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deanbrainrotwritings · 5 months ago

Text

— i believe in a thing called love

SUMMARY : dean thinks you’re playing a game but he slowly realises you’re not.

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), unprotected piv, oral (f. receiving), fingering, edging, praise kink?, horniness

WORD COUNT : 4.2k

A/N : title from a song by the darkness. this fills the square amnesia for my @jacklesversebingo card. I’m sorry yall, I like cliffhangers 😔 (but there’s a part two coming, yay!)

You don’t remember ever waking up to a more warm and pleasant morning.

Usually, you woke up after sleeping however many hours you could have, and always felt like it wasn’t enough. Your eyes burned with sleepiness, your body felt heavy with fatigue, and your mind was clouded with the darkness of unconsciousness.

Not this morning.

You felt light and warm, like the vapour of your too-hot shower. Your bed was soft and your sheets smelled of sweet and flowery fabric softener.

You opened your eyes to a room blanketed in complete darkness. There was not a window in sight for sunlight to slither into and your stomach sank slightly when you realised that you didn’t know where you were. Or how you got to where you were now.

Your nakedness beneath soft, thin sheets made you feel vulnerable. You pulled the sheets up your body and started to get out of bed, only for the sheets to catch on something. No, on someone. A man who groaned gravelly and slightly tugged the sheets away from you.

Your eyes widened, your blood went cold with fear, and your body became hot with adrenaline. You froze as you thought of what to do and looked around to see if you could make any shapes while the darkness smothered you.

“Come back to bed, sweetheart,” he pleaded lazily, his voice thick with sleep making your skin prickle. He gave the blanket a lazy tug to encourage you, but you ignored him. You didn’t know him, the audacity. You simply released the blanket and blindly made your way around the room for clothes that you must have left somewhere.

You heard him sigh tiredly, the blankets rustled when he shifted, and the room lit up with the quiet click of a lamp’s switch and you yelped when you saw him, equally naked, in the bed. He sat up in alarm and looked around, before just staring at you in confusion.

His hair was a mess and he looked tired… but hot. His arms were thick and strong. His shoulders were broad and a familiar tattoo rested above his heart, beneath his collarbone. He wasn’t ripped like someone who was obsessed with going to the gym and dieting. He was so damn fine. The thin blankets came lower down his hips when he sat up inquisitively. His stomach became taut and you could see the faint lines of his abs. At least you slept with someone hot and not some creep. Well… he could still be a creep.

“Sweetheart, what are you doing?” He moved the blankets from his hips, subsequently flashing you his dick, when he began to get up and make his way to you.

“No, stop!” You shouted, covering your eyes before deciding to cover yourself instead. He instantly obeyed and froze on the spot, bewildered. “Cover your eyes,” you demanded exasperatedly.

“What? Why?” He asked, but he still covered his eyes with his hand. But who could blame you for quickly stealing a glance at his very pretty cock? “Did you start your period? You’re not due for another two weeks.” You blinked at him, astonished and disoriented.

“Uhhh, what? How do you even know that, dude?” You flushed with embarrassment.

“Dude?” He lowered his hand to give you an irritated look. The only reason you didn’t shout at him to look away was that he wasn’t staring at you like you were a piece of cake. “It’s way too early for jokes.” He shook his head at you and turned around to sift through the tall dresser behind him. Your eyes hesitantly dropped to his perky ass and you forced yourself to look away before he turned to you.

Forgive me. I am just human.

“Where’s my damned clothes?” You asked, leaning forward over the bed to drag the blanket towards yourself to cover up. He turned with a deadpan expression while he slipped his boxers up to his hips. But when you lifted your brows expectantly, he rolled his eyes at you and smiled sarcastically, flourishing his arms in front of the dresser.

He was kind enough to pull out a black shirt that looked like it was his, then pink women's underwear, and finally some colourfully striped socks. He handed them to you, but you backed away.

“No, I’m not wearing that,” you refused, looking disgustedly at the cotton underwear and the small socks.

“It’s yours,” he told you flatly.

“What do you mean it’s mine?”

He blinked at you boredly and dropped the clothes on the bed to cross his arms across his very sexy broad chest. “Alright. How long are you gonna keep this up?”

“I… uh, what?”

He smiled slowly and climbed up on the bed to get closer to you. Once he did, he reached for your waist and tugged you forward. Your heart thudded heavily in your chest and you clutched the blanket closer to your breasts. Even standing on his knees in the bed, he was taller than you.

“What game are you playin’ at, hmm?” He asked seductively, gently squeezing your side. Your lips parted slightly and your heart raced.

You studied his face, captivated by his beauty. The crinkles at the corner of his verdant eyes called to you when he smiled down at you. You could see he was doing the same. His eyes followed a path along your face until they landed on your lips. You couldn’t help following the same path on his own with your eyes. After letting your eyes drift across the curve of his freckled nose, the line of his jaw, and the attractive stubble, your eyes fell to his pillowy lips.

His hand moved to your jaw. He looked playful and your heart sped up the longer he admired you. His calloused hand gently slid up your jawline to tangle his fingers in your hair until finally, he dipped down and kissed you. His lips felt soft against your slightly-chapped lips, but he didn’t seem to mind.

His mouth moved lazily, yet expertly over yours. Your stomach fluttered and your breath hitched. As simple as it was, it felt amazing. His lips on yours sent waves of need and excitement through your body, electrifying your skin.

He clouded your mind with his kiss and your mouth slowly fell open. He cupped the back of your head in his hand and tilted his head, slowly becoming more firm and needy. Your hand released the sheet from your body and your hands found their way into his soft brown hair. He hummed lowly in appreciation and splayed his free hand across the bare skin of your back.

He carefully removed his hand from your hair, then you felt his hands move to the back of your thighs. He broke the kiss momentarily, his breath against your swollen lips made you dizzy as he hoisted you up. You clung to him, dazed and aroused, and he carefully dropped you into the bed again.

His knees parted your legs. You could feel your arousal dripping down as you were exposed to the room’s cool air. He almost instantly pressed his hips to your wet core. You could feel the warmth of his hard cock against your pulsing clit. You moaned softly and he gave you a charming smile that heated your cheeks in response.

He leaned down to kiss you again. This time, his tongue pushed past your lips. The warmth and wetness of his saliva moved against your tongue. He did it as if he’d done a thousand times to you—shamelessly, with craving.

His lips moved passionately, firmly against yours. His tongue brushed over yours needily, lovingly. He tasted you with hunger and pulled away with heavy breaths, ignoring the string of spit connecting your lips to his.

He leaned forward again, except this time—when you closed your eyes—you felt his lips brush against your cheeks. His warm breath tickled your neck and ear, so shivers trickled through your body.

You squirmed beneath him and wiggled your hips longingly.

“I’m gonna make you come so hard on my tongue, baby,” he whispered. You cursed softly. Your cunt clenched with excitement at the thought of him doing to your pussy, what he’d done to your mouth. You almost didn’t feel him press wet kisses down your neck until he sucked gently at your pulse.

He moved down your body slowly. Used his teeth, tongue, and lips on your flesh to hold you in his spell. He did it so precisely, fanning the embers to create a fire of desire that overwhelmed your body with lust.

His lips brushed against your nipple and your heart lurched. Heat pooled between your legs, followed by a warm wetness that you somehow knew would boost his ego.

“Tell me what you’re thinkin’,” he whispered against your breast before gently sinking his teeth around your nipple. His fingers pinched the other. How he expected you to respond was unclear as he teased your sensitive skin with his expert tongue and strummed at your flesh like a professional guitarist.

“How did I end up here?” You replied quietly, carding your fingers through his short hair. He chuckled softly at your response, moved on from one breast to the other. His saliva on your abandoned nipple enhanced the coldness of the room, causing your skin to tingle.

His laugh was a whole other thing. Hot and deep. Everything about him seemed to be that way. Hot and deep.

His hand sneaked down to your ribs, your stomach, and stayed there. Warm, heavy, huge, and calloused. One hell of a man. You bet he could choke you with one hand.

You moaned softly at the thought and squeezed his sides with your thighs in attempts to alleviate your desire. It was futile, but you had a feeling that’s how he wanted you. He smirked against your breast, you could feel the stretch of a smile on his sinful lips, and he finally moved on.

“You’re so desperate today, aren’t ya?” Amusement seeped into his voice, but there was nothing amusing about the way his hand finally moved between your legs. He slid his middle finger through your folds, slowly teasing your clit with ghostly touches. “Always so wet, baby, fuck,” he moaned against your hipbone.

“Please,” you whined, clutching his hair tighter. He sucked a lavender mark on your hips and slid his lips down to your pelvis.

“Yeah?” He teased with a smirk. You loosened your grip on his hair, just slightly. His green eyes sparkled up at you, but all you could really focus on was his finger turning to two fingers that quickly dipped into your entrance to gather your excessive slick. “Fuck.” Oh, God. No one should sound so hot saying that word, but your stomach seemed to flip excitedly when it sounded so pleased. “Look at that, sweetheart. You’re soaked, it’s gonna be so easy for me to fuck you.”

“Jesus Christ,” you whispered, your toes curled with excitement.

He parted your folds with his fingers and lowered himself to level his mouth with your dripping cunt. His warm breath on your wet heat made you squirm and your legs shamelessly opened wider for him. The Pied Piper of sex.

His eyes fluttered shut when he kissed your clit. You don’t think anyone’s ever done that to you before. To be fair, you can’t remember much and you don’t know if it’s because of his intoxicating sensuality or because of something much more serious. Quite frankly, you didn’t care as he continued to kiss you down to your clenching entrance with hums of appreciation vibrating through your desperate core.

“Please,” you laughed breathily, weakly attempting to pull his face closer between your legs. He perked up even more at that, and flicked his tongue against your clit, perfectly striking a nerve like a chord that resonated through your entire body and made you quiver.

He flattened his tongue from your aching pussy to your clit, slowly and loudly savouring the taste of your arousal on his tongue. He did it over and over before settling for lapping at your entrance where your arousal puddled. His moans were husky and praising.

You gently weaved your fingers through his hair and panted heavily. His nose nudged at your pulsing clit and his tongue pushed into your fluttering pussy.

“Fuck, please,” you whimpered, tightening your grip on the hair at the top of his head. He hummed against your core and roughly licked his way up to your clit. Quick flicks of his tongue on your clit made you writhe with pleasure. Curses slipped from your lips and all you could think about was the sensation of how wet your pussy was with his spit and how close to coming you were again.

You felt one of his fingers slowly push inside your cunt. He worked you open carefully with one thick finger plunged deep inside you and simultaneously began to suck on your clit. Your body became tense; you were right on the edge of your orgasm, but he moved away from your aching cunt to quickly kiss his way up your flushed body, to reach your lips.

“I wanna come,” you pleaded quietly, staring profoundly into his greedy eyes.

He chuckled playfully at you and slowly pushed a second finger inside you. His breath fanned over your lips and you traced the slick of your pussy on his smug mouth with your eyes. He stroked your walls slowly, skilfully pressing the pads of his fingers into the sensitive depths of your cunt. You clamped down in desperation for him to press over and over into your g-spot, but he wasn’t merciful. He wanted you to feel the length of his fingers moving deeply inside you.

“Say my name,” he murmured against your lips. You squeezed his hips with your knees as you squirmed restlessly. Again, he made you delirious with pleasure after a request so you could do anything but properly think. He angled his fingers into that delicious spot inside you, but the buildup of your climax was as torturously slow as the stroke of his fingers.

“Your name?” You gasped mindlessly, closing your eyes to focus on feeling him being in all the right places. His lips brushed against yours, ignited your body like a spark to hot-wire a car. His thumb pressed gently into your clit and he slowly drew circles.

“Dean,” he whispered bewitchingly against your lips. You felt his arm press into the pillow beside your head and he tenderly brushed your hair away from your neck.

“Dean,” you moaned—begged, heart hammering in your chest at his tenderness. His response was instant, with his lips pressed against yours, numbing your mind once more, but a third finger slid into your pussy so you nearly toppled off the edge again. After a few thrusts that left you moaning wantonly against Dean’s mouth, his fingers disappeared from inside you. “God,” you cursed in irritation.

Soon, the entirety of his warmth was gone from your body. His bruising kiss left you breathless and thoughtless, but you managed to open your eyes to watch him lower his boxers with his thumb hooked at the stretchy waistband—leaving himself completely bare again.

Dean bit his lip as he stroked his cock with his fingers coated in your slick. He seemed more than happy to have you watch. And you were more than happy with staring at the girth and length of him in his hand. His cock was pretty, beautiful even—if you could even imagine. Throbbing. Leaking precum at the tip so your mouth watered for a lewd long moment. You bit your lip and wondered what he tasted like—hopefully as good as he looked, how he’d fuck your mouth if you asked him to.

The sight of him like this made your arousal skyrocket.

“What do you want, sweetheart?” He asked breathlessly, slowly making his way closer between your legs.

The thought of his cock stretching you out instantly drove you crazy.

Once he was close enough, he leaned over you again with his arm beside your head again. He slid his hot cock through your folds and your breath caught in your throat. He moaned softly. You tore your eyes from where he coated you in his precum repeatedly.

“I want you… inside me,” you replied bashfully, heat flared up to your ears and you squirmed involuntarily—desperate to be fucked as you ruined the sheets beneath you with your slick. But over and over he teased your clit with slippery circles of his tip that began to build your resolve. He wasn’t going to let you finish and you knew it.

“Which part of me?” Of course he’d do that.

You became frustrated quickly and remained quiet to think of your next move. Dean had taken you to a point where your confidence was merely pent up sexual frustration.

You sat up and climbed into his lap without a single thought. As shamelessly as he’d touched you, you gripped the base of his cock. His lips parted and his eyes widened in pleasant surprise when you took his chin between your fingers and kissed him hard. He gave you full control and released his dick so his hands could find your hips instead and pull you closer.

He felt heavy in your hand, the throb and heat of him made your grip tighten in anticipation. He moaned against your mouth when you slowly stroked up his silky skin, slick with his precum. You thumbed at the slit, smeared his excitement around the head of his cock, and sucked his bottom lip into your mouth.

Dean groaned softly and squeezed your hip. He slowly let himself lay on his back and pulled you down with your lips still locked in a breathy and covetous kiss. You twisted your hand upwards, faster, and emphasised the movement of your fingers beneath the head of his cock. He pulled away slightly with a gasp and found his place between your legs to run a teasing finger through your drenched folds.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard… wanna bury myself inside of you,” he murmured against your lips.

“Oh, fuck,” you gasped instantly against his parted mouth, “yes.”

Dean kissed you hard and replaced your hand on his cock with his own again. He pulled away to catch his breath with you. Using his other hand, he brushed your hair out of the way and continued to pant for breath. He watched between your bodies, his throbbing cock in his hand, but you only watched him—curiously and longingly. He stroked himself slowly and he cursed under his breath when the tip finally breached the wet opening of your vagina.

Your breath hitched, but his name managed to slip out quietly. He hummed in satisfaction when you slowly lowered yourself on him. The delightful stretch of having him inside you weakened your knees and your pussy tightened around him. He thrusted upwards slowly, sliding his cock further into your wet heat, perfectly stroking your g-spot.

You pulled away a small distance and watched him become utterly enraptured. His freckled cheeks were tainted a deep red that spread up to the tips of his ears and down to his neck like a wildfire. He looked so fucking beautiful. His brows furrowed in concentration and his plush lips parted to release soft groans of pleasure that made your pussy throb around him greedily.

His eyes fluttered open and he leaned up slightly to reach your lips. He managed to land a small peck before you started lifting yourself up and down on his cock. A broken moan from him made you smile devilishly. He fell back into the mattress and squeezed your hips roughly.

“Dammit, you feel so fuckin’ good,” he praised breathily. You hummed softly and wrapped your hands around his wrists to guide his hands up to your breasts before bouncing on his lap faster, building a more steadfast rhythm.

“I love the way you feel, too,” you moaned softly, aroused at the sound of Dean’s cock entering your wet pussy and your skin hitting his when he was buried so deeply inside you the breath was nearly punched out of your lungs in surprise.

“You’re so unbelievably beautiful,” he continued to worship quietly, pinching almost painfully at your nipples, then teasingly brushed the pads of his thumbs over them—maybe soothingly. You moaned and leaned back with your hands on his thighs the closer you got to your orgasm.

One of Dean’s hands moved away from your breast to slowly slide down the front of your body. You watched him stare up at you, adoring you with his touch and lauding you in between groans and gasps of ecstasy. He squeezed your thigh encouragingly and cursed at the way you clenched your cunt around his sensitive cock.

You allowed yourself to close your eyes and let the pleasure of riding him saturate your mind and body. His hands moved along your body, praising without words when all he could do was groan and pant lewdly at your enthusiastic fucking.

He kneaded your breasts, squeezed your flesh, scratched gently at your skin. You were teeming with bliss and you were embarrassingly wet, but everything about him made you pathetically horny and he appeared to absolutely love every second of it.

Dean’s hand finally moved between your legs to find your clit and rub it continuously. His hips bucked upwards when you whined his name and clamped down on his cock as you orgasmed. Your body shook above him and he hummed low in his throat, partially amused, but mostly satisfied.

His thumb rubbed furiously at your clit—dilating the duration of your orgasm, intensifying it—and only stopped when you couldn’t handle it anymore. Your whimper and the way you weakly draped your body over his with your forehead pressed into his warm shoulder, stopped him.

You couldn’t process much after that, but soon your face was pressed into his pillow and your pussy was getting filled again with his cock. His fingers bruised your hips and you gasped out moans as your second orgasm began to build.

"Shit, you love it like this, don't you, sweetheart?" You were flustered by the soppy sound of your cunt every time he pounded into you from behind, but you were partially grateful that he was close to finishing. A perplexing, carnal part of you wanted him to keep ploughing into your pussy until you ached.

“Fuck, you’re such a good girl,” Dean praised gruffly. You only whimpered brokenly in response as he fucked you through the squelch and wetness of your second orgasm. Your toes curled with the unbelievable sensation that seized your body when you felt his cum fill you with warmth. His release slipped between your thighs in a mixture with yours and you cried his name as your walls pulsed around his throbbing cock.

Dean released you and your body sank completely into the soft mattress. He panted against your shoulder and murmured praises with his comforting hands sailing along your body.

Your mind slowly returned to the real world and the beat of your heart slowed to its normal rhythm. You were exhausted and you wanted to clean yourself up, but Dean had other plans for you: staying in bed and cuddling.

