#pls don’t come for me this is just a joke

[runariya]

Beyond Probability JJK (m.)

summary: Matching with an idol? Unlikely. But with a 99% compatibility? Beyond probability. pairing: idol!Jungkook x f!reader genre: idolvers, S2L, fluff, smut rating: 18+, MDNI! warnings: fluff, fluff, a bit of self doubt, fluff, fluff, explicit sexual content, shower sex, unprotected sex, pls lmk if I forgot smth word count: ~ 4k

a/n: It’s a rly cute and short oneshot, light and mainly fluff, nothing too deep, no big words etc this time. Just had to get it out of my system since the idea’s been on my mind for months now (unedited bc I fell ill halfway through writing it 🤒)

a/n 2: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! 💕

Your biological clock’s ticking—has been for some years now—and even though you’re only now nearing 30, you’re painfully aware that the life you pictured as a kid might never come true.

It’s not like you’re unstable in who you are or what you’re doing. You’re fairly successful at your job, you’ve got your own place, and you’re more social than most people these days. Still, you’re only what most would call average-looking, and even though you’ve got a good career, you’re too soft to keep it up forever. You picture yourself more as a loving wife and mother than a corporate boss bitch climbing the ladder of success.

That’s also why your dating life has been rocky all along. Men see what you put out there, but they don’t like who you really are or what you want from life, which has left you single for most of it.

So, when a new project starts—after the K-pop industry finally acknowledges that idols need partnerships and a life of their own, and fans finally understand that these people are human too, that they deserve to experience love and happiness like everyone else—you decide to take your chances too.

Funnily enough, all the labels have teamed up, hiring not only the best scientists and psychologists from Korea but from around the world to create a program that can find ideal matches for their idols. Sure, science shouldn’t determine who you fall in love with, but… what if it could?

After being pre-selected—just to confirm you’re not some crazed fan—you’ve spent over two weeks going through tests. Recorded interviews, personality assessments, even physical evaluations… now you’re staring at your company’s computer screen, listening to Dr. Song explain the results through the phone. 

“Ninety-nine percent?”

“Yes. The chances of such a high compatibility score are next to impossible. We see it as a perfect match and would like to introduce you to your match.”

“Sure, of course.” Even though your voice is steady, you can feel your nerves flaring up like never before.

“Is tomorrow at 8 p.m. alright for you?”

“Yes, that works for me.”

“Perfect, we’ll see you then.”

Well, joke’s on you, you didn’t expect this outcome. 

Meeting an idol feels surreal, and the closer you get to 8 p.m. the next day, the more you can feel the anxiety and doubts inside you rising. Every last detail in Dr. Song’s calm, clinical rundown replays in your mind, the ninety-nine percent match, the endless rounds of testing, the surreal realisation that, somehow, all those numbers and algorithms miraculously spat out a name next to yours. 

You want to trust that there’s a reason for this, that somehow science isn’t just working with chance, but the tension of actually meeting someone this special is so overwhelming you barely notice yourself entering the lab building until you’re standing outside Dr. Song’s office.

“Right on time,” she chirps, giving you an approving nod. She seems to sense your nerves, and as she leads you down a hallway you’ve never been before, she gives you a reassuring smile. “I know this is all a lot. But he’s likely feeling the same way. The tests told us that he’s, well, quite like you.”

Her words would make you laugh in any other situation, though disbelief and a strange kind of comfort floods through you still. Like you. An idol, standing here in a lab somewhere to meet some random stranger, feeling just as out of place as you. You’re not sure of that but still like to think it must be true. 

You don’t have time to process it fully before you’re led into a quiet room with yellowish walls so plain they almost blur in the corners of your vision, a low, comfortable couch and a couple of chairs standing there and none of the lab equipment that surrounded you in the testing rooms all those weeks ago. 

And then you spot him, sitting on the couch, alone. He stands the second you walk in, hands half in his pockets, a slight, almost unsure smile grazing his lips as he glances down at you. He’s got that casual look about him, the same dark eyes you’ve seen a hundred times on a screen that somehow feel warmer and more human here. 

He looks not quite better than he does on screen, but not worse either. Somehow, he’s realer, if that’s a word—close enough that you can see the little flecks of colour in his irises, the slight tension in his posture, the faintest trace of nerves hiding under his composure.

“Hi.” Jungkook’s voice is lower, softer than you expect from an idol. “Nice to meet you, I’m Jungkook.”

“Nice to meet you too. I’m ___.” There’s a pause, and you can tell he’s just as unsure what to do with the space between you two as you are. The click of the door makes you turn around briefly, only to realise Dr. Song has left you both alone. “This is, um, weird, right?”

He nods, a quick, breathy laugh breaking through. “Very. I mean, this isn’t exactly a ‘normal’ kind of meeting, right?”

His words are awkward but disarming, and suddenly, you’re aware of all the tiny, meticulous details of him that somehow make him feel more relatable than his polished, on-screen persona. The way his hand keeps moving to rub against his thigh or abs, his tongue playing with his lips and piercing ever so slightly—everything about him is familiar but also somehow close enough to feel completely new.

“I don’t think I was ready for this,” you admit. You aren’t really talking to him but more like letting your own thoughts slip out in the safest way possible, like saying it makes it feel less absurd.

“Honestly, same.” He laughs, and you think there’s a light flutter in your chest now. “I kept thinking about this whole ninety-nine percent thing. Like… how does that even work? Isn’t it supposed to feel, I don’t know, obvious? Like you know the moment you see someone?”

You nod, understanding exactly what he means, and somehow you move on autopilot, walking towards him and sitting down on that couch with him beside you. It feels like you should both somehow know, like there’s a sign or an instant connection, something that would make all of this feel simple, easy. But it’s just the two of you in a quiet room, barely knowing each other, held together by nothing but a number on a report.

“Yeah, that’s so wild. I didn’t think I’d have a match, this close to a hundred even less. Might be a glitch if our score is this high.”

Jungkook nods with sparkling eyes, seemingly relieved by your honesty and humour. “Yeah, I get that. I kept thinking about it too. Wondering if maybe the tests were wrong, or maybe I was just…thinking too much.” He lets out a sigh, his gaze meeting yours for a long, meaningful second. “But I think maybe this is about finding out, right? Not having it all make sense right away.”

“Hm, makes sense.” You giggle, because what else can you do in the presence of him.

The two of you sit there in a momentary silence, as if testing each other, feeling out the small boundaries that keep you both distant.

“So, what did the report tell you about me?” You ask the question half-jokingly, trying to break the quiet, but also curious. You want to know what he knows, how much of this supposed ninety-nine percent compatibility is actually something that either of you feel. 

He lets out a silent breath, looking down as if slightly embarrassed. “Honestly, not as much as you’d think. They told me you were kind of… soft-spoken but resilient? And that you have a job that’s, uh, stable and…” He trails off, the tips of his ears slightly pink, like he’s embarrassed to keep going.

“And?” You can’t help but push further—not maliciously, just way too curious and playful for your own good. Jungkook’s expression shifts from embarrassed to surprised, and then to a look that’s just as playful.

“And that we’re, apparently, very much sexually compatible.”

Really, you should be the one feeling embarrassed or shy now, but you can’t help the laugh that slips out. You know exactly what he’s hinting at—your report clearly showed the same.

“Well, it might be not wrong. And they told me…” You pause, realising that you barely remember the details in the face of the reality in front of you but alas. “They said you’d be a good match because, I think, there was something about humour?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Humour? Never heard of it.” And it makes you laugh all over again. “I feel like they just told us things we’d want to hear, to make it seem easier and normal.”

His words hit close to home, but they’re strangely comforting in the way he says them. You reckon, he’s just as bewildered by this as you are, maybe even more so. And somehow, in the middle of all the awkwardness, you find yourself genuinely smiling at him, naturally gravitating towards him, finding that there’s a softness and reassurance in his gaze, a gentleness that cuts through your nerves like a knife through melted butter in the sun. 

You start talking more freely after that, exchanging stories that are too mundane to make sense in any real context but feel right here. You tell him about your last trip to the beach, how you got sunburned and spent the whole evening sitting on your balcony, nursing it with iced water and aloe, wishing for a helping hand that you didn’t have. He laughs, nodding along as if he can picture it exactly and tells you about how he tried to make pasta he ate in Italy for the first time a few months back and ended up burning the whole batch, because no one was by his side, so badly his kitchen smelled like smoke for days.

The more you talk, the more you notice the little things about him that aren’t so polished, aren’t so perfect, and make him feel more human and real than anyone you ever met. He has a way of listening, eyes intent on yours, like he’s trying to pick apart every word to understand it better. When he laughs, it’s with his whole face, even body, not the careful, composed look of an idol but a natural, carefree laugh that makes you feel like maybe he’s as relieved as you are to be here, to have someone he doesn’t have to impress. 

At some point, you both lapse into a comfortable silence, each lost in your own thoughts but somehow still connected. The tension from earlier has faded away, replaced by a soothing aura you know you don’t want to miss for a day in your life.

