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xzaddyzanakinx · 9 months ago

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Missed me? Pt 3

Stepdad!Anakin Skywalker x Femme Reader

18+ MDNI

Warnings: stepcest/inappropriate relationships, cheating, kissing, flashback, past minor injury, angry/kinda violent thoughts

Info: honestly ur mom is rlly good at psychological warfare

You ran with Chewie in tow, your lungs on fire as you attempted to get home as quickly as possible. You skid to a stop on the pavement outside your house, the scene unfolding before you hitting you hard. Your mom, stomping out to her car and slamming the door shut. Throwing it in reverse and peeling out of the driveway without even glancing your way. You could physically feel the air blowing past you as she sped off out of the neighborhood.

You walked inside, terrified you’d find a mess. But to your surprise everything was in its place. You unclipped Chewie’s leash and let her roam about inside the house until she found a cool spot on the floor.

You could hear Anakin still working in the garage, he’d turned on some music to keep him company. Maybe you overreacted? She probably didn’t think anything of it right? It’s innocent enough. Anakin is notorious for leaving grease and oil stains in places they should never be. Like the time you painted your palm shoe-polish black just from opening the fridge.

It was nothing. Right? Anakin would be in here upset and waiting for you if something had happened, so everything must be fine. You thought back to your earlier conversation with your mom and recalled how annoyed she seemed about that coding mishap.

Relief spread through you, she was extremely anal about her work. A perfectionist through and through, maybe she’d received word the damage was worse than she originally thought. That would definitely warrant nascar level driving in her eyes.

Even so, you felt the need to placate her when she returned. After a shower and a clean set of comfy clothes you set about cleaning the main floor of the house thoroughly. Scrubbing each surface clean, vacuuming, mopping windex-ing the windows. You even cleared out the leftovers and expired items from the fridge. Going so far as to jot down the items that needed replacing.

Trotting over to the cork board mounted on the wall of the short hall leading to the laundry room and the garage door. This was where everything of importance lived, bills, grocery lists, to-do lists, even a family calendar. Something in red ink had been added to the calendar for tomorrow and you nearly stabbed yourself with a push pin when you read it.

‘Date Night 6:00 @Marzettis’

Written in the ridiculously neat and proper cursive that only could’ve belonged to your mother. If you measured the PSI of your bite force right now, you were one hundred percent sure it would be enough to bite off your mother’s writing hand. Your jaw was clenched so tightly that you heard your molars squeak in protest.

Jabbing the list into the cork with the pushpin you let out a breath that you’d been holding long enough to make you alittle lightheaded.

Calm down. They’re married. Married people go on dates. Anakin can’t really reject his own wife can he? No. No he can’t. It’s okay.

You shook out your anger, resolving yourself to ignore the fact that your stomach was churning with nerves and your tongue burned with unspoken venom. There was still things to do. And doing things is good. Scrubbing every centimeter of the bathroom shower with such aggression that you permanently bent the bristles of your favorite scrub brush was definitely a healthy alternative to committing a felony.

Hours passed and Anakin finally returned from the garage sending the current vehicle he was working on back to its owner a full day early. It’s amazing what alittle midmorning pussy pick-me-up can do for a man.

It also probably helped that your tiny arms shaved off at least an hours work of dismantling parts of the engine that were in his way of retrieving the piece he actually needed to extract. Though he’d milk his coincidental success as the result of your passionate rekindling for all that it’s worth. It couldn’t hurt to test out that theory a few times could it?

“Whoa.” He snorted, seeing you to his left scrubbing the inside of the washing machine. “What the hell are you doing?”

You lifted your head a bit too fast and wacked it on the lip of the washer, immediately wincing and bringing a hand to rub the top of your head.

“Apparently I’m doing my damndest to give myself a concussion.” You joked, glancing over at him in his sweaty, greasy clothes.

“There’s this guy who has disgusting laundry, that occasionally leaves residue in the washer.” You dramatically explained.

“So I’m doing him a favor and saving him from an accidental repeat of the fancy hand-towel stain incident of 2020.” You grinned and watched as Anakin mirrored your expression.

“Lucky man.” He chuckled, coming over to give you a quick peck on the lips before rushing off to shower.

Dinner rolled around and you decided to order in, the local Chinese restaurant had the best egg rolls around, and that was just what you needed. You texted your mother to ask for her order and jotted yours and Anakin’s down on a scrap of paper.

~be home alittle late. Just get some Udon for me.~ She responded quickly.

Easy enough. You called in the order and it was delivered and delicious in around 30 minutes. You spread out the feast on the kitchen counter and laughed at Anakin practically drooling over the crab rangoons he was shoveling into his mouth.

“So whens she gonna be home?” He asked, not even bothering to cover his mouth despite chewing like his life depended on it.

“She just said late.” You shrugged, late could mean anything. 10 minutes, an hour; it’s a ridiculous measure of time that you’d always had trouble accepting.

“Well.” He clicked his tongue as he popped open a cold beer from the fridge. “Wanna watch a movie or something?”

“Oh actually, you know what he haven’t done in a while?” You grinned.

“Housewives?” He smirked.

“Yes sir. Take your pick.” You scooped up your take-out box and made a beeline for your favorite seat, the comfy and worn out recliner.

“I’m thinkin’ New Jersey.” He mused, kicking his feet up on the coffee table and searching for your guilty pleasure show.

There’s something comforting about watching someone else’s life like this. Honestly you found it… strangely calming to know that other people have more stressful lives than you. And of course it didn’t hurt that you really loved a bratty cat-fight. Scripted or not, it was undeniably as entertaining as a train wreck.

It would seem that your mother’s definition of ‘late’ was around 45 minutes, she walked in the door as chipper as ever. Doing wonders for your earlier worries; nothing seemed amiss to her.

She took in your comfortable nest of blankets in your recliner, Anakin’s lanky legs draped over the armrest of the couch with his head propped on a pillow. She was… assessing the scene and found no evidence of any foul deeds.

“It was a good idea for take out.” She said, tossing her items on the table. “I’ve missed these noodles.”

“Oh I know.” You agreed. “I saved an egg roll for you.”

“Thanks sweetie.” She said, flashing a blank stare and an empty smile over her shoulder that went unnoticed by the both of you.

“So Marzettis, is that alright for tomorrow?” She asked Anakin sitting on the couch near him with her food.

“That new Italian place?” He asked, his eyebrows pinched together. “That’s the one Obi took Satine to isn’t it?”

“Yeah it is,” she nodded, seemingly pleased he remembered. “They gushed about it so much I figured it was time we try it.”

“Alright, as long as there’s breadsticks I’m happy.” Anakin smiled.

Meanwhile you were boiling in your seat as you listened to their conversation. Just like in an old cartoon you swore the top of your head would screw itself off and rattle with white hot steam. Honestly, you wished it would. That might just be the only way to get rid of this pressure in your skull without *actually* combusting.

You suffered through their small talk and meaningless conversation about blah, blah and blah. Finally, the episode of Housewives ended and you made your quick egress to your room with a wave goodnight.

You lay awake in bed, planning your to-do list for the next day. You needed to keep yourself busy and entertained to avoid falling victim to the wallowing hole of self pity that is your mind’s way of ‘coping’ with your jealousy.

To-Do:

Wake up

Scream

Nap

Repeat

Perfect.

You woke up, unsure as to when you actually fell asleep; though arguably in a 73% better mood just from the simple fact that you could hear power tools being used in the garage. It was comforting. The noise used to bother you, irk you to the edge of insanity, because who in their right mind would wake up and use the loudest power tools known to man at 6:00am?

Anakin would.

Every time you woke up to the noise, it reminded you of your first kiss, what could be a better way to wake up? Except for maybe an actual kiss from him.

You had stomped from your room to the garage, having been woken up at 6:00am *on summer break* for the previous 4 days. You threw the door open and yelled for him, but he didn’t hear you. Between the loud grinding sound of metal on metal and the earbuds he had in, you had little choice but to pull something dramatic.

Spotting the extension cord you had unplugged it and relished in the momentary silence before hearing Anakin cursing and repeatedly flipping the switch. You stood and observed with a self-satisfied grin, crossing your arms and jutting out your hip as you waited for his small man brain to figure out what happened.

Karma wasn’t something you believed in until right then, because without even looking up he yanked on the extension cord and the hard plastic socket whipped your thigh leaving an almost immediate bruise.

“Fuck!” You yelled, clenching your fists and biting back a string of words so hellish you might’ve burst into flames if you screamed like you wanted to.

Anakin’s head shot up and he ripped out his earbuds, momentarily confused when he didn’t see the source of the very angry curse word. That was until you hissed as you poked at the tender bruise.

“Oh shit.” He mumbled, rounding the front end of the car to get to you. “Hey- hey sweetheart, what the hell are you doing down here? It’s awful early for you to be up.”

Oh that was it. That was not the thing to say to you right then. He could’ve called you a crybaby and you would’ve took it better than that innocent comment.

“Yeah? It’s awful early to be using whatever the fuck that thing is!” You grumbled, shaking his hand off your arm. “Do you seriously have to do that this early in the morning? Can’t you do something less… grating?!”

“Do you see any other vehicle here for me to work on?” He deadpanned.

“God you’re insufferable sometimes you know that?” You huffed, looking back down at your leg.

“Did you unplug that grinder I was using?” He asked accusingly.

“Yes I did.” You shot back. “It was getting on my fucking nerves Anakin.”

“Well shit- just let me-“ He sighed trying to pry your hands away from your thigh but you batted him away, swiping a droplet of blood across his wrist.

One of the sharp plastic corners had bit into your skin on impact and caused a teeny tiny nick. Though from the amount of blood trickling down your leg, one would automatically assume you had a proper slice of an injury.

“Baby c’mon just let me see? I’m sorry.” He said in a pained tone, you could tell he genuinely felt bad, even though this was mostly your fault.

“Don’t ‘baby’ me.” You had scoffed.

“Fine. My liege.” He grumbled sarcastically.

He approached with paper towels and crouched down to swat your hands away and dab gently at the wound, or rather, lack thereof. He attempted to hand you a paper towel to clean off your hand but you declined, anti-politely wiping off the blood onto his dirty work shirt.

“Are you serious right now?” He scowled.

“Are you almost done?” You countered, crossing your arms again.

“Yeah. It’s just a scratch. Turns out every inch of you is just as dramatic as your shit attitude.” He said, standing up, his height making you feel dwarfed.

“Yeah that’s what happens when-“ you started in an angry, belittling tone.

Though you were cut off and the world paused around you. You went stiff as he grabbed you by the shoulders and leaned down to kiss you. Before you even registered what was happening top-side, your body had already begun to relax in his arms. His big strong, work-worn hands pulling you into him while he slipped his tongue between your lips. Gliding lightly just behind your top row of teeth before you finally gave in and kissed him back.