You willed yourself into getting up out of his bed. You sat up—his arm loosely around your waist—and became aware of the lack of windows and the wooden stake that rested at the far end of the little platform—a shelf really—he had above his bed next to a little fan.

“Um…” you trailed off, wiggling out of his arm to slide out of the messy bed.

“You’re seriously not gonna stay in bed?” He questioned you as you looked around, attempting to ignore the rest of your mixed release dripping from between your legs. You felt his fingers move between yours, then a sharp tug pulled you back in bed. Your legs were shaky so you ended up right back where he wanted you to be—in his embrace.

“Yeah,” you laughed awkwardly. You squirmed and wiggled until he finally released you, “I don’t know you and I need to… get back… somewhere, home.” He sat up on his side and stared at you blankly for a few seconds. No, he’s too beautiful.

You looked away and decided to pull “your” clothes from where he’d thrown it to get something to cover your body now that your post-orgasmic brain was becoming logical and self-conscious.

“Babe, drop it, we’ll play that game later,” he dismissed you with a cute snort. You groaned at him when he snagged his shirt from your hands. He slowly peppered kisses along your neck and shoulder and you were unable to fight him.

“Dean, I’m serious,” you tried weakly and gripped his hair to pull him away as gently as you could. You turned to look at him again and he backed off. “Look at me and tell me if I’m lying to you.” He rolled his eyes but held your gaze for a few moments as he contemplated you.

You saw the amusement on his handsome face but you continued to frown. The amusement faded into perplexity and concern.

“Ah, shit,” he muttered.

—> stone flower

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#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #dean x female!reader #dean x reader #dean x you #dean x y/n #dean winchester smut #dean winchester fan fiction #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female!reader

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crimsonbubble · 1 year ago

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no bc just imagine how sexually frustrated miguel would be after chasing you around like cat and mouse… the breeding has entered the chat

cw. nsfw, afab!reader, breeding kink, creampies, hair pulling, degradation, overstimulation, a bit of manhandling, improper use of webs *not proofread, just pure horny

[I want him so bad why can't he be real 😔😔😔]

MINORS DNI!!

he's getting tired of this, but your pretty eyes and soft lips draw in him each time he swore that he wouldn't fall for your games. as tired as he is, he always lets you get away with it.

letting you get away with it a little too easily. though now he's stopped his chasing, trying to keep himself occupied to stop himself from playing into your games. he can feel your eyes on him, burning into his back as he continues working through anomaly reports.

as you tried to sneak up on him, you felt something spread across your chest, wrapping around your arms. with a sharp tug, miguel pulled you into him. you collided with his chest, a hand holding his webs and a hand on your lower back. you struggled against the webs, only making him spread more around you.

miguel quickly tugged your mask off, a smirk playing on his lips as he saw the shock written on your face. "not so tough now, huh?" you struggled against the webs again, trying to pull yourself away from him. "don't try and run from me now, you earned this."

miguel let out a grunt, pushing you up against his desk. he pressed a heavy hand to your back, webbing your wrists together. with little to no care, his talons rip through the crotch of your spider suit. the cloth is torn to shreds on the platform. "you've been nothing but a pain in the ass,"

miguel takes in the sight of you bound in crimson webs and bent over his desk. "a real thorn in my side." you try to peer over your shoulder only for miguel to press your head down to his desk. "we're not done til I say we're done." he disengages his suit with a flash, grinding his throbbing cock through your folds.

"you're lucky I'm even letting you have my cock." he says this yet he's just as needy for you as you are for him. the back and forth, the pushing and pulling, the cat and mouse games; he loves them but sometimes all he really wants is to web you up and fuck you til your legs give out.

and that is exactly what he's going to do. miguel lets his own fantasies and desires lead him, letting himself act on his impulses. miguel bottomed out in one sharp thrust, your walls convulsing and tightening around him as he fucked you. each thrust was heavier than the last, hips hips knocking you up further onto his desk.

with the hand pushing your face into his desk, he's tangling his fingers into your hair, pulling your head back as he rocked his hips into yours. you can't get words out because of how rough his pace is. miguel set a hand on your hip, using it to pull your ass back on his dick.

every thrust in and pull back forced his cock deeper, stretching your walls to accommodate his size. you're practically seeing stars shoot across your vision, mouth hanging open with each moan and cry that leaves you breathier than the last. with how easily miguel is leading you to orgasm, you know that you're not getting out of this for a while.

"only the first and you're already this fuckin' messy, huh?" the condescending tone makes your pussy flutter, as miguel tracks a finger over your pulsing clit. he rubs circles against the throbbing bud as you tumble head first into another orgasm. "m-miggy-" the words are caught in your throat, being passed by lewd cries and heavy moans.

your slick is gushing around his cock, and the wet noises of skin on skin finally make it to your ringing ears. miguel pushes your head against his desk again, grunting as he speeds through his release. it's a flood of warmth as miguel keeps his pace, groaning as much cum spills out of you. "fuck, look at you. such a messy little thing."

you can't tell up from down as miguel guides you to another orgasm. you're trying to alleviate the heavy plows of his hips by raising to your toes, but it only motivates miguel to go even harder, as if he's trying to knock the sense out of you. your eyes are blurring with tears, the stinging of the overstimulation starting to bite.

in a feeble attempt at pushing miguel away, he pins your wrists against your back. he uses it as more leverage to pull you back on his cock, letting another heavy load paint your walls white. "it's okay, take it just like that." the moans he's letting out are deep and guttural, a noise you would've missed if you weren't being drowned in his mere presence.

you're struggling against the webs again, the tingle of the overstimulation reaching new heights. miguels superhuman nature granted him increased stamina and endurance, making it easy for him to ride out his second high while you're crashing through your third. "c'mon now, is that all you got?"

you outwardly whine at his words, pushing your hips back to meet him halfway. miguel leans down, his chest to your back as he kisses up your neck. his fangs pushed against your skin, lightly grazing it with a featherlike pressure. it's as if he's teasing the idea that he could sink his teeth in. he very much could but he wants you to feel everything that he's doing to you.

he's got you trapped, and he doesn't intend on letting you go any time soon.

#bubbly speaks <3 #ash answers #bubbly writes <3 #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel x you #miguel x y/n #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara headcanons #miguel o'hara imagine #spiderverse x reader #spiderverse x you #spiderverse x y/n #spiderverse smut

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raven-dor · 3 months ago

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Hi loves!!

I love your gwayne Hightower fics!

Can I have a request of gwayne x Targaryen reader (reader is rhaenyra’s young sis) where they are married for a while now then blood and cheese happened instead of jaeherys, one of their twins got killed 😔 and they’re both devastated

but still reader loves her sister (of course) and knows it’s not her fault

Thank you !! Sorry for any wrong grammars😅

are you satisfied?

In which gwayne hightower and his wife, rhaenyra targaryen’s sister, experience a great tragedy

PAIRING: gwayne hightower x targaryen!reader

WARNINGS: death, fighting, typical HOTD violence, like three swear words, 'betrayal'

WORD COUNT: 3.5k

AN: gwayne and the reader's children's names are Visenya and Velarion, and the reader is the rider of Silverwing

Gwayne always loved the fact that his wife’s violet eyes and bright white hair had transferred to their children. He thought his wife was far more comely than he, and he thanked the gods his children hadn’t received his looks.

(Y/N made him swear to stop saying such things, that he was extremely handsome.)

He smiled as his wife played hide and seek with their twins, pretending not to see their obvious hiding spots. She was an amazing mother, he told her as often as he could. His own mother had been cold, choosing court life over raising her children on more than one occasion. He had still loved her dearly, but it seemed, as he grew older, that that love was not returned.

Over time, Gwayne had come to realize that his distaste for King’s Landing stemmed from his mother’s choices. When he had returned for the tourney celebrating the new heir, Prince Baelon, he found a reason to enjoy its high walls. Princess Y/N was a year younger than her sister, but it seemed as if she was much wiser and more deliberate in her decisions.

Because Y/N had loved King’s Landing, he had pretended to enjoy the place. He couldn’t stand to see the look of disappointment stretch across her beautiful face.

So when Alicent sent a letter to Gwayne asking him to bring his family to King’s Landing, he couldn’t refuse. But he so wanted to. Y/N sensed his distaste immediately. She knew him too well, he would say.

His wife hadn’t wanted to return to King’s Landing either, her childhood home turned into that of a prison. Bringing their children, she argued, would put their whole family in danger. Gwayne had agreed, but how could he refuse the Dowager Queen?

Y/N hadn’t supported Ageon’s claim, being very forthcoming with her husband when the topic arose. Gwayne remained stoic, never letting anyone know of his true opinion, not even his dear lady wife. If he had backed Rhaenyra, he reasoned with himself, his family would have been killed, and it wouldn’t have mattered that he was the Queen’s brother. If he told Y/N he supported his nephew, she would surely shun him. Which was almost as horrible as any punishment he could have received.

Gwayne laughed as his son, Valerion, dashed across the room, hiding behind his father’s legs. The young boy looked up at his father, putting a finger to his lips. “Don’t tell her, Father.”

Gwayne nodded, looking back to his wife, who was smirking. “Oh where, I wonder, is my little boy?” She looked over at the curtains, ripping it open. “He is such a clever boy, I am sure I will never find him.”

Valerion giggled, and Y/N whipped around, laughing. “What was that?” She looked to her husband. “Did you hear that, my love?”

Gwayne shook his head, forcing himself to remain stoic. “I believe you are imagining things, my dear.”

Valerion giggled again. “She’ll never find me.”

Y/N practically bit her hand. “I keep hearing his voice…” She tiptoed over, jumping behind Gwayne and tickling their son. “I got you!”

Visenya peeked her head out from under the bed. “Does that mean I win?”

Gwayne let loose a loud laugh, gripping his stomach. “You are the champion, my dear.” He walked over, grabbing her from her hiding spot and spinning her around. “Bravo.”

Y/N sighed, hugging Valerion tightly. Their son squirmed, pushing away from his mother. “Mummy please. I’m grown-” Y/N gasped, looking at her son with fake hurt in her eyes.

“You are too old for embracing your mother now?” She sat him on the floor, pretending to cry. “You are six years old now, I should have known.”

Valerion glared playfully at his mother. “Don’t cry, Mummy.”

“I can’t help it.” She giggled. “Soon you’ll be gone and I will never see you again.”

His eyes widened. “But I don’t want to leave!”

Y/N stopped ‘crying’ and looked down at their son with surprise. “Well, that is good news.” She picked him up, hugging him tightly once more. “I suppose you wouldn’t mind if I tucked you in then?”

He shook his head. “Can you tell us a story?”

Visenya nodded eagerly. “Please Mother.”

Y/N sighed, like she was contemplating if she was going to tell them a story or not. “Well, if you insist…”

Gwayne smiled, setting Visenya down. “Be good for your mother, you two.” He walked over, kissing Y/N on the cheek. “Don’t stay up too late, darling.”

The twins looked repulsed, scrunching their noses. Valerion groaned.“Father…”

He looked down, smiling warmly. “One day, your children will make the same noises of disgust at you and your wife, Valerion, and I will remind you of this day.”

Valerion looked disgusted. “I will never marry. I will be free with my dragon, and we will fly across the seven kingdoms.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “If only it were that simple, my sweet boy.” She clapped her hands, ushering the twins out of the room. “Now, time for bed.”

Visenya yelled. “And a story!”

Y/N nodded, shutting the door behind her. “And a story.”

The twins' eyes drooped, but Y/N continued the story, knowing that if she stopped, she would be scolded. “And then Rhaenyra and I boarded our dragons, flew to Dragonstone, and retrieved our brother’s egg from our Uncle.” She smirked. “Your grandfathers were furious.”

Valerion whispered. “Do you miss your sister, Mother?”

Y/N nodded, her eyes tearing up at the thought. “Everyday my boy.” She pushed his hair out of his eyes, kissing his forehead gently. “Just as you will miss yours one day.”

Visenya laughed. “We will never be apart. I will make sure of it.”

Y/N smiled. “Goodnight children.” She stood up, walking over to her daughter and kissing her forehead. “Sleep well.”

She took one last look at the pair, almost laughing at the fact that they were already asleep. She blew out their candle, shutting the door gently behind her. She had gotten halfway back to her chambers when a child’s scream echoed through the halls.

Her blood curdled, and she whipped around racing back towards their chambers. Pulling her dagger out of its sheath, she pushed their doors open, whispering. “Childre-” Her eyes widened, and she glared, gripping her dagger tighter. “Who are you?”

Two men stood in front of her twin’s beds, rat traps over their shoulders. The taller one turned around and Y/n recognized him immediately as one of the City Watchmen. His eyes widened. “Your Highness.”

She put on a brave face, but her heart was racing. “What are you doing Sergeant?”

The man ignored her, hissing at his accomplice. “This is the wrong room. He wouldn’t want her chi-”

The smaller man interrupted, gesturing back to the Princess. “It’s too late. She’s going to tell.”

Y/N shook her head, whispering so that her children wouldn’t wake up. “I won’t. Just don’t hurt my children, and I swear I won’t.”

The small man ignored her, lowering his dagger towards Valerion’s neck. The Sergeant hissed. “That’s not who he wanted.” Reaching his arm out, he pulled the ‘rat catcher’ away from the bed. The ‘rat catcher’ jumped, and his knife fell out of his hand, plunging into her son’s neck.

Y/N gasped, a hand covering her mouth. The room was silent, none of them moving.

The Sergeant looked panicked. “Your Highness-”

A tear fell, and she looked up at the pair, whispering. “You are going to pay for that.”

She walked forward, raising her dagger and plunging it into the murderer’s neck before either of them had the chance to defend themselves. She later would say that it served them right, they carelessly murdered her son, and so she simply returned the favor.

The Sergeant pushed her away, grabbing his dying accomplice and racing towards the tunnels. She screamed, falling to the floor. Visenya stirred, her eyes opening slowly. “Mummy? What-”

Y/N wiped away her tears, ripping her daughter out of her bed. She shoved Visenya’s face into her neck, whispering soothingly. As soothingly as she could for just witnessing her son’s murder. ”Go back to sleep my love.”

Visenya’s eyes fluttered. “What about-”

“Shh, my dear.” Y/N felt her eyes well up. “Shh.”

Tucking Visenya in on the couch in their shared chambers, Y/N stalked towards their bedroom, her heart beating against her chest. “Gwayne.” She hissed. He stayed asleep. Anger raced through her veins, how could he sleep through this? She shook him harshly, on the verge of yelling. “Wake up.”

He grumbled, rolling over. “What is-” His eyes widened, throwing the covers off as he examined his wife. “You are drenched in blood.”

“Gwayne…” She sobbed, falling to the ground as he watched helplessly. “He’s dead.”

Gwayne felt worried, and sat beside his wife, rubbing circles into her back. “Who is dead, my love?”

“Valerion.” She wailed, throwing herself into her arms as more tears streamed down her face. “Valerion!”

Gwayne’s heart dropped. “What?”

“They-”

“Who?” He grabbed his wife’s arms, eyes piercing into hers. “Who?”

“I don’t know. Some rat catcher and a-” She sobbed again. “A City Watchman.” He stood and grabbed her hand, pulling her out of their room and back toward their children’s chambers. Y/N fought against her husband's hold, still violently sobbing. “No, Gwayne please do not make me go back.”

He stopped, realizing that she had truly seen everything. “My love, we have to. We need-” He choked on a sob he hadn’t known was forming. “We need to be strong for a little longer.”

Without waiting for her response, he pushed the twins’ doors open, their son lying lifelessly in his bed. He let go of Y/N’s hand, racing over to Valerion’s side. He gently pulled the knife from his son’s chest, pushing his bright white hair out of his eyes. “My boy.”

Y/N wailed once more. “Valerion, this isn’t funny, you’ve upset your mother.” His throat felt as if it was closing up. “Valerion, wake up right now.” He felt his son’s throat, finally accepting his death when he felt no pulse. He fell back, staring at the bed. “We need to notify someone.”

“Who?” Y/N cried. “Alicent? My drunken half brother of a king?”

“Anyone in the Keep, Y/N.” He stared at their son. “How did this happen?”

She simply shrugged, climbing up off the floor. “I must leave.”

His head whipped over, staring at his wife in shock. “You are leaving?”

“I will be back, I swear to you.”

“Where are you-”

“Leave it!” She snapped, a rage in her eyes that Gwayne had never seen. He nodded, watching as she walked out of their children’s room and down the hall.

Dragonstone was quiet, Y/N noticed. Of course it was, night still covered its dark walls. She landed Silverwing on the hill above the castle, stalking toward the entrance. “I demand to see my sister.”

The guard laughed. “And you are-”

“Y/N.” Rhaenyra stepped out from the shadows. “What are you doing here?”

“My son has been murdered.” She slapped a hand over her mouth, another sob breaking out. “He’s dead, Rhaenyra.”

Rhaenyra ushered her sister inside, out of the watchful eyes of her family and advisors. Rhaenyra closed her chamber doors, and sat her sister down, kneeling in front of her. “What do you mean-”

“My son has been murdered. That is what I mean.” She glared at the older woman. “Did you-”

“Seven hells, Y/N. Of course not.” She took Y/N’s hands in hers. “Do you really think that I would order the death of a child, let alone my sweet nephew?”

“I just-” Y/N sighed. “I had to make sure.” Taking one last look at her dear sister, she stood, nodding. “I will see myself out.”

Rhaneyra watched as her sister glided across the room. Just as the door opened, she cried out. “I miss you.”

Y/N smiled. “I miss you too.” She’d almost reached the exit of the castle when she felt eyes following her every step. “Iēdrosa hiding isse se shadows, nyke ūndegon. (Still hiding in the shadows, I see.)”

He stepped out, his face taking in the sight of his ‘traitorous’ niece. “Iēdrosa married naejot se hightower orvorta, nyke ūndegon. (Still married to the Hightower cunt, I see.)”

She held her head up high, glaring at her uncle. “I’ll have you know that cunt is a good man. A better man than you will ever be.” Guilt flashed across his face, but she continued. “I don’t appreciate your insinuation that I support the usurper that is my half brother, and if you repeat that mistake again, you will have more than my words attacking you.” She nodded, walking past him. “Goodbye, Daemon.”

Visenya had been wailing for days. Wailing over the death of her brother, and wailing over the fact that neither of her parents could look at her without tearing up. The couple sat beside each other at dinner, scarcely eating or speaking. Alicent sighed. “It does your daughter no good if you die of hunger.”