Eventually, Jungkook glances over at you, his eyes sucking you in without much resistance. “I kept thinking this would feel forced, you know? Like we’d be sitting here, struggling to find anything in common.” He leans back, drapes his arm around the back of where you’re sitting, glancing up at the ceiling as if searching for the right words. “But… it doesn’t feel that way. You feel… I don’t know, right?”

The slight flutter in your chest has now swelled into a full-blown hurricane, and you’re not sure if it’s that ninety-nine percent compatibility causing it. But you don’t let yourself think too much—not when you’ve both been inching closer with each word, not when you take a chance and lean in, resting your head against his side. Especially not when his arm settles directly over your shoulder, pulling you a little closer, his other hand finding yours, fingers intertwining just to see how it feels.

“Yeah, it feels right. I really like this.”

As you absently play with his fingers, breathing in his scent for the first time and deciding it’s like heaven, you let yourself trust science. Because this feels like exactly where you’re meant to be.

While the first meeting with Jungkook went better than you’d ever hoped, you’re painfully aware of your overthinking nature. Overthinking in a way that makes it painfully clear there are countless women out there who, on the surface, would seem a better visual match for him than you.

Overthinking to the point where you wonder why Jungkook would even need matchmaking when he could so easily choose a partner on his own. It’s also why staying focused at work isn’t exactly easy today, knowing that soon his label will be sending a car to pick you up for your next meeting with him.

You understand the precautions they’ve taken and completely agree it’s better to meet in a private, safe space rather than making headlines this early on. That’s why, as the tinted car arrives, you feel a bit more at ease than you have all day.

Soon enough, you’re driving down the path to the label’s underground garage, and while you fix your makeup real quick, the car comes to a stop. The driver nods and guides you towards the lift, where the lights are dim and everything has this quiet, professional atmosphere you’ve only seen on screen.

You try to take it all in, letting your thoughts settle just a bit more as you follow through to the hallways upstairs, past doors labelled with room numbers and studios, and then finally, you’re outside the door to Jungkook’s studio, right where you’re supposed to meet.

Your heart beats a little faster as you hear Jungkook’s familiar voice call out, “Come in,” and when you open the door, you find him leaning casually against the chair before his equipment with an easy smile that somehow manages to be both happy and slightly flirty. 

Again, Jungkook’s dressed just like uniquely him, with a few silver rings glinting on his fingers. And while you didn’t think he’d even get up to greet you, he steps forward and embraces you in hug so tight, it leaves you drowning in him. 

“Hey,” he greets with that disarming grin, eyes boring into you, taking in your formal work attire, as he gestures to the coffee set up besides his laptop. “Hope you don’t mind the casual vibe.”

You laugh a little, settling onto the free chair beside him, feeling a bit strange but somehow not. “I think it’s perfect. And to be honest, I don’t think I’d cope well with the whole five-star dining treatment and whatnot.”

He laughs, nodding in agreement, taking your purse from your hands and draping it casually over the back of his chair. The fact that he’s still so attentive, even though he’s clearly in his element here but completely relaxed, is rather fascinating and pulls you in even more.

Like the day before, talking with him comes easy, and while there’s nothing groundbreaking in your conversations, every word feels meaningful in the bigger picture.

Eventually, you feel yourself relaxing like you were at home by your own, getting comfortable enough to let out the thoughts that have been swimming in your head since last night. “I’ve thought a lot about how all of this could play out,” you admit, taking a sip of your coffee, trying to find the right words, though knowing there won’t be any wrong words when talking with Jungkook. “And honestly, I’m not really interested in taking things public if they did work out. I know that’s probably strange to say, but I’m not cut out for the spotlight.”

He tilts his head, watching you thoughtfully. “No, it’s not strange at all. I get it.”

A small smile tugs at your lips as you go on, “I just want something real. A partner who’s loyal, someone who’s there because we get each other, not because we’re some public ‘it’ couple, parading around every chance we get. Does that sound crazy?”

He shakes his head, while he swings from one side to the other.  “Not at all. That actually sounds perfect to me.” There’s a sincerity in his tone that makes you feel, for the first time, like there’s some truth to your report. “The whole ‘idol’ thing is just a job. It’s not who I am, not at the core. And having someone who sees it that way, is what I want too.”

It elates you to know that you could have something like this, with him,  someone you could genuinely share your life with.

Then, in a thoughtful voice, he asks, “What do you want for the future? I mean, outside all of this.” 

You take a breath, feeling a little nervous but wanting to be honest. It’s not like it’s news to him, seeing that this information’s written in the report he was handed. “I want something traditional. A home, a family, maybe staying home with kids, having that steady, grounded life. It sounds simple, I know, but it’s what I’ve always pictured.” You look up at him, expecting maybe a hint of judgement, but instead, you find him nodding, his eyes lighting up like a candle in the night.

“I don’t think that sounds simple at all, but meaningful.”

A shy smile forms on your lips as you add, “Sometimes I feel like people don’t see that side of things anymore, you know? Like everyone’s so focused on careers and success and everything else… and I get that, I do, but I’ve always just wanted something steady. Something I can hold on to.”

His hand finds yours, his fingers like second nature intertwine with yours, and the gesture is so simple yet so heartwarming that you feel like squealing out of happiness. “That’s exactly what I want too.” It’s nothing new to you too, but him saying that, seeing the honesty in his eyes, is better than any data shown to you. “I want that sense of home.”

You feel yourself falling a little harder, a little faster, and maybe that scares you a bit. You’ve seen the kind of attention he gets, the kind of girls that throw themselves at him, and it’s hard not to let those doubts creep in. Especially now. “I know this probably sounds insecure,” you start awkwardly, glancing away, “I think, I don’t know, maybe I’m not the kind of person someone like you would go for. I mean, you could have anyone, and not just because you’re an idol.”

He gives your hand a gentle squeeze, his thumb tracing soothing circles against your skin. And while his mouth opens to say something, the pull against your hand surprises you as much as him settling you in his lab. “Hey, don’t think like that. I’m here because I want to be. And trust me, I’m not looking for ‘anyone’. I’m looking for someone who gets me. And that someone is you, no?”

The look in his eyes is so genuine, so unguarded, that it’s hard to keep your heart from doing all sorts of stunts. He’s not the polished idol right now; he’s just Jungkook, being flirty, being compassionate, being so him, sitting in a cosy studio with his tattoos, his piercings, his moles, his beautiful smile, his whole presence more comfortable and inviting than you could have imagined.

And as he sits there, looking at you like you’re the only person in the world, you realise that you definitely don’t have to doubt this. Maybe it’s okay to let yourself believe that he’s here because he wants to be, that he’s falling for you irrevocably just as you’re falling for him. 

“Sooo… that means?” You know you need to be brave now, because if this isn’t a dream, you’d never forgive yourself for not taking the leap.

“That means, if you want to, I’d love to have you as my girlfriend.”

“Isn’t it a bit rushed?” You don’t actually think so, but you still need to be sure.

“I’m all in if you are. I don’t want to waste any more time, and even though it’s just a report, I can feel there’s real truth behind it.”

Fast forward seven months, and you find yourself pressed against the shower wall like you do every night. But this time, it’s different—just hours ago, you made your first public appearance on a music show with Jungkook, just because you both felt ready, where he was not only nominated for Best Singer of the Year but won as well.

“Koo, right there, right there.”

It still amazes you how his cock seems to find your g-spot as soon as he enters you, though you wouldn’t want it any other way.

“Yeah? Right there, hm? Or is it…” he trails off, shifting his hips ever so slightly, making you realise he’s actually hit the centre point of your g-spot now, his hard, unrelenting thrusts pushing you over the edge without warning.

“Oh my goooddd,” your eyes roll back, mouth hanging open against the cool shower wall, as your cunt keeps gripping him even though it’s already creaming around his cock.

“Good girl, keep going, love. Show me how many you can take tonight.”

There’s nothing you can do, not that you’d want to do anything other than let him rearrange your insides. Especially not when his tattooed hand finds its way from the back of your hair to your jaw, tilting your head to the side, giving you the perfect view of his upper body—rivulets of water cascading down his chiselled form, lips parted, eyebrows furrowed. 

He’s the epitome of perfection. Not just a ninety-nine percent but a hundred. 

His eyes, though hooded, bore into your soul as his hips pick up the pace. It’s this connection you share with him make being with him feel so special.

“Koo…”

“I know, love, just a bit more. Can you be a good girl?”

“Yes,” you moan, because hell, you can. “Yes, for you…ah, winning the trophy.”

Even though you shouldn’t feel his cock twitch with the pace he’s set, you do, realising instantly what he needs tonight.

“Best singer, Koo…fuck…best boyfriend, only fucking me when, hmm, the whole world wants a piece of you.”

“Only you. Always you, ___, love.” You think you catch him licking a drop of saliva from his lips as he stares down at where your bodies connect, sending another wave of arousal from your stretched-out hole.

“You’re so big.”

“Just for you, fuck, squeeze a bit more.”

It’s not that you did it on purpose, but when his hand shoots down to your clit, circling it just right, your body responds as though it’s never felt this good, soaking him even more and gripping him tight as a vice.

“Like that, love, like that.” Jungkook grunts and pants, holding you harder, tighter as his cock seems to swell even more, pumping frantically in sync with your impending second orgasm.