Your eyes fluttered closed and you hummed know content when he released your waist to cradle your head with both hands, your own fisting his shirt as you kissed like your lives depended on it.

“Hey! You up?” Your mom knocked loudly on your door and broke the trance of the sweet memory. That 73%? Reduced to 32%.

“Yes.” You huffed and rolled out of bed, unlocking your door and letting her in.

“Great, I want to borrow a dress of yours is that okay?” She asked, heading to your closet before you could even respond.

No way. Absolutely no way. She was not wearing that.

“No. Pick something else.” You said sternly, taking the red summer dress and hanging it back up.

“What why?” She questioned.

“Because it has a hole in it.” You lied, “can’t have you going on your big date like that.”

“I didn’t see a hole.” She countered, going to grab it again.

“Trust me. There’s a hole.” And they’ll be another one: in the ground for her if she didn’t accept defeat on this.

“Fine.” She scoffed and drug out a few more options under your watchful eye.

“This one?” She asked.

“Yeah that one’s fine. It’ll look great.” You forced a smile and tracked her during her retreat down the hall.

As soon as she entered her room you slammed your own door shut and locked it again. You went straight to your closet and got the red dress, folding it and tucking it into the bottom of your sock drawer.

Was she intentionally trying to piss you off? No. She couldn’t have known. No one could’ve known other than you and Anakin. You had been so careful, going out of town for a date at the drive-in while your mom was away on a business trip. You’d worn that dress for Anakin and only Anakin, and you’d never worn it since that night, that first night.

In your state of confusion you didn’t notice the sound of Anakin’s garage noise die down.

Anakin had stopped for a coffee break and came inside, finding his wife at the kitchen counter. He gave her a quick smile and and poured some black coffee into a big thermos.

“Sugar? ‘Sugar’?” She asked sweetly, sliding the large sugar canister across the countertop to him.

“Uh, yeah.” He blinked slowly as if trying to rewind her words. “Yeah okay thanks.”

He shook his head and shrugged, raising his eyebrows in concentrated thought as he stirred the sugar into his coffee. The only person who has *ever* said that to him is you. That’s such a weird coincidence… what are the chances? It’s not like you call him ‘sugar’ any other time either. Only ever for the sake of making him smile when he fixes his coffee.

“Well. I’ll be out here then.” He said awkwardly, still very much miffed by the odd comment.

She ‘mhm’d’ in response, enjoying watching him slink back into the garage with his cheeks tinted in shame.

By the time 5:30 rolled around Anakin was in a nice button-up and dress pants, looking absolutely exquisite. That man really knew how to wear… anything, and nothing too. You had to ogle him from afar, watching his cute butt in those well-fit pants as he walked out the door following closely behind your mother. Who was wearing your dress.

You made a mental note to find an industrial shredder to take care of that ruined fabric when she returned it.

At Marzetti’s dinner was going well, much better than Anakin had expected to be honest. It was almost nice, in a weird way. The food was good, the atmosphere was pretty… he couldn’t help but be startled every now and again when he glanced over and didn’t see you across the table from him. You’d love this place, and damn he’d love to see you in it. He just knew the lighting would show off those sexy bedroom eyes you *swore* you never knew when you were making.

The biggest downside was that this place was alittle too expensive to be wasted on your mother. This kind of luxury should be reserved for his princess.

After an hour’s worth of awkward small talk and stupid conversational questions, Anakin got up to use the restroom.

When he returned he was shocked to say the least. The table had been cleared and all that remained was the check, and a thick manila envelope, he hesitantly picked it up and tucked it under his arm.

Fast walking to the front of the restaurant he quickly paid, despite the hostess’s request for him to return to his table because ‘payment is collected at your seat’. He fumbled with his car keys and clicked the lock button to quickly locate his black vintage Camaro… no dice.

He stood frozen in the middle of the parking lot, spinning slowly and spotting his parking spot… where the car *should* have been.

“That bitch took my fucking Camaro.” He whispered to himself, internally screaming at himself for being a responsible adult and having a spare set of keys safely stashed away.

He already had an idea of what was in that envelope, but now he didn’t even need to look at the title page. He just needed a goddamn pen.

Final Part

Tag-List:

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@angelsadmired @kaminokatie @anakin-pilled

@graveyard-stray

Let me know if you wanna be added/removed from the tag lists

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wooziorgans · 3 months ago

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1. through me || ljh

based off of this anon ask!

summary: after a particularly rough breakup, y/n has time to reevaluate his sexuality. and, well, you’ll never know if you never try; even if the guilt eats you alive.

pairing: idol!woozi x male soloist!reader

genre: best friends/roommates to ???fwb???

warnings: bi-curious reader. readers first time giving a blowjob. mutual blowjobs. soft dom jihoon but actually insane sub jihoon. praise kink. talking about sexuality. mentions of watching porn. implied bottom jihoon. mild homophobia. some internalized homophobia. reader has implied daddy issues. a bunch of svt members are queer in this. hardcore aftercare. slight given (anime) spoilers but not rlly. reader has a bad gag reflex. reader gags once. deepthroating. ass eating. rimming.

word count: 8.7k

masterlist | next

Your friendship with Jihoon was far different from all of the friendships you had with other people.

Maybe it was the nature of your jobs; both of you were producers, you spent the most hours of the day writing songs and fucking around with the equipment in your respective studios to fine tune your work. Both of you were particular, neat, and to some, might appear downright odd in the way you functioned on a day to day basis. All of this being said, ever since you met Jihoon, neither of you had ever formed such a solid friendship with another person quite as quickly.

Seungkwan had quite literally ran into you on his way to Jihoon’s studio one afternoon five years ago. He recognized you from around the building, and after apologising profusely for ten minutes straight, he asked you to join him for drinks later that night with a few of his bandmates as a way to pay you back for your now Americano stained t-shirt. The one day you decide to wear a white shirt, and a coffee addict ruins it.

“It’s fine, really. I have spare clothes in my studio. It’s really not a big deal.” You had said, laughing carefully at his obvious distress. You agreed to get food with him nonetheless, seeing as your friend circle was quite small since you had debuted as a soloist, and a self producing one at that.

Jihoon didn’t join you for dinner that night, but he did meet you three weeks later in the hallway. You had greeted Seungkwan as you saw him in the hallway on the same floor he ran into you on. Rather excitedly, he waved back, pulling you down the hall with him. You and Seungkwan had ended up talking for hours at the dinner he invited you to, alongside other members of Seventeen. They had been so warm and welcoming, despite how hard it was for you to meet new people, and it was almost instantaneous how fast you clicked with all of them.

You had, at this point, met almost all of the members; some briefly in passing, others more in depth, all with Seungkwan's help. The last remaining member was Jihoon, who you knew virtually nothing about other than that he also was a producer, and that Seungkwan said you would get along well. When Seungkwan pulled you into an unfamiliar studio, it was solidified. You ended up talking about music with Jihoon for hours, work abandoned on your desktop where you left it.

Through Seungkwan, and subsequently Jihoon, you discovered that there was quite a large queer community inside of the K-Pop industry; one that you had found yourself in the middle of, despite having no attraction to men.

That was until you had a rather big fight with a long term girlfriend over your best friend being gay. Jihoon liked to be upfront about his orientation, in case it was a deal breaker for any potential friendships, but seeing as you were being dragged around the Hybe building by Seungkwan, it was much easier for Jihoon to come out and tell you.

It wasn’t an issue. You were a lot of things, but being like your father wasn’t one of them. You thanked him for telling you, but reassured him that it wouldn’t be an issue for you. It was an issue for your girlfriend though.

She didn’t like how much time you spent with a gay man; assumed that every single interaction with him was him trying to ‘convert’ you. It was ridiculous, but a persistent issue throughout your entire relationship. You tried to avoid conflict by not bringing her around Jihoon, trying to sweep the issue under the rug, until it all came to a head.

Things had been tense in your relationship for a while, but one night while watching television with your girlfriend, the lead male actor had done some fan service and it left you feeling weird. Your girlfriend noticed the way your jaw tensed, and interrogated you until it suddenly blew up into a full blown argument.

“So fucking what if I think other men are attractive? That doesn’t change the fact that I’m with you, or that I’m in love with you.” You had said, and that seemed to put the final nail in the coffin of your relationship.

“Oh my god. He has fucking converted you.” She hissed, and all the months of reassurance, years even, seemed to be all for nothing. She called you nearly every single name under the sun, while simultaneously making your best friend seem like someone who came straight from the fifth circle of hell. It was non-negotiable for you. Insulting someone who understood you better than anyone else, who would’ve never judged you for the fleeting thoughts you had about men… it was over the second she opened her mouth.

Two years down the drain as you packed a bag and told her it was over, tears streaming down your face at the audacity she had to talk about Jihoon like that, but also for the wasted years you spent with someone like that. Someone so vile and full of hatred.

The queer community, as you had learned, was far more accepting and understanding than the straight community. Jihoon was an extension of that. When you showed up at his door, crying and out of breath from trying to contain your anger towards your now ex-girlfriend, he pulled you into his apartment, holding you tightly as he rubbed circles on your back. He let you in for the night, offering the spare bedroom he had in case his parents came to visit.

You didn’t say much that night, just told him it was over. You spared the details about the fight you had being about him. That would’ve upset him immensely, and you couldn’t deal with him being upset at the moment. You stayed the night, and then you never really left.

With the freedom of being single, you began to find yourself staring at more men, none of them were your friends, except for Jihoon. You had told Seungkwan while drunk one night that if Jihoon was a woman, you would be head over heels in love with him. Seungkwan had laughed it off, but as your attraction toward men began to confuse you, he was the first person you went to for advice.

He comforted you, cooing softly at your internal turmoil, trying to understand the best he could. Seugkwan offered advice when necessary in your conversation, but told you he wouldn’t be much help because he had always known that he was gay. If you really wanted advice, he had said, then your best bet was to talk to Vernon or Seungcheol about it. And so you did, though it took you three weeks to muster up the courage to text Seungcheol to talk about something ‘personal and kind of serious but not really.’

Seungcheol had been a very intimidating figure when you first met him, but he was the one who would text you to get drinks after work, and your friendship solidified quite quickly. You were close with Jihoon, and that was all he needed to like you enough to initiate a friendship. You shyly confessed to Seungcheol that you had been, in the time since your conversation with Seungkwan, having provocative dreams about men; omitting the detail that most of them were about Jihoon on all fours, something you were quite ashamed about.

It had been about seven months since your breakup when you had your conversation with Seungcheol, and you and Jihoon were roommates. Things like this could ruin any regular roommate dynamic, but you and Jihoon weren’t normal. Seungcheol listened to your internal struggles, and reassured you that it was normal to feel some confusion, that you didn’t have to have everything figured out right now, but that you were definitely bi-curious from what you had told him.