Y/N looked up from her plate, tilting her head, hoping she had just misheard. “What did you just-”

Gwayne grabbed her hand tightly under the table, signaling to not pick a fight. “Quite right, sister.”

Alicent smiled. “We are very fortunate.”

Y/N fought against her impulse to pull her dagger out and commit a massacre. “How so?”

“That they had the children’s rooms confused.”

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut. She must have been hallucinating. “Excuse me?”

“I only meant it would have been quite catastrophic if the assassins had found Jaehaerys instead of Velarion.”

Y/N smiled, and she could tell it had unnerved Alicent. “Yes, because my son is much less important than the heir to the throne. Thank the gods it was Velarion instead of Jaehaerys.”

Gwayne stilled, setting his silverware down. Alicent’s cheeks flushed. “I hope I did not upset you.”

Y/N laughed, so loudly that the whole room stopped talking, staring at the woman drowning in her grief. “Of course not. You began upsetting me twenty years ago.”

Aegon smiled drunkenly. “Sister-”

“You are no brother of mine, Aegon. So do not start acting it because of this little spat.” She pushed her chair out, making an announcement. “We will be leaving at first light. This has been, by far, the worst encounter I have ever had with King’s Landing.”

Gwayne raced after his wife, not even bothering to say goodbye to his family. “Y/N-”

“I cannot believe you.”

“What?”

“You just sat there, Gwayne.” She seethed, practically running down the halls. “Our son is dead, and you sat there and let your sister act as if it was a minor loss. An accident.”

“My love-”

“Don’t!” She snapped. “I am taking Visenya, and we are going to Dragonstone.” She stopped outside their chambers, whispering so that their guards would not hear. “I do not care where you go, but I do not wish to ever see your face again.”

He sighed, walking into their room after her. “Y/N-”

“Gwayne, that is the end of our discussion-”

“No it is not!” He yelled. “I am grieving as well. You do not get to pretend I am not.”

“Then show it!” She yelled back. “You have been silent for days. You do not defend me at dinner, you do not defend me at all. You sit there like you are dead yourself.” She scoffed. “You might as well be.”

Gwayne was practically glowering. “Do not say things you do not mean, wife.”

“I will say-”

“Mummy?” The couple looked down, realizing they had just fought loudly in front of their daughter. Y/N crouched down, opening her arms.

“Come here, my love.”

Visenya faltered, and Gwayne watched as Y/N cracked, standing up. She barely spared a glance at Gwayne. “I will be sleeping in my own chambers tonight.”

He shook his head. “No.”

She scoffed. “I didn’t realize you controlled me, my lord.”

He widened his eyes, gesturing down to their daughter who was watching with wide watery eyes. “Y/N, do me this one kindness.”

“Gwayne, I need to be alone.” She stepped back, walking towards her secret exit when his hand wrapped gently around her wrist, pulling her back. His breath hit her neck as he whispered. “Sleep in our bed. I will stand watch, and we will leave at first light for Dragonstone.” She turned around, her eyes wide. He looked determined, and in that moment, Y/N understood that he would do anything to keep them together. Her heart skipped as he bore his soul to hers, his voice heavy. “I will not have my family thrown into chaos and ruin.”

Her eyes were teary as she whispered. “Thank you.”

He nodded. “Go to bed.” He turned back to their daughter, carrying her over to her makeshift bed. Visenya’s sweet voice could be heard whispering to her father. “Did I upset Mummy?”

“No my dear.” He kissed her head gently. “Your mother is hurting, as am I. Never forget that we love you dearly.” He tucked her back into bed. “Sleep tight, little one.”

It had been surprisingly easy to escape the Red Keep. Y/N gathered it was because they did not think anyone would want to leave, which made her laugh. Who would want to be held captive in such a place?

Gwayne never understood how Targaryen’s flew dragons like it was as simple as riding a horse. Being this high up horrified him, but his wife and daughter enjoyed it immensely. Visenya giggled as she reached out, grabbing a cloud with her bare hands. “Father, open your eyes!”

Y/N laughed. “Your father is frightened, dear.”

Gwayne scoffed. “I am not. I’m simply-”

“Scared!” Visenya laughed. “I thought knights were supposed to be brave, Father.”

Gwayne gasped, clutching his heart as he forced his eyes open. “Are you calling me a coward, young lady?”

Y/N smiled, forgetting for a moment that their family had been torn apart only four days ago. “Hang on.”

“Hang on?” Gwayne questioned. “Why-”

Silverwing dove, and Gwayne felt the air leave his lungs, clutching onto his wife’s waist. “Seven Hells!”

Y/N laughed, her hair flying in the wind. “Enjoy it, my love!” The great dragon landed roughly on the same hill she had visited days before. Helping down Visenya, she smirked as her husband clambered off of her dragon’s back. “Careful, Gwayne.”

“I am-” His leg caught on the saddle, and he fell backwards, causing his two silver haired beauties to burst into tears. “Do not laugh.”

“It is quite difficult.” Y/N’s violet eyes glittered in the sun. “Come down, we have much to do.”

Y/N held Visenya close to her as they approached her sister and her family. Gwayne trailed behind the two, looking around the room skeptically. Rhaenyra sat tall on her throne. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, sister?”

Y/N bowed deeply. “Your Grace, we come to swear allegiance to you, and ask that you allow us to stay with you on Dragonstone.”

Daemon laughed. “And why would we-”

With one look, Rhaneyra shut Daemon. “That is not necessary, Y/N.” She stood up, embracing her sister tightly. The elder sister looked down, waving at the young girl. “Hello, little one.”

Visenya smiled shyly, clinging to her mother’s form. Y/N laughed, whispering. “Visenya, this is your Aunt Rhaenyra. Say hello.”

Rhaenyra laughed. “Hello, Visenya. You are the spitting image of your mother.”

The young girl blushed, smiling. “Thank you.”

“Mother, what is the meaning of-” A tall, dark-haired young man sauntered in. “Y/N!” He rushed over, hugging her tightly. “How-”

“I was most tired of the 'hospitality' of King’s Landing.” She smirked. “If one could call it that." She stepped back, taking in her grown nephew. "My, you have grown. Last I saw you, you were half your height.”

He scoffed, glaring playfully. “Yes, well…”

Rhaenyra clapped her hands. “Let us show you to your rooms.” She put her arm through her sisters. “You must be exhausted.”

“One moment.” Daemon’s voice rang through the throne room. “What about her traitorous husband?”

“Daemon-”

Y/N glared. “What did I tell you would happen if you said that again?”

Daemon laughed. “I would like to see you-”

Gwayne's auburn hair blocked her view of her uncle, standing in between the two. Y/N smiled. Standing in between two angry Targaryens was a recipe for death, and yet there her husband stood, stoic as ever.

“Please.” He turned to the King Consort. “I know that my family has done nothing but hurt yours…” He spared a look to his wife. “But you must understand that my love for your niece has overcome any loyalty I once had to my family.”

“How can we be sure you will not betray-”

Gwayne hissed. “They are the reason my son is dead. I will never forgive them.”

Daemon nodded. “Very well.”

Gwayne nodded back, turning to his wife. “Let us go rest my love.” He kissed her temple, following after the queen. “I believe we have earned it.”

taglist: @beebeechaos

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hysteria-things · 2 months ago

Note

(say the reader is famous also, but not an influencer—maybe like a well known model) hear me out, being close friends with madi and you guys end up moving in together and getting your first apartment

and you come home later than usual one night after ‘hanging out’ with matt and madi knows something is up just by the way you’re walking all slow and stuff and you eventually tell her that you had sex with matt for the first time and she’s just like “omgggggg????? tell me EVERYTHING!” and despite not being able to laugh too hard or else you’ll feel like your pussy is going to rip open LOL you two are just sitting on the couch giggle and talking about the whole thing

PERFECT

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: soft dom!matt x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: although you’re a well-known model, you’ve been feeling insecure about your body lately. matt thinks it’s bogus, and wants to prove you wrong.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, insecurity, praising, oral (female receiving), pet names, p in v

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2,075

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i kind of hate this😔

before you and matthew sturniolo started seeing each other, he would always lurk on your instagram page. the two of you met through madi, who is your best friend. you guys met at an event a few years ago and clicked instantly. fast forward to today’s time, where you now share an apartment.

you noticed matt being subtle on your page at the beginning of whatever you guys have going on. no, it’s not friends with benefits, being that you guys haven’t had sex yet. he would leave comments such as fire emojis or hypes until he was brave enough to text you a few months ago. that’s how your relationship came to be. nobody knows about it, not even madi or his brothers. you guys made the mutual decision to keep it on the down low for now.

walking through the boy’s bedroom door, you go over to the side of the bed that you sleep on, gathering some of your belongings. you just got back from a photoshoot. being a model has its ups and downs, especially when you’re on the chubbier side. you get a lot of praise from your fans, saying how you’re an inspiration. sometimes, however, it can be frustrating.

“i don’t get a kiss or even a hug?” matt says, who looks away from his phone to stare at you putting your stuff in the overnight bag you always bring.

you look over your shoulder and smile. “sorry.”

as you’re placing the bag down, he’s already sat up and sitting at the end of the bed. you go to kiss him on the temple, but instead, he pulls you over his lap to where you straddle him — although you hover a bit.

he pouts. “you’re not staying the night again?”

shaking your head, you brush a piece of hair away from his face. “i told madi i’ll be home tonight. i feel bad whenever i leave her alone, and i can’t keep up with the ‘my mom needs me to sleepover’ excuse.”

a sigh comes out as more of a groan, his lips traveling to your jaw, pecking down your neck and nipping at the skin. “you can’t put marks, matt.” you say in a whine as he reaches your sweet spot. you take a look at the clock on the nightstand, reading 9:14 pm. “it’s getting late and i have to go. i mean it.”

you get out of his grasp, another sigh leaving his body more dramatically.

matt furrows his eyebrows; something’s not right. he can sense something is bothering you, he just can’t put his finger on it. “what’s wrong?”

laughing nervously, you shake your head. “i’ll get over it.”

“that’s not what i asked— hey.” when you ignore him, he grabs your wrist to turn you around. “look at me, please. tell me what’s bothering you.”

you hate how matt’s so good at this game. he can tell when you’re upset, even in the slightest way possible. you can sugarcoat your true feelings with fake happiness, and he’ll still notice that something isn’t right.

on occasion, you like to look at comments under the recent posts that you make. most of the comments are positive, but one of the downsides of the modeling community is the negative ones. you try your best to ignore them, but sometimes they hurt. this is one of those times.

“i don’t like my body.” you barely whisper, fidgeting with his necklace as you think back to the haters.

“what?” he asks confused.

“forget about it.” you start, tugging at your hoodie sleeves. “seriously, i’ll get over it. it’s stupid people saying shit online. it happens to everybody. it’s fine.”

you do love your job, don’t get yourself wrong, but showing off your body in lingerie as a career can attract the wrong people. in general, it’s quite nerve-wracking. he kisses your cheek before his breath is against your ear. “you’re fucking gorgeous.” he bites the lobe. “let me show you, hm?”

his fingertips brush from your thighs to the hem of your shirt. “can i?” a pulsing sensation starts between your legs, taking your bottom lip with your teeth and nodding.

your shirt ends up on the floor, matt reaching behind your back to unclip your bra that ends up where your other piece of clothing is. he stares, a wide grin plastering his face. “shit.” he says lowly, squeezing your breasts before running his hands down to the buttons of your shorts. the pulsing remains, becoming much stronger.

heart thumping, you don’t make a peep as your shorts and underwear drop to the ground. you’re refusing to look down at your body, but that’s all matt is admiring. a chill runs up your spine as his lips kiss your flesh like before, but it’s more heated while you’re naked and he’s still fully clothed.

they trail to your tits, matt kneeling to reach your stomach and kissing your stretch marks, too. “so pretty.” he mumbles, ending at your thighs and repeating these actions until you’re face to face again.

going over to the bed, he lays back flat and gestures for you to come over as well. you hesitate but do so. he maneuvers your body to hover over him, or in this case, over his face. “i don’t want to hurt you.” you whine, knowing what he wants you to do.

the eye roll is so intense that it’s like you said the most out-of-pocket thing he’s ever heard in his life. “you’re soaked.” he exhales. “all of this for me?”

pink creeps on your cheeks and you nod like how you did before. being so turned on makes it almost impossible to speak. squeezing your plush thighs to keep you in place, he lowers you onto his mouth.

a gasp falls past your lips, his tongue flicking at your folds. you want to get pressure off of him at least a little bit, but he has you fully sat on his face, and he fucking loves it. soft moans along with the slurping noise fill the room, matt’s head shaking at times to feel all of you on his tongue. your pussy tastes incredible to him.

sucking at your clit, his tongue enters your sopping hole. you throw your head back, chest heaving when your moans turn into whimpers. he has you stable in his grip, pure bliss fogging your brain. “oh my god!” you cry out, slamming your eyes shut and grabbing onto his hair.

matt hums, the vibration making your legs close around his head. a hotness forms in your tummy, orgasm building the more his muscle laps in your cunt. “mm— i’m gonna cum.” you gasp, his mouth returning to your clit and sucking at your bud. you swear out loud, legs shaking while you make a mess on his face. you feel his tongue lick the excess cum from your thighs, flinching every time he does so.

in the blink of an eye, he uses his strength to flip you onto your back. your breath hitches as he runs his bottom lip up your body, the clinking of his belt entering your ears until his pants fall join the clothing pile. leaning up to take his shirt off, a grin plasters over his face, admiring your body in every way possible. you lift your head to look down at his rock-hard cock, mouth watering at the sight.

he wraps his hand gently around your throat to push your head back onto the mattress. “you want this dick?” he coos, teasing the tip at your entrance to coat it with your juices. you whine lowly, rutting your hips to get more friction. “hm?”

“y-yes.” you stammer, letting out a choked moan as matt starts pushing himself slowly into your hole. the stretch feels mesmerizing, your eyes fluttering closed when he rolls his hips.

“this pussy has been waiting for this.” he says, humming with contentment when your walls wrap around him. “you look so sexy underneath me.”

“f-faster, please.” you choke out, gripping onto the sheets by your sides.

the movement of his hips plow into you more, your ass slapping against his thighs and an erotic sound comes from where you two are conjoined. numerous curses and whimpers escape your body. his balls slap repeatedly against your clit, the feeling making you gasp and your legs shake. “fuck, matt! yeah!”

“i bet those haters are just jealous they can’t have this beautiful body to themselves.” he starts, pausing to catch his breath. “they can’t fuck it like i can.”

“y-you can’t say that.” you whimper, until the two fingers without rings pacify you. you gag a little around them before you start to suck on them, drool dribbling down your chin. the bed starts to squeak when you wrap your legs around his waist to have him go deeper, your moans muffled by his fingers when he hits your g-spot, back arching from the bed.

“there she is.” he whispers, smiling proudly. “that’s it. you want to cum, baby?”

you clench around his shaft, legs shaking more than they were before. you nod eagerly, the knot tightening in your belly. matt groans, watching your hands go to your breasts to tease and pinch the nipples for more stimulation. you can’t make it out, but you could’ve sworn he mumbles so hot under his breath when his dick twitches inside of you. your eyes roll back, mouth opening wide to scream of pleasure.

body trembling, the knot becomes undone when your cum smears down his red dick, the sight having matt pull out with a whimper. he strokes himself a few times before painting your stomach white.

he collapses on top of you, pecking your lips and whispering sweet nothings into your ear. you get a glimpse of the clock and sigh. 10:32 pm. talk about getting home early.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ❦ ⋆⁺₊⋆

you finally get to your apartment complex forty-five minutes or so later. you live on the third floor and usually take the stairs, but you’re so soar that you wobble yourself into the elevator. you walk as fast as your legs can take you down the hallway to your front door, keys jingling once you tap the key fab to open it. a beep noise echos, meaning you succeeded.

once you turn the handle, you're greeted with the TV lighting up the living room and madi’s head snapping in your direction where she’s sitting on the couch. “it’s about time! did you not see my texts or calls? you had me worried. you’re never this late after a shoot.”

“i’m sorry.” you exhale. “i had to make a pit stop.”

her eyes slit, watching the way you’re semi-limping to the seat next to her. you grunt when you manage to sit, looking over to see her mouth agape but smiling. “what?”

“you had sex.”

“you don’t know that.” you scoff, but hide your face as much as possible when you blush, reminiscing about tonight.

“girl.” she gives you the are-you-serious stare. “you’re practically shining with the post-orgasm glow, and you came walking in here like an old lady. who was it with? do i know them? tell me, tell me, tell me!”

madi grabs onto your arms and shakes them in excitement, bouncing on her knees on the cushion. “mattandihavebeenseeingeachotherbehindeverbody’sbacks.”

her nose scrunches. “huh?”

you exhale sharply, checking your phone that’s on your lap to see some messages from the boy that had you screaming on his cock over an hour ago. “matt and i have been seeing each other behind everybody’s backs.”

she claps her hands once, awfully loud, before pointing at you. “i fucking knew it. tell me everything. pretty please.”

so you do. you explain everything — well, you leave out the explicit details — and she’s beaming the whole time as you speak. your phone goes off again, and she grabs it before you can. “madi, come on!” you screech between giggles. she reads the messages with wide eyes, and you peek over her shoulder to see.

matt :)

babe

you left your bra here

should i try it on?

i’ll look good in it

hello :(

did you fall asleep already?

i think we should make it official

be my girlfriend please

i’ll see you tomorrow

i love you

whoops never said that before

oh well!

goodnight <3

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @moncherriis @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @raysmayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @tworosesblackthorn @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hearrtsturns @stars4matt @freshsturns @etershine @tpvmz @sukiipjs @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @ivyyyyyysposts @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @thesturniolos @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @bernardsbendystraws @hoes4matthew

#✎ ⤾ haleigh’s requests!#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut

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larcenywrites · 3 months ago

Note

Headcanons for collaring Logan and calling him "my little animal", please? 😏

I’ll tell you what, that “my little animal” line had me all kinds of fucked up in that theatre 😩 A bit of a preface for the fic 😏 So these are definitely more about what the collar does to him 😏 and I feel like they kinda just turned into sex hcs here and there? Though, I suppose I could supplement with another list of more generalized sex HCs in the future if it’s popular 😘 freaky but tbh the fic is gonna be freakier

Collaring/Sex Headcanons

Logan Howlett x F!Reader

🍺 His go-to collar is definitely something more rugged and simple. Something flexible, something that fits loosely— as you can imagine, he’s not at all a fan of the stiffer and tight-fitting collars :( he’s been collared before, after all, in a not-so-pleasurable way :(

🍺 But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t still like for his collar to be pulled on 😏

🍺 But to clarify, this isn’t really any sort of submissive play. Sure, there are subby elements involved, especially at first, but overall, think of this as more like a safe play, or maybe even an exercise.