When Jungkook can’t hold back any longer, it’s all you need to let go too, the rush flowing through your veins just as fiercely as the love you feel for this man.

After some time, Jungkook pulls out, helping you straighten up and lean against his chest under the stream. His veiny hands trail down your body, washing away his release dripping out of you, as he plants kisses along the side of your face.

When he’s had enough, he, like always, turns you, brushing the wet strands of hair from your face. And as you do the same to him, captivated by how content and in love he looks, you can’t help but feel like the luckiest girl in the world when, for the first time, Jungkook declares his feelings.

“I love you, till the day I die, ___.”

“I love you too, and beyond.”

Because this, because having Jungkook calling you his, is beyond probability.

a/n 3: lmk what you think in any way you like! �� If you liked what you read, pls consider buying me a ☕️ Ko-fi.com/runariya 💕

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[mingi-s-dimples]

Outage - Yunsan

KINKTOBER DAY 19, REQ. BY anon

~"Can you write a college au fic where Yunho and San are best friends living next door to the (fem)reader's apartment/ dorm. Both of them like the reader and they ended having a threesome at the guys' place (maybe she goes to their dorm during a power outage cause she's scared, you can decide the reason she's there). I'd like for the reader to be a virgin, whereas the guys are a bit more experienced. Yunho is a mean, rough dom while San is a softer, gentler dom and they work together to give the reader multiple orgasms in various positions." - I'm so sorry ml I would add all the details but it's gonna occupy all the space :<

pairing: yunho x reader x san

genre: 18+, filth, college au

summary: oops, energy's out on your floor. What a good night to go over at your besties, to finish your study session. Yeah, right.. you studied, for sure.. how to give a bj.

wc: 5.8k

warnings: college au, best friends, big dick!yunsan, reader is a virgin, finger sucking, fingering, multiple orgasms (A LOT OF THEM), like 3 orgasms by fingering and one by fucking for reader and yunsan having like two each... so lots of cummm, overstim, dacryphilia, bj, double penetration, yunho is a rougher dom than san, marking (LOOOTSSS OF ITTT), lots of eye contact, praising, pet names (sweetie, love, sweetheart, princess), unprotected, completely consensual, for sure forgot something, unedited might edit later.

Author's Note: it legitimately took me 5 days to finish this fic 🧍‍♀️ but it has 5.8k words so ig it's pretty expected 💁‍♀️. It is as detailed as I could write it, my love.. I hope you like it. Pls let me know if you did by completing the request form or by sending me an ask to my inbox! 🥰 I loved writing it, ngl... Enjoy, guys !!

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the members in any way.

The cool evening air nipped at your cheeks as you walked down the hallway of your apartment building with San and Yunho, your books and notebooks bundled tightly in your arms. Despite the demands of your classes, the three of you had fallen into a comfortable rhythm this semester, balancing study sessions with countless inside jokes, late-night ramen runs, and endless laughter. Living in the same building, with you just a few doors down from their shared dorm, had only solidified the bond between you.

"So," Yunho said, glancing down at you with a teasing smile as you reached the door to their place, "how much of Professor Lee’s reading did you actually finish last night?"

You groaned, letting your head fall back dramatically. "Please don’t remind me. I got, like, halfway before I passed out.”

San chuckled, brushing his shoulder against yours. “That’s better than Yunho and me. We didn’t even crack the book open.”

Yunho put his hands up in mock defense. “Hey, I never claimed I was on top of things! Besides, I was too busy helping San fix that stupid coffee machine he broke.”

San rolled his eyes, nudging him. “You’re the one who insisted on trying to ‘hack’ it to make double shots.”

“Details, details.” Yunho gave you both an exaggerated shrug, making you laugh.

As the three of you lingered in the hallway, the faint warmth of your playful banter started to drift. There was a stack of assignments waiting to be tackled, so after a few more exchanges, you decided to head to your own dorm.

"Alright, we’ve procrastinated long enough," you sighed. "I’ll see you guys later?"

San nodded, grinning. “We’ll probably still be awake at 2 a.m. if you wanna come back and cram together.”

Yunho gave a wink. “Or if you get bored, you know where to find us.”

“Noted,” you replied with a smirk, giving them a small wave as you turned and walked down the hall to your door.

Inside, your dorm room was quiet, lit only by the faint amber glow of your desk lamp. You settled in, organizing your textbooks and notes, trying to get into the right mindset to finally tackle your assignments. An hour ticked by, then another, and you began to make progress. But just as you were reaching the last few pages of your reading, the lights suddenly flickered. Then, with a low hum, everything went dark.

You stared at the darkness for a moment, blinking in surprise. The hallway lights were out too, leaving your entire floor eerily quiet and still. You grabbed your phone and quickly typed out a message to Yunho and San:

“Hey, my power just went out… Can I come over and finish my work? I can’t see anything here.”

The reply was almost instant. Yunho’s text popped up first: “Definitely! We’ll keep the lights on for you.”

San’s text followed a second later. “Come on over. We’ll even share the snacks.”

You smiled at their texts and went on packing everything you needed. Pens, the highlighters you always used for your notes, notebooks, textbooks… everything you thought you’d need. As you went out the door and locked it, you smiled and turned on the phone flashlight and went up the stairs to their dorm.

—

When you arrived at their room, Yunho opened the door with a grin, his eyes sparkling as he held it wide for you to enter. Inside, the room was cozy and warmly lit, shadows casting soft outlines across their books and scattered notes. The faint scent of coffee and something sweet lingered, wrapping you in an inviting warmth that made the tension from your dark, quiet room dissipate.

You placed your things on the table and settled into a chair, and before you even had a chance to fully adjust, Yunho shifted beside you. He leaned over, feigning interest in your notes, though his attention clearly lingered on you more than your work. His arm brushed yours, his fingers lightly grazing the edge of your hand, sending a gentle warmth up your arm.

“Feels better here, doesn’t it?” he murmured, his voice soft, almost inviting you to agree.

You nodded, trying to focus on the pages in front of you, but the warmth of his presence was impossible to ignore.

“Definitely feels better than sitting alone in the dark,” you whispered, a small smile creeping onto your face.

From the other side, San watched with a relaxed smile, sliding his chair closer. He rested a hand on the back of your seat, his fingers just barely skimming your shoulder, his touch grounding and comforting.

“Good thing you have us,” San murmured, his thumb brushing softly along the curve of your shoulder. The warmth in his voice, usually playful, was softer, almost reverent. He looked at you with a gentleness that made your heart flutter, his touch a calming presence that drew you in.

The room filled with a quiet, intimate energy as you all fell into a natural silence, the rustling of paper and the faint click of a pen the only sounds. But gradually, the space between you felt like it was diminishing, your awareness of their proximity deepening with every gentle touch and sidelong glance.

Yunho’s fingers began a slow trail along the length of your arm, a feather-light touch that made your pulse race, yet somehow left you craving more. His gaze held yours, warm and open, a subtle smile playing on his lips.

“You’re too quiet now,” he teased softly. “Usually you can’t stop talking.”

The words sent a shiver through you, and you managed a soft laugh, your voice barely above a whisper. “Guess I’m… distracted.”

San’s hand moved, his fingers brushing along your shoulder as his gaze softened. He looked at you for a moment, his usual grin replaced by a serious, thoughtful expression. “Well,” he murmured, “we don’t mind sharing a little… distraction.”

Surrounded by them both, you felt the pull of their closeness, each touch deepening the quiet understanding between you. The night continued in gentle, charged stillness, their presence speaking louder than words as you sat together, enveloped in warmth, comfort, and something that felt undeniably right.

The quiet atmosphere began to thrum with anticipation, an unspoken intensity filling the air as Yunho’s gaze lingered on yours, searching. He finally took a deep breath, and his voice, usually bright and playful, softened with a serious edge.

“I think we need to tell you something,” Yunho said, his fingers still tracing light circles on your arm, sending ripples of warmth through your skin. You looked up, curiosity and apprehension mingling in your expression.

He glanced at San, who gave him a subtle nod, his eyes holding a similar warmth as he looked at you. Yunho took another breath, a little unsteady, then met your eyes again.

“We both… like you,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper, but the weight of his words echoed in your heart. “San and I… we’ve talked about this, and we know it’s unusual, but neither of us could ignore how we feel.”

San moved closer, his hand resting gently on your shoulder, his touch both reassuring and grounding. “We want you to know that we’re here for you, together… if you’d want that too.” His voice was low and steady, but you could see the hint of vulnerability in his gaze as he waited for your reaction.

Your heart raced, the reality of their words sinking in, a warmth blossoming in your chest. You found yourself nodding, a small smile breaking across your lips as you whispered, “Yes, I… I want that too.”

A flicker of mischief sparked in Yunho’s eyes as he leaned in, brushing a gentle kiss to your temple. “You should know… we’ll take good care of you.” Then he paused, noticing the slight blush on your cheeks, the way your gaze shifted shyly downward.

“Actually, there’s something you should know too…” you whispered, the words tumbling out, heart racing as you admitted, “I’m… not experienced. I haven't, uh - had sex.. before.”