Putting a label on things gave you a little comfort.

You had been thinking about your conversation with Seungcheol, and subsequently what being bi-curious even meant, for a while before you brought it up to Jihoon, and seemingly out of nowhere. One night, in the downtime of a new action anime you had started watching, you asked him how he knew he was gay. All he did was raise an eyebrow before telling you. When he was finished he asked the dreaded question: why?

Yeah, why were you thinking about suddenly kissing boys? Women had been fine this far along into your life, so what changed? The easiest answer to that question was the man who had asked it. Jihoon was pretty, this was something that was an objective fact, and you’d always been drawn to pretty things.

The issue was that you lived together. Normally when things got weird inside your head, you’d run from the problem. This time you couldn’t just run; moving out suddenly wasn’t an option, Jihoon would know something was up, and you couldn’t explain why you needed to leave without sounding like a big fat liar.

You told him that you had talked to Seungcheol and Seungkwan separately, and that you thought you might be bi-curious. You told him you had started to think about one of your friends a little differently, excluding the fact that it was him. Jihoon comforted you, while softly scolding you for not telling him sooner, but reassured you that you could tell him anything and he’d help you the best he could. After your conversation with Jihoon, he resumed the anime you had been watching and held you close, making sure you were okay with it first, and things changed slightly after that.

So all you did was give in. Living together with someone who hates skinship as much as you do is strange because it’s a double negative. You both tend to stay away from other people, but somehow that cancels out. or maybe it’s just the Jihoon effect. Either way, living together had resulted in a nightly ritual of watching anime on the couch together.

It was how both of you decompressed before you lived together, so it was something you started doing in each other's company. Obviously you didn’t start getting clingy right away, but each night the distance between the two of you would get smaller and smaller until you ended up resting your head on Jihoon’s chest one night when you were extra tired. He didn’t say anything, just wrapped an arm around you and pulled you into him further.

And so it became a thing. Shortly after, Jihoon started laying down with his head in your lap. This was your favourite way to lay, because it allowed you to play with his hair.

Much like right now. Jihoon had never seen Given, and you were a little shocked to learn that. Not that all gay people need to consume all types of gay media, but for an anime buff as big as Jihoon, you were sure he had to have seen it, especially considering the plot. Jihoon was laying in your lap, long dark hair slotted in between your fingers. He preened like a cat when you massage a sensitive part of his scalp.

“I can’t believe you’ve never seen this.” You sigh, head leaning back against the couch. He hums softly, pushing his cheek against your thigh.

“Not all gay people know every single piece of gay media.” He laughs quietly. On the screen, Mafuyu strums his guitar softly, glancing to Uenoyama for approval. “Is this why you wanted me to see this? Because he has a red Gibson hollow body?” Jihoon turns his head up to look up at you. You look away from the television to see his big, brown eyes shimmering softly in the low light of the evening.

“No. It’s cute, and I think you’ll find the plot… decent enough.” You laugh softly, brushing a strand of hair out of his face. Jihoon just hums, turning his attention back to the show, and that’s it. That’s the end of the conversation for the time being.

A few more episodes in, a flashback scene between Mafuyu and Yuki had your head tilting in curiosity. Jihoon must feel the shift of your neck, because he’s turning his head back up to you.

“What’s up? Never seen softcore gay porn before?” He asks lightly. His tone is a little teasing, airy and careful around the subject. You’ve gotten to the point of being able to joke about it, even if your attraction to men is still quite sensitive. “I know you’re confused about things right now, but watching this kind of stuff with your gay best friend isn’t really gonna solve anything. You need to actually experience it.” He clicks his tongue softly, as though he’s unsure of what exactly to say next.

You fill that decision for him by speaking next. “I’ve already seen the entire series, Jihoon. It’s not that, I just… I guess I’m a little curious about what it feels like. Not that I want to… um, not that I’m thinking about that stuff right now. I’m barely comfortable with the idea of touching a dick that isn’t mine.” You stumble over your words, blush creeping its way up your neck in the familiar way it always does with the subject.

Jihoon laughs softly. “You know you can talk to me about this stuff, right? I thought we established that it was okay for you to ask questions.” His voice is still light, but it’s sincere. He wants you to know that you can trust him, and you do.

“Yeah, I know. It’s just, like— I’m just not used to it. I know that I find guys pretty, but I think I’m having trouble imagining doing anything with them. I don’t know if I could.” Jihoon hums in acknowledgment, his hand carefully slides over your thigh in an attempt to soothe you. It doesn’t work.

“Even if I sort of always knew, it was difficult to start doing anything. I mean, I lived with twelve other guys for all of my experimental teenage years. I didn’t really have the privacy or the time to experiment. We were new to the industry, I didn’t really have a foundation to start. But when I did, I took it slow.” Jihoon squeezes the flesh of your thigh through your sweatpants softly. “The first time I sucked dick, I threw up.” He laughs softly, and you follow. The image is amusing, but then you dwell on it for a second too long, and the image of Jihoon sucking your dick flashes briefly through your mind.

You shift in your spot to get rid of it. It works. “I don’t know if I’d ever be able to suck dick. That just seems like a lot.” You sigh softly.

“How can you be sure if you’ve never even tried it?” Jihoon rolls over onto his back, head still in your lap as he looks up at you. You resist the urge to run your fingers through his hair in this position. “Thinking guys are pretty and actually doing things with them are two very different things. You don’t really strike me as the kind of guy to just start sucking dick, but you don’t have to do everything right away.”

“I know, but isn’t it sort of expected? Like, women need foreplay, so isn’t some kind of foreplay needed with men too? Especially with… sex? Like you clearly have to stretch that shit open, and that’s a little scary.” You swallow hard. You know Jihoon’s watching your throat from the way his eyes follow the bob of your Adam's apple.

“Well yeah, but I think if you explained your situation to someone they could take care of that at first. And you don’t need to bottom right away.” Jihoon pauses for a few seconds. “What about sucking dick is so scary?” He asks, voice a little softer.

“All of it. Having something in my mouth.” Jihoon laughs softly.

“Yeah. Your gag reflex is terrible.” He butts in. You laugh, though it’s a little strained.

“What do I do if they cum in my mouth? Spit? I guess there’s also a little fear around not being good at it.” You exhale, and the illusion is broken. The one you carefully built up around Jihoon, even though he told you not to. The one that made him think you hadn’t actively been thinking about giving head instead of receiving it.

Jihoon sits up carefully. Your thighs miss the warmth of his head instantly. He’s looking right at you, big brown eyes somehow bigger than normal. “Have you ever tasted your own cum before?” He asks, and for a second you think, pray, that he’s joking, but he’s dead serious.

“What?!” You ask, slightly exasperated.

“I’m asking if you’ve ever tasted your own cum.” You stutter out syllables for a few seconds before finally gathering your thoughts to respond to him.

“I- uh, yeah. Once. It got in my mouth by accident.” Jihoon hums, shifting a little closer to you. You know he’s not satisfied with your answer though. “It was really bitter.” He nods softly.

“Was this before or after you moved in with me? If it’s before then it was probably your diet.” Somehow, Jihoon’s knowledge of fitness and sex always seemed to shock you. “You didn’t eat properly before you moved in with me. It should be a little sweeter now. Easier to swallow.” Something in his eyes shifts, and it’s dangerous.

“Jihoon—” He cuts you off swiftly, not giving you the time to digest the double meaning of his words.

“Do you think about kissing guys?” You nod weakly, shivering softly as his hand finds your lower thigh again. “Do you think you could kiss another guy?” Another weak nod.

“I’ve kissed Seokmin before.” Jihoon laughs softly, ignoring your attempt to dissolve the tension.

“I’ve kissed Seokmin. What about other guys? What about this friend you told me about?” He tilts his head, fingers ghosting up further on your thigh. At this point, you can already anticipate how the night is going to end, but you’d rather not focus on that right now.

“Uh, yeah. Shouldn’t be too different from kissing women, right?” Jihoon nods curtly.

“Right.” His fingers brush your inner thigh and you shiver softly. “All you need to do is find someone willing to help you out; let you try things in a judgement free environment.” Your cock twitches softly in your pants.

“Finding someone is the problem.” You sigh, head lulling back against the couch.

“You have me, though.” He almost purrs out.

“Jihoon, I can’t—” You start before it's quickly shut down.

“I know you’re curious. So do you want to try some things? You’ll never know if you don’t try, Y/N.” You nod softly, eyes squeezing shut as his hand finally reaches the top of your thigh. “We’ll keep it lighthearted, yeah? As far as you want to go, we’ll go. You can’t fuck me tonight though. I might not be clean enough for that right now.” The mental image of being balls deep in Jihoon’s ass is enough to get your cock twitching softly. Your sweatpants do fuck all to hide the slow growth of your erection as his hand moves higher up to your hips.

You cross your arms in an attempt to maintain some semblance of self control. “Then can I kiss you?” You breathe out a shaky yes. “Uncross your arms, Y/N.” You do as he tells you, letting them fall to your sides. He shifts onto his knees, before he’s moving.

“What are you— oh.” Jihoon pushes you back onto the couch softly, thick thighs straddling your legs as he sits down right on your lap. He laughs softly, gaze incredibly tender as he looks over your face, scanning for any discomfort. “Don’t look at me like that.” You laugh softly.

“Like what?” He tilts his head again, hand creeping up your neck slowly.

“Like that. With your eyes.” Jihoon throws his head back in a laugh, the air around you growing comfortable despite the nerves boiling in your stomach. His pale neck is on full display, and you briefly wonder what it would look like covered in hickeys.

“Shut up. I’m trying to kiss you, and you’re pulling this shit.” He sighs out another laugh, his other hand running up your arm. His fingers play with the hair at the nape of your neck.

“Sorry. I’m just nervous.” You breathe out, hands carefully moving to hold his waist. Your thumb rests on his hip bone, or where it should be. The fabric of his sweater makes it hard to pinpoint exactly where it is.

“I know. That’s okay. If you want to stop, just tell me, but I’m a good kisser so you don’t have to worry about that.” His thumb strokes your jaw, before he’s closing his eyes; pretty, long eyelashes fluttering as he leans in slowly. You can’t help the way your other hand rests softly on his ass. He puffs air out between his lips at that, and you close the distance between both of you.

Surprisingly, or more so surprising to you, Jihoon is a very sensual kisser. The second your lips connect, he’s taking it slow, letting the initial contact linger, before he starts moving his jaw slowly.

You move your other hand to his ass, carefully giving a small squeeze as you try to distract yourself from the small voice that’s whispering softly inside your head that this isn’t you, that you’re not gay. Jihoon whines softly against your mouth, and it’s enough of a distraction to pull you back into the kiss, back into him.