🍺 Collaring him like an animal means it’s, well, time to be an animal. That it’s okay to be what he is 🤎 He spends a lot of time working to suppress and regulate the rage and urges and instincts, but sometimes doing so frustrates him more :(

🍺 And depending on the situation, he’s probably tried very hard to keep himself in check when he’s with you, more specifically.

🍺 But you love him for who he is! For what he is! So it doesn’t make it any better when he’s frustrated and pent-up for suppressing what he is 😔 and it only gets worse with age.

🍺 So on days like this, when he comes in all tense and moody (believe it or not, there’s a difference between I’m just pissed at Scott and I wanna rip bricks out of this wall with my teeth but that’s not socially acceptable), all it really takes is a downward tug of his hair to get him head down and on his knees 😘

🍺 He wants it too! He knows exactly where this is going! Again, think of it like an exercise. And where, for once, he can feel more safe and comfortable about it in a controlled environment 🥺

🍺 Buckle it around his neck and you won’t need to do much else for a few minutes— just keep a hand around that collar, pet his hair, and just let him growl it out 😮‍💨 eventually, he’ll lean forward and nuzzle against you.

🍺 He’s still being sweet for now, but don’t forget he’s still…

🍺 “There’s my little animal,” you coo now that he’s in the right space, tugging the collar to make him face up at you.

🍺 You don’t know if his mouth is open in a snarl or a moan, but your fingers are too busy tracing over his lips and teeth anyway 😏 And he’s too busy licking at your thumb pressing on the point of his fang and kissing your palm to care either.

🍺 Past this point, your little wild animal can be a little unpredictable!! But hey, doesn’t that just make it more exciting?

🍺 Logan is strong. Strong doesn’t even begin to cover it! He won’t crush you or anything, but as far as he knows, he has permission to be heavy-handed when it comes to gripping onto you! And making sure you can’t run from him 🥴 So don’t act shocked when you have bruises the next day!

________________________________________

🍺 (TW: BLOOD) and don’t act shocked when those fangs and maybe even claws draw a few pinpricks of blood. He’ll be eagerly licking over those wounds 🥴

________________________________________

🍺 He’s definitely bitey too. He gets excited licking your skin, okay?? He just has to nip and nibble and bite before licking over the pressure marks from his fangs 🥴🥴🥴

🍺 Will eventually start biting his way up your body… and licking overly wet stripes up your chest

🍺 With how hard he’s gripping your thighs while doing this, you’ll probably try to hold his hand or caress it… It’ll feel weird af, but you will be able to feel the way his claws excitedly flex beneath his skin. But be careful! They might poke out juuust a little bit 😉🤏

🍺 Will eventually eat you out while kneeling🧎🏻‍♂️and no matter how hard you tug on that collar, even if you’re choking him, he won’t stop until he’s satisfied 😏 definitely growling while doing it… also growling very possessively and biting your inner thigh when you try to pull him away 🥴

🍺 This mf would drag you up the bed by the neck if he could 😩 but he’ll settle for biting your neck and lifting you up to carry you to the top of the bed 😌

🍺 Sometimes he’ll get overstimulated and sink his fangs into the edge of the mattress or a pillow 😳 and you’ll definitely know when he’s about to do it because he’ll pull away and nearly look like he’s snarling in pain 🥵 and sometimes he looks like he’s about to sneeze 🤭

🍺 But at least he didn’t sink his fangs into you, right…? 😳

🍺 Drag him down by the collar for a kiss during sex, and he’ll meet you with fangs and tongue instead 😘

🍺 In fact, just tug the collar down anywhere while he’s fucking you. Your knuckles tense against his neck with your fist around the collar, holding him face down against the sheets… it will only make him rut into you harder with a low growl 😈

🍺 Holding him against your chest works too 😏 gives him something to mouth on 😘

🍺 He’s definitely cumming inside you, sorry 🥰 You are not gonna get this man off you while he’s like this 🫠

🍺 He’s definitely leaving claw holes in the sheets and mattress 😉 probably right next to the last batch…

🍺 Sometimes he does this normally, but with the collar on, he’s definitely running on mindless instinct while rubbing his face all over you 🥺🥰 as if you didn’t already smell like everything from his cologne to his saliva by now 😒

🍺 All you can really do is pet him while he does this 🥰 especially because he’s still inside you and not moving anytime soon!

🍺 Obviously enjoys it, obviously feels a little better, but he’s still not exactly… proud of it? He has a lot of self-hate to work through on a daily basis, so it’s not your fault. He wants to do it! He likes it! He knows that you like it! You still love him for it! But…

🍺 Well, he can’t really worry about that right now when you’re lovingly biting his nose and distracting him with love and affection 😌

#wolverine #wolverine x reader #wolverine smut #wolverine x reader smut #wolverine headcanons #wolverine imagines #wolverine fic #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett headcanons #logan howlett smut #logan howlett x reader smut #logan howlett imagines #x men #x men x reader #x men headcannons #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel headcanons

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nymphomatique · 27 days ago

Text

special affair

dbf!miguel o’hara x fem!reader

art credit: _insomniac_red_ on ig. pictures are for mood setting, reader has no specific race or physical descriptions.

cw: a lil angsty, this is just shameless smut im sorry guys i don’t know what came over me, daddy kink, dbf!miguel <3, unspecified age gap but reader is legal, rough sex, squirting, unprotected sex, miguel is not a good man, conflicted reader, creampie, lowkey breeding kink, degrading language, choking/breath play, face slapping, spitting, mentions of oral (m), overstimulation, crying/dacryphillia, pubic hair grinding? lmao idk, reader is alluded to being in sub space. not proofread lol. 18+ only.

wc: ~1.5k

❤︎ an: hi my loves!! this is a sorta part two to this drabble, but can be read as a stand alone one shot. tbh i wrote this w my pussy.. i’m ovulating rn i’m so ashamed of myself 😔 nevertheless, enjoy! if you guys want more don’t hesitate to lmk!!

from that first night he fucked you from behind, you knew you strayed too far from the status quo in your life, you’re at the point of no return. that night, when he finished pounding you from behind and defiling you further with his seed all over your back and ass, you had laid in that position— spent and on your stomach- for the rest of the night, silently sobbing. you had betrayed your father, that much you were aware of the day you started rubbing at yourself meekly in the dead of the night thinking about his best friend.

you had long come to terms with that guilt, accepting whatever image of a burning inferno there is in the afterlife. what you cannot come to terms with, is the fact that he- miguel- had actually fucked you, indulged in what you considered your own taboo thoughts, ripping them from page and making your crude thoughts a sick reality. the worst part of this all is that amidst it all, the mental beratement, the nights you spent crying, the sick feeling the memories of miguel’s cock stretching you absolutely thin, showing you a climax like no other— you want to hate yourself for it, for being weak. for being such a bad girl. but you didn’t know why your body decided to betray your brain, the physical craving for the older man’s body possessing you whole. you can’t bear this feeling, holding it up inside you and trying to keep it at bay. fuck- you needed to talk to someone, you had to, even if it’s the last person you want to speak to.

nevertheless, you end up two houses down, sniffling and heaving in the dead of the night, knocking the door as hard as your trembling hands would let you. the door swings open and at the sight of him you keen, your body aching at the sight of the burly muscles covered in sun kissed skin. dark brown hair streaked with grey at the temples. a slight five o’clock shadow, he must not have shaved this morning. and then you look into those eyes, swallowing you up whole and you begin to tear up again. miguel is silent, leaning against the door with messy hair, glazed eyes and clad in boxers, and boxers only. fuck, you shouldn’t have come here.

“I-.. Miguel, it hurts,” you sob quietly, aflame with shame and embarrassment at how little resolve you had. He grabs your face with his warm hands and you’re trembling now, ready for him. your lips ghost for a moment before he breathes out. “i’m not a good man, sweetheart. if you don’t say no, i’m gonna break you.” he sounds sincere with his words and his eyes go stern. you wish you had some self of self control, or maybe having better discernment. but the only thing you say to him only confirms what you already knew about yourself; you’re a terrible fucking person.

“violate me.”

your lips are smashed against each other, tongues dancing and it feels so good to be in his embrace again. your tears fall down your cheeks, meeting at the junction of your mouths in a pool of saliva. miguel groans and you know why, remembering what he had said to you the last time.

“i like when you cry.”

you’re grabbed up at the hips, legs wrapped around a thick torso, pressed up against a firm chest and a heavy cock. the moments up to the bedroom are cloudy, drunk off his lips against yours. you come to slightly when cold plush sheets hit your back and a pair of lips leave yours. you whine, yearning for his touch again. he looks down at you, bringing your right foot to his mouth, he licks lightly up the sole- kissing the ball of your foot before he leans down, caging your between his elbows, face to face.

“you gonna be good for your daddy?” he asks softly, kissing between the bridge of your nose once.

“y-yes,” you breathe out with a slow nod.

“mmm. gonna let me violate this tight little body too?” he asks, still soft in tone and you think you’re gonna go crazy by the end of the night. “yes, daddy,” you murmur, lost in his eyes.

“sick fucking little girl. but that’s how i like it,” he chuckles, kissing you softly before getting up stripping you bare.

“letting your daddy undress you like a good girl. so obedient f’me,” he coos at you, touching you softly and you’re almost in tears. you need him. and you let it be known. a lone tear falls down your cheek and you mewl, “n-need you to make it better down there, daddy.”

his large hand engulfs you cheek, thumb wiping your tear softly before squishing your face, putting his tear stained thumb in your mouth. “you think you’re a big girl now, hmm? telling your daddy what to do?” you look up at him teary eyed, suckling his thick finger.

“you take what i give you, when i give it to you.” he squeezes you cheek a little harder before softly slapping your cheek and you squeak at the contact. a rough laugh leaves miguel’s mouth at your reaction. “you have no idea how bad i’m gonna treat you, baby.”

you’re non verbal at this point, mouth agape and leaking saliva down your jaw seeping into the sheets and the junction of your neck and chest. a hand slaps your cheek again, you’ve lost how many that is now. “i fucked you stupid already?” miguel laughs, hard thrusts sending you flying up the bed. his hands on your hips bring you down back to him each time, poking you right in that sweet spot in your pussy. you’ve lost count of how many orgasms you’ve head, body wracked and numb with pleasure. throat hoarse from the near-violent throat fuck he gave you.

a glob of spit hits your forehead and you groan a bit. the one thing you’re sure of is that you look a goddamned mess. a crude picture of the activity you’ve been partaking in for the past two hours. a hand leaves your hip to wrap around your neck and squeeze roughly, making you gasp for air, your body finally moving.

“there we go, got you moving now. thought i fucked you to sleep for a second.”

your eyes are glossy, at the lack of air and building pressure. your hand meekly wraps around his wrist as he fucks into you. you know you shouldn’t like the way he toys with you like this, waking the line of torment and pleasure with no care in the world. but you do. and you can’t deny it anymore.

“you’re tightening up on me again. you gonna cum for me again?” miguel asks you, and he laughs after knowing you can’t even answer him. “sick little girl. you like it when i choke you? make you feel weak? worthless?”

it’s barely audible, but the moan you let out vibrates in your neck and miguel can feel it with the hand pressed against your throat. he throws his head back with a groan. “nasty, naughty girl. fuck baby, gonna cum in that little pussy.”

you’re almost there, and quite frankly impressed that you haven’t fully passed out yet. your head feels light, and you begin to tremble violently, gushing out spurts of liquid as your head falls to the side. if this is hell, you’re not so sure you could give this up for heaven. your eyes close and you feel so close to falling asleep when he removes his hand from your neck, grabbing your head by the nape of your neck, craning you up to where you can see his thick cock slip and slide between your thighs. you groan at the image.

“need you awake to see me cum in you, don’t i?” miguel groans. “you like watching me fuck you, like letting me dirty you.”

his tuft of black pubic hair rubs against yours as his thrusts become increasingly sporadic and intense, and it has you trembling at the stimulation it gives your clit. you weakly squirt each time his pelvis brushes against your clit, your body letting you know you have only so much left in you before you’re drained empty.

“fuck, love it when you wet the bed. my pissy little girl. daddy loves the messes you make.” he’s nearly breathless and you pray he’s going to cum in the next minute, the ache in your neck and dull sensation in your pussy building slowly.

“c-cum in me. wanna give you a baby,” you moan, looking up from the fast thrusts and into miguel’s eyes.

“fuck! so n-naughty, baby. gonna give me another one, huh? fucking take it, then.” with a final thrust, you feel the warmth of his cum shoot and blossom somewhere deep within you. you moan weakly, one final weak spurt of squirt coming out of you. miguel pulls out and you watch him look at the mess he made of you and your pussy, covered in spit, cum and the beginnings of handprint bruises blossoming on your hips and ass from how hard he gripped and spanked you.

you can feel his cum slowly trickle out of you, and your body feels like it’s no longer your own. after so many orgasms, your limbs are on fire, and you can do nothing but breathe and weakly murmur a “d-daddy..” while your eyes close.

tags: @realhotgirlshitah @obsessed-with-miguels-ass @maxiethestrange

message me to be removed!

#miguel o’hara drabble #miguel o’hara smut #dbf!miguel #dbf!miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel atsv smut #atsv miguel smut #miguel atsv #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #feature films💌

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d0llcuries · 21 days ago

Note

HIIII 🫶 i wanted to ask if i could request a neteyam x omatikaya readerrr where she’s caring for him while he’s healing from the bullet so it’s like just a bit after the war (bc in my head he didn’t die 😔😔😔) and she’s checking up on him making sure he’s okay distracting him from pain/the situation hopefully that makes some sense just some cute stuff like that hehe. (im delusional 💓)

THANKS BABE

KISS YOU BETTER

pairing(s): neteyam x fem!na'vi reader

summary: healing is a process. a slow, lonely and frightful one. you do what you can to be there for him, forever thankful to eywa that he still has breath in his lungs.

author's note: i am the world's fattest dillydallyer, i fear. bear with me folks please and thankss!!

neteyam’s chest rises and falls in shallow breaths, his skin too warm under your palm where his heartbeat drums, faint, beneath layers of gauze and healing paste. the evening light, watery and red through the fibers of the marui pod, filters down over him, casting a glow that makes his blue skin look brighter.

a faint lustre of sweat lies at his temples. you can’t tell if it is the heat or the strain of healing that makes him look fragile, but it is unsettling. it feels like months have passed since that day. the bullet. the blood. the scream that ripped from your throat like you could tear the world in half with it.

he's been in and out of it for days. sometimes, he wakes with a shudder, his fingers twitching as if he’s reaching for his knife or his bow or something to hold onto before his muscles relax and he lays dormant once again. you wonder, not for the first time, what he dreams of now. if he’s still out there, somewhere between life and death, between the stars and the ground, or if he’s here, with you, feeling the soft pressure of your fingers on his skin, the warmth of your breath on his neck. you wonder if he feels the way your hands shake, if he knows how scared you are, even though you don’t say it.

“yawne,” he murmurs, voice raspy, cracking around the edges. it’s the only word he seems to have the strength for lately. my love. you could hear it a thousand times, and still, it would twist your insides in knots, the feeling churning beneath your ribs like roots digging into soil that’s too dry to give way. he says it like it is his only bind to the world.

the air inside the tent is sticky, thick, a little too sweet with the musk of old herbs and the iron tang of blood. you can taste it on your tongue as you breathe, cloying, like when you bite too hard into a mango and the juice drips down your chin, half-spoiled, but still too good to stop. the world is settling outside the night drawing in like a slow breath and inside, the hush of it, the weight of it, sinks into your skin, pools behind your eyes, heavy and aching.

his lashes cast long shadows across his cheeks, his lips chapped and parted as he pulls in uneven breaths. you move carefully, your hands trembling just a little as they skim over his ribs, up to his face, cradling his jaw in your palms. he feels fragile. your body aches in ways you can’t describe, the knots in your muscles from sleeping beside him, always curled up in awkward positions, always watchful. your knees are sore from kneeling too long, your neck stiff from leaning against the wooden posts of the tent. but all that discomfort it feels so small, so inconsequential, in the face of his suffering.

you stroke his hair back, letting the braids slip through your fingers one by one. the roots are damp, curls matted against his scalp. you hum a little under your breath, some half-forgotten melody your mother used to sing when you were small, when the days felt longer and the nights less lonely. the sound barely reaches your ears, swallowed by the thick air, but neteyam stirs, just a fraction, his lips twitching like he's trying to smile, trying to remember how.

dried blood like rust staining the fresh bandages you’ve wrapped around him. your hands know the routine now. the careful unraveling of cloth, the soft hiss of his breath when the cool air touches the wound, the gentle pat of the herbs pressed to his skin. you move like you’re in a trance, like this is a dream, and maybe it is. maybe none of this is real.

you press another kiss to his lips this time, barely more than a whisper of touch, but it feels like a promise. i’m here. i’m staying.

you trace the lines of his collarbone, the curve of his jaw, your touch light, as if you’re afraid he’ll shatter under your hands. you won’t leave me, you think, pressing your lips to the hollow of his throat, you can’t.

you kiss him again, soft, featherlight kisses that brush his skin like a promise, like a prayer. and with each one, you hope—this one will heal him. this one will be enough. but hope is like the wind, you think. it slips through your fingers no matter how tightly you hold on.

so you lie there, listening to the sound of his breathing, the faint rustle of the tent, the hum of the forest, and you wonder how many more kisses it will take before he’s whole again.

his presence is a tether, thin as it may be, binding you here. holding you together, even though the world outside feels as though it has unraveled completely. you sit beside him, legs curled under you, skin tingling with exhaustion. your bones feel like they might fold in on themselves, but none of that matters. wake up.

a sound escapes him. his lips move—just the faintest twitch, but it is something. he is here.

“neteyam,” you whisper. saying his name and it aches to let it out.

his lips part, a dry rasp of breath slipping through, and you reach for the gourd beside you, lifting it to his mouth. the water pools in the curve of his lips, slow and steady.

