeing over his. He continues to comfort you and hold you until you fall asleep. That’s when he finally falls asleep after you. Still holding you close to his chest.

[bullet-prooflove]

Bad Boy: Chef Luca x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @djlnkaled @10ava01 @freckledhorse @wabi-sabi1090

Companion piece to:

Something Special - Luca knows you're something special from the very moment you meet.

Sfogliatella - Luca spends months perfecting your fav dessert leading to a surprise proposal.

Luca used to be a little wild, he tells you that when you’re sitting on the deck of the boat that he lives in, sharing an expensive bottle of wine. Your gaze is fixed on the lights from the city as they glitter across the canal as he hands you the glass before taking up residence alongside of you on the cushioned bench.

“Used to be?” You ask carefully. “Or still are?”

“Used to be.” He reassures you because he knows your history.

You’d had a thing for bad boys in your early twenties. You’d fallen in love with a man you were translating for, one who rode motorcycles and was possessive over his woman. He was fun, adventurous and secretive.

You can’t say when you started to lose the pieces of yourself, only that one day Armand didn’t like the way you dressed, he preferred you to wear darker scents instead of floral. A tracking app appeared on your phone so he could make sure you were ‘safe’. You wanted to leave but by that point yourself confidence had been eroded so much that you just couldn’t bring yourself to walk out the door so you stayed.

You’d stayed until you were woken up at three in the morning to the police bursting into his home and raiding the place for drugs. They had found nothing on the premises but you were both swept up for questioning. They’d detained you for five hours before they ascertained you had no knowledge of the operation. Armand had been charged and sentenced to twenty five years in prison for his role in cross state heroin operation.

It had taken such a long time to put yourself back together again after that, to reclaim who you were. You’d taken a job at the UN to get out of the city, bounced around a few countries before you found a home in Copenhagen.

It’s Luca’s words that bring you back to the present. He hasn’t told you how he ended up in Denmark, what led him to become a chef.

“My home life, it was messed up. Most of the time we were this close-” he says indicating a tiny gap with his fingers. “- from being taken into care. I was stealing all the time, trying to make ends meet, bunking off school, lashing out...”

Noone in Copenhagen knows this story, they just know him as the guy who used to with for David Fields. Someone dependable, someone capable, someone stable. They don’t know that there were nights he used his hide his sister in the closet and sing her to sleep because their mother was on another bender.

“Cheffing saved me from all of that, it gave me the structure I needed at the time, the discipline and the cash to provide for my family until my sister was old enough for university.”

“What happened to your parents?” You ask him and he gives you a sad smile.

“Dad was never really in the picture. The last time I saw him I think I was seven and he took me to an Arsenal game, after that radio silence.” He says shaking his head. “And mum… well the drugs took her.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” You tell him and he shrugs his shoulders.

“We expected it to happen a lot sooner if I’m honest.” He tells you. “I know it sounds cold but when you live like that…”

“I kinda get it.” You say softly. “When I was with my ex, he would have these moods…”

You trail off and he understands the subtext. He’s not the only one that’s seen violence, that’s managed to escape it and make something of himself. His fingers entwine with yours, a show of solidarity because if there’s anyone that understands what you endured, it’s Luca.

“I was relieved when the police arrested him, I didn’t have the strength to leave him before that but after…” Your eyes flicker up to meet his and truly they are the most beautiful shade he’s ever seen. “I got to be me again, the real me, not the one he’d tried to shape me into.”

“I’m glad that you escaped that life.” He says, reaching out to brush a strand of hair back behind your ear. “That we both managed to find our way to each other.”

You clasp his hand to your cheek, your lips brushing over his pulse point as you whisper.

“Yea. I am too.”