The flesh of his ass is soft. You expected it to be pure muscle, but it wasn’t entirely that. It’s firm, an obvious side effect of all the hours he spends in the gym per week, but there’s a layer of fat that makes it squishy. You know it would jiggle if you slapped it, and that makes you squeeze a little harder, the movement of your lips picking up in speed as you kiss him a little deeper.

He whines softly as your hand slips up his back, under his hoodie and shirt to caress his bare skin. Jihoon is a good kisser, and when he whines again as you knead his ass, you take the opportunity to slip your tongue into his mouth.

Immediately Jihoon is sucking on it softly, trying to elicit some kind of sound from you. It works as you grunt, hand on his back pulling his chest into yours in a quick motion that leaves both of you so dizzy. Your cocks brush each other in this new close proximity, and Jihoon releases his suction on your tongue to push his own into your mouth as well.

Jihoon’s tongue is soft and velvety against yours. He kitten licks into your mouth, soft whines and whimpers falling into your mouth as your hands explore his ass and back. The feeling of his ass under your hand makes you a little light headed. It’s just so soft, even through the fabric of his sweats.

Jihoon gives an experimental roll of his hips against your lap, bulge knocking into yours. Both of you moan out lowly, lips still brushing each other as you take a moment to process. Jihoon laughs softly, pulling away for a second to speak. “At least you’re hard. That's a good sign.” He jokes, one of his hands abandoning its place on your arm to run it down your chest.

“Fuck,” You gasp softly, as Jihoon rolls his hips again. “You’re just so fucking pretty, Jihoon.” You breathe, and it’s so incredibly honest it makes Jihoon’s skin burn. He almost pulls away before he leans back in, pushing you further into the couch as he grinds against you. His fingers curl around the fabric of your t-shirt, pulling you closer to him.

“Shit, baby, don’t say things like that.” He gasps into your mouth, before his head falls to the crook of your neck. His hips never stop moving, precum leaking from his tip, darkening the grey fabric of his sweatpants.

You can’t see the spot on his sweats, but you can feel it start to seep into your own sweats. Jihoon places a hesitant kiss on your neck. “Baby?” You question, tone teasing as your hand slides further up his back.

“Is it okay if I call you that?” He pulls his face away from your neck to ask the question. His eyes are searching your face for any discomfort.

“Call me whatever you like.” The hand on his back reaches the back of his neck, and you pull him in carefully for another kiss. This time, the sensuality is gone. It’s hungry.

You almost crave Jihoon’s small noises; crave the way he rolls his hips into you, crave (what you just realized) how fucking hard he is. The feeling of grinding against something with shape feels infinitely better. It makes your head spin a little at the realization; that you’d (at least right now) much rather have Jihoon on your lap than any woman.

You lick into his mouth, arm slipping out of his shirt, down his back and up to his face to hold it. You kiss him like you’re starving, or maybe it’s because you may never have the opportunity to do so again. He moans into your mouth, fingers catching on your shirt as he tugs it softly.

Your tongues fight back and forth in a perfect rhythm, sucking, nipping, biting at each other. You squeeze his ass a little harder, delivering a soft slap to it. Jihoon yelps into your mouth and you know you’ve got him right where you need him. Through your dreams about him, you’ve deducted that he might be submissive, and you can feel his control slipping away from him as you keep grabbing and kissing him.

The hand on his face falls, and you test your luck by placing your hand on top of your dick, palm up, when he lifts his hips. On the down motion, his cock makes contact with your hand and he breaks. More precum leaks from his cock, leaving a slight sheen on your hand. You give an experimental squeeze through his sweats and he moans loudly into your mouth, teeth clashing into yours before he pulls away.

“Fuck, I-I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that.” He pants, leaning his forehead against yours as he lets out a breathy laugh. You place a soft kiss to his jaw, craning your neck slightly to reach the area.

“Isn’t that the goal?” You ask, carefully giving a soft squeeze to his cock. He hisses softly, back arching.

“Well, yeah, but I-I gotta teach you.” Despite his subtle protest, he still pushes his hips down into your palm. You pull your hand away, letting your thumb rest on the hem of his sweatpants. You carefully push the single digit under the band, nail brushing against his v-line.

Jihoon pulls his bottom lip into his teeth, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. He goes to speak again, but for some reason can’t figure out what to say.

“If you’re gonna teach me, then tell me what to do. Tell me how to make you feel good.” You push your hand further down his hips, to his lower stomach and into the hem of his boxers. You can feel the heat from his cock radiating against your fingers. He shivers.

“Fuck. Gonna teach you how to suck dick.” Jihoon shifts, getting off your lap. Your hand slips back out of his pants, lingering on his waist. “Get on your knees for me.” He sits on his knees on the couch, before shifting to sit normally.

You do as he says, letting go of him to slide off the couch and onto your knees right in between his legs. He moans softly at the sight of you in this position, hands itching to touch you. Jihoon shifts forward. You rest your chin on his lower thigh, eyes wide as you wait for instructions on what to do. He doesn’t speak, just runs a hand through your hair as he gets his bearings. “You’ve gotten a blow job before right?” Jihoon asks breathlessly.

“Yes, I’ve had my dick sucked before.” You laugh softly, leaning into his touch. He looks completely fucked out already; face and neck flushed and you know it’s reached the top of his chest from all the times he’s thrown off his shirt after getting home from the gym.

“Then I won’t give you much instruction. Just feel it out. You know what feels good, so just go based off of that.” He brushes your cheek with his thumb. You nod, shifting to get closer to his lap. Now on your knees, you can really see how hard he is. His erection is straining against his sweatpants and it’s big. Jihoon’s size is a little intimidating, especially for a first time, and it’s not even out in the open. You carefully run a hand up his thigh, back to the band of his sweats, fully ready to pull them off him if he lets you, but then you stall for a second.

You move your face from its spot on his thigh, hovering right over his dick before you lean down and place a careful kiss to it over the fabric. Jihoon moans loudly, fist tightening in your hair. You nuzzle your face into his erection, giving him some kind of friction as you continue to work him up.

He swears loudly, lips parting as his breath quickens. You have the benefit of the doubt here; you know what feels good, your favourite ways past partners have treated you before going down on you, and you hope Jihoon likes similar things. He looks so pretty like this, and you feel some precum leak from your tip as your cock twitches at the realization.

You use both hands to push his shirt and sweater up. You place a trail of kisses up his cock to his stomach before you kiss the skin of his abs. Kissing almost pure muscle is different from the soft skin you’re used to. Somehow, you think you like it a little bit better when you sink your teeth into one of the ridges, sucking a mark into his abs.

Jihoon moans, pulling at your hair, hips bucking up off the couch. His sweater stays in place pushed up his torso as your hands move back down to his sweats. He lifts his hips off the cushions to help you. You pull his sweats down, boxers slipping further down his waist but not coming off. You take the opportunity to palm him through his boxers once his sweats are at his ankles, fully getting a feel for how hard and big he is. He’s not as thick as you are, but there’s still significant weight to his cock.

He’s hard and leaking, moans slipping past his lips as you continue to suck marks into his abs, trailing further and further down. you squeeze his cock, other hand toying with the hem of his boxers. His hips buck up again, a whine slipping past his lips. “Fuck, take them off please.” You laugh at the desperation in his voice. “It hurts.” He hisses, and you know, just by how tight they are on him that it does hurt, so you pull them down to his ankles.

His cock hits your neck as it springs free. You pull away from him, sitting back on your knees, hands rubbing his thighs. He shivers again, hand still in your hair as he pets it softly. “Scary?” He asks, voice soft.

“Yeah. I’m a little intimidated.” You laugh nervously, and he brushes your cheek again in reassurance.

“Just take your time. If you’re not feeling it, we can stop. I don’t expect you to deep throat me with your gag reflex being so bad, but just feel it out.” You laugh again, this time less nervous at his word. He’s right about the gag reflex though. He’s heard you gag from holding your toothbrush in your mouth for too long. Sucking dick is uncharted territory.

You lick your hand, wetting it to wrap it around his cock. Your hand shakes as it makes first contact with his cock, giving a slow, careful pump up his entire length. Jihoon closes his eyes as he moans, head falling back. “Fuck, sorry, it’s been a while since anyones touched me.” He lets out a breathy laugh, thighs shaking softly. You give another gentle stroke to his cock, milking the precum out of him on the upstroke. You can’t help yourself as your other hand falls down to his inner thigh, nails raking over the skin. He moans again, lip tucked in between his teeth.

“You’re so sensitive.” You coo, pushing his thighs further apart. “Legs up.” You prompt. Jihoon opens his eyes, lids heavy with lust as he stares at you.

“Put your legs up for me, pretty. I’m gonna eat you out.” You lean forward, kissing his upper thigh. Your face brushes against his cock, which you’re slowly working with one of your hands. He swears again, doing as you say. His sweats and boxers fall off his ankles and onto the floor. Your grip on his cock releases for a few seconds as you pull his hips further to the edge of the couch.

“Didn’t know you were into that.” He gasps softly when your hand wraps back around him.

“I’ve eaten ass before, angel. At least I know I can make you feel good this way.” The pet name of choice does something to Jihoon; he whines softly, desperately at the suggestion. Settled where you need to be, you lean down, flattening your tongue as you stick it out. His hole is pink and tight, perfectly smooth like the rest of him.

You knew Jihoon liked to shave, preferred to be hairless partially because of his idol image, but you now knew it extended to part of his personal care. There was not a single hair in sight, which was good for you. Part of your anxiety around men in general was the presence of hair. Getting your own hair in your mouth was something you hated, and so getting another person's hair in your mouth during an intimate moment was something that scared you more than it should have.

You lean down further, licking a long strip over his entrance. Immediately, his hips are bucking up, cock pushing itself further up into your hand which had stalled its movements as you assessed the situation. His balls hit your face, perfect and round; full. He whines softly, every last strand of his feigned dominance dissolving with the first intrusion of your tongue. You repeat the motion several times, getting him nice and wet before you start circling his entrance with your tongue.

Jihoon’s little noises pick up in volume and frequency, breathing growing frantic on top of you. He’s tense, something isn’t great for you to work your magic, so you pull away briefly. “Just relax, angel. You’re too tense right now.” You murmur into the skin of his ass. He exhales a shaky breath, relaxing his muscles as he leans back into the couch, now laying down with his weight resting on his arms so he can still watch you.

With his body more relaxed, you go back to rimming him before you carefully prod his entrance with your tongue. The hand on his cock starts moving again, jerking him off slowly. Your nose presses into his perineum as you start to push your tongue into him and his hand is back in your hair, grip tightening as you start to fuck him with your tongue.