“drink,” you murmur, your voice catching on the word.

he drinks, the water moving down his throat in quiet gulps, each one easing the tightness there, smoothing the lines of strain from his face. you watch the way his throat moves, the tension softening just a little. when he is done, you lower the gourd, your thumb brushing against his lips, catching the drops that linger there.

your breath catches in your throat as neteyam’s eyes flutter open, the softest sliver of gold peeking through the lashes you have been watching so closely, day after day. your heart leaps before you can even stop it, a wild, untamed thing in your chest, and you do not know whether to laugh, cry, or scream. your hands hover above him, trembling with the need to touch him, to pull him into you, but you stop yourself, knowing how fragile he still is. every fiber of your being is vibrating with joy, your body a live wire of emotions, but you hold yourself back, afraid of overwhelming him, of hurting him.

“nete!” you breathe, the word coming out as half-laughter, half-sob, and you are trembling with the effort it takes not to throw yourself into his arms. your fingers brush his cheek, feather-light, as if he might disappear if you press too hard. the ache in your chest is too much, too bright, and all you can do is smile down at him, wide and breathless, blinking back the tears that blur your vision. he is here, really here, and you do not know how to contain it, how to quiet the storm of happiness that surges through you. you lean down, your forehead just barely touching his, and whisper, “you are awake!” your voice shaking with the weight of all the things you cannot say, all the joy you cannot express without breaking apart.

“you should be resting,” he says, and the sound of it makes your breath catch again. you have heard this voice so many times, but now it feels new, fragile.

you let out a soft laugh, half surprise, half relief, your fingers drifting through his hair, catching the strands that have come loose from his braids. “so should you,” you whisper, feeling the way his body hums beneath your touch, the way his presence pulls you in like the tide, slow and unrelenting.

he makes a small sound, something between a sigh and a hum, and it vibrates through your bones, quiet and deep. his hand tightens on yours, just a little, but enough. enough to remind you that he is here, that you are tethered to him still.

“i missed you,” you say, the words slipping out before you can stop them, too heavy with meaning. it is not just the missing of these last few days, these long, aching hours. it is the missing of something bigger, something that stretches across time. something that you cannot name.

he hums again, and you feel it in the space between your ribs, that soft agreement. you missed him too, even though you were never really gone. his breathing slows, and for the first time in what feels like forever, there is peace on his face.

“you are going to get better,” you whisper, as if saying it out loud might make it true. as if the words might stitch him back together, might pull him from the edge of whatever dark place he has been hovering near. you press your lips to his brow, kissing the smooth skin there, untouched by the pain that has tried to claim him.

another kiss, this one softer, to the tip of his nose, then his jaw, your lips trailing down to the place where his pulse beats steadily beneath the surface of his skin. he is still here.

you press your mouth to that spot, feeling the rhythm of his life under your lips, and you think, “you know,” you murmur against his skin, “if kissing you could heal you faster, you would be running by now.”

his chest moves with a low sound, something between a chuckle and a breath, and it fills the space between you like music. it makes you smile, makes your heart stutter and swell, and you nuzzle into him, your face pressed against the warmth of his neck, your hand splayed over his chest, trying to anchor yourself in this moment.

“you are doing a good job, then,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, but it is full of something light, something playful.

your heart leaps at the sound, and you lift your head to look at him, to see the faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. his eyes are still closed, but there is life in him now, a flicker of the boy you know—the boy who makes you laugh, the one who makes you feel like the world is not such a terrible place after all.

“then i will keep doing it,” you say, pressing another kiss to his cheek, your smile wide and soft, full of too much feeling.

“do not stop,” he murmurs, and it is almost playful, almost light, and you can feel your heart swelling again, pushing against your chest like it might burst.

you press your forehead to his, your body melting into his warmth, and the world outside feels so far away now, like it cannot reach you here.

“i will not,” you promise, the words slipping from your lips like a vow, like something sacred.

the silence returns, but it is full now, heavy with the weight of everything you have not said, everything you do not need to say. his breathing steadies, slow and rhythmic, and your body sinks into his, your exhaustion finally easing, replaced by something softer. something that feels like peace.

and in this quiet, in this small, fragile moment, you feel it—the hope that has been hiding in the corners of your heart. you feel it blooming, slow and tentative, but there, growing in the space between you.

because he is still here. and you are still here. and that, somehow, is enough.

the sun was unforgiving, but you dug your fingers into the sand anyway, letting it gather beneath your nails, small grains cool against the heat that pressed down on your skin. the ocean sang before you, waves rolling softly toward the shore, brushing against your toes before retreating, almost shy in their touch. you tilted your face up toward the sky, letting the light cascade over you, trying to soak in its warmth, trying to let it chase away the heavy ache in your chest.

you didn’t know how long you’d been sitting there, but it didn’t matter. you came here often now, to this spot just beyond the village, where you could hear the water breathing, feel the sand shift beneath you, and pretend, for a moment, that everything was right. you dug your fingers in deeper, the sensation grounding you, pulling you back from the thoughts that threatened to drag you under.

neteyam was healing. slowly, carefully, but the wounds were still fresh, the memory of his blood staining your hands still too sharp. there were nights you woke with that same metallic scent in your nose, the image of him falling, so still and quiet, burned behind your eyelids. even now, as the sun beat down on you, your mind circled back to it—over and over.

you curled your fingers into fists, the sand slipping through them, leaving nothing but the feel of it sticking to your palms. you hated this. this waiting, this stillness. but you hated it more for him. neteyam wasn’t made to lie still. he was built for movement, for the hunt, for the wild freedom of the forest and sky. now, he was trapped. and in a way, so were you.

your eyes flickered toward the horizon, where the sea stretched out in endless blue. there was a celebration tonight—the metkayina’s way of welcoming a new season. you remembered the last one, how the village had come alive, vibrant and wild. you’d danced with neteyam then, under the stars, laughing as the ocean crashed around your feet. everything had felt light, easy. before.

now, the thought of going felt… wrong. how could you join in their joy when so much of yours was tethered to him, back in that marui, lying still and quiet? how could you celebrate without him by your side?

you pushed yourself up slowly, your body resisting the movement, as if it too was reluctant to leave this spot. you wiped the sand from your hands, shaking your head at your own thoughts. no neteyam, no joy. it was simple, really. without him, nothing felt complete.

the marui was bathed in soft light when you returned, the warm glow of the afternoon filtering in through the slats. it was quieter now, the village settling into the rhythm of evening. inside, neteyam lay where you left him, though his eyes fluttered open as you stepped closer. kiri and tuk were still there, but kiri shot you a small, tired smile, relief evident in the way her shoulders sagged.

“thank you,” she murmured, barely audible, as she stood, tugging tuk up gently. tuk looked up at you, her eyes bright as she offered a tiny smile, her fingers brushing your leg as she passed by. “he’s all yours.”

you nodded, giving her a grateful look before she slipped out of the marui, tuk trailing behind her, the sound of their soft footsteps disappearing into the distance. and then there was only the quiet. the kind of quiet that settled easily between you and neteyam, comfortable, familiar, as if it had always been this way.

you knelt beside him, your eyes tracing the lines of his face, studying the way the light played over his skin. his breathing was slow, steady, and for a moment, all you could do was watch the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the way his fingers twitched slightly as if he was reaching for something just out of grasp.

“they are gone?” his voice broke the silence, soft and low, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“they are gone,” you confirmed, your hand instinctively reaching for his cheek, fingers brushing over the warmth of his skin. it was a simple touch, one you found yourself craving more and more, needing the reassurance of his presence, of his life beneath your fingertips.

he leaned into your touch, his smile widening just a fraction, though it didn’t quite chase away the exhaustion that lingered in his eyes. “good.”

for a moment, you just sat there, letting the quiet stretch between you, not needing to fill it with words. you had said everything already, in the days following his injury, in the long hours spent by his side, watching over him while he healed. the words weren’t important. this was. being here. being with him.

the soft hum of the village outside broke the stillness, the faint sounds of preparation for the celebration beginning to drift into the marui. laughter echoed from somewhere far off, the rhythm of drums picking up in the distance, the promise of festivity hanging in the air. but you didn’t care for it, not tonight. not when neteyam was still here, still recovering. the idea of leaving him behind, of being anywhere without him, felt impossible.

“the festival,” he murmured suddenly, his voice pulling you from your thoughts. his eyes opened fully now, locking onto yours with a quiet intensity. “you should go.”

your brow furrowed in confusion, tilting your head slightly as you searched his face. “why?”

“because you should,” he replied, as though the answer was obvious, his gaze flickering with something you couldn’t quite name. “you have not been out… you have not done anything in forever.”

“i do not need to,” you said simply, shrugging as though the thought had never occurred to you. because it hadn’t.

he shifted slightly, discomfort flashing briefly across his face, though he hid it well. “you should nkt miss out because of me. it is not fair.”

you blinked, the frustration flaring just beneath the surface. how could he think that? how could he even suggest that any of this was his fault, or that you were missing out on anything at all? he was here. and that was enough.

“neteyam,” you began softly, your fingers brushing over the curve of his cheekbone, trying to soothe the tension you saw building there. “i have fun wherever you are. it does not matter what is happening outside.”

his frown deepened, like he didn’t quite believe you, like he was still carrying the weight of guilt for everything that had happened—for being hurt, for making you stay. but you didn’t press him further. you knew he needed time to understand. you weren’t missing anything. the world could celebrate all it wanted outside; you’d remain here, tethered to him, with him.

the rest of the day unfolded in small moments. the kind that didn’t need words to fill them. you stayed by his side, sometimes talking, other times letting the soft sounds of the village drift in from outside, the lull of the ocean a constant, gentle presence. he watched you in those quiet moments, his eyes following you as you moved around the marui, his gaze lingering as though he needed the reassurance that you were still there, still with him.

the sun was low in the sky now, casting everything in hues of gold and pink. the sounds of the festival had grown louder, laughter mingling with the rhythmic beat of drums, the clinking of shells as decorations were strung along the walkways. the energy outside was palpable, the village alive with celebration, but inside your marui, the quiet remained.

neteyam shifted again, his body protesting the movement, though he masked the discomfort as best he could. his eyes flickered toward the entrance of the marui, the faintest trace of music filtering through the air.

he turned back to you, his gaze more focused this time, more determined. “go get something to eat.”

you blinked, your brows knitting together as you stared at him. “what?”

“food,” he repeated, his tone light but insistent. “from the festival. go grab some.”

narrowing your eyes, you studied his face. he hadn’t let you out of his sight for more than a few minutes in the past days, and now he was practically urging you to leave. “what are you planning?”

“nothing,” he replied. “i am hungry. go. please?”

your lips pressed into a thin line, clearly unconvinced, but you rose to your feet anyway, giving him one last look before slipping out of the marui. the air outside was cooler now, the night settling in around you, and you could feel the pulse of the village as you made your way toward the center, where the celebration was in full swing. your mind already drifted back to neteyam, wondering what he was up to, why he was so adamant about sending you away. it wasn’t like him. not now, not when he needed you.

the food spread along the long, low tables is almost too much to look at, piles of bright fruits and roasted fish, grains and herbs twisted into fragrant shapes, everything vibrant and rich, as though the night itself has bloomed into this feast. your fingers brush over the cool surface of a carved bowl, feeling the delicate grooves, the weight of the work that went into every small detail. you carefully fill your basket, trying not to disturb too much of the display, slipping a few extra pieces of fruit between the flatbread and smoked meats, thinking of tuk’s bright eyes when she sees what you have brought back. the thought brings a smile to your lips, but it is fleeting, tempered by the pull of responsibility that sits low in your stomach. neteyam is still weak, and you know he will not eat unless you bring him something.

“you are not staying?” tsireya’s voice is soft but lilting, a note of surprise carried by the night air as she steps toward you, her hair catching in the lantern light, strands of it glowing like spun copper. her eyes are wide and kind, her arms laden with shells strung together on thin threads, swaying with the easy grace of the ocean. she leans in, “you are always leaving so quickly. you should enjoy yourself tonight.”

you smile at her, tucking the basket closer to your side. “i wish i could,” you say, and it is the truth, though it feels like a half-formed thing on your tongue, like something left out in the sun too long. even as you speak, you feel the quiet distance between you and the festival, like you are watching it all from the other side of a glass wall. tsireya’s face softens, a flicker of understanding passing through her eyes, but before she can say anything else, tuk comes bounding up, her small hands tugging at the hem of your skirt, her face lit up with excitement.

“you have to stay for the dancing!” tuk’s voice is bright, her breath coming quick from her running. she looks up at you with such earnestness that it tugs at something in your chest, the way only a child can, her wide eyes reflecting the shimmering lights around you like she is holding the stars themselves. tsireya gives you a look, one that is all gentle encouragement, a soft nudge in the direction of the night’s festivities, and for a moment, just a moment, you consider it. staying. letting the music and laughter carry you for just a little while, letting the world slip away for a few hours. but then the weight of the basket shifts in your hands again, grounding you back to reality, and you know you cannot. not tonight.

“another time,” you say, your voice softer now, tinged with a quiet apology you hope they will understand. you brush a hand over tuk's cheek, feeling the warmth of her skin. “i promise.”

you returned as quickly as you could, stepping back into the marui with the scent of roasted fish and fruit clinging to the air. but the moment you walked inside, the food forgotten in your hands, you froze.

neteyam was standing.

his body was trembling slightly, one hand gripping the wall for support, but he was standing, his eyes bright with determination, his grin wide and boyish as he watched your stunned reaction.

“neteyam,” you whispered, barely able to speak, the shock freezing you in place. “what are you doing?”

“we are dancing,” he said simply, his voice soft but firm, as though this was the most natural thing in the world. as though this wasn’t a miracle.

you shook your head, taking a hesitant step forward, torn between wanting to scold him for pushing himself too far and being so overwhelmed with love for him you thought you might burst. “you should not be standing. you—”

but before you could finish, he reached for you, his hand catching yours gently, pulling you closer. “come on. just for a while.”

the music from the festival floated through the air, the soft, distant beat of the drums like a heartbeat, slow and steady. you let him guide you, your hands finding their way to his waist, careful not to press too hard, not to disturb the bandages still wrapped around his middle.

he moved slowly, his steps tentative but deliberate, and you moved with him, letting the rhythm carry you both, swaying gently in the small space of the marui. his breath was warm against your skin, his forehead resting against yours as you danced together, the world outside falling away.

“this is all i need,” he murmured, his voice barely more than a breath. “just you.”

you pressed your face into his neck, inhaling the familiar scent of him, the warmth of his skin against yours. your heart swelled in your chest, the love you felt for him spilling over, too big to contain.

“you are all i need too,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion, your arms tightening around him.

and as the faint music played on, you stayed there, swaying together in the dim light of the marui, the world outside forgotten, everything you needed right here, in this moment, in each other.

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ph6ntomm · 23 days ago

Text

request? no!

pairings: quinn hughes x reader, jack hughes x bsf!reader

summary: jacks best friend and quinn hughes growing up together over the years blossoms into something more.

requests are open.

a/n: this is my comeback fic yep yep ignore the fact i haven’t posted anything writing related in like three months or smth🤝🤝 anyways this is based off of the song As It Was by Harry Styles, my life revolves around his music tbh😔🤝 also rip liam payne im so upset about that still🥲🥲

warnings: small age gap (1 year), light mentions of drinking

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

Holdin' me back, gravity's holdin' me back, I want you to hold out the palm of your hand, why don't we leave it at that?

when you moved into the vacant house next door at 8 years old, the last thing you expected was to make new friends almost immediately. three boys played out in the yard in the house next door, presumably playing tag, as they were chasing each other and slightly shoving.

you watched from the top step of your porch with your teddy bear clutched tightly to your chest. the tallest boy had messy black hair and looked to be about a year or so older. the second boy, who was running away from the other had light brown hair and looked full of energy. he also looked to be around the same age. the last boy had blonde curly hair and had a constant smile on his face. he looked to be a bit younger than you, but still cool.

your dad had came out onto the porch and looked over to where your eyes had been trained on for the last three minutes. he waited for a second before suggesting that you walked over and tried to talk to them. so you did.

timidly, you had walked over slowly, not wanting to seem too desperate to talk to any of them, especially the boy with the messy raven colored hair. the boy with the light brown hair stopped in his tracks when he saw you and his smile widened. “hi! i’m jack,” he said to you. you had waved at him and told him your name too. he told you his age, which was 7, and the smallest boy told you his name too, which was luke, he was 5. immediately, he asked you if you wanted to be friends. the tallest, who you had figured out was the oldest, just stared at you. you stared back. he didn’t say anything, so jack spoke for him. “that’s quinn, he’s 9 and he’s mine and luke’s older brother. he’s an old grump sometimes,” he said with a light snicker while quinn rolled his eyes.

you held out your hand for him to shake, but he didn’t take it. instead, your hand stayed rested towards the sky. you awkwardly took your hand back and dropped it to your side, slightly embarrassed at the interaction.

little did you know, quinn was beating himself up over the interaction. he felt stupid that he hadn’t taken the chance to get to know a pretty girl, or even make a new friend. he felt like he couldn’t make the move forward and shake your hand, but he didn’t know why.

“do you wanna play with us?” jack had asked, and who in their right mind would’ve said no to that?

so, for the rest of the night until you were all called in to your respective homes, you played with them.

all night you were thinking about quinn, until you fell asleep.

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

Nothin' to say, when everything gets in the way, seems you cannot be replaced, and I'm the one who will stay

a few years later, 15 to be exact, you find yourself sitting in the backyard of the hughes house. it was a particularly cold evening so they invited you and your parents over for s’mores around the campfire. the boys had invited some of their friends over too, which made it more lively.

you were sitting alone by the fire, partly to try and warm up, but the other part to get away from everyone. you were getting overwhelmed.

jack, your closest friend, was surrounded by a group of people you didn’t know as well. in turn, being around all of them at once caused you to become anxious. so that’s why you were sitting by the fire alone.

your parents and the boys parents looked like they were a bit tipsy, as they had been sipping on something all night and you didn’t really wanna be around that. luke was with jack and the big group so you couldn’t go hang out with him either. and quinn? that was out of the question. you and quinn had an odd relationship. you didn’t not like each other, but you didn’t exactly talk either. you’d only ever had very brief interactions in passing. it’s not like you didn’t want to talk to him, you just had nothing to say to him.

which is why it was a big surprise when he came over to the fire and sat beside you. you slightly tensed next to him, but he didn’t seem to notice. you had been harboring a small crush on him for about two years, and your friends had yet to find out. you feared for what could happen if the secret got out. what if jack stopped being friends with you? or even worse, what if you stopped talking to the family completely? you couldn’t let that happen, so you kept your silly crush to yourself and shook away the negative thoughts the best that you could.

it was quiet for a few beats until he spoke up. “you looked lonely over here,” he started. “i hope im not bothering your time alone, i just didn’t know what to do either,”

you stared forward for a second before looking over to him. he was already looking at you. “no, you’re good, i was feeling a bit awkward sitting over here alone anyways,” you said with a light laugh. you looked over to where jack was to find him in the same spot he’d been at for the past 15 minutes.

you looked back over to quinn to find that he had looked back towards the fire, so you did too.