Yunho’s expression softened, a gentle laugh escaping him as he reached out to cup your cheek, his touch warm and steady. “Then, we’ll take it slow,” he promised, his voice tender. He looked over to San, who nodded with a smirk and a glint in his eye. “We’ll make sure you’re… well taken care of,” Yunho murmured, the reassurance in his words filling you with a sense of warmth and trust.

Yunho’s fingers slid down, grazing your jawline, his touch electrifying as he closed the distance between you. The air felt thick, charged, as if any moment of hesitation had melted away, replaced by something deeper, more primal. His eyes, dark with intent, flickered over your face, taking in every inch of your expression, every shallow breath. He leaned closer, his gaze settling on your lips, and you felt yourself drawn toward him, as if his very presence held you captive.

Just as his lips brushed yours, San’s hands found your waist, pulling you gently back against him. His warmth enveloped you, his breath hot against your neck as he leaned down, pressing a feather-light kiss below your ear. “We’ll go at your pace,” he whispered, his voice a soft promise, yet laced with that familiar teasing edge. His lips trailed along the curve of your neck, slow and deliberate, as Yunho’s fingers found their way to your hair, tilting your face back to meet his gaze.

“Are you still nervous?” Yunho murmured, his voice rich and warm. His eyes softened with understanding, yet there was an undeniable impatience simmering beneath, a quiet hunger that made your breath catch. You shook your head, a hint of a smile tugging at your lips, and Yunho’s own smirk grew as he finally, slowly, closed the last bit of space between you.

The kiss was tender at first, a gentle exploration, but you felt the fire building with each second. Yunho’s hands, no longer hesitant, traced down your back, drawing you closer as if he couldn’t bear the distance any longer. San’s grip on your waist tightened, his mouth pressing firmer against your neck, his breath sending a thrill down your spine. He sucked dark marks all over your back and shoulders, soft whines escaping your slowly rising chest. Every inch of you was surrounded by their warmth, their presence, until all you could feel was them, grounding you, igniting you, and filling you with a new, intoxicating sense of belonging.

“We've been waiting for this… y/n. For a looong time..” San whispered in your ear from behind, tracing his fingers on your body. He looked up at Yunho and gave him an understanding nod, to which Yunho pulled back, “Yes, sweetie.. you with that little smile of yours… and face. personality of yours…”.

In an instant, San lifted you up, his arms steady and strong as he carried you over to the bed, the movement gentle but filled with a kind of care that made your heart skip a beat. He laid you down with the utmost tenderness, settling behind you as he wrapped his arms around your waist. His hold was warm, comforting, and his fingers traced soft, delicate patterns along your arm, grounding you in this moment.

With San pressed against your back, Yunho moved to the edge of the bed, crawling forward to face you. His gaze held a softness that made you feel cherished, and as he took in every detail of your face, his smile was both gentle and captivating.

“You’re beautiful,” Yunho murmured, his voice low but full of sincerity. His fingers brushed a stray lock of hair from your face, tucking it carefully behind your ear. “Everything about you… just perfect.”

A blush crept into your cheeks at his words, and you looked down for a moment, but Yunho tilted your chin up, bringing your gaze back to his. “Hey, don’t hide from us now,” he whispered, his thumb brushing softly along your jawline. “We want to see you… all of you.”

Behind you, San nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his breath warm as he held you closer. “Yunho’s right,” he murmured, his tone soft yet intense. “We’ve been drawn to you for so long… more than we ever let on.” His arms tightened around you, the embrace protective and reassuring, grounding you in their presence. His lips found their way again on your neck, right under your jaw, where he marked you again. He was just oh-so-thirsty for you.

Yunho leaned closer, his forehead almost resting against yours, his voice a soft murmur. “It’s always been you. The way you laugh, the way you care about people… you’re everything we could have asked for.”

The gentle pressure of their touch, the way they held you so close, filled you with a warmth that ran deeper than anything you’d known. Their affection, their sincerity—it was as if they’d been holding onto these feelings for so long, waiting for the perfect moment to share them with you.

San’s hand moved slowly, gently intertwining his fingers with yours, his breath soft against your ear as he whispered, “We’re right here, and we’re not going anywhere.”

In their embrace, you felt safe, cherished, and undeniably loved, wrapped in the warmth of their closeness and the quiet intimacy of the moment.

Yunho’s eyes met yours, a hint of mischief glinting in his gaze as he leaned down, his lips brushing just below your collarbone. His fingers grazed along your shoulders, and he let his lips linger, pressing warm, slow kisses down the curve of your neck, making his way lower. Each touch felt like a silent promise, but there was something more deliberate in the way his lips marked your skin. The heat of his breath traced down to your collarbone, and as he pressed against you, his hands held you firmly in place.

With a quiet murmur, Yunho drew back slightly, his mouth leaving a faint, warm imprint on your skin, and turned to glance at San. His smile was laced with both a challenge and a hint of possessiveness. “I’m marking her everywhere,” he said, his voice low and edged with a playful intensity. “Let’s see who makes her feel it more.”

San smirked, his fingers still intertwined with yours, while Yunho’s hand found its way to your thigh. His touch was steady, almost firm, and he pushed your legs apart, creating space between you, his gaze tracing over your form with clear appreciation. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, the words gentle against the intensity of his actions. His fingers slid along the soft skin of your thigh, a hint of roughness to his touch that made your heart race. Every glance, every touch, held a kind of reverence as if he was both admiring and claiming you all at once.

Yunho’s eyes never left yours as his lips began to trail slowly downward, warm and intentional, leaving a path of tender heat across your skin. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading them just enough to make space as he leaned in, his lips pressing along the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. Each kiss was slow, deliberate, and every now and then he would pause, sucking gently at the delicate skin until he left a faint, possessive mark in his wake. His fingers tightened slightly around your thighs, grounding you in the sensation of his touch as he worked his way upward.

Behind you, San’s hand moved to your neck, his thumb tracing a gentle line along your jaw before he tilted your chin up, his own mouth finding its way to the curve of your throat. The warmth of his breath brushed against your skin as he pressed a gentle, lingering kiss just below your jawline. “Just let us show you,” he murmured softly, his tone filled with affection, his fingers moving to caress the sensitive skin beneath your ear.

San’s hold on your jaw made your head tilt back slightly, and you felt Yunho’s mouth on your thighs, trailing upward with unhurried intensity, marking you as he went, savoring each touch. The way they held you—San’s protective yet gentle hold from behind and Yunho’s firm, claiming presence from the front—made your heart race, filling you with an undeniable sense of being cherished, their attention leaving you breathless in the quiet warmth of their embrace.

San’s breath grew heavier behind you, and you could feel the unmistakable heat of his cock pressing firmly against your lower back, his restraint slipping with every moment. His hands moved to your waist, fingers tightening as he pulled you up, shifting you to sit fully on his lap. The sensation of him beneath you sent a warm blush to your cheeks, and you smiled, caught off guard yet undeniably drawn to the warmth and intensity of his touch.

Meanwhile, Yunho was still focused on you, his lips grazing along the sensitive skin of your thighs, leaving small marks that trailed upward, each one deliberate, each one claiming. His hands roamed softly along your legs as he pressed one last kiss to your inner thigh before he pulled back, catching sight of the subtle evidence of your own arousal against the linen beneath you. A playful smirk tugged at his lips, and he looked up, meeting your gaze with a glint of mischief.

Without breaking eye contact, Yunho’s hand moved slowly, confidently, his fingers trailing along your inner thigh before reaching that sensitive place, his touch both gentle and intentional. His fingers explored with careful precision, his eyes watching your every reaction, savoring the way you responded to each movement. San’s hands remained steady at your waist, anchoring you in place as Yunho leaned in, his gaze filled with both admiration and a playful challenge, entirely focused on you, caught in the moment they shared with you.

“You’re so wet already… I can see that you love being marked, is that right?” Yunho asked, his finger pressing against your clit, keeping eye contact with you. “Tell me, sweetie. You wanted this too, mm?” two of his fingers found it’s way in, your head falling back on San’s shoulder as you felt Yunho’s fingers curling inside you. He started to finger you, his long, slender fingers hitting spots you’d never thought would arouse you but here you were.. between the two men you’ve always dreamed of.

“Yunho.. let’s take turns, shall we?” San said from behind, your eyes widened at his words. What did he mean by.. take turns..? you asked yourself.

He smiled at San’s words. “Yeah, sure.. why not. But first, let me have my way with her..” Yunho said and curled his fingers inside you, hitting your g spot a couple of times, moans escaping your throat. “Then.. you can have your way with her and.. “ he circled your clit with his thumb, making you bite your lip, “we can both have our way with her.” San scoffed from behind, approvingly.

“Now.. let's see how much you can handle, sweetheart.” the taller one whispered and he worked both of his hands around your folds. His right hand was 2 fingers deep inside you, finger fucking you rapidly, building your orgasm, while his other hand had the thumb onto your clit, rubbing it in circles, sometimes putting pressure on it. You squirmed and squirmed in front of him and above San, until you basically couldn't take it anymore.

“Y-yunho..!” you started, but words dissipated fast.

“What, princess?” he smiled at you, your face flustered.