You never did mind eating ass; if it was what your partner wanted, you’d do it. But eating Jihoon out has got to be the single hottest thing you’ve ever done. His moans are so breathy and desperate that all you can think about right now is making him feel good. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. So good with your mouth, shit.” He babbles, voice shaking as he speaks.

You keep fucking him open with your tongue, flicking it up inside him, despite the tight muscles protest. His cock is leaking nonstop now, slick precum meeting your palm as you continue to stroke him slowly, going base to tip. Your lips suction around his hole as you push your tongue in and out, picking up speed. Jihoon’s hips buck once again before he's whining out a warning. You pull your tongue out of him, sitting back on your knees as you let go of his cock. His eyes are wide in disbelief at you ripping his orgasm away from him.

“What the fuck?” He blinks a few times.

“I still need to suck you off.” Is all you offer, before Jihoon’s placing his feet back on the floor, using the hand in his hair to pull you closer to his cock. His eyes flicker, darkening, appearing sharper as he leans down to kiss you, tongue lapping at the inside of your mouth to taste himself on you. He pulls away, out of breath, leaving you slightly dazed at the shift in his demeanour.

The brief display of dominance is gone when he sees you staring at his cock, lips parting slightly as you try and calculate your first move. “Take your time. I know it’s scary.” His hand in your hair pets it softly, moving a few pieces out of your face. You shift forward, taking it back into your hand, thinking back to all the times you’ve gotten head before.

You start with what’s familiar, opening your mouth to pull one of his balls into your mouth. You never thought a dick could be pretty, but Jihoon is proof that this can happen. It’s perfectly straight, long and thick with a pretty pink tip. His balls are round and smooth; everything about his body seems to work with each other. You make eye contact with him as your lips wrap around his balls, tongue darting out to lick at the skin. He moans softly, hand pushing your hair out of your face. His own hair is covering parts of his face, a pure testament to how long it's gotten.

You switch your attention to his other ball once you’re satisfied with your work, repeating the same set of actions. Then it’s time to get to the main star of the show; his cock, which is painfully hard in your hand. You pull off his balls with a sharp pop, taking a few seconds to psych yourself up. You start by licking a long stripe up his shaft, hands settling on his thighs. His hand in your hair releases itself to give you more mobility. Once you reach his tip, you place a soft kiss over his head. His precum coats your lips, and you lick it off hesitantly. It’s salty, but there’s an undertone to it that’s sweet. It’s not unpleasant. Jihoon moans at the sight of you fully tasting him, hand back in your hair with his grip much less tight.

You open your mouth to take him in, breathing out as your eyes close to calm your gag reflex that you can already feel preemptively acting up. “Relax your jaw. It’s easier to open your mouth wider if you’re not so tense.” He suggests quietly. “It’s like singing vowels, relax the back of your throat and you won’t strain so much.” Musically speaking, it makes it easier to follow his instructions. You do as he instructs, opening your mouth as you use your hand to guide his cock into your mouth.

Jihoon’s tip hits your tongue, the taste of his precum filling your mouth as more leaks out of his head. You close your lips around his tip, sucking softly on it, eliciting a loud moan from Jihoon. With your jaw relaxed, you take him a little further into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you suck. What is entirely unexpected is the way your mouth seems to water around him. The excess spit makes it easier to slide him further into your mouth, cheeks hollowing as you start to slowly bob your head.

Jihoon pushes your hair back from your forehead, lips parted as breathy moans slip past them constantly. “Use your hand to get what you can’t fit in your mouth.” You do as he says, stroking the bigger half of his cock that isn’t inside your mouth. “You’re doing so good, baby. You’ve got almost half.” If anyone else was to tell you this, it may have seemed a bit condescending, but it’s Jihoon and you know he's being sincere in his praises. You moan around him softly, the vibration completely unexpected. It makes Jihoon buck his hips before he stops himself. “Fuck, sorry.” He pants, a shaky laugh following his apology.

Only after he praises you do you fully realize how fucking hard you are. You remove your other hand from his thigh to slot it inside your sweats, fingers sneaking under the hem of your boxes as you wrap your hand around your leaking cock. The relief is immediate, making you moan again around him. You go back to focusing on him, head bobbing a little faster, taking a little more until his tip is close to kissing the back of your throat. You quicken your own hand, squeezing once you get to your tip with each pump of your fist.

Jihoon doesn’t stop watching you, and it’s only when your eyes roll back slightly that he realizes the reason your hand left its place on his thigh. “Are you touching yourself, baby?” He asks, voice shaky. For some reason, he can’t seem to stabilize it. You do your best to nod as you read the tip of his cock as you bob your head. His grip on your hair tightens again as he moans out a string of explicits.

You take too much on the way down, Jihoon’s tip hitting the back of your throat, and you gag hard, pulling all the way off his cock. Jihoon immediately rubs your cheek with his thumb, wiping at the small tears that had gathered in your eyes at the force of your gag reflex activating. “Careful, baby. Don’t get too ahead of yourself.” You laugh weakly, panting softly.

“Sorry. I didn’t think that would be so aggressive. I’m okay.” You reassure him, voice a little scratchy and face burning in embarrassment. He smiles, a little fucked out and weak as he wipes away the few tears left in your eyes.

“Don’t be sorry. It happens.” He coos, eyes softening at the flush spreading over your face. You take a few seconds to catch your breath before your mouth is back around his cock, a new sense of determination in your movements as a way to redeem yourself from that embarrassment. Jihoon’s eyes roll back in his head again, more soft moans and whimpers slipping past his lips as he realizes how loud he's being.

You keep up this pace, fist tightening around your own cock as you stroke the rest of his. Jihoon moans lowly. “Fuck, just like that. Just like that, baby.” He hisses through his teeth, eyes shut tight as he resists the urge to fuck himself into your mouth. “Shit, I'm close.” His fist in your hair goes to pull you off of him so he can finish, but you keep sucking, suddenly feeling the need to swallow his load.

He swears again, thighs shaking as he tries to push his orgasm away for a few more seconds to give you time to pull off. When you don't, his fist in your hair pulls you down onto him. His free hand curls into the fabric of his sweater, gripping it harshly as he tugs at it. His hips jerk slightly, cock twitching in your mouth as the first drops of his orgasm hit your tongue. He cums into your mouth, high whines and moans slipping past his lips as his eyes screw shut. You keep sucking him through it, swallowing his load as it fills your mouth. Jihoon cums hard, cock twitching as you suck out every last drop.

When he’s finished, you pull off, dropping your hand from his cock. You sit on your knees, giving him time to calm down from his high. Now with nothing else to focus on, your movements on your own cock quicken. With your lip between your teeth, you bite back the shame bubbling in your stomach from being on your knees, jerking yourself off in front of another man who’s dick you just sucked and ass you just tongue fucked.

Jihoon bounces back quickly, leaning forward to pull you up to the couch. You let him guide you up and onto the couch, before he’s slipping off the couch himself, sweater falling down to barely cover his ass as he falls to his knees. Wordlessly, his hands grab at your sweats, one hand rubbing your erection over the fabric. “You don’t have to.” You breathe out, though the way your hips jolt is a direct contradiction to your statement.

Jihoon shakes his head softly. “Wan’ to.” His eyes zero in on the massive bulge in front of him, and he starts to pull your sweats down, boxers caught under his fingers to go with them. You lift your hips to help him out, cock slapping your stomach as it springs free.

Jihoon’s jaw visibly drops at the sight of your cock out in the open. He spits in his hand, the sound lewd and unashamed. Jihoon wraps it around your head, squeezing softly. You watch him intently.

Generally speaking, you’ve never really paid attention to someone’s hand on your cock. That was before Jihoon, apparently, because you can’t seem to pull your eyes away from the way his slender fingers look wrapped around your thick, painfully hard, cock. His knuckles are blushed, nails perfectly trimmed, group ring glistening in the dim light of the television which has paused from the episode ending, and his spit. He gives you a few pumps before he takes you into his mouth.

Jihoon gets about halfway before he pulls back up, tongue swirling around your head before he’s on his way back down, taking you even further. He does it again, this time opening his throat to take you deeper. You moan lowly at the tightness of his throat, hand finding its place in his long, dark hair. You push his bangs back, which are overgrown and in his eyes.

Jihoon’s plush lips look so full with your cock in between them, red from kissing him and biting them to silence his moans. His big eyes are focused on you, and if there was anything that got you going, it was eye contact. He swirls his tongue around your tip again, cheeks hollowing on the way down before he takes you into his throat, all the way from tip to base.

Your other hand finds his head, brushing back the other side of his hair, before you close your eyes and buck your hips up, swearing quietly. Your cock twitches as Jihoon tightens his throat around you. You hold his head there, leaving your cock all the way down his throat. “Fuck, angel, I’m gonna cum.” You slur, head falling back into the couch as your cock twitches again, the first drops of your orgasm sliding down his throat.

Jihoon resumes bobbing his head, now not pulling all the way off like he was doing before. Another deep moan slips past your lips before your orgasm washes over you like a hot tidal wave. It’s probably the hardest you’ve cum in a long time, a result of the most mind blowing head you’ve probably ever received. Jihoon pulls back, getting your cock out of his throat to taste your release. He keeps sucking, milking your cock dry before he swallows every last drop.

Jihoon pulls his mouth off your cock with a lewd, wet pop. He finds his boxers on the floor, slipping them back on before he sits beside you on the couch. Your face is red and burning with your orgasm, but also with a little shame. You quickly lean over to pull your sweatpants and boxers back up, avoiding eye contact with Jihoon at all costs. “Talk to me. What’s going on right now?” Jihoon’s voice is soft, careful as if you’re a shattered glass only hanging on by the force of gravity.

“Guilt, mostly. A little shame. Nothing you've done; I’m just processing.” Jihoon nods carefully, whole body tense at the way your voice is shaking, like you might be close to tears. You can feel that familiar knot grow in your throat, and you might actually cry.

“C’mon, it’s late. Let's go to bed.” Jihoon ushers, grabbing your hand to pull you up off the couch. You follow him silently, television forgotten as he leads you down the hall to your bedrooms.

You pull away from him as you reach your room, but his grip on your hand tightens. “Wh–” You sputter, before he interjects swiftly.

“You just went through something that’s gonna be really rough to acknowledge later. I’m not gonna let you do that alone; you’re staying with me tonight. Unless you really do want to be alone.” Jihoon’s thumb rubs a soothing circle into the back of your hand, and you know he’s right. You let him pull you into his bedroom, let him pull the covers back on his bed, let him pull you under the covers with him. You watch him roll over to turn the lamp off before he’s curling himself into your chest, hand finding the side of your neck to rub your nape softly in reassurance.

It’s unspoken, the comfort he’s giving you right now. You lean forward to press a kiss to his lips as a thank you for understanding just how confusing things are, how jumbled your thoughts are right now. “I’m sorry. Things feel kinda funky inside my head right now, but I think I’m okay.” You kiss him again, arm wrapping around his waist.