“i guess we can sit over here awkwardly together then,” he said after a minute or so. “i guess so,” you replied, a light smile resting across your face.

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

In this world it's just us, you know it's not the same as it was

at 17 years old, you were about to graduate high school. quinn was 19 and was in college and was about to get drafted. he was visiting his family back at home and happened to be there at the time of your graduation, so he showed up with your family and the rest of his family too.

you had started to stay more in touch with quinn, checking up on him every few days or so, asking him how school was going and how his day went. he did the same with you too. the conversations sometimes went into something even deeper, conversations about anything and everything you could imagine.

when you walked across the stage, your family and the hughes cheered the loudest.

after the graduation, you found them and hugged your parents first. your dad hugged you first, and also the tightest, his eyes tearing up. your mom hugged you next and told you how proud of you she was. you hugged jim and ellen, then jack and luke. lastly, you hugged quinn. you saved him for last because the thought of hugging him made you nervous. your crush for the boy had never subsided. in fact it had became more than just a little crush.

your family and the rest of the hughes had walked away by now. quinn hugged you and shook you a little, which made you laugh. you took your arms off from around his neck and lightly pushed on his chest to try and move him away a little, but he didn’t budge. his eyes were trained on yours. you felt like you could crumble under his stare. “have i ever told you how pretty you are?” he asked. a light blush dusted your cheeks, before you laughed nervously. “no, i don’t think so,” you replied. he smiled, and in that moment you were sure he felt the same way you did.

he asked if he could kiss you, and of course you agreed.

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

You know it's not the same as it was, as it was, as it was

years later, you and quinn are together, and you had been ever since the day after you graduated. your families had taken the news well, especially jack. he was ecstatic to have you as part of the family, even now calling you his sister. luke of course followed suit.

you moved in with quinn after you finished college. long distance was hard, but you always had summer and sometimes quinn would even fly in just to see you for a weekend.

you were always together, and you didn’t think anything would ever change that.

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x you #vancouver canucks #nhl

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laelelinae · 4 months ago

Note

Hi!! Can you please do childhood besties to lovers hc for my man kuroo

Take care of yourself

:-🧚🏻‍♀️anon

Childhood friends to lovers . ° 。 · (kids to hs to adults)

haha this is kinda a nonsense,I was so tired while writing this (sent help)

warnings: nonsense ahahahahzhgagagagag😈😈😈 (I’m tweaking)

The first time this man met you as a kid with Kenma he instantly went (

“I’m gonna marry her someday!” HE SAID THAT SO CONFIDENTLY AND LOUDLY.

Kenma gave him a “are you serious?” Look ..ouch

Lil kuroo ignored kenma as he went up to you (he randomly picked some flower that was near him in the grass area 😔

He came up to you and was like

“Hey you! I’m gonna marry you someday”

boy, Kenma instantly acted like he didn’t know him HSHSH

Little you chuckled at this boy behavior. YOU BLUSHED😝

“Really?” You asked him and he replied “really! Is a promise!”

SOO YOU GUYS FAKE MARRIED AT THE PARK AND THATS HOW YOUR FRIENDSHIP STARTED!!

. . .

You dragged him to introduce him to your parents,he did the same!

Andddd your parents also got along with each other (they are the type to say like “yeah..I will make y/n marry kuroo!”)

You guys went to the same elementary school but you were a year younger than him,so you’re in the same year as Kenma! You guys honestly vibe together

. . .

You and Kenma was like good friends too,literally only you and kuroo understood him😭

Kuroo is honestly kinda jealous of you spending time with Kenma due to the year gap…😞

Stops by a lot to check up on you and Kenma!

Literally was ripping his hair out,realizing once he graduated 6th grade ,he would have to leave you and Kenma alone for a year 💀 (he was overreacting)

Once you got into the same middle school as him with Kenma (BOY ONCE THIS MAN JUST HIT PUBERTY..)

He got way more bold and flirty also “annoying” to Kenma😭

EVERYONE in your middle school thought Kuroo was your boyfriend 💀

Kenma sometimes nudged you about it in a lazy way since he can clearly tell you two had some sort of thing but you can’t even see it yourselves?!

He went like “oh by the way..your boyfriend told me to go find him afterschool”

You would blush so hard and smacked him (kenma doesn’t mind it tbh)

YOU WOULD HAVE SLEEPOVERS WITH THE TWO AWH

Your parents often ask you “is Kuroo coming?” “Were you out with Kuroo?” “WHEN ARE YOU GONNA DATE HIM?” (Your parents LOVES HIM)

You never got in any relationship bc you weren’t sure and you wanted to focus on your future and your work yk?

And..when high school hits..

When Kuroo was in second year,you and Kenma was in first year..

KUROO FUCKING ASKED YOU OUT

Kenma was NOT surprised at all

And of course ,you accepted it but your relationship was like yk..kinda awkward ?

After an year,when he was in his third year and you were in your second year

You two broke things off since you felt like it was too bothering for your career path yk?

He understood why,your parents did,Kenma did and yourself did

Kuroo lowkey was depressed 😭

After graduation,etc bla bla..

You became a manager for Hinata’s MSBY team

You had this job bc of Kenma helping ya since you kinda already knew Hinata in high school.

You didn’t talk to Kuroo that much anymore after graduation,he was busy with his future but you heard he became some association job in japans volleyball supply service department

Lowkey you missed him (kenma could tell👎)

And one dayyy…during one of the team meetings for MSBY Mr kuroo showed up😨

Your jaw DROPPED when you saw him (he did too,it was just inside his mind)

After that meeting,blud chased you down to talk to you

And you guys started talking again!😨

After a year or so ,you guys did got closer over the time again and his inner child came out 😭

Just once again that silly kuroo you know..

Andddd one day,he took you out on a “platonic” date

And..

“Y/n,can we try to date again?” HUHUHUHU

OFC YOU SAID YES BAHAH

This time was way better than what it was in high school,you two were wayyy happier and can manage the relationship easily.

After like errrrhh one year with Kuroo,one random night he brought to some beach and it was such a pretty view (lowkey was giving the song sweater weather,im listening to it while writing this lol)

“Y/n,remember the promise we made?”

“Which one”

“Our first ever promise.”

“The one where you said your gonna marry me?”

“Mhm”

HE GOT ON ONE KNEE AND THEN PULLS OUT A FANCY AHHH RING

YOU WERE GONNA PASS OUT LMFAOAOA

AND OFCCCCC YOU SAID YESSS <333333

. . .

Honestly you two first told Kenma and he gave you a proud ahh smile like “wow,finally.” LMFAO

When your parents knew ,they were SO happy and your mom was talking to Kuroos was like “SEE THEY ARE MARRIED NOW”

LMFAOAOA EVERYONE KNEW YOU GUYS WERE CELEBRATING HAHA

Honestly kuroo is just the greatest husband <3

You love him,he loves you too.

#kuroo headcanons #kuroo x you #kuroo fluff #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #hq kuroo #haikyuu kuroo #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo testuro #kuroo angst #hq fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu kenma #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu #hq angst #haikyuu angst #childhood

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kinokappe · 7 months ago

Text

࿙֒͜࿚࿙֒͜࿚࿙֒͜࿚࿙֒͜࿚࿙֒͜࿚࿙֒͜࿚࿙֒͜࿚࿙ ⪩⪨ ࿚࿙֒͜࿚࿙֒͜࿚࿙֒͜࿚࿙֒͜ ࿚࿙֒͜࿚࿙֒͜࿚࿙֒͜࿚

Tired

Pairing: Husband!Bi-Han x Fem!Reader

Warnings: soft Bi Han, fingering, slight cum eating, no use of y/n. He's a freak wid it 😔, needy husband.

A/n: I'm going insane, might make a part 2 though 😞⁉️

⚠️ NSFW UNDER THE CUT, MDNI⚠️

It was late at night when you heard the door open, the quiet shuffling of footsteps from the living room alerted you. Sliding off the bed, you wrapped your robe tightly around your waist as you walked to the door, on the way to open it and try and see who was downstairs.

Before you could turn the knob, the door opened and the tall, familiar figure of your husband emerged, tired and grumpy as he met your eyes. "My love.." he whispered, walking to you and snaking his hands around your waist instantly, in turn making you lace your arms around his shoulders. "I missed you..." He added, his deep voice rang in your ears, instantly soothing the noise in your mind as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply to take in your scent and the warmth of your skin.

His muscles flexed when he tightened his grip around you, his hands gentle when he rubbed your back, "hard day...?" You asked softly, letting the larger man rest some of his weight on you. He nodded, a deep exhale resonating in his chest. He stayed silent for a moment, just holding onto you like you were his lifeline, the only thing keeping him together at this point.

"I kept thinking of you.. I couldn't wait to get home" his voice was almost as soft as a whisper, barely audible throughout the room as he spoke so close to your ear. Removing his face from your neck to stand at his full height, he looked down at you, meeting your eyes and you could see the exhaustion over his features, but somehow, he still looked so handsome, your Bi Han. Removing your hands from his shoulders, you reach to stroke his cheeks, seeing him instantly lean into your touch.

He held you closer, pulling you by the waist and refusing to let go, and who were you to deny this for him? "Let's go to bed, my love... You deserve the rest" the soft words that left your lips sounded like honey to him, so sweet and comforting as he followed you to bed, crawling in beside you.

In an instant, his hands were already on you, caressing the exposed skin of your legs and grabbing at the fabric of your nightgown, already itching to rip it off of you. He nosed at your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses while his hands slowly spread your legs, "Bi-Han.. I thought you were tired..~?" Your words are low and breathy when you speak, and he loves it. He loves it even more when you run your fingers through his hair, feeling you undo his bun and causing his hair falls over his shoulders while a few strands fall over his forehead.

"I was tired.. but never too tired to leave my wife unsatisfied.. never too tired to make love to you," he whispered into your ear, his voice low and deep, sending shivers up your spine when his breath fanned over your skin.

During times like this, he would usually make you wait and beg for him, plead for him to give you what you wanted. But he couldn't wait, not now, not when his beautiful wife was splayed on the bed next to him, letting out the softest noises for him.

He slowly moved to sit behind you, manhandling you a bit to sit up and rest your back against his chest. A part of you is turned on at how easily he can move you, but given how big and strong he was, it was no problem for him. "Just relax, princess... Let me take care of you, yeah?" He whispered, his hands roaming over your stomach and chest, pawing at the fabric of your nightgown to squeeze your breasts.

A soft whine leaves your lips when he squeezes your hardened nipple, a low chuckle vibrates in his chest when he blows cool air behind your ear, making you shudder, "you're not wearing a bra, love?" He teases, lowering his head to nip at the skin of your neck, alternating between squeezing your perfect tits, to pinching and pulling at your nipples.

You shake your head, already blushing with your head thrown back to rest on his shoulder, "I was about to sleep after all.." you reply weakly, to which he only chuckles. His free hand slowly spreads your legs apart, smoothing over the skin of your thighs when the hem of your nightgown hikes up.

"You're so hot, my love.." he whispers against your neck, his hand slowly slipping under your underwear, rubbing at your poor, puffy clit. A desperate whine echoes through the quiet room and it's his sign to keep going, moving his fingers expertly on your wet pussy, "so wet already and I haven't even touched you properly" he chuckles, pinching your clit and loving it when you squirmed.

"Can't help it when you're this close.. you make me feel hot" you whisper, moving your hips to meet his fingers in an attempt to satisfy the growing heat between your legs. He groans at the sensation, adding more pressure to his fingers, "I want you, princess... Please let me fuck this pretty pussy... please, baby?" it almost sounds like he's pleading with you, plunging two fingers into your needy hole with no warning, curling into the spongy, warm walls of your wet cunt, almost making you cum on the spot.

You grip his arm, breath already taken away while you hear the wet sounds of his fingers plunging into your pussy with no mercy. "my love — a-ah~" your moans leave your lips to no end, a repeat of his name, curses and soft, little whimpers come from deep within your chest, and you bet that made his dick hard. He grunts, "I want you to cum on my hand, princes... Does it feel good?" He asks softly, but you can tell how heated he is.

He blows cool air on the shell of your ear and it has your knees buckling, your hips absentmindedly moving back and forth to aid the onslaught of his thick fingers plunging in and out of you. "feels so goo- fuuckkk~" you whine out, your grip on his arm tightening when his thumb slides over your clit, rubbing at your sensitive bundle of nerves, determined to have you shaking and squirting just by his fingers. At this point, even the elder gods would be flustered at this display of pure lust between them.

His eyes were locked on the way your pretty pussy swallowed his fingers, your back arching so deliciously against him with your knees trembling, and it gets him so painfully hard in his pants. "Baby, I think I'm gonna come~" you breathed out through strangled moans. You tilt your head up to look into his eyes, and he almost melts at the sight.

With half-lidded eyes, you look up at him with so much desperation and need that it almost tempts him to just push you on your stomach and fuck your tight cunt from behind. Your eyes are glossy, lashes wet while your cheeks were red, lips swollen and so beautifully kissable. A shaky breath leaves him and he pushes his fingers so impossibly deep into your pussy, making you cum hard on his fingers with a yelp.

"That's it, princess... Cum for me, let me make you feel good..." He whispers into your neck. He slows down his pace, dragging his fingers slowly in and out of you to help you ride out your high, a soft pop audible when he pulled his fingers out, white and sticky with your release.

He reaches into his mouth, sucking his fingers and licking what was left of your essence, and it makes him moan just tasting you on his fingers. "Baby, stop.." you whisper weakly, trying to pull his hand away from his mouth, "I can't... I don't want to when you taste this good..." He smirks, licking his fingers clean and showing how proud he was.

It makes you blush how eager he is, and when you feel how hard his dick is, poking at you from behind, you know it's gonna be a long night.. "I'm not done yet, my love.." he whispers, "there's still so much... So so much I'm gonna do to you"

#bi han smut #bi han x reader smut #bi han x you #bi han mk #mk1 bi han #smut #smut fanfiction #bi han sub zero #sub zero x reader #mk1 2023

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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 5 months ago

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hello hello can i ask for reader (either new transfer or someone they're just consulting with) hellbent on avoiding and not talking to spencer bcs he keeps rambling off about stuff everytime they're in his vicinity but they just have a really bad history of men mansplaining things to them so even tho spencer doesn't give off that vibe they just can't help but be sensitive to it 😔🤲🏻

tweaked jussst a bit gn!reader. i need to work on making my brain bigger so i can give more detail for spencer.

“well there many ways one can create their own bomb. they could use proper chemical equipment or just simple house hold items you can buy from anywhere.”

“well actually there’s only four ways to create one and most people go the homemade route. which is the most difficult to trace due to them being bought in plain sight.” a tall, skinny agent beside a man in the well pressed suit just reiterated what you said. you took an exhale through your nose to withhold an eye roll.

“yes, what i said. sulfuric acid is a common ingredient so i’d look into people’s recent purchases and cross reference that with their past criminal history.” you moved around lab as you shuffled and stacked papers, “if you need anymore help seems you already have someone with the answers. good luck.” leaving the two federal agents behind as you exited into the hallway with a tiny chip sitting on your shoulder.

what was the reason to seek you out if they already had someone who’d know their answers? probably once they saw who you were they wanted to intimidate you, that one guy wanted to show off that he knew the same information as you. no one ever gave you the respect in this department, many ‘colleagues’ have taken credit for work that you’ve done. they always talk over you or explain a concept that you already knew, seeing as you were in the same field as said mansplainer.

“someone looks to be in a mood.” oh great, if your hour couldn’t get worse. you didn’t bother looking at dr. fray, he was said mansplainer that always thought he was more inept when really you have a higher standing than him.

“since you left those agents on their own i stepped up to help them by giving further detail into their investigation. just helped save some lives, no big dealio.” your periphery saw how he walked with a certain air about him, one that many men carry without a care in the world.

you rolled your eyes as you kept walking to your office, “whatever. they already have someone who knows this information so we weren’t needed anyway.” you pulled your keys from your coat pocket, “well it was not fun walking with you. off you go, fray.” shielding yourself by throwing the door in his face.

you wanted to be away from any type of male for the rest of the day, not wanting to hear their unnecessary chatter, they just like the sound of their own voice. neatly arranging your files on your desk and placing your coat over the back of your chair you were ready to finish some documents when there was a gentle knocking to your door. you weren’t expecting anyone for a meeting so when you were faced with the lanky agent from earlier you couldn’t help as your face shifted into one of annoyance before shifting into neutral.

“was there something you needed, dr. reid?” arms crossed defensively over your chest. you internally hated how he seemed to know almost everything know to man and he seemed to be about your age. you wanted to rip your hair out halfway through your bachelors degree.

dr. reid’s mouth was pressed into a tight line, his fingers twiddling with this satchel strap over his chest. “i- uh i overheard a bit of your- your conversation and just wanted to… apologize?” he ended with a question.

your brows quirked, “apologize? for what?” confused on what was happening. men rarely apologized to you, you’ve been ran down on the street by guys who don’t care about anyone else on the street.

“i didn’t mean to overstep earlier. i understand to an extent what it feels like for people to talk over you or just ignore what you’ve said.” your anger melted just a bit at his words, “and i know for you it’s harder. there’s statistically less then 0.05% of non white males in many fields. i can tell you worked hard to be in this position, so i apologize for earlier.” his mouth probably ran just a tad faster than his brain.

you dropped your defensive stance, hands to link at the bottom of your stomach as you gave dr. reid a friendly smile, the first of the day. “thank you, dr. reid. i appreciate that you recognized your actions and acknowledged my feelings.”

he rocked on his feet, “you can call me spencer.” he said shyly, “also i’ve read a couple of your thesis. and if you have the time when this is over i’d- i’d love to discuss them with you.” you noted how his cheeks started to tint into hues of pink, it was cute.

“would be nice to talk with someone that has a fully functioning brain. you know where to find me, spencer.”

#erin writes spencer #erin’s blurb requests #a 1k special #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid early seasons #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine

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riki-riks-chick · 6 months ago

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Edging Jungwon till he cries?