“I-i.. ngh.. gotta-” you moaned out the last word, head falling back once again onto San's chest.

“Use your words, pretty girl.”

“I- gotta… c-cum! Yunho, p-please…” you pleaded, eyes teary from being stretched out by his fingers.

Yunho’s smirk grew, his fingers maintaining that perfect, teasing rhythm. He watched you closely, keeping eye contact, catching each hitch in your breath, each tremble, like he was savoring every second. “There we go, princess” he murmured, his tone turning a touch more commanding. “Let it all out…” Yunho said and pressed all your sweet spots until you squirmed over his hand and came all over, creaming on his fingers.

San’s hold tightened from behind, his hands firm on your waist, pulling you slightly against him. “You think you can handle more, princess?” His voice had a rougher edge now, the soft amusement shifting to something more intense.

“Y-yes.. please..” you whispered, voice low and quiet.

“Then.. show us just how much you can take it, sweetheart.”

Yunho’s fingers pressed deeper for a moment, coaxing a soft sound from you that only seemed to encourage them. “Look at you, so eager,” he murmured, his voice velvet-smooth but with a hint of challenge. “We’re not even close to done with you, sweetheart.”

“C'mon, San.. come here. Switch with me.” the taller one said and lifted you, putting you down in his lap, right against his hard cock. He was.. way lengthier than San was but.. San was.. girthier, you'd say? Either way, you were slightly scared of how painfully pleasurable it was gonna be.

You were already out of it. Face sweaty, flustered, eyes teary and legs trembling, but they were not yet done. San's hand ran between your legs, his fingers tracing your thighs. He lubed them up on your own juices then pushed them in, his fingers girthier than Yunho's. Two fingers of his feeling like 3 of Yunho's, you felt yourself being stretched out even more than before. You were close to your high again, even faster than before as you were already aroused.

“You look so beautiful like this, my princes…” San said and sucked a mark on your thigh. Surprised, you moaned pushing your head back into Yunho's buff chest. His right hand went under your chin and slowly pulled your mouth to his, going in for a kiss. At first, it was a soft, tender one. Then, as your moans and whines grew more often and his groans revrebrating through your body, the kiss deepened and the knot in your belly started to feel tighter and tighter, until San curled his fingers into your g-spot and clit at the same time and you beautifully came onto his fingers for the 2nd time in a row.

“That's it, sweetheart…” San whispered

Yunho continued from behind, “Such a good girl..”

How Yunho called you sent a shiver down your spine. Yunho lifted you up onto his lap, sitting you straight.

“One more, sweetie? We promise it's the last one…” he said.

“H-uh? I-” you couldn't even talk, but you nodded your head in approval. The boys looked at each other, giving understanding stares. San pulled you to his chest, placing you on his thigh. You were basically sitting sideways on his lap, your legs spread out evenly. Yunho came under your left leg, in the same position San was. They both pulled your legs outwards slightly, resting on one another's thighs. (it's like they're really close to each other and she's sitting on both men's thighs, left leg over Yunho's entire leg and right one over San's).

They held you promptly and their fingers traveled over your body, Yunho’s hand resting on your waist, San's on your breasts.

“Are you ready, our princess?” San asked.

You nodded. That was it.

“Hold your legs and spread out, darling.”

Both men's fingers went for your hole, a loud moan escaping your throat as you felt both men stretching you in opposite directions. One another was softly pulling towards themselves, inserting each of them two of their fingers, as deep as possible.

They took their time, as if savoring the moment as much as you, their breaths steady and close to your ear, a soft warmth reminding you that they were fully present. Their fingers moved with an intimacy that spoke volumes, every subtle yet harsh movement letting you feel how attuned they were to every reaction, every moan, whine you made.

Their touch became more focused, the rhythm of their fingers overwhelming as you felt the tension building deep within you. San’s voice was a soft murmur by your ear, encouraging you, each word melting into the warmth of his breath, heightening every sensation. Yunho’s grip on your waist steadied you, his thumb brushing along your side in tender, grounding strokes, keeping you fully present in the moment.

And then, with a final, gentle touch, the wave overtook you, breaking over you like a rush of warmth. Your body trembled in their embrace, your breaths mingling with theirs as they held you through every second, their hands offering steady reassurance as the sensations washed over you in gentle waves.

As you came down from your high, tears formed in your eyes from the overstimulation. You came all over their hands and linen for the 3rd time, biting your lips in pleasure.

They put you down slowly on the bed, then both sat right in front of you on their knees. Their cocks were dripping continuously with precum, hard and throbbing, waiting for action.

“Goddammit… you look so pretty like this. Teary eyes.. all fucked out and flushed and we didn't even fuck you yet. Yunho, isn't she perfect like this? Imagine her after we fuck her… oh god.” San said, carresing your cheek as he wiped off some tears.

Yunho’s eyes darkened, a low, breathless chuckle escaping his lips as he took in the sight of you, utterly captivated. He ran his fingers along your trembling jawline, thumb grazing over your lips. “Perfect doesn’t even cover it,” he murmured, voice laced with a deep, possessive edge. “But I don’t think I can wait any longer to see just how beautiful you’ll look after… Come here.”

He stood, pulling you gently toward the edge of the bed, eyes never leaving yours. “Right here," he instructed, his gaze commanding, leaving no room for hesitation. "Let’s see just how pretty you can be for us.”

He raised his brow at his cock, but backed off for a second. He looked at you, and then at San.

San smirked as he looked down at you, his eyes filled with intensity as he took in the sight of you kneeling so prettily on the edge of the bed, exactly where he wanted you. One knee pressed beside your thigh, he leaned in close, the warmth of his breath brushing your skin as he lifted his hand toward your lips.

Keeping steady eye contact, he raised his brows and tilted his head slightly. “Open,” he instructed softly, his voice commanding yet gentle, coaxing you to follow his lead. As your lips parted, he slipped two fingers past them, a glint of satisfaction in his gaze. “Good girl. Now, close around them… slowly, just like that.”

His fingers rested on your tongue, and he watched, completely focused, guiding you with a calm authority. “Suck, nice and easy," he whispered, his voice darkening, "let your tongue glide over them… there you go.” His eyes flickered with approval, and he leaned in just a little closer, his thumb brushing your chin as he murmured, ���Show me how well you can listen.”

As you sucked on his fingers, coating them in your own saliva, he smiled at you, satisfied with your work. He then inserted one more finger, your tongue immediately moving and slurping around. After he was more than satisfied with it, he pulled out with a slight popping sound and backed off. He patted Yunho on the chest, who has been lazily stroking his length, looking at the two of you.

“Just in time.. I was going insane back here.” Yunho got closer to you, one of his hand tangling in your hair softly. “Open up, darling. Don't make me wait,” he said and tapped your lower lip with the tip of his cock, to which you opened your mouth and slowly took in his length. The corners of your lips stung as he slowly thrusted in your mouth, hurrying you to adjust to his size.

Yunho's breathing grew heavier as he watched you, his gaze dark and focused. Each slow movement seemed to be its own silent command, urging you to take more of him. His fingers tangled further in your hair, his grip firm yet tender.

You felt your cheeks hollow slightly as you adjusted to his size, your lips stretching around him in a way that sent a heated thrill through both of you. A soft whine slipped past your lips when he pulled back slightly, leaving you wanting more.

He chuckled, a low, knowing sound. “You feel so good, princess.." he murmured, his voice thick with restraint, though his eyes told a different story. You responded with a light hum, the vibrations adding to the tension building between you both. As his pace quickened, your hands found their way to his hips, steadying yourself as he guided you closer to his peak, mouth fucking you rapidly, feeling every corner of your mouth.

With one final, harsh thrust, Yunho’s breaths became uneven, his fingers tightening in your hair as his focus blurred, surrendering to the intensity of the moment. His low, rough voice spilled out in a shuddered exhale as he came. He looked down at you and nodded, urging you to slurp everything, “swallow, sweetheart.” and you did as told.

Just as you felt Yunho’s hand leave your hair, San took his place before you. He offered a playful smile.

Slowly, you welcomed him, the slight stretch challenging yet thrilling, but you never looked away. His hand reached forward as a tear slipped from the corner of your eye, a silent promise of reassurance as he swept his thumb gently across your cheek. With each slow movement, his thumb remained there, resting on your face.

“Fuck.. you didn't lie at all, man…” his head lolled back, biting his lip, “when you said she feels good..”

San’s breaths quickened as he found a rhythm, but he kept his focus on you, reading every reaction, every subtle change in your expression. He couldn't wait anymore. He wanted to cum and that was it. His hand pushed your head on his cock, making you gag and slightly choke on it. As he did that a couple of times he came right down your throat, urging you to swallow his load. It took him a couple of moments to release everything, your eyes teary as he kept his cock down your throat until the end.

“Damn.. that was hot” Yunho said from behind, his cock hard again, heavy in his hand.

“Princess.. would you be able to endure one round of… both of us fucking you, hm?” Yunho said, both men standing in front of you, keeping eye contact. “I just can't wait for my turn, you know?” he continued.

“I-uh” you hesitated for a second, but smiled and nodded shyly, looking up at him.