“I wish I could help more.” He sighs, reconnecting your lips after his statement. “Do you feel any regret?” He asks hesitantly.

It’s your turn to kiss him again. “Regret? No, no. I think I’m just reevaluating a lot of things right now.” Another soft kiss. “Scared at how much I actually enjoyed that, yes.” Another one.

“You did really well.” Another. “Scared the shit out of me when you gagged though.” Jihoon laughs softly, fatigue starting to set in. You kiss him again as a small apology for scaring him.

“You think so?” You ask, suddenly embarrassed at his praises. Another kiss.

“You did good.” Jihoon delivers a weak, playful punch to your chest, before he kisses you again.

“I can’t fucking believe you deep throated me.” You laugh quietly, slightly exasperated as you recall the way he had you cumming in mere minutes. You kiss him softly.

“I don’t really have a gag reflex.” He giggles softly, yawning. Another kiss. The conversation continues like this, alternating between words and kisses until both of you are too tired to do either. As Jihoon’s breathing evens out, you feel your chest tighten in a way it never has before. He nuzzles his face into your chest softly, hair pushing its way into your face. His shampoo overwhelms your senses and the tightening gets worse.

This, objectively, changes everything. You can’t exactly place the tightness, but it’s familiar in the same way Jihoon is when you come home to him every night. Maybe it’s the warmth of your orgasm, or maybe it’s the warmth of Jihoon himself as you hold him in your arms as he sleeps. Whatever it is, it’s an issue for the morning. You’re too tired to pinpoint it, and so you let yourself succumb to it, drifting off surrounded by overwhelming safety.

a/n: yes this is named after a hozier song. i've seen/am seeing him twice in the last year, once last tour once this tour (in two different cities). he is the epitome of gay yearning so... yeah. part two?? part three??? part four??? i have so many thoughts abt this anon ask that im considering making it a full series maybe.

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kyleeissilly · 10 months ago

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𝒋𝒐𝒉𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒆 𝒈𝒖𝒊𝒍𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒕 𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾 𝒂𝒍𝒑𝒉𝒂𝒃𝒆𝒕

𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝒂 𝒍𝒊𝒍 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕𝒕𝒚

sorry if this is shit i was high while writing this ngl..

༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨*:·.༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨*:·.༻¨:·..·:¨༺

A- Aftercare

(what their like after sex)

Johnnies definitely tired after but will run u two a warm shower/bath and help you clean yourself up if your too tired.

wants to make sure u feel loved and cared for !!!

B-Body Parts

(Their favorite body part of their partners and of their own)

i feel like his fav body part of yours is your waist just because he can hold it and he can use it to pull you closer to him,

his fav body part of his is probably like his hands just because of how many photos he takes with his hands infront of his face

C-Cum

(anything to do with cum)

would rather finish inside of you but also rlly likes finishing on your stomach.

D-Dirty Secret

(self explanatory)

honestly is a little bit of a sub sometimes,

E-Experience

(how experienced are they?)

he rlly knows how to use his tongue and loves to eat you out. he knows hes good at it to..

F-Favorite position

(very self explanatory)

Definitely spooning. man loves cuddling in general so whats better than cuddling and sex?

G-Goofy

(Are they more goofy or serious during the act?)

will prob make lil jokes when its appropriate but other than that hes more serious.

H-Hair

(how well groomed? does the carpet match the drapes?)

he usually trims it a little just to make it look neat. and the carpet does not match the drapes since hes a natural blonde.

I-Intimacy

(how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

hes a little awkward the first time you guys did it but now hes definitely a romantic.

J-Jack off

(masturbation headcannon)

jerks off 2-4 times a week because he gets wayyy to nervous to ask and is afraid hes gonna make u uncomfy

K-Kink

(one or more of their kinks)

LOVESSSS to overstimulate you until ur begging him to stop,

neck kissing.... self explanatory..

L-Location

(where he likes to do it)

honestly doesnt like doing it in even semi-public places just because of the risk factor but rlly likes in the bedroom or kitchen sex..

M-Motivation

(what turns them on)

neck kissesss !!!! he LOVESSS them. you give even a SMALL peck on his neck and hes all over you.

N-No

(something he wont do)

degrading. like hes fine with the tame shit but he doesnt want to say something rlly rude to you or hurtful even if you want him to. it makes him feel like a douche.

Oral

(preference in giving or recieving, skill, etc)

hes mastered the art of eating you out. you dont even gotta say nun and hes already got ur legs over his shoulders. he wont deny a blowjob tho,

P-Pace

(how fast or slow they go during)

he will start off gentle to let you adjust to him but once hes about to finish hes definitely speeding up

Q-Quickie

(their opinion on quickies)

Not a big fan of it at all but wont say no. he wants to make sure you feel loved and you know that hes not just using u as a hookup.

R-Risk

(are they down to experiment and try new things? do they take risks when their horny?)

would be down to try new things with you depending on how extreme. he thinks trying new things with you creates a stronger relationship and helps figure out what the other person likes.

S-Stamina

(how many rounds can they go? how long do they last?)

he can go around 2-3 rounds before getting tired but either way he will always make sure you finish.

T-Toys

(do they own them? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

owns a fleshlight but thats it. If you wanted him to use toys on you he would definitely be willing to explore that interest with you.

U-Unfair

(do they tease? if so, how much?)

he doesnt tease you that much but if he wants to then he will.

V-Volume

(how loud are they? what sound do they make)

its mostly muffles grunts or whimpers but when hes close he gets louder.

W-Wild Card

(random headcannon)

loves going shopping with you and watching you try on clothes. also adores when you see something and immediately say smth like "youd look so good in this," to him.

X- X-Ray

(whats going on under their clothes?)

6.7 inches, neat, and slightly curved

Y-Yearning

(how high is their sex drive?)

2-3 times a week but will definitely do it more if you wanted it.

Z-Zzz

(how long does it take for them to fall asleep after?)

hes exhausted afterwards but needs to make sure your alright and comfortable before falling asleep with his arms wrapped around ur waist.

#johnnie guilbert smut #johnnie guilbert #jake and johnnie #the tinas #latina

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smrtnik07 · 7 months ago

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librarians redesigned!!! by me!!! :)

the designs are free to use, i used this as a character design exercise for myself while recovering from carpal tunnel issues! read more for all the individual designs + me ranting :*

first off roland!! i included an angelica in here, i designed her before him, shes very triangular to me.. maybe a bit more messed up than roland tells us about, he is a biased narrator afterall. anyways i wanted his design to match hers nicely, so hes like a rounded square type of guy... i think projmoon designed him to be Just A Guy intentionally, so i played into it. overall the least interesting design of the bunch imo. its on purpose :)

angela !!! my baby :) an important thing here is her bangs. i dont want her hair to be able to recover from however many years she spent with the hard middle part in lobcorp, i think its cute to incorporate it still. swoopy, fluffy hair for her! and the clothes are just a bit more casual idk the librarian uniforms were kinda boring and stiff to me, as much as it does go with her character.. if u wanna be human u gotta experience the joy of sweatpants or whatever. also i didnt add color but i dont want her to be fully white<3 or fully clear skinned.. give her sunspots on her face. she finally gets to experience sun. :)

guess ill go in order of appearance lol. malkuth! whats the headband for if it doesnt keep anything out of her face!! since shes a bit more active than some of her colleagues, i also gave her a ponytail(its also for the silhouette...) also gave her some chubbier thighs.. also maybe a butler-esque coat, at least to me; i just made it a bit more form fitting than the original. playing into her personality or whatever. shes cute.. remember to take deep breaths!!

yesod!! i want to play into the skin issues a bit more, i still removed his gloves but i gave him a poncho, not just for the square silhouette im trying to build but for more coverage. also emo hair over eyes was funny. also wide flare pants for you, boy. just very square and put together in general

hod! this ones my favorite (i even cared enough to give her a pattern on that skirt!!) it was kinda bugging me how in the artbook i couldnt tell who was writing because hod's, malkuth's, and tiphereth's colors are so similar. so hod is pink now, and malkuth a bit more orange. i kinda went for a romantic poet thing here, dunno how much that worked out, but i think out of everyone you can tell shes the literature girl. gave her pigtails !! theyre cute :> also since i removed the coat decoration off of angela, i gave part of it to hod in the bottom of her coat :). cute and round!

netzach is a very strange man to me.. ellipse shape and loose fitting clothes for u. if i saw him irl i wouldnt approach him. not to say i dont like him as a character, i love him, but i want him to look like a depressed guy who would pick up art as a hobby to distract himself and it works. bro is just surviving out there. also gave him comfy clothes to make the surviving easier, down to the shoes and wide, id assume non-denim pants - maybe cotton? maybe sweatpants that dont fit around the ankle? who knows.

tiphereth!! since she's like the teen girl of the group i gave her a skater dress, converse, and a tied coat around her waist.. like how i used to wear as a teen when i was being a hater and recovering from a death in the family that changed my entire life (im still a teen ... 9 more days till im 20 as of posting this). also gave her fishnets i think she would like that. i imagine she would get headaches bc of those dumb braids on her head<3 or maybe bc her coworkers are kinda dumb<3

gebura :) round face, reverse triangle shaped body.. like a true butch lesbian stereotype.. i decided a leather jacket, docs and pants i see metalheads wear would fit her! red leather jacket, of course. also gave her spiky hair just like projmoon did<3 my favorite detail here are the eyebrows, i think their shape is rlly neat! nvm i think its just that gebura is rlly neat. anyways the eyebrows fit her

chesed my boy.. idk i just saw him and hit him with the transmasc beam and gave him , as the kids say, wh0re eyes. i wanted him to have rounder hips and just be round in general. turtleneck and cardigan combo also, i think he would like wearing that. also somewhat curlier hair, or at least wavy would do him well! and a tote bag, i dont doubt that he would go out to read in coffee shops if he could - so he gets a tote bag to carry his sociology books. i want him to look like he would give the warmest, comfiest hugs and be friend shaped

binah!! this one was the most challenging, trying to find the right place for the colors - to not use too little or too much yellow. i still dont think i got it right but this is as close as im getting. long face, long nose, siren-ish eyes.. messed up in the head bird lady that speaks like hannibal! i also dont think a dress really suits her so i opted for wide pants and a fancy black button up .. maybe angela styled her, who knows. also black fingertips which is a trait i like to give the arbiters (including an oc).. just my own little consistency thing i like to do :)

hi grandpa! ok for hokma i dont think the changes are that big? i gave him O shaped legs and his sword thing i turned into a walking cane, gave him a vest (didnt want to opt for a corset but i think he would enjoy the back support for proper posture) . also gave him a mild gradient from darker gray to lighter gray, since he IS the gray part of the ABC trio. gave him salt and pepper hair and an older face. forgot to draw it, but i wanted to give him a silicone tip for the sword so it doesnt dull out, which he can take off when recieving guests

honorary mention to go along with the angelica i mentioned with roland, i mildly changed up her twin(k) brother. i gave argalia and angie the same hair but mirrored, his a bit more curly and hers a bit more spikey, his face a bit more edgy, hers a bit rounder and kinder. not much else to say here, i liked his design as is, but wanted to add him here :)

#library of ruina #project moon #art i made #big project done wooo ! :) im proud of myself for setting a goal and sticking to it. are you proud of me. tell me youre proud of me

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hobbylobbyy · 8 months ago

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Okay! How about a Lucifer x male (or gn if you’re more comfortable) reader in a platonic fic? Reader is like a servant who helps Lucifer through depresso days

A/N: This sounds like a really nice friendship dynamic, I’m rlly happy I get to write it!