Milk ┃Y.JW

sub!jungwon x dom!reader

yn punishes jungwon for touching himself

cw: handjobs, orgasm denial/delay, edging, kissing, mommy kink, yn calls jw kitten, cum eating, crying, over stimulating, dacryphillia, cock rings.

wdct: 530

i rlly didn't know how to make a full fic out of this so it's rlly short. sorry 😔

═════════════

Third Person POV~

"M-Mommy please... I've been so good.. Let me cum.." Jungwon is pent beneath you, you're straddling his thighs and his wrists are tied to the headboard with your favorite blue silk ties. You've probably been here for only fifteen minutes now, and Jungwon's already a whining mess, squirming and begging beneath you.

"Oh, but kitten we're just getting started." You laughed seductively, making Jungwon shiver. You trail the coffin shaped length of your nail down his length, running over the baby blue cock ring that's sitting prettily against his rosy flesh.

You're fully clothed, having just come straight home from work, pantsuit now slightly wrinkled from the position you're sitting in. You found Jungwon playing with himself and you decided to punish him just for fun.

Now he was begging to cum, and you weren't planning on letting him any time soon.

You wrapped your hand around his length, stroking him with a slightly fast pace, the melodic sounds of your silver bracelets clinking echoing with every flick of your wrist.

He squirmed beneath you, wanting to move his legs but being unable to with your weight on top of him. His cock is dripping precum, and the rosy red color of his tip reflects his need to cum.

Everytime he gets even remotely close, you stop, and it's unbearable. "Mommy... Please.. I wanna cum.." He's near tears and it turns you on even more. The way he's pulling against the silk ties, the way his cock is twitching against the air, and the way his hair falls into his eyes. It's all so hot.

"Jungwon... Baby, your begging is useless.. Bad boys get punished don't they?.." He nods at your question, though he's still sniffling. It's clear he's in shambles.

You continue tugging at his aching erection and he moans loud, writhing beneath you. "Mmm.. fuck.." He whines, bucking his hips into your hand as you pull away yet again, ripping him from yet another orgasm.

He cries this time, fat streams of tears rolling down his cheeks as he sobs, his cock twitching pitifully. "Please... I can't take it anymore.. It hurts.. Let me cum, please.." He's now pleading and your heart is hurting watching him cry.

"Oh, my precious kitten... You're so pitiful, baby.." You smile, leaning down to kiss him as he kisses back eagerly, whimpering against your lips.

"You wanna cum that bad? Hm?" You ask as he nods. "Yes, please mommy.. Wanna cum so bad."

You smile at his earnest, wiping his tears as you take his length into your hold once more, fisting his tip as you rub it mercilessly, watching him buck against you.

"I-I'm gonna c-cum..." He sobs, moaning loudly as you stroke him faster, watching his load shoot from his blushed tip, landing either on your hand or his abdomen. "Good boy.. So much cum, kitten..."

You pull your hand away, dragging your fingers through his cum before sliding them into his mouth. He moans around your digits, sucking them clean.

"Perfect.. Good kittens always finish their milk.."

═════════════

im not into mommy/daddy kinks but i felt like this might be fitting idk. hope this was okay.

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard headcanons #enhypen hard thoughts #enha smut #enhypen smut #jungwon smut #yang jungwon #jungwon hard thoughts #jungwon hard hours #enha jungwon #jungwon drabbles #jungwon imagines #jungwon fic

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yeonboy · 2 years ago

Text

𝐧𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ♡ choi yeonjun.

If you had known that a fun night out eating junk food with your best friend that you have always harbored a crush on would turn this sour because he misunderstood your words, you would have kept your mouth shut. Now Yeonjun has gone radio silent on you and if you want to salvage your friendship, you will have to get over your feelings first because he will never forgive you if he finds out. Right?

❧ choi yeonjun x f. reader | 16+ | college!au ♡ best friends to lovers!au ♡ angst ♡ humor ♡ fluff

❧ 7 k words

❧ warnings! inaccuracies wrt college sports/scouting/ice hockey, profanity, suggestive language, suggestive scenes, discussion and exhibition of puck bunny behavior, mentions of slut-shaming, misunderstandings, miscommunication, jealousy, some pining, yeonjun is stooooopiiiid, yn is also stooooopiiiid, one (1) singular heavy makeout sesh that gets a little out of hand hehe (:

❧ note! hi, world! this is a sideblog i created v v recently, but you won’t find links to my main anywhere bec i’ve decided to be a catfish on this one (: LOL jk, i just wanted a fresh start. i will be cutting back on the hoeing around i used to indulge in w my writing on that blog, and keep this place as sfw as i can - we’ll focus on tummy-aching angst instead! w a happy ending ofc bec ya girl is a softie 😔

leave me feedback if you like this! follow for more! (:

❧ masterlist | inbox ⁘

"Dude, this has gone so fucking soggy, it's like chewing leather. Please stop eating it."

Your words of disgust and grimace of distaste were, unsurprisingly, nothing to deter your best friend from munching on the cold fries he'd left for the last when he'd been too busy gobbling down his burgers. Stuffing a handful into his mouth like an actual ape, he in fact wiggles his eyebrows at you in a challenge.

"I feel like I've seen an orangutan eat exactly the way you just did, Choi Yeonjun. Please stop."

That makes him giggle and clear his mouth, finally raising his hands in surrender. "Kay, I give up. They do taste like leather."

"Not even gonna ask how you know that… But this is why you're supposed to have your fries with the burgers and not after it."

"But they mess up my palate!"

When he pouts like that, it's so hard for you to believe that he's the university’s senior ice hockey team’s ace, their Center, their captain, and that he’s looking to get scouted professionally, this year. When he pouts like that, he takes you back to the time you first met him on the first day of your high school, both clueless freshmen with wide, innocent eyes full of huge dreams about your future.

Dreams that you're both very, very close to making a reality, now – him as a professional hockey player, and you interning at the law firm of your dreams.

Damn. Time sure flies fast.

“What? Is there something on my face?” Yeonjun tilts his head and you blink away from your thoughts, averting your gaze from his to instead stare at his shitty, soggy fries.

“Yeah. Stupid. A lot of it.”

Yeonjun rolls his eyes and rips a tissue out of the dispenser on the table to dab around his mouth just in case, and that gives you room to breathe in and out and try to will away the heat you can feel in your cheeks.

See, now, the thing is – you don’t necessarily have romantic feelings for your platonic best friend of eight years. That’d just be absurd and kind of creepy. But you sure as heck have always harbored a crush on him.

It’s just impossible not to!

Guy has always been literally the most gorgeous human being you’ve ever seen, even at the universally ugly age of fourteen. He’s a gentleman, always kind to every single person in his life, would probably cut a limb off for a friend in need, and ever since your sophomore year of college, he’s gotten into manically coloring his hair, which…is seriously injurious to the onlookers’ health because dear God, the dirty blonde of his hair with the dark roots peeking through from his middle part? Makes your heart literally pound.

And he isn’t even doing anything! Other than being gross with a tissue paper and inedible fries, which should absolutely turn you off from ever liking anything about him, but it does the opposite.

That is another thing about him – he’s too freaking smooth and sexy about every damn thing in his life. The day his hair turned from black to blue, nearly two years back, he developed all these flirty charms on top of his kind ones. Now he isn’t just an insanely handsome dude who’d hold your hand to help you cross the road, but he’d also freaking wink at you when you thank him for his kindness.

You as in a person, not – not you. He’d never wink at you, you're too friendzoned for that. And it's kind of a blessing because you’d probably run the risk of jumping back into oncoming traffic if he did.

Wow.

You can’t count on one hand the number of times you have had to tug on the reins of your heart when it’s tried to take a flight, jumping off the cliff of your very inconvenient crush and into the bottomless abyss of having actual romantic feelings for him. Because that would be catastrophic. And not just because you fear he'd reject you and you’d lose the one person who means the most to you in the world.

“Should I get more burgers?”

Your gaze snaps to him in surprise. He’s pouting again, this time looking at the greasy fingerprints laden menu card kept on your table. The anxiety that had started to churn in your stomach at the prospect of your very concerning crush turning into something more, suddenly leaves and you huff out a small laugh.

“You’ve had six in the past hour, Jjun. I’d say stop for the night, maybe?”

“Hey, I have a big appetite!” He scowls at you. “And it’s close to midnight, already! You know I begin my diet for the season from tomorrow!”

You groan. “Well, then, why did you ask?”

“To be encouraged, of course! To be comforted.” He widens his eyes and blinks at you. “Or did you forget I’m also supposed to be nursing a broken heart?”

The groan you release at that is loud, drawn out and filled with a year’s worth of exasperation. This is the other reason why you catching romantic feelings for him would be catastrophic. His emotional quotient is seriously questionable when it comes to the matters of heart. If he could love a partner half as much as he loves dogs, maybe he wouldn’t be ‘nursing a heartbreak’ because of the fifth person that has dumped him since your final year began. And you aren’t even done with your mid-sems yet.

But you don't tell him that, instead patting on his leather jacket clad forearm with a fake sympathetic expression. “Ah, yes, poor you. My deepest condolences to your heart.”

He knows you and your bullshit and you know he does, so the attack that his hands launch at your throat in the next two seconds doesn't surprise you, and your defensively raised shoulders don't surprise him.

You're both dissolving into giggles, then, having nothing short of a wrestling match across the small cafe table. "I really liked Lea, okay?"

"Oh yeah? You didn't even—oof, that tickles! You didn't even know she was Kai's sister!"

At that he lets go of you and slumps back in his seat with a scowl. "Please don't remind me. I still worry he's gonna stab me in my sleep someday…"

You place a palm over your mouth to stifle your laugh. "To be fair, Lea shouldn't have been indulging in puck bunny behavior if she didn't want to be treated like one."

"Don't say that wo~rd," Yeonjun whines with his whole head thrown back. "She's Kai's sister! And she's younger than me!"

"Just by four months! Stop being dramatic, Jjun. She's a junior at college – she knew what she was doing."

Yeonjun doesn't look convinced. "I mean… I don't think she was with me only because I'm hockey captain. She knows all of HK's friends personally."

You wonder why he is defending her. Did he actually, genuinely like the girl? Romantically? What are the odds of Yeonjun finally making an attempt to open his heart up to someone and them ending up dumping him? He doesn't really look that dumped, though, so you figure that this must be out of some misplaced protectiveness he feels for one of his best friend's sisters.

Man should've thought of that before he dated her. Sigh.

"Yeah, which makes it worse." You wince when he frowns. "Come on, Jjun. She's known you since middle school but decides to make a move now? Only to break it off in three weeks because others are 'slut-shaming' her”—you make air-quotes around the term, rolling your eyes—“when they call her out for wearing another guy's jersey in preseason when she's supposed to be dating you. Can't tell me that's not manipulative and experienced puck bunny behavior."

Yeonjun’s eyes are wide when you finish speaking. “What…?”

“She didn't have feelings for you, Jjun! I mean, you obviously didn't have any for her either, but I hope you keep it that way with these girls. I highly doubt Lea even tried to get to know you at all, given how busy she was posting pictures of y'all on all her socials." His expressions haven't changed much, so you try to conclude your point quickly. “All I'm saying is, it is actually a good thing you’ve never taken these relationships too seriously. There’s more business than emotion with these clout chasers, Jjun.”

Yeonjun is gaping at you now and you're a little confused as to how to take it. Is he surprised at the revelation about Lea? You doubt that to be the case when the entire tale of their romance had been broadcasted all over the campus this past week.

So then…is he surprised at your opinion of things? You sure hope he isn't about to pick a fight with you because you're in no mood to concede. Not about this. Not when you've died multiple deaths every minute that Lea has spent being a pick-me by your best friend's side.

"I… She did have feelings for me, Y/N. They—the girls that I date all have some feelings for me, come on." He gives a small chuckle that is so wry, it makes you fidget in discomfort. “I haven’t taken these relationships that casually. I'm – I’m not some vain playboy, sleeping my way around the college.”

Okay, hold on – what?

What?

How did he take that away from your rant? He's really defending himself when you never even attacked him? When you never would attack him?

"Yeonjun, no… That's not what I'm trying—"

"Let's – let's just drop this." He looks distressed, and the frown on his lips makes your heart hurt. More so because you are the one who put it there. "You won't get it, anyways."

Now that – gives you a pause. "I won't…get it?"

He gets up, unbothered and unabashed, and walks with his tray of empty wrappers and inedible fries to dump it into the trash can near the exit of the cafe. You wordlessly follow, tilting your head in an attempt to catch his eye, but Yeonjun's got some 5 inches on you so you can't really force him to look at you when he doesn't want to.

And now he's walking out of the cafeteria.

"Jjun?"

He sighs and stops, looking over his shoulder, straight into your eyes with a bored stare. "What?"

"What? You're, like, not even gonna explain that last sentence?"

This time you're the one with the wry chuckle while Yeonjun fidgets in discomfort.

"What won't I get, Yeonjun?"

"Look, it's… well. You’ve always subtly looked down upon all the girls I’ve dated in college, and that was fine. You’re my best friend, you’re allowed to be a critic.” He shrugs with a nonchalant look in his eyes, but his lips are still twisted sourly. “But… I never realized you thought I was the problem. Someone so vapid that my only appeal is the fame hockey gets me.”

No… literally when did you insinuate that?

You're rendered mute, taken aback by how badly Yeonjun seems to have interpreted your words. He exhales and it sounds very loaded. You don't miss the way he keeps avoiding your gaze; nor the disappointed frown that decorates his forehead.

“You won’t get it because you don’t want me, you’ve never wanted me – and that is absolutely cool! But just because you like to have me as a comedic relief character in your life doesn’t mean that no one sees any depth in me.”

“A… comedic relief character?” your voice comes out low and hoarse and almost tattered, a little shrilly from disbelief. You're not even gonna touch on his 'never wanted him' claim because the rest of his speech has your brain actually spinning. “What the hell are you talking about? This isn’t about you – it’s about these girls… You’re my best friend, Yeonjun!”

“And yet you can’t find one reason why these girls would like me beyond using me for clout.” He gives a shrug and finally meets your eyes again. But his stare is absolutely vacant and unreadable. “You don’t use me for clout, though, and yet you keep me around. You obviously don’t care about my opinions, or you wouldn't have exchanged numbers with Changbin when I told you he was bad news. What else is there to our friendship other than laughing together, then?”

His words are like death blows – each syllable laced with a different kind of poison. Every inhale you take from the air his words have contaminated seems to sear a painful path through your lungs. Breathing hurts. Looking at him hurts. Your eyes are filling up and your tummy is aching.

There’s so much wrong with everything he just said, so much misinterpretation, so many actual blatant untruths, that you don’t even know how to begin correcting them.

How did you even get here?

You’d only been trying to warn him about girls that might use him. You were only trying to protect his heart.

How did that turn into him thinking you don’t value your friendship with him? That you don’t value him?

“Oh, and by the way,” he continues, pushing both hands into his leather jacket and looking into the distance, “Changbin’s probably gonna ask you to cheer for him this season, which is kind of a big deal because… you know, this out final session and there will be professional scouts present and all. So if you decide to say yes…” He pauses and turns to look at you again, gaze tired and eyes lidded. “If you say yes, I hope you know it’ll mean a lot more.”

Why is he bringing up Changbin again? You’d only exchanged numbers to get that guy's incessant ass off your back – you haven’t even responded to a single text he’s sent you in the past two months. Cheering for him? In a season as important to their careers as this one?

Absolutely out of the question.

Does Yeonjun not know you at all?

You’re about to tell him that, when he suddenly pulls his phone out with a sigh. “I’m planning to hand my jersey over to Chaeyoung – you know, running for senior cheer captain? Thought I’d ask for your opinion, but… You’ve already made that pretty clear tonight.”

Angry tears blur your vision and your heart hurts as if it’s dying a slow death in your chest.

Chaeyoung, really? So he’s skipping seamlessly from Lea to Chaeyoung.

Of course.

Why did you even bother worrying about his heart when he clearly doesn’t even have one. How could you forget.

Maybe it’s a good thing you never let yourself fall for Yeonjun beyond a crush.

“For what it’s worth,” you finally manage to mutter, brows furrowed and gaze focused on your worn out sneakers, “I’m sorry. I was trying to look out for you, not – not hurt you. You’re the most important person in my life, Yeonjun. I could never hurt you.”

You don’t wanna wait around to hear his response, so you just wordlessly walk away. Your dorms are hardly half a mile from here; you can shut yourself in your room and sob into your pillow in less than twenty minutes from now.

The fact comforts you enough to make you walk faster.

And also helps you ignore the pain that runs across your entire body when Yeonjun doesn’t even attempt to stop you.

You haven’t checked your phone in a while now but it has to have been over six am currently because you can hear your roommate moving around. Stealthily, you pull the comforter down from your face to peer into the dark room, only to hear a loud sigh echo around the place.

“You’re seriously still up?” Yuqi’s disappointed voice calls out. “The crying sounds stopped sometime after four so I reckoned you fell asleep.”

You wince in guilt. “Fuck, Yuqi, I’m so sorry I kept you awake—”

“Woah, what?”

She turns the lights on, suddenly brightening the room. Your roommate’s dressed in her cheer outfit, probably on her way to early morning practice. She is running for captain as well and the voting concludes in five days.

Cheer captain… Chaeyoung…

You can feel another bout of tears coming on, the back of your raw eyes stinging anew. Your head is pounding like someone’s cracked your skull open, but it still doesn't hold a candle to the ache that originates from your heart and makes your entire chest cave in on itself.

“Oh my God, babe, you look worse than you sound!”

You click your tongue and rub at your eyes. “I… Ugh, it’s been a weird night, Yuqi.”

She kneels beside you on the floor, face drawn in concern. “Are you okay?”

“I will be.” You try to sit up with her help. “I guess?”

“Oh, babe…” Yuqi sits next to you and draws you in an embrace. “What happened?”

“Y–Yeonjun,” you can barely articulate his name before your throat closes up again.

“Ah, man. What’d the idiot do this time?”

Yuqi has been your roommate and your closest friend since freshman year. Needless to say, she knows all about your friendship with Yeonjun and more than a little about your crush on him. She believes he’s too oblivious and doesn’t particularly like him for that reason. More often than not, you’re batting for his defense against Yuqi.

Right now, though, you feel like you’re gonna agree with every colorful word she uses for the guy.