“That's our girl, man… look at her. Already flushed and ravished, but still wants more? Such a good girl…” San said and pushed you on the bed, crawling under you. He held you close to his chest as he moved up slightly and rested his back against the headboard. Yunho came from behind and kneeled right behind you, his hands resting on your waist.

“Are you ready, love?” he said from behind, your eyes looking into San's, not knowing what to expect. You nodded, and San was the first one to act. He thrusted as slow as possible in your cunt, your hands gripping the headboard as he let you get accustomed to his size. A loud moan escaped your throat, words stuttering as he started to keep up on a pace. Yunho did the same after he let you get used to San and as he started to softly fuck you, your eyes teared up and drops of tears fell onto San's chest. He wiped them off, in awe of your reactions and fucked you. harshness betraying his neediness for you.

“Fuck, you're so tight…” he said and his hands drove up and down on your back, trying to soothe you.

San’s hand gently caressed your cheek as you locked eyes with him, feeling his heartbeat strong and steady beneath you. His thumb traced over your cheekbone, wiping away any lingering tears "You’re incredible," he murmured softly, voice thick with admiration.

Behind you, Yunho’s hands remained anchored on your waist, fingers pressing into you in a grounding way. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “You’re doing so well.” His tone was a blend of awe and satisfaction, his voice rough but filled with warmth that made you feel completely safe.

As they both moved with you, their rhythm became an unspoken exchange, synchronized in a way that felt almost effortless. You could feel the tension building in each of them, both of them on the edge, breaths deepening as they drew nearer to their highs. San’s grip on your thighs tightened, his knuckles grazing your skin, grounding you both as he savored every second. Yunho’s hand slipped up your back in a soothing motion, his rough exhale brushing against your shoulder, each of them close to finishing.

As they fucked you for a couple of times, you came unannounced, your aching walls tightening around their cocks. Surprised, both San and Yunho came down from their high simultaneously, their huge loads filling both of your holes to the brim. They fucked you through your orgasms and slowly came down to a stop.

Yunho slowly pulled back, exhaling a long, satisfied breath. His hand lingered on your back for a moment, his thumb tracing gentle circles, grounding both of you in the moment. He offered you a soft, tender smile, cheeks flushed and breathing deeply. San's arms wrapped tightly around you, pulling you close to his chest as he settled back.

“You did so well,” Yunho murmured, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your temple, his voice low and full of pride. His fingers brushed along your cheek with a feather-light touch, his gaze filled with awe. “You’re so beautiful, love… can’t believe how lucky we are.”

San pressed his lips to the top of your head, his grip tightening around you as he whispered, “Such a good girl.” His fingers traced soothing patterns along your back. “Every bit of you is incredible, you know that?”

The two of them exchanged a quiet smile over you, their gazes warm. They both leaned in, pressing gentle kisses to your cheeks, to your forehead, each one tender, grounding, letting you know how much you were cherished.

“Let's get you washed up, alright?” San said and lifted you, carrying you to the bathroom and placing you down.

“T-thank you.. it was in-incredible.” you finally managed to form a sentence, both boys looking contently in your eyes. They smiled at your words and San gave you a hand, holding you tight while the taller one turned on the shower.

NETWORKS:

@blossomnet

@illusionnet

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

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[dilf-docs]

hii i just read ur eddie x young reader. And i LOVE ITTTT

Can u please do something similar but with young neighbor reader? Where the reader moves in an apartment beside eddie . They meet each one day and they hit it off? (nsfw )

(Ignore this if u don’t like the idea or u can change it)

Knockin' On Heaven's Door

eddie brock x younger fem!reader

summary: you're what people call a ray of sunshine, probably the most likeable person in the planet. so why is this hot idiot next door so mean to you?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (you know this blog lives by its name), smut, sunshine!reader x grumpy! eddie (cause his ass just got dumped lol), enemies to lovers (one-sided), kinda mean!eddie, porn with little to no plot, power goes out so they get freaky in the dark, use of pet names, p. in v. (unprotected) (use protection guys pls!!! unlike this dumbasses fucking raw in the dark), oral (m. receiving), creampie, no venom :(

word count: 4,069 words (it's almost midnight again, me thinks I've forever messed up my sleep schedule cause ain't no way inspo only grows as per my eyebags lol)

side note: got my first request on tumblr!! (insert scarlett johanson dancing in marriage story gif). i love looove the neighbours trope so much (hey! if i had a hot older neighbour i would be doing the most to interact with them, bet); hope this lives up to ur expectations even if i tweaked a few things! also, this happens after eddie gets dumped by anne and moves out of the house lol so he's angry, moppy, horny and dry. what if i make this a series tho, would you like that? requests are open!

You're what people call a ray of sunshine. Ever since you managed to talk, all that comes out of you is happiness: the first sound to come out of your mouth was a laugh, your first word was smile, you have Love as your second name, you made friends on real time record, the profession you chose was that of a patissier and the first ink to grace your skin was a little heart tattoo.

Okay, maybe you've made it your whole personality to be likeable. So what? It's not your fault you light up every place you go, that people love you effortlesly and that life seems to smile your way.

It's the way the cookie crumbles, a fitting phrase for a pastry chef like you. Your friends often joked about it: you, a sweet person, baking little sweet goods to make other's lives sweeter.

And you loved it: your life, your job, your family, friends, cat and little apartment in San Francisco.

There was just one thing missing: because no matter how sweet you made other's peoples worlds by existing, no one was there to make it for you.

Alright, you had enough love and just loved love for the sake of it. Sometimes, a tidbit of romance through your screen or through the couple-d lives of your friends sufficed such desire, but its a lie to say you haven't dreamed of your own.

So when Johanna, the girl who lives across you, comes rushing with the newest gossip: "hot new neighbour moving next door!", there's something that tells you it might be time.

"You have to see him" she emphasizes, "a total eye candy"

That ignites the curiosity inside you, and after some weeks hearing through your walls grunts next door and a constant shuffle of things originally packed in boxes, you find yourself knocking on his door, tray of cookies in your hands.

Yes, you did bake them for him. After all, your chocolate chip cookies are a killer! People do lines to get them at your aunt's cafeteria, just to taste the warm soft dough, the chocolate melting on their mouths. You do this for every other new neighbour that comes around, it's just how you are! But the cookie choice is totally intentional though.

The door flinges open, and for the very first time in years, you find yourself at loss for words; speechless.

The stranger before you is a face you'll never forget. Handsome, of course, but there is something alluring in his beauty, one you can't exactly name, but comes along in a pair of thick lips, brown warm eyes and ink sprinkled across strong arms. Your heart hammers in your chest, and it takes all in you to not drop the tray in your chest right here and now.

"Hey!" you find your voice again. Clearing your throat, you proceed. "You're our new neighbour, right? I'm y/n, I live next door. Thought you'd like something sweet to eat after all that effort" you push the tray to the front, "I made this myself!"

He just stares back, blinking. You think he may be confused by your random act, but it's quite normal to do so with newbies. You love welcoming acts!

The awkward stiffness he radiates doesn't deter you away, though. "This are for you" you insist, "or just take one, if you don't want them all..."

"I hate chocolate" he finally says, with such a scowl on his face, you'd think you killed his entire family.

Oh! He hates chocolate? Who hates chocolate?!

You suddenly feel small and stupid. Without much else to say, you don't know how to proceed. You have your way with words, but no one has ever rejected you in the cold open before. It's left you baffled.

Then, a light bulb goes on in your head.

"Wait, I know you!" he quirks an eyebrow. "You're that reporter from TV, Eddie Brock" you gush, "I love helping others, but what you do is amazing... you're, like on other level, giving a voice to those who don't have one"

You admired him; he was someone who was brave and cared.

"Not anymore" and then the door slams in your face.

It takes you a while to process there, standing in the eerie silence of the empty hall, that Eddie Brock may be the very first person in the world who doesn't like you.

In the end, you'd given the batch of cookies to the homeless people living around your building. Even if it made you feel good, the pang in your chest didn't go away. You simply couldn't forget about the incident (because of pride and embarrasment in equal parts), plus, the fact that he lived next door and you couldn't go on about your day without hearing him pace around his apartment, made the task of forgetting about it difficult.

So in the following days you've avoided him, which has been pretty easy so far, since he barely leaves his apartment and you're busy with work and stuff.

It's friday night, and with the next week's groceries in hand, you take the elevator. The door's about to close when it opens again. You can't believe it: after successfuly evading him for five days, Eddie Brock is trapped with you inside the reduced space; you shouldn't been lazy and taken the stairs instead.

"'Night" he mutters, and you swear you've gone deaf because you barely hear so. You don't know what to do, so you just stand there, clutching your tote bag a little too hard. It could be an accident: he's too drunk out of his mind and doesn't know it's you.

It's not like he's been so nice, but after his asshole-ish move last time you saw each other, you don't expect basic courtesy towards you either.

You get a whiff of his scent, mixed with traces of whiskey. It's unfair how intoxicating it feels―how it's got you wanting more of what isn't yours.

God knows it's been long enough since you've wanted a man this bad.

It's not until the elevator dings again that you realize you've been holding your breath the entire time.