Also btw you’re an imp for the sake of not knowing what a duck is

Coping Methods

Summary: It’s been a few months since Lilith left Lucifer and he’s been taking it about as well as you think he would. He can barely get out of bed until you manage to coax him into a fun activity to ease his mind.

Platonic Lucifer x Male!Reader

Nobody expected Lilith to leave. Maybe that’s what made it worse when she did.

She didn’t leave anything behind either, not her clothes, not her shoes, not even a single letter.

Every being in that castle fell into a deep depression, it just felt so gloomy without her there. Though, it hit the Morningstar’s the hardest.

Charlie had moved out nearly a month after Lilith’s disappearance, claiming she wanted to find herself and have her own independence rather than rely on her father for the rest of her life.

Lucifer, however, barely even left the castle, let alone his own room. Very few people were allowed near him at the time, only his personal servants, and you just happened to be one of them.

Today was one of those days where Lucifer couldn’t even bring himself to get out of bed, so you found yourself outside his door, hesitating to knock.

You couldn’t deny that you were terrified, but you had to make sure the king was okay, it was your duty as one of his personal servants.

You took a moment to collect yourself before knocking a few times.

It took a moment before he answered, “Who is it..?” The way he sounded so fragile almost broke apart of you, not once in your thousands of years of working for him have you heard him sound so vulnerable.

“It’s me, sir.” You replied, twiddling with your thumbs.

The door creaked open with a blur of golden magic, no doubt his own.

You stepped in and closed the door behind you, knowing that he’d prefer if nobody saw him in this state.

“Why are you here?” He asked, not looking at you as he curled into a ball on his humongous bed.

“Nobody has seen or heard from you all day, sir,” You started, making your way over to the edge of his bed but not daring to step any closer, both out of respect for him and fear for your safety, “We needed to know that you were still alive.”

“Alright, well, you’ve seen it now, haven’t you?” He asked rhetorically, “Just leave and take the day off for all I care, I-I just want to sit here for a little bit.”

“Sir..” You started, keeping your voice firm, “As your servant, I respect all your wishes, but as your friend… I will have to deny you this one.”

Before he could respond, you continued going, “In fact, I’m going to have to request that you stand up for me” you knew you were definitely going to get in trouble for this, whether by him or by one of your superiors.

“A-Are you trying to command the king of hell?” He asked, “You are nothing but my servant, I.. I don’t have many friends right now..”

You weren’t going to stop so soon though, your persistence was what got you this job in the first place, “Sir, I’m not trying to command you, I am just asking that you at least sit up and look at me”

It took him a second but he groaned in defeat as if he was a small child. He sat up, letting you see just how much he’d been crying. His hair which was usually neat was now a mess of curls and his face seemed redder than usual.

“I’ve done what you asked.. Is this all you wanted?” He asked.

“No, I actually wanted to request that you.. Uhm…” You had to think of an excuse for what you wanted to do first, “Could you accompany me to your workshop for a moment..? This is the only time I’ll ask you to do this, I just… N-Need to know where you’d like everything to go so I can clean!”

You commended yourself for being quick to think of an excuse, you knew how much the king liked his neatness.

“…There’s no need to clean it” Well, that stunned you.

“S-Sir?” You stuttered, “It definitely needs to be cleaned, just.. please?”

“I already know where everything is, just leave it be” Lucifer waved his hand dismissively before flopping back onto his bed, gripping a nearby pillow.

Well this won’t do. You needed him to get out of his bed. You needed him to actually do something.

“Sir, please, just accompany me to the workshop and I’ll leave you alone” You pleaded.

He sat still for a moment before shifting his head towards you, “…You’ll leave me alone for the rest of the week if I accompany you, do you hear me..?”

You nodded enthusiastically, “Yes sir! I-I can totally do that!” Not only did it give you an excuse to just do nothing for the rest of the week, your plan might actually work.

“Alright, just let me get ready first” He yawned as he sat up and threw his legs over the edge of the bed.

You quickly left the room for his privacy, as much as you loved your gracious king, you didn’t love him that much.

He left the room almost immediately, not having bothered to clean up his hair or the bags under his eyes. He knew that nobody in their right mind would point it out anyway.

“Just so you know.. I’m going to leave as soon as you’re done in there” Lucifer said.

“That’s alright with me, sir,” You flash a grin, “I’m just glad you got out of that messy room of yours”

“Watch it.” He rolls his eyes.

You chuckle softly as you approach his workshop, but you’re surprised once you open its doors.

The workshop that was usually a mess with his inventions and dreams and even dioramas of his theme park was now barren, only holding the pictures on the walls and his work bench.

“Wow, would you look at that..” Lucifer started, “Guess you don’t need me anymore, I mean, no mess to clean up!”

But you’re not gonna let him off the hook so easily.

“Uh, sir?” You smirked, “Could you at least spare me one request before I stop bothering you for the week?”

Lucifer groaned childishly, obviously not wanting to spend another moment out of the bed that he once shared with his love.

“Fine, fine, I guess it’s the least I could do since you so desperately wanted me over here” He conceded, walking with you to his workbench.

“So, what do you want?” He asked.

You grinned before pulling out some supplies from your pockets, “So, you know how made that thing on Earth before you fell? What was it called… Cuck..? I-I don’t know, but it made that quacking noise”

“A duck?” Lucifer cut you off.

“Ah, precisely!” You nodded.

“What.. What does that have anything to do with this?” He asked.

“Well, Mr. Lucifer, my request is that..” You paused for dramatic effect, “You recreate that! I wanna see what it looks like, and you seem to have pride in the fact that you made them, so maybe it’ll make you feel better!”

Lucifer paused for a moment before laughing. It might’ve been aimed at you rather than with you, but you’d gotten him to laugh at least.

“A-I’m sorry- Is that really all that you want me to do? Make a duck?” He said as the laughter died down.

“Yup! That’s what I want!” You nodded, making him chuckle once more.

“Alright, alright, fine” He sighed, “I’ll make you a duck, but then you let me wallow in self-pity, mkay?”

“Sounds fair!” You responded.

He didn’t say anything back to you as he started to work. You could see sparks flying as he melded metal together, shaping it into the form of a small creature.

“Pass me my yellow paint, would you?” He asked, pointing in the direction of his paints.

You hummed, grabbing his yellow paint for him and setting it down next to him on the table.

“Oh, and the black paint too” He said.

You huffed, “Couldn’t have told me that while I was getting the yellow?” But you got it for him regardless, wrapping your tail around it and ignoring the cold paint as it splashed on you when you brought it over.

He didn’t respond, too focused on painting it perfectly.

Then, the sparks and painting stopped, he smiled softly at his little creation.

“Here it is,” He said, picking it up with gentle hands, “This is what a duck looks like”

You looked at it in awe. It looked so.. cute. It looked so different from all the life in Hell, like it didn’t pose any threats at all.

You took a moment before nodding, “Alright, that’s uh… All I wanted” you smiled before standing up.

“I’ll lead you back to your room and you won’t have to worry about me for the rest of the week” You continued to speak before he cut you off.

“Actually…” He said, “Stay, I think I might need your help grabbing supplies for me while I make some more of these”

You took a moment to process what he said before your eyes lit up with excitement, “Really?!” You had actually been successful in getting the king to enjoy something!

“Really” He chuckled.

A/N: I hope this lived up to your expectations. I noticed too late that the reader doesn’t really have a gender specified but I guess that just means you can depict them however you want to!

Look at him :)

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #lucifer #hazbin fandom #hazbin fanfic #hazbin hotel spoilers #lucifer magne #lucifer x reader #Lucifer platonic #platonic #platonic Lucifer

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lewkwoodnco · 1 year ago

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Hello! I would like to request Lockwood x Fem!Reader best friends to lovers based on gold rush <3

Gold Rush - Lockwood x Reader

A/N: I’ve always looked at gold rush as an enemies to lovers song so this was rlly interesting!!! Will update wc once I wake up 😴😴 (2.8k!)

It was the morning after one of the most tiring cases Lockwood & Co. had had in a while. Beyond the sheer size of the mansion, there seemed to be a new kind of Type Two waiting for them in every room. It was the type of case that left you too tired to complain at the end, but for whom the frustration carried over to the next morning.

“I’m charging them double at least. It’s one thing to bend the truth - they used it as a skipping rope!”

The four of them were in the kitchen, having breakfast. When she had come down, there was only George sipping his tea in the one lit corner of the kitchen. Lockwood was usually the first one up, so his absence was testament to his exhaustion. She had sighed, not realising that she had buttered some toast for him until she was done. George looked suspiciously invested in the newspaper. “And- oh, you’re too sweet, Y/N.”

Lockwood had found the plate of toast, which she had hoped would disappear. He shifted behind her, making some tea, absent-mindedly grazing her head with his fingers as he walked past. Her grip on the cereal box tightened, and she raised it, reading the ingredients with newfound interest. She swallowed, feeling her cheeks burn behind the cereal box, hoping no one would notice. Lockwood certainly didn’t, because he had moved on to that night’s Fittes gala, but Lucy’s gaze lingered on her a bit too long for her to be fully in the clear.

When she felt that she had calmed down enough, she lowered the cereal box, her eye instantly drawn to Lockwood’s limp yet perfectly neat hair, each strand naturally settled in place. Even when most relaxed, there was something artificially manufactured in every wave in his hair, every crease of his face, but in a way that didn’t aggravate but enticed: ambrosia incarnate.

George made some intimation about heading tor the Archives to finish up the research on their next job, and purpose rushed back into Lockwood, broken out of his early-morning sluggishness. Lucy left for more rapier practice as well, but George hung back before leaving. He stared at her, which was normal George behaviour, yet a part of her felt compelled to justify her earlier preoccupation with the cereal box. It was so redundant - it wasn’t like he could read her thoughts (though sometimes she would suddenly remember how smart he truly was and how piercing his gaze could be, at which she would decide to try to not take any chances; it was only a matter of time), and even if he could, there was nothing noteworthy. Just…perfectly normal thoughts about her perfectly normal boss.