So you tell her exactly what happened – give her a play by play of all the words said and reactions given, receiving hisses and grunts of annoyance in response, until you mention what he said about Changbin and Yuqi breaks your narration with a gasp.

“What the fuck?”

You just sigh and shrug a shoulder. “And he’s picking Chaeyoung to to wear his jersey for the most important season of his life, so I guess it’s whatever.”

“You know, it seemed to me like he was upset and acted out defensively… which would have been okay to a certain point, a misunderstanding that could be cleared out – had he not pulled that Changbin card. Why would he ask you to go after a teammate?” Yuqi tugs at the end of her ponytail in frustration. “And Chaeyoung? Literally the enemy? Now he's just an asshole.”

That last bit makes a small chuckle tumble out of you. “How… how is she, though? As a person?”

It’s so stupid of you to still attempt to look out for Yeonjun when he just dismissed your whole friendship. But you cannot help it.

“She’s… not a bad person, to be honest. As much as it pains me to admit.” Yuqi sighs. “She’s friends with the entire cheer team, friendly with the players, never been a bully to anybody. Hence why she’s running for captain alongside me.”

Should that comfort you? You believe it should. You warned your best friend about girls that might try to use him – and Chaeyoung sounds like she might not be that kind of a person. That’s good news, right?

So why does your heart seem to ache even more?

“Everything just...hurts, Yuqi. So much.” You tip your head against her shoulder. “What do I do?”

“Admit to yourself that you don’t just have aa crush on Yeonjun, for starters?”

You turn to look at her with surprised wide eyes. “What?”

Yuqi just rolls her eyes. “Come on, Y/N. You can’t move on if you don’t admit to it first, can you?”

Move on…?

Is that what you have to do now? Maybe.

If you want to attempt to salvage any bit of your bond with Yeonjun, it’s best if you at least get rid of the affection that permeates the boundaries of platonic friendship.

“And then maybe text Changbin back,” Yuqi continues. “He’s their goalie. I’ve talked to him a couple of times, he’s nice. Kinda cute? If nothing else, he'll help take your mind off of Yeonjun and Chaeyoung.

You just exhale a deep breath. “Maybe.”

16:37 | changbin (: congratulations to yuqi! tell her i knew she would make it :D

↪ Haha thanks! Will do!

soooo our first match’s three days away kinda wanted to ask u something before that meet me at the lockers after practice today lol?

↪ Oh it’s Monday already right? ↪ I’ll see you at the lockers, sure! ↪ How does around 7 sound?

perfect~~ just like your eyes >.<

“Ew, man, ewww…”

You press your phone to your chest with a gasp, turning to glare at Yuqi. “Hey! It’s rude to read over someone’s shoulder!”

“No, what’s ruder is you not telling me how cringey this guy is!” Yuqi is very close to rolling on the floor, and you really can’t blame her.

You’ve been texting back and forth with this Changbin guy for over a week now. He’s definitely nice and definitely more than a little cute, Yuqi didn’t lie to you.

But – the way this dude flirts? Good God.

Cringe must be an understatement. You have permanent goosebumps at this point because of how often you experience full body shivers out of the absolute secondhand embarrassment he has made you live through, every single day.

On the other hand, there's been radio silence between you and… him. Your best friend. His name sends a painful pang through your chest, so you've been avoiding even thinking about him. And Changbin's been a great distraction on that front.

That is not to say it has helped any feelings to blossom in your heart for the guy. His sweet but cringey self is a friend, at best. Your heart…is obviously elsewhere.

Things became so much clearer once you let yourself think everything over without any pressure and pretense, and admit to what you feel for your best friend, like Yuqi suggested.

Turns out you were wrong, after all. You really haven't succeeded at managing to stop yourself from falling further than a harmless crush for Yeonjun, because this constant hurt that has made home in your chest ever since he stopped talking to you? The wave of gloom that overtakes you whenever you so much as think about him? Surely a lot more harmful than what a crush warrants and surely surpassing best friend territory; by a leap.

The next step was attempting to move on with the help of Changbin, but that clearly fell flat on its face.

Exhaling a tired breath, you send a blushing emoticon back to the guy, and wonder why you're responding to his flirting when you know you've already failed and this is gonna end in tragedy.

“He sends you congratulations for making captain, by the way," you inform Yuqi when she's finally stopped giggling.

“Aw, did he say that was cool? As cool as your hair, maybe?”

You just groan and roll your eyes. “I’m gonna go see him tonight. He’ll probably offer me his jersey…”

That sobers Yuqi up. “Oh. So it’s time, huh? What’re you gonna tell him?”

You give her a wry smile. “What do you think?”

Understanding flashes across her face as Yuqi pats your shoulder in comfort with a sympathetic smile. “Well… At least you tried, yeah?”

Yeah… and failed spectacularly.

And are now hopelessly in love and helplessly heartbroken.

The locker rooms are nearly empty when you get there by seven. According to Changbin's text, he'll be there in the next five minutes and you are to wait by the rows immediately opposite the entrance to the bathrooms.

For a men's locker, the place is fairly clean and pleasant smelling.

You're in the middle of inhaling a chest full of some citrusy fragrance when the pitter-patter of a feet reaches you – and then abruptly stops. The small gasp that meets your ears before you've even fully turned around is enough for you to recognise him.

Why're you bumping into him here of all places?

He's been a ghost around the campus, as absent from your shared classes and the cafeteria as he is from your inbox – your life.

But here he shows up – to catch you waiting for a guy he's always warned you against and only told you to accept when he was mad at you.

You're beginning to regret this whole thing you began with Changbin even though you're here to end it tonight.

Swallowing, you swerve on your heels to come face to face with a freshly showered Yeonjun, dressed in a fluffy hoodie and a pair of sweatpants. Your heart hammers against your ribcage, head filling up with thoughts of burying yourself in his embrace. His hair isn't fully dried yet, with some of it sticking to his forehead, but…what draws your attention is how gaunt and tired his face looks.

There are large purple bags beneath his eyes and permanent frown lines around his lips. You're willing to bet this is not all due to the season's stress, because the last time you saw Yeonjun with dark circles was when you came down with a bad flu in high school and were bedridden for a week. He stayed by your side the whole time, despite both your mothers warning him about catching the infection, and barely slept.

You know it's a little unfair of you to think this way when you're the one that hurt him first, even if unintentionally, but you can't help wondering whether Yeonjun would still care if you caught a flu now. Would he even bother checking up on you, now that he's made it clear that he believes you don't think much of him and your friendship.

Does he still value you and your bond, despite the conclusions he's drawn about your feelings?

"What are you… oh."

Those are his first words to you in over a week, and the absolute disappointment on his face kinda makes up for the lack of verbal cues.

Your fists tighten on your sides, hating the way his eyes fill up with nonchalance and the way his lips purse. Why's he acting like he doesn't care? He should care!

But at the same time, you don't want him to think of you even worse than he has been. So you clear your throat and try to explain, "I've… I'm gonna clear things out with Changbin. Tell him I'm not interested so that he doesn't – he doesn't hope for anything more."

Yeonjun raises an eyebrow up, setting his jaw and lowering his eyelids. "You're good at that, aren't you? Ensuring that people aren't living with false hopes?"

Hearing his voice after so long fills your heart up with an emotion you're probably too inarticulate to explain. But his words, as snidely delivered as they are, confuse you. "What…?"

Rolling his eyes as if explaining himself to you is a waste of time for him, Yeonjun waves a hand in dismissal. "Nothing at all. He'll be heartbroken, though. Was really counting on you cheering for him. Are you absolutely sure you're not interested?"

His patronizing tone is a little too much for you, and even the lower pitch of voice he's using – one that you have always secretly fawned over – isn't able to curb your frustration. "Yes, Yeonjun, I'm sure. He'll live, he'll find someone else." And because you're beginning to feel irritated and jealous, you add, "If his second choice isn't Chaeyoung, that is."

You see the way a vein pops in his forehead and a sense of satisfaction runs through you at having struck a nerve. "Oh, so you've got words to say about Chaeyoung too, then? I thought you'd let her pass because she's famous enough by herself. Cheer vice captain, and all."

He's throwing you bait to rile you up, you know that – but you can't help the fiery fury that overtakes your senses either way.

Stalking up to him, you push a finger against Yeonjun's chest and glare into his wide, surprised eyes. "If you really think she's interested in you for you, go ahead and date her. Don't goad me into giving an opinion when you won't even care about it."

He brings a large hand up to wrap around yours, holding it tight in obvious anger. "Like you care about mine?"

"I'm literally here to say no to Changbin, Jjun! What the hell is your problem?" you yell out, pushing at his chest with your free hand – but to no avail because he holds your other wrist with his other hand as well.

"My problem is that you're saying no because you think this is beneath you!" he yells back, leaning from his towering form to bring his face to the same level as yours. "You think my girlfriends, my lifestyle – everything's beneath you!"

Your mouth falls open in utter shock because once again – this was never about him! "Yeonjun – no! For the last time, no, I don't think that! I don't think you're vain or unlikable, or that anything you do is beneath me, I just – I just fear someone will break your heart if you're not careful!"

"Is that so? You're not judgemental of the girls I date? Didn't you call Lea a – a puck bunny?"

"I didn't mean it like that!" you scream back and lean towards him, leaving barely inches between both of your fuming, frowning faces. "I was just getting metaphorical and, hell, maybe I was jealous because you've never asked me to cheer for—fuck…"

Panicked, you pull away from Yeonjun's loosened grasp, looking away from his raised eyebrows and open mouth.

You did not mean to say that. Not like this, not now… maybe never.

Face heating up like a damn furnace, you stumble away from your frozen best friend in a hurry. If he thought you were sabotaging your friendship before, he's going to absolutely hate you for harboring feelings for him. It's a blatant breach of his trust.

Shit, you should've begun to distance yourself when you first felt the tender tendrils of affection for the cutest fourteen year old guy you'd ever seen. You shouldn't have let those feelings fester – you shouldn't have let them grown into this beast that now stands to swallow your years' long friendship.

Tears prick your eyes, but there's no time to mourn right now – you need to get back to your dorm and bury yourself beneath a pillow before that.

But you've barely made it to the gates to the locker room when a firm hand grips your upper arm from behind and twirls you around. Back pressing into the wall, a gasp is torn from your chest when Yeonjun's huge, twinkling eyes cage you in. His arms resting on the wall next to you are completely unnecessary; you'd stand still through an apocalypse if he pinned you with this gaze of his.

"What…what do you mean you were jealous I never asked you?" he breathlessly questions, literal stars sparkling through his dark irises at you.

Now. If you were not adept at reading your best friend like a book, maybe you would have wondered if coming clean right now would make his eyes brighter or dim them instead. Maybe you would have debated whether lying your way out of this situation and apologizing later would be a good idea. Maybe you would have ducked from under his arms and made a run for it.

But because you have known this boy for more than seven years now, have observed every single expression of happiness and excitement that his face is capable of producing, have admired how adorable hope and anticipation looks on him – because you've loved him since the time you could barely even understand what love meant…you have no reason to doubt.

"I mean I wanted you to ask me, Jjunie. I wanted to be the one that'd be by your side, wearing your jersey and cheering from the stands for you," your voice comes out as a hoarse whisper, but Yeonjun clings onto every single word, given the stutters you can hear in his breathing. "I… I wanted you to look at me when you scored, point at me and tell everyone around us that…"

Your gaze flickers down his face, running across his nose to land on his parted, plump pair of lips. They spread a little to allow an airy chuckle to pass, and then form a wispy, questioning: "That?"

He's moved incredibly close to you, nearly touching your foreheads together and leaving an inch of space between your mouths. You look up into his eyes and they are hooded, spilling happiness, adoration but also something sincere.

"That," you rasp quietly, slowly in the small space between you, "that I'm your girl."

Yeonjun's exhale of minty toothpaste breath washes over your face, forehead tipping over yours and nose sliding against yours. When he speaks next, his lips brush the corner of your mouth and your body grows taut like a bowstring, ready to snap at the barest flick of his hands.

"Are you my girl?"

His voice has gotten incredibly lower and guttural and you just bring your hands up to clench into the fabric of his hoodie to ground yourself. Your eyes slide shut against the intensity of his own, breaths coming shorter and faster.

"I'd – I'd like to be. If…you'd have me?"

"Of fuck, baby, don't you know you've always owned me?"

You barely get a moment to process the term of endearment and the acceptance, let alone the actual depth and true implication of his words, when the softest pairs of lips you have ever felt brush against yours. Tentatively, so lightly that they almost tickle. Gasping in an exhale, you part your eyelids to find Yeonjun looking at you through a similarly shuttered gaze.

"Can I kiss you?"

Oh God, oh God, oh God—

“Yes, please.”

The words have barely exited you before Yeonjun is erasing any remaining space between you completely by pressing his mouth fully against yours. His lips feel even more softer than they look, molding against yours like a pair of clouds. Combined exhales of relief leave the two of you, breathing just as in sync as your bodies are. Your hands move from his jacket to run across his broad shoulders and your fingers wrap around the back of his neck, pulling him impossibly closer.

As if waiting for you to do just that, Yeojun guides both his hands to your waist, bringing you closer to him, before one of them detours to run past your waist and down your thigh to hook around your knee. His mouth opens against yours, then, teeth biting into the flesh of your bottom lip. With a shuddering gasp, you hold onto him tighter and allow him to lick into your mouth, lost in the taste and feel of him.

His hand grips onto your leg to lift it from the ground and wrap it around his thigh, allowing him to slot his hips against yours perfectly. You can feel yourself spiraling, unable to form coherent thoughts beyond the heady rush of electricity that zaps through you with every pull of Yeonjun's lips. When you begin to grow breathless, his lips detach from yours to slip down your chin and press against your throat.

A mixture of gasp and whine escapes you, making his grip on you tighten and his lips turn bolder in their exploration of your neck. You feel his teeth scraping over your collarbone and shivers run through you, causing your back to arch and press further into his body. He groans against your skin and runs his hand up your leg to caress the delicate skin of your thigh.

You realise this is getting kind of out of hand because you've just confessed your feelings and you're still in the damn locker room, but your eyes can't help but clench shut as your fingers tug on his silky soft hair, silently asking him to keep going.

But Yeonjun is far more in control of the situation than you are, given the way he turns his kisses from hungry to chaste, slowly. Pressing a closed mouth peck to your cheek, he rearranges his grip on you to pick you up with his hands beneath your thighs, and carries you to a bench. He sits down and drapes your legs over his own to make you straddle him, holding you firmly but softly in place.

He plants a soft, sweet kiss to your lips and rests his forehead against yours. Your eyelids part to the blurry sight of his shining eyes. It takes you a moment to realise you have tears in your eyes – and that he does as well.

With the softest smile that you have ever seen on him, Yeonjun brings a thumb up to your face and flicks at the corner of your eye.

"I've liked you ever since high school, you know?"

Your lashes flutter in fascination. "Really? But you never… you always…"

His cheeks grow pink when you scrunch your nose up instead of finishing the sentence, and he shuts his eyes. "You just never really showed any interest… You never looked jealous or bothered by my love life."

"I was being a good friend!" You chuckle when he rolls his eyes. "Besides, I had plenty to say about the girls you dated?"

He tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear, still looking at you with a soft gaze, but his lips have twitched into a devastating smirk. "But you never said I could date you instead."

A blast of heat flushes your entire face at his words. Remember when you said he never flirted with you and you were grateful for that? Yeah, you still stand by that. Your heart's racing so fast, it's a wonder it hasn't malfunctioned yet. Yeonjun reads your face, too, and pecks your nose with a giggle .

"I'm so sorry it took me so long to figure it out, baby," he then whispers to you, sounding so forlorn that the sound of his voice, especially with that pet name, makes you wanna cry again. "I should've realized you were jealous…"

"I'm sorry, too, Jjun," you whisper back, hands coming up to play with the drawstrings of his hoodie that your eyes focus on as well, suddenly hesitant to meet his open gaze. "I wasn't careful about my words and hurt you. I was a bad friend."

He chuckles at that, which draws your eyes back to his own again. "To be honest, I was more hurt because your words made me conclude that you would never like me back. So you literally don't have to apologize at all."

A smile blooms on your face. "Can I kiss it better, then?"

"Oh, you can always kiss it better, baby." Teeth flashing and eyes squinting, Yeonjun nuzzles into your neck, full of giggles that you mirror as well.

Right then, a call of your name resounds across the locker rooms.

Wait…

Fuck.

Changbin!

Yeonjun's wide eyes look at you with questions. You just sigh and shrug your shoulders.

"Back here, Bin!"

"Bin?" Yeonjun raises an eyebrow with his eyes narrowed, making you stifle a giggle.

"Should I try Binnie, then?"

He gasps in outrage, threatening to bite into your cheek, while you lean away to escape him, still suppressing your laughter.

Footsteps echo across the hall before a gasp is heard at the end of the aisle you're seated next to. Changbin stands rooted to his place, mouth agape and eyes wide. You've corrected yourself in your seat, but – your seat's still kinda Yeonjun's lap.

"I… um?"

You purse your lips in apology. "I'm sorry, Bin. I can't accept your jersey."

"I… can see that, I guess…"

To his credit, Changbin doesn't look a lot upset. Just very confused. You decide to try and help him.

"I can, however, get you Song Yuqi's number if you want?"

Instant fireworks explode in his eyes. "What? The – the cheer captain, Song Yuqi?"

"Mm hm. Cheer captain, my friend, my roommate. You know, the one."

"Wow, Y/N, that'd be so cool, man! Thank you!"

And then Changbin's hopping his way out of there without another word. Yeonjun breaks into laughter the moment he's out of sight.

"Poor guy kept asking me if it was okay to approach you and I kept saying we're just friends. He must be so confused, right now…"

You look at the boy who's still cradling you in his lap. "So. We're not just friends anymore, I hope."

He tightens his grip around your waist, eyes doing that thing where they switch from being rounded to suddenly narrowed and intense. "That depends. Do you kiss your just friends like that?"

You nudge his nose with your own, heart thumping at the intensity of his dark eyes and the reality of your changing dynamics with him. "Only the ones I intend to do more with."

Yeonjun's eyes widen in surprise and then narrow further with mischief. "Is that so, baby? Well, how about I take you to a nice dinner date tonight and then we can discuss what more can happen later, hm?"

"I'd like that very, very much." Swallowing past the lump of emotions that suddenly lodges in your throat, you bite your bottom lip and smile.

He smiles back, but then brings a thumb up to tug your lip free. "Don't bite your lip, baby. You've got me to do that for you, now."

And then he kisses you again.

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