"Bye, pretty"

He casually exits out into your same floor never looking back, without realizing the effect his words have on you, hope slowly making its way through the creaks of your open heart.

Okay, maybe it's your fault for raising such high stakes based on two words and a silly little drunk interaction. Maybe you deserve it: because you've become a bit obsessed with the fact that Eddie hates you, but after yesterday, you've already traced a truce in your mind.

Even Johanna has told you to be cool about it. "It's time someone didn't like you" she joked, but you didn't find it funny. She insisted it's not important, but to you it is! How can he not like you? Maybe if he had a valid reason, you'd stop insisting, despite the let down. But he doesn't have one! And you've been nothing but kind! You think too much about it because it doesn't make any damn sense: you're loosing your mind and your friend just laughs.

The only reason you haven't talked to him again, is because work load has catched up to you.

But now you're here, out on the street, and the first person you see is him: on top of his bike, ready to go out.

"Nice!" you chirp. It may not be a top brand, but the black vehicle is as cool as its owner: the leather jacket, worn out jeans and beat up look is an insane combination that may or may not have you drooling.

"Huh?" he looks back at you, and you swear your cheeks reddened in embarrasment at his deadpan expresion.

"Nice bike, I mean" you nervously laugh, fiddling with a loose string of your sweater. "I love seeing them, but I don't think I'll ever ride one. I get scared too easily, you know?"

He puts his helmet on, "Alright"

Not even a thanks or an attempt of a small talk; what an idiot. Didn't he talk to you last time? Called you pretty? Why is he acting so curt right now?

"Hey, what is your pro-"

Your question doesn't get to be finished, because the engine roars and he's out of there, leaving you confused inside a cloud of smoke, the trail leaving with your last sparks of hope.

It's one of those nights where you just want to lay down and let sleep take control of your body. As soon as you get in your comfy pajamas and sink in the mattress, a noise erupts through the air. Startled, you raise on your feet, the slumber long gone.

Fuck. This hasn't been your week, has it?

The noise comes from outside, and you know who it is: the guy who lives in the corner, right next to the window; he who brings too many women home and plays his guitar a little too loud. It's late an he isn't getting the memo, clearly.

You swing your door open, ready to give him a piece of mind (and perhaps dump your accumulated stress from the week), until you realize you aren't the only one outside on the hall. It's Eddie, and he looks just as pissed as you do.

"Can't sleep?" he asks in a mocking tone, all while avoiding your eyes, rather focused on the common enemy's door.

"What do you think?" you reply, equaling his tone.

You both agree in silence, walking to his door. After some knocking, the guy opens his door: less thrilled when he sees Eddie and more complaint when he sees you.

"Sure, sweetheart. I'll keep it down" and winks. The nerve of this guy. Even Eddie is frowning, surely annoyed at his lack of etiquette. "You can knock anytime, noise or not".

The door closes, but it's Brock who did it, not guitar guy. You're too tired to ask, and after picking what's left of your dignity around him, you decide it's best to walk back to your apartment.

"You know what's funny?" you stop your tracks, laughing, but it's devoid of amusement, "I lost my sleep".

He just stares back, and you're tired of the way conversations have to run by your side, for the very first time. You keep on walking, but as soon as your hand touches your doorknob, he speaks up:

"Goodnight" a small truce, you think. But you're not falling this time.

So you do the right think: walk inside without saying a word, and just like him, never looking back.

You wake up agitated in the middle of the night. It's raining: not just a normal rain but a huge storm. You look over at your alarm, noticing its characteristically red numbers are as pitch black as the sky above you. It's also thundering, and God, do you hate noises and thunder.

You jump again at another one cutting through the sky, and decide it's for the best to just stay awake until it's time to wake up. According to your phone, you have about three hours until morning rises. That's enough time to watch a movie or two. Even to pet your cat, which is laying next to your bed, clearly unbothered―unlike his owner.

But there's a problem: when you try to turn the switch, no lights go on. Your incredulous laugh ecos in the room.

Not only a storm, but also a fucking black out.

Scare slowly creeps up, and the shivers you feel are definitely not only because of the temperature drop.

So you grab your phone and head out, without clearly thinking and obviously in panic, because the first thing you do is knock on your neighbour's door.

Eddie's.

"Oh!" it takes a while for him to answer his door, but when he does, his phone's flashlight burns your eyes. "Sorry" he apologizes, and you don't know if it's for that or the fact he didn't answer; maybe for everything too, "didn't hear the knocking with all the thunder".

You say it's fine, that you're just checking to see if you're not the only one without light.

He flicks a nearby switch to no avail, "I'm afraid everyone in the whole building too"

Eddie probably notices your frightened state, the way you shiver like a lost puppy, and feels sorry.

"Wanna come inside?" he offers, hands inside his grey sweater's pockets.

For the very first time since you met him, he looks at you, but really looks at you: eyes roaming over your body, an all too familiar feeling painted across his brown orbs.

You realize a bit late what you're wearing: a teensy short and top, a set of pajamas that happens to be your most comfortable. Favorite too. Appropiate for this emergency meeting? Maybe not.

"You want me to?" you asked, confused. "I thought you hated me"

The only sound across the hall is the droplets of rain outside, some tapping in the window next to you and his apartment.

He looks rather embarrased, "I don't".

"Then you're just an idiot" you counter back, and he doesn't fight you about it.

"Fair" he says, "I can make some coffee?"

Maybe he's pretty convincing or you're a people pleaser, but as soon as he proposes, you're caving in just like that.

"Fine, but you better let me bring my cat"

Truth is, Muffin plays hard to get, but now he's resting in Eddie's lap―purring, as you two sip quietly on your coffee. Traitor.

"I used to have a cat" he says, cutting through the silence.

"Oh!" you leave your mug on his table, next to the candle; the only source of light in the room, "didn't think of you as a cat person".

"Tecnically, it belongs to my fiancée. Sorry, ex-fiancée" he makes a pause, "bet that cat doesn't miss me".

"I didn't know you had a, uh-" you're not sure how to proceed, so you trail off. Muffin jumps from Eddie's lap to the kitchen, lost in the dark.

"Yeah, I had a fiancée, cat, house, and job. Then I lost everything" he dry chuckles, humorlessly, "guess that's why I'm so bitter"

"I'm sorry" you say on the most sincere tone you can muster. Eddie wonders how can you be so kind and forgiving, especially after he's been nothing but an asshole to you.

"Doesn't mean I should've been a douchebag for no reason. You didn't deserve it" he apologizes, embarrased.

You stay in silence for some more time but then he says: "Not an excuse, but it's been real bad days"

The candlelight is so flickering, you don't know if he's seen your eyes, but by the way he gulps, you think he did.

"Maybe... I could offer a helping hand"

Why had you said that? Are you out of your mind? You barely know the guy, who, by the way, had been a jackass to you like, five minutes ago. But he's hot! And you love to help!

Jesus, talk about dignity and boundaries.

"Y-you would?" he stammers, but the way his hand travels to your lap reveals nothing but security.

He's not asking if you've gone insane or what exactly you mean by that: he's just asking if you would do it.

Would you help?

"Don't you know, Eddie?" your voice drops a sultry octave, "I love to help".

You lean close enough for him to smell the cinammon scent of your skin. Soon, he's leaning too, playing along even against his better judgment. It's too soon, but he's so drawn into you and can't resist it no more; ever since he met you.

His cock twitches in his pants, "help me, then"

It happens too fast, one second you're sipping on your coffee, looking like the most warm and softhearted person in the world and now you're on your knees, deep into his carpet, tugging at his belt with your teeth, a hunger he hasn't seen before in your eyes and filthy needy mouth.

Sex with Anne was sweet and normal. Vainilla. You smell like it too, but there's a difference: you have the appetite of a siren.

Using your hands, you remove the leather your teeth had beggin with, moving them to tug his ripped jeans down, pulling the zipper too in the process. You keep using your mouth, now to get rid of his boxers, where the outline is tight over his cock. Eddie finds himself so aroused to the point he feels hot, even if there's a storm outside and the candle barely provides warmth.

"You sure have a mouth" he mumbles in ecstasy, drunk in the sight of your glimmering lips, coated in saliva. He's dripping too: everywhere.

His cock bounces out, almost hitting you in the face.

"Look at you" you coo, "already dripping for me. What a pretty cock you've got, Mr. Brock"

Fuck, he's going to hell after this. But you can't corrupt what's already corrupted.

"Then you better show me what you mean"

You lick the tip, already leaking with precum. He tenses momentarily, and then stiffle a moan when you take his balls into your mouth, a similar sound coming from you. You suck lightly at them, running your tongue along the sensitive skin.

His hips buckle into your face, and you have to chuckle at the fact it's probably the first time he's ever has his dick sucked this good.

"Don't stop" he huffs.

You obey, tongue tracing along the underside of his cock until you're back at his tip. Eddie's still inside his drunk haze when he feels you taking all of him inside your mouth in one single movement.

"Fuck-!" he chokes out, the thunder outside shutting the vulgar sounds coming out of his plush lips. "Think you can take more?"