Love Luca? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[tropicalszns]

BIKINI SET

⋆˚⟡˖° 𐙚 - gojo satoru x black!fem reader

about

you and gojo are heading on a trip, an sitting in first class, expensive hotel was booked before, and sweet time alone with each other. as you guys were preparing to head to the beach, gojo couldn’t help but let his urges take over when he sees you in your new bikini that you showed to him.

contains

dry humping, neck kisses, praise, marking, name callings; baby, sweets, sweetheart, honey, princess, slight possession and aggression, gojo really liking your ass, pussy eating.

w.c

2.4k (2,426)

a/n

first smut of gojo and overall, hope you enjoy <3 reblogs and likes r appreciated

As you both landed in Miami, the hot sun glazed on your skin. You put on your sunglasses and your sun hat since you didn’t want to take your sunscreen out your suitcase this minute. You glanced over at Gojo who was on his phone, barely paying attention to his surroundings. You furrowed your brows with a pout, taking his phone. “Hey!-” He was about to say, until he saw you. “We need to catch a cab, it’s hot here. I don’t wanna walk to a train station in these weather, or walk anywhere for that matter! I just wanna go to the hotel.” You complained, the hot heat making you sticky and annoyed.

Gojo kissed your temple, one hand rubbing your shoulders to distract you as he took his phone from your hand. “Yeah, yeah.. it’ll be fine. We will get to the hotel in just a minute, sweets.” He says as he went back to texting on his phone. “I’m just gonna tell Suguru and ‘em that I’ll talk to them later..” He bit his lips for a moment as he typed. “Okay— hold on..” he stretches his words out more as he types a bit more aggressively. You only crossed your arms and leaned against the suitcase.

“Okay! I’m done, let’s find us a cab.” He finally said, putting his phone in his pocket. He glanced at your pouty expression and only awed. “Baby, c’mon!” He excitedly tried to amp you up. He gave you a hug from behind, kissing on your cheek repeatedly. “We are in Miami! Aren’t you excited? You’ve been bothering me about this damn trip for longer than I can remember, now you’re so grumpy.” But you continue to be annoyed, as you should since it was blazing hot and you had no time to deal with his behavior. You side eyed him, scrunching up your lips a bit more as he kissed your cheek.

“You’re noo funnn.. I know it’s hot but you’re just being mean now, no fair.” Satoru huffs, letting go of you and holding your hand. “Let’s find a taxi then, maybe you’ll fix your face when you get to the hotel.”

Once you both got into your rooms for the hotel, the fresh smell of the spacious and luxurious room made you feel like you were floating. You took your hand off the suitcase and plopped yourself onto the bed. You groaned in exhausted yet relief. You sniffed the sheets, they smelt so clean— freshly washed. Gojo came into the room, closing the door and placing the suitcases to a corner of the room. “Isn’t this nice? I feel so relieved, wanna sleep all that exhaustion away.” Gojo announced, he saw how you were plopped on the bed and he was tempted to just smack your ass right there.

So he did, Gojo smacked your ass swiftly, seeing your jolting made him snicker. “Couldn’t help it, was the perfect moment. Didn’t wanna seize that opportunity!” He continued to laugh, exploring his way around the hotel room. You grumbled as up lifted your head up. “You’re not funny!” You huffed, putting your head back into bed.

Later that day, you both decided to head to the beach since that was the first thing you guys wanted to do when you got here. You rummaged through your suitcase to find your new bikini that you bought a while ago. You didn’t show it to Gojo yet, and now you’re planning to. You quickly put on the bikini and headed to the bathroom to knock. “Eh? Give me a minute.” Gojo said, his voice slightly raising in the air. “‘Toru! I wanna show you my bikini, I don’t know if it’s good—”

Before you can finish your sentence, the door automatically opened. His hand on his swimming trunks as he adjusted the straps. He wore a red long sleeved hoodie and some black trunks. You raised your eyebrow at the hoodie. “Why are you wearing a hoodie..?” You questioned, humming with confusion. “Ca-” Gojo was about to speak but he looked at the way your bikini fit so perfectly on your body. His eyes were practically bulging out of his eyeballs. “You’re wearing that?!” He asks, his hands tempting to squeeze your boobs.

“Yes? Is that an issue? You don’t like it?” You pouted, crossing your arms as you were about to complain but Gojo spoke up quickly. “No! No— Fuck, I love it. I love it so much, baby.” He put his hands on your arms, unfolding your arms. “Don’t pout, I love this. Where’d you get this from? You never showed this to me whenever we went swimming.” You shrugged, “I dunno, I got a while ago. I just never thought I could wear it, they weren’t special occasions.”