His large hand touches the back of your head and pushes it forward with force. His cock presses deeper into your throat, tip hitting the back of it. You feel yourself gag, but the wet spot that's starting to form in your panties says otherwise.

He twists your hair tightly, holding you in place as he fucks your throat with his cock. You feel tears, and Eddie thinks he's never had a prettier sight than you: glossy eyes, looking up to him as you take all his cock.

"I know you can, baby" he presses, "help me like you said you would, yeah?"

His fat cock is blocking your air supply, but the subtle motivation and praise in his eyes is enough to keep you going, thought your throat ends up bulging from the size of his cock, stretching out to accommodate his size.

You said you would help, right? And even if you always do it for the altruist reward, something about being used in such a vulgar and rough way has your chest and panties feeling warm.

Brock groans, body sweating and muscles tense. He yanks you up by your hair, chasing the orgasm like an animal, every movement feeling almost primal.

"Stay there" he feels it coming, "don't move".

You gurgle something, spit rushing down your chin and dripping onto your chest.

"It's almost over, sweetheart" his eyes roll back, head resting on the coach he'd barely used until now, where he's fucking you in the mouth, "I knew that filthy mouth of yours could take me"

You open your mouth wider, anticipating. Tension releases: and he's pounding out his orgasm in your throat, hips banging into your face. You swallow it all, even if you can't taste it since he was so deep in you. He pulls out, a string of spit connecting his tip with your lips.

"Thanks" his voice comes out rough, "you do know how to help those in need"

You wipe your chin with your hand, voice hoarse, "I suppose"

There's some silence afterwards, and now Eddie is cursing he doesn't know what else to say.

"Power is still out" he speaks, "we've got some hours left until the sun rises again"

"So what's your idea?" you giggle, "tell scary stories in the dark?"

You both laugh, but you stop and deadpan. "Please don't, I get scared very easily" and you pout those pretty lips of yours out. How can you be such an adorable but greedy girl? It's hard to believe you're the same person.

"Not that" he swallows thickly. Why is he doing this? Was a blowjob (a fantastic blowjob, by the way) by a young insatiable thing like you enough to make him go mad? "I want to help you too".

Before you protest, he's pulling you and sealing your lips with a hot kiss. His tongue slips into your mouth, playing with it. He pulls out, biting your lower lip.

"Eddie" you whine, "b-bed, now"

He's supposed to be older and smarter, so why is his resolve melting away this quickly? Following your orders immediately, your back bouncing on the soft mattress of his bed. As soon as you lay, his lips trail kisses down your throat.

"God, you smell so good" you giggle, "bet this pussy will taste as sweet, huh?"

His cold fingertips grace the fabric of your tiny shorts and the touch gives you goosebumps, "look at you" he tugs your panties, nudging at your cunt. "So soaked... is this for me, baby?"

"Yes, Eddie" the way you say his name is enough to make even the strongest man fold, his dick jolting in response. "Take it"

Both of you remove your clothes in such a hurry, you hope you haven't damaged your favorite pair of pajamas.

"Let me see her" he demands, so you spread your legs, revealing your dripping pussy.

When you kiss again, the underlying carnal desire is mutual, saliva connecting in a silver thread as you both gasp for aire. Your hands wander across his chest, fingers playing with his tensing muscles.

"I promise to reward her, okay?" he lines his cock up with your entrance, the fat tip nudging against you, sticky with precum.

You're desperate with anticipation, practically begging, "please do".

He pushes inside you fully, balls slaping against your sticky clit hard. He’s so deep, pushing against your cervix and stretching you out with each thrust, making even the task of breathing painful and laborious.

Brock feels like he's ruined you, yet you look rather content. You've been used to giving; your kindness of a caretaker nature. You're used to giving your all and not receiving, so with every new thrust against you, his hips slamming, you know you'll never feel this pleasure again with anyone else, the delicious sense hitting you in waves that make you feel dizzy. So, in a way, he has ruined you.

"That desperate for me to fill you?" there's no answer, but the sound of rain and skin clapping against skin.

"Yes, give it to me” you sob, "Eddie, please!"

"Focus on taking it" he guides you. It may make him a pervert, but he isn't changing the sheets any time soon; they'll be covered in you and he'll smell them everytime he gets inside them. "I'm gonna cum"

You moan, lightly tugging at the strands of damp hazel hair. He chokes out a husky groan, heat pooling on his stomach.

Eddie's dick twitches inside you, cum filling your eager insides with the biggest load you’ve ever felt. Your pussy clenches, spasming, wrapping tighter around his length in a needy way, your high coming almost at the same time.

Both your breathes come out in ragged pants. He nuzzles against your neck, skins equally damped.

"Fuck"

As soon as those words leave his mouth, the power returns. You should go now, as this is the reason you stayed, but none of you make the move to leave.

"Stay?" he pleads, "It's still raining outside"

How can you say no to those brown puppy eyes? Does he think he can fuck you this good and then make you leave?

"Alright" you swear he smiles, and it's the prettiest smile you've seen in your life. Could you fall this easily in love? "But turn off the lights: I have work tomorrow and need some sleep"

"Whatever you say, baby" he nips at your lower lip, "you know I love to help"

[antimisery-core]

ya’ll wincest shippers need de-wormer. i will not be elaborating.

[plutoarttv]

i don’t wanna ship it but they just so silly goofy :_3

[mischief-marauders]

Mary: Hey Lily, you said James is bisexual right?

Lily: Yeah he is

Mary (skeptically): Oh okay

Lily (laughing): What? You can’t believe James would be into guys?

Mary (watching James sitting on Remus’ lap and eating from his plate): That’s not what I wasn’t believing

[napping-sapphic]

I’m not cut out for even slightly more intense health issues than my usual stuff yall so here’s my will for when i die of feel too bad disorder: i’d like to dedicate my few life achievements to all the sapphics out there and also they can have all my stuff i guess

[rqsser]

do i have insomnia or have i just had a really fucking bad headache for two weeks

[lonelystarbuckslover13]

You have 13 written on the back of your hand, I have I ❤️ ? written on the back on mine. We are not the same.

[plsx3]

i don’t watch the alphabet soup show anymore, but here’s my totally not-biased-at-all prediction for season 4:

ricky & gina will not be end game, gina's chemistry w - whatever-his-name-is + making ricky hide the relationship will come to be too much. it'll all boil over & fizz out. they'll realize maybe they're not really meant for each other & they were both trying to hold onto feelings from 3 (4?) years ago. nini will show up to see everyone graduate, ricky will see her there, realize he's still deeply in love with her & that's part of why everything with gina felt so wrong. he'll go running into arms & they'll kiss & cry & be happy & ride off together into the sunset & everyone claps. the end ❤️

[doctordelicate-touch]

Hi!! Quick sorry for inserting myself into every single conversation ever!! Okay bye bye!!

[cryingonthem00n]

nooo don’t delete ur account ur so sexy

babe that’s kinda gay??

[dinosaur-stickers]

I fixed it

[couldyouforgivemeforthatpain]

idc if the last dinner party is an industry plant, nothing matters is soooo Fabian Prewett core

[i-want-cookies-pls]

Someone looks like they got a tiny little bit too invested in Barbie 2023 here /j

[fowlblue]

Well, also no, this is ‘The Fowl Twins’-era, so Artemis is in his mid-to-late 20s at this point, Minerva married and had a kid with an elf, also becoming a crime boss, after briefly dating Artemis (it didn’t work out), Beckett married a ghost, and Myles sort of has superpowers. The idea of a being considering Artemis and Holly as parental figures is just funny — the discussion is mainly drawn out of how technically she meets the definition of offspring, the idea that Artemis wouldn’t realise until afterward being incredibly in-character for him, even if not the focus of the main plot (that being more things like a random immortal man, an evil nun, and a regular little person impersonating a fantasy dwarf for years).

. . . Okay.

Artemis, regardless of whether this is Fowl Twins-era or not, was still a child when he met Holly and was such for the vast majority of his ‘screen time’. Holly has always been an adult, knew him through his child and teen years, and thus shouldn’t really be shipped with him, because it’s an adult with a child that they knew as a child for the majority of that time. Like a former adult babysitter trying to hook up with someone they babysat when they were little once they become 18. Like… despite it not being an A/H thing, are you defending A/H to me now? I’ve expressed countless times that I don’t like it either way and that’s not what this discussion is about.

(Anon, the way you are explaining this to me makes it out as if I’ve never read TFT or it’s sequels- I’m aware of where everyone else ended up, and have spoken about it before. Do you know like… anything about my blog?)

I don’t care if NANNI ‘technically meets the definition of offspring’- I reiterate, by that logic she’s not ‘Artemis and Holly’s child’, but the child of like… four people. Seriously, the emphasis on A/H specifically makes it look shippy. If that’s the case, then just admit it, or at least acknowledge how it looks. I don’t give a flying flip whether or not you ship it, but it looks that way to everyone else, regardless of initial intent.

At the root of this, breaking it down entirely, I don’t think an A/H ‘parenting’ dynamic is funny. It’s weird. Therefore, the joke, while slightly amusing once, is no longer funny, the sheer volume of asks regarding it is weird (especially towards artists), and the whole thing is just… odd. Really odd.