“You need to wear it more often, fuck a special occasion. Turn around for me, princess.” A smirk crawled on his face, watching you turn around he couldn’t help his thoughts about ruining you in that bikini. “Shit, yeah..” He bit his lip, giving your ass another slap. You were gonna complain but you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pleasure in your body. You let out a little giggle with a smile as you turned back around, “Words can’t explain how much this is my favorite bikini you’ve bought, I just kinda wanna ruin you in it, not gonna lie.” He said smugly, kissing the crook of your neck.

You put your hands on his shoulders and let his hands slide down your sides. “Well, too bad you can’t.” You tease, feeling his plump lips kiss on your neck, his hands still roaming on your body. One hand sliding down to your ass to give a squeeze. Gojo raised a brow, looking at you for a minute. “Who said I can’t? It’s my vacation too, ya’know?” He furrows his brows, looking at you with dissatisfaction. “I think I deserve something, and plus we can always find a new bikini for you! So even if it.. does happen to get messed up, I could buy you more.” You looked at him, batting your lashes as you didn’t respond.

“Please? I’m hard for you, like so hard right now. When I saw you I think I felt my dick jump,” His eyes sparkled with desperate anticipation and excitement. “Please, sweets?! I promise I won’t go overboard okay? I promise! Please!” He begs, kissing your cheek every word. You sighed, giving into his cuteness and pleads. “Fine, fine!”

As you got on the bed, Gojo immediately kissed on your skin, his hands sliding down to your stomach, then to your thighs, softly biting on your flesh. You squirmed a little, whining from the bites. “Yeah? Does that feel good, princess?” I teased, knowing the obvious answer. He glanced at your pussy, a damp spot already seeping. He kissed back to your heat, licking your cunt through your bikini. You felt your toes curl, your head pressed back against the soft pillows, your chest heaving up and down at a steady pace. “So wet already, did my biting turn you on? Mm, maybe I should bite you more.” He slid your bottom to the side, licking your clit, sucking on it like his life depended on it. “Fuck! ‘Toru!” You moaned, one hand gripping the sheets another gripping his fluffy white hair. The fact he was still trying to eat you out with his glasses on made it kind of difficult to concentrate. He was so sexy with them on, he was sexy without them either but the way he looked so cheeky like with them on and so cocky made you turned on more than you can imagine.

He licked your walls, slurping up your juices like it was some water. He looked up at you through those glasses, making you clench over nothing, it was just the sight of him turning you on much. It made your body warm, you looked away from him, gulping thickly. “Nuh uhh, don’t do that!” Satoru pout, moving his lips from your wet pussy. “I wanna see your pretty face while I get to eat this pretty pussy.” He sat up a little, kissing your cheek then your lips. You melted into the kiss, your stomach bubbling with emotions. He slid two fingers inside so swiftly since you were already so wet. You clenched around his fingers, moaning as he thrusted his fingers in and out.

He kissed your chin and throat a little, sliding his face back down to your pussy, licking your pussy and clit as he fingered you slowly yet deeply. You tried to sit up, squirming and shivering around. You were such a moaning mess around his fingers and tongue, your eyes rolling back into your skull at how easily his finger tips were able to reach your g-spot, over and over again. You let your jaw drop, little to no sounds coming out of your mouth as he kept hitting your spot. “Want’chu to cum around my fingers, can you do that for me princess?” He asked, seeing how you were barely able to compute what was going on.

“It’d be really nice if you say something to me.” He snickered a little, fingering you a little faster. Your moans began to roll in, your eyes squeezing shut as you felt your orgasm bubble and knot into your stomach. “I’m gonna cum, fuck! Oh my—” you practically squealed, your toes curling more, gripping onto his hair harder. “Yeah? Fuck you’re so sexy, cum f’me sweetheart. Cum all over my fingers,” he encouraged, going faster as he bit his lip. Soft groans leaving his mouth, his dick twitching in his pants as he uses his free hand to rub himself. You creamed all over his fingers, his fingers still thrusting into your pussy for that euphoric moment to linger a bit longer.

He licked his fingers, looking at you with a smile. “Did that feel good?” He asked, looking at your panting lips, you narrowed your eyes and rolled them. “Don’t ask me that.” You let the grip of his hair go, holding onto the sheets. “Just wanna feed my ego a lil’, nothings wrong with that!” He snickered, pressing his erection against you. “You’re annoying.” You replied, your words quickly diminishing as he grinds his hips against yours. “Really, m’annoying? You don’t ever say that when I’m so deep inside you though? Isn’t that a little weird?” He teased, gently biting on your neck making small marks. “Satoru, quit it.. I don’t want markss.." you whined, allowing his hand to pick up your waist, moaning a little louder than usual. “Do I give a fuck?” He grunted, his erection pressing against you so much, he couldn’t hold it in much longer.

“If I was that mean I didn’t wanna let you go out in that sexy bikini, you should say thank you.” He groaned, sliding his trunks down to reveal his hard dick. “I need to slide this dick into you baby, need to show you who you belong to for a second..” he slides his pink tip against your pussy lips, your wetness already coaxing his tip. You both synced up as you moaned, looking down at how he teased you by sliding the tip in and out slowly. “Stop fucking teasing me!” You groaned, “So demanding, princess. But then when I put it in, you’re gonna beg for me to slow down right?” He slid his dick in all the way, almost bottoming out before you held his arm for him to wait. He let out soft moans, kissing your neck. “Mm, tell me when I can move then.”

A couple moments of adjusting he didn’t thrust at his normal steady pace, he thrusted at a fast speed, his balls hitting against your ass. You didn’t have enough time before your brain short circuited. His hand wrapped around your neck firmly. “Want me to stop fucking teasing right? Want me to fuck you deep in this cute bikini? Huh?” He asked, practically getting a little aggressive as he bit on your neck. “T-Toru.. Toru! Fuck, please.. slow down!” You felt tears form from his aggression, your head back against the pillows as he continued to thrust. “No.. No teasing right, you’re such in a rush to go to the beach, eh? M’gonna put my cum so deep into you, messing up this bikini..” he was so lost in fucking your sweet pussy he forgot he couldn’t mess up your bikini. But it didn’t even matter cause you kind of forgot too.

“Such a good fucking girl, taking my dick so well,” he whispered against your ear, growling softly as he thrusted harder. Your orgasm already about to reach and it hasn’t even been a minute. “You’re so good f’me, take it. Fucking take it!” You clenched around him tightly, your arms wrapping his neck, your teeth grazing on your bottom lip as you chewed on it. The overwhelming feeling of the lust and pleasure in the moment made you so hot. You put your lips onto his, and he passionately kissed onto your plump lips, sliding his tongue inside you throat as he continued to fuck you at that same pace.

You moaned and groaned, whining as you felt your orgasm washing over you. “I’m cum— ah, I’m gonna cum ‘Toru..” you whined, your mind so fogged with lust you whined louder. “Yeah? Cum all over this dick, you deserve it.. Mm, I’m gonna cum too baby, lemme cum inside that sweet fuckin’ pussy..” he felt his thrust falter and become sloppy as he was on the brink of orgasm. Your soft babbles of his name made you go insane. Beads of sweat running down Gojos forehead, finally receiving one last thrust to cum deep inside you. You came around his shaft, moaning loudly as you do it. The people outside the door could probably hear but you didn’t care enough to actually care. His cum filing you up, feeling so warm inside.

You both were panting heavily, Gojo taking his hand off your throat and seeing a light make of his hand. “Are you okay—” He was about to ask until he looked down, pulling out his dick, earning a soft groan from you to see his cum mixed with yours leaking out. You grumbled some curses as you tried to gain some consciousness from that intense and heated moment.

“Uh- you know what princess? Let’s just.. not go to the beach today?”

made by; tropicalszns! don’t steal, plagiarize, copy, or repost w/o perms..