“Did you know…that Froot Loops don’t actually have different flavours?”

“Do you know that you’re eating pure sugar?”

“…you’re no fun.”

————————————————————————

Every year, they were always invited to the same gala hosted by the same Fittes agency, yet the preceding afternoon was almost always as stressful as any ghost-hunting job. Scarves hung on every surface by Lucy, who never wore any of them, shirts thrown down the stairwell as Lockwood dramatically proclaimed that none of his shirts would do, and George yelling at everyone to quit making so much noise until Lucy grew sentient enough to wrestle him into something semi-formal.

This year was no different. The four of them flitted from room to room like moths, contributing to more than one clumsy collision. Now, she wandered out of the attic into the hallway forlornly, clutching two different shoes. She liked fancy galas as much as the next person, but sometimes it felt overwhelming to get ready for them. “I’m not sure if I should come.”

“No!” That was Lockwood, rifling through a box of multi coloured cloths, somehow still pristine even when half-dressed. “You have to come. Lucy and George are too morally upright to gossip. I’ll be bored to tears without you.” Her heart stupidly fluttered, the corners of her mouth twitching despite herself as she watched him drape a bow tie around his neck. But of course, Lockwood wasn’t Lockwood if he didn’t have his signature ability to put his foot in his mouth.

“Besides, all of Fittes will be there, all of Rotwell will be there. We all need to go.”

“Of course.” Her harsh tone made Lockwood pause his flurry of activity, looking as though he wanted to fix what he had said. But he hesitated too long and now Lucy was barreling down the corridor, trying to find her boots, and the two of them awkwardly shifted away. She hadn’t meant to sound so bitter. What did she even have to be bitter about?

Before either of them could give it any more thought, they heard a dramatic gasp from George’s room, where they found Lucy blackmailing him into coming by holding one of his dusty old books hostage. George looked like he was about to burst a blood vessel. But the blackmail worked, not that George let Lucy off the hook for the rest of the night, grumbling and bemoaning the (temporary) loss of his beloved friend. Other than that, they reached without much fuss, and Lockwood was quick to get to business.

“How about we do some networking?”

“What, with other agencies?”

“Connections couldn’t hurt.”

George shared a knowing glance with Lucy, but it was so brief that it was quickly forgotten, especially in light of his comment. “That’s just as well. I spy a couple Fittes agents who wouldn’t seem to mind, er, connecting with Lockwood.”

Lockwood frowned, but she didn’t pay attention long enough to see his full reaction. George had nodded towards this cluster (really, only three of them) of Fittes agents who seemed to have a particularly high propensity for giggling. They huddled even closer together when the four of them looked over, and they began furiously whispering into each other ears, eyes still intent on Lockwood. She hadn’t been much different when she had first joined the agency, and it certainly was amusing how oblivious he was to how ridiculously attractive he was, only showing a hint of awareness whenever he turned on the charm for particularly difficult clients. So polished, so shiny, so cool above the hot struggles of the ordinary folk he surrounded himself with, breezing through life. She would have resented him if he weren’t so darling.

Every time he wandered a bit too close to her, she braced herself for his touch. Because that was definitely what she was doing: bracing herself. Not like she wanted him to touch her or anything. And she definitely wasn’t repeatedly dying a slow and painful death as she replayed his brush at breakfast. And of course, Lockwood was too engrossed in his conversation with some stuffy bigwig to notice anything. He was gesturing around them with the air of someone far richer than he already was.

“We operate differently at Lockwood and Co. Glamour and glitz has its place, but personally we might have gone for something more…elegant. More…tasteful, perhaps.”

She snorted into her champagne a little more aggressively that she had intended. For someone so beautiful, Lockwood could be so full of shit sometimes. She smiled apologetically, and Lockwood helped fix things with that smooth laugh of his, but the disconcerted look in his eye told her he wasn’t going to forget about that anytime soon. Eventually, the bigwig needed to talk to another bigwig, so they excused themselves and turned to hunt for their next prey.

“What was that?”

“Oh, please, like I’m just supposed to stand and watch you and lie that blatantly. You’d sell your soul to have a gala as big as this tied to your name. You were so convincing, it’s almost impressive.”

“Thank you.”

“I said ‘almost.’”

He swooped down to the shell of her ear. “Good enough for me.” She frantically stamped out the butterflies in her stomach. Stupid Lockwood and his stupid warm breath tickling her ear and his stupid devastatingly appealing indifference towards morality. She pulled away from his magnetic field, thoughts tangled in her irritation.

“Y/N,” she stopped fuming long enough to realise Lockwood had dragged her to a quieter part of the party, but his words still bounced off her numb mind inconsequentially. “Are you alright? Was it-“ he grimaced uncomfortably. “Was it what I said back home? Because I didn’t-“

She was vaguely aware of her reaching out and holding his hand, trying to find the right words. The warmth of his hand anchored her even as she was drowning in it. It was dangerous, having him so close with a mind so willing to delve into nonsense. She could see herself tiptoeing out of his room, on wooden floors she only knew of through creaks far too late at night, her sweater dangling on the doorknob-

All of a sudden, he was gold under her touch. Gleaming and perfect, perfectly solid and assured as the riches that entrenched on him now consumed him: the perfect sculpture. And yet his eyes still hummed with the unmistakeable fervour of life, of spirit, of the adventure he so recklessly indulged himself in. She was slowing her breath, he was pulling her under, and she was dizzy with it, dizzy with him. It wasn’t normal, but they were never normal. Lockwood would beckon, and she would succumb, and each time common sense caught up to her just a little bit later than the last time, leaving her dangerously close to diving into the whirlpool that was Lockwood, inhibitions forgotten.

But then the music swelled, and laughter grated on her ears, and she remembered where she was. She let go of his hand almost spitefully, and walked away, ignoring his attempts to get her to stop. It was all so unnecessary and so saddening.

They left soon after, the can uncharacteristically quiet as two out of the four members tried to beat their hearts into submission. As they hung up their coats near the front door, Lockwood paused, and she was sure he was going to say something, but then the moment passed again and she was left climbing the stairs frustrated and wholly dissatisfied.

She kept the door to the attic a crack open, watching as much as she could of Lockwood drifting to the library, not looking away until she heard the soft click of the door. She closed her eyes, burning every memory and image of him into her retinas. Flashes of Lockwood danced like bright spots as she undressed: the bow tie left desolate around his neck, the champagne that blended in with his skin under the golden lights, the unscrupulous charisma that radiated off his too-bright smile…it was unhealthy how drugged she felt on the high that was Lockwood. But tonight had been too real, too visceral: she couldn’t bear dreaming about him for another second.

It was only twenty-four hours ago that she had been wandering near the coast with him while looking for the Source. The air was dizzy with salt and Lockwood’s eyes danced a bit too merrily for either of them to feel too burdened by the hunt for the Source. It was just as well that Lucy and George had found it, because she and Lockwood were utterly useless, getting drunk of each other’s laughter, stumbling in the shifting sand and gravel. She wondered if he thought about that night the way she did, if his breath caught too as he was swept up in the memory of the innocence they shared, blazing as they brazenly ambled foolishly for no one’s eyes but the moon’s and the seas’ who witnessed a love as pure as theirs for the first and last time.

————————————————————————

She woke up feeling painfully brittle from the previous night. She slept restlessly, too preoccupied to wade through her thoughts with much precision, until she finally heard enough movement downstairs. Lockwood was surprisingly already fully dressed, staring a hole into the wall with the case file of their next job in front of him. But his ironed clothes were jarring rather than refreshing, especially when contrasted against the bruises under his eyes and his translucent skin. Good. He was too disarming when he was well-rested anyway. All her resentment towards him dissolved at the sight of a stack of meticulously buttered toast and cup of tea: an Anthony Lockwood peace offering if she ever saw one. It made her want to cry, but it wasn’t the time for it, so she settled for a gnawing in her stomach.

From the boys’ stilted conversation, she gathered that Lockwood had already been to the site that morning and there was clearly something about it that their clients weren’t telling them. From the look she shared with George as they started discussing their clients’ possible secrets, it was clear that he too was slightly troubled. It wasn’t like Lockwood to go out for walks alone, especially before dawn. She nearly upset the milk jug when her heart swooped as she thought about Lockwood staying up alone, slowly bleeding into the shadows of the house that threatened to inhale him. It made her feel funny.

“Hm?” Lockwood turned, tuning back in only at the tail end of the conversation. She hated how adorable his half-confused expression was and how it made her forget how to breathe. She scoffed, leaving her toast but begrudgingly taking her tea with her, mumbling something about Anna Karenina. She was properly put off her breakfast. As if lingering in the edges of her mind wasn’t enough, he just had to disrupt her appetite too.

“Hey.” He had found her hiding away on the floor of the library between some bookshelves. Not that she was actively avoiding him.

“Hey.” Sleep deprivation wasn’t a good look on anyone, but Lockwood still managed to pull it off. Still, he looked miles more unkempt like this than in a regular, cotton shirt.

He uselessly gestured towards the plate, looking less than the perfect cool he typically maintained. “I brought your toast.”

“I’m fine with my tea, thanks.” She fixed her eyes back onto her book, painfully aware of him watching her. He sighed and sat down in front of her.

“I know you felt it too, last night. I don’t know why you’re mad at me when you’re the one going around lying through your teeth.” She snapped her book close. Enough was enough.

“Because we’ll never be anything more. You’re this…this craze, this bug that’s infected everyone that’s slowly sucking the life out of me, you…you hedonistic disease. You’ll hold my hand and brush your fingers against my head but you’ll never kiss me. And why would you?” She nudged her tea further behind; she couldn’t tolerate even glancing at it. It reminded her of the waves that teased their soles, brimming with awe, a memory that was steadily sinking into the grey of her unpleasantly cold tea. “You have so much more, so much better to choose from. Everybody wants you.”

“Who cares about everyone else?”

“I care! Normal people care! How can you expect me to just stand here, knowing that I will never be good enough for someone like you?”

He looked so genuinely lost that she almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know what it means. Someone as iridescent, and perfect as you.” She spat out that word with disgust. If she weren’t so upset, he would have made some stupid quip about her finding him perfect, but that was a bone to pick for another time. He reached out, holding her hand to his chest.

“Y/N…no one could be more perfect than you.”

She snatched her hand back. Now he was just mocking her. “Don’t! Don’t say that when it isn’t true.”

“But it is!”

“Anthony Lockwood, you are made of fibs, half-truths and tall tales. You bend the truth! You bend, and you bend and you bend until you snap me right in half.”

She was crying by this point. God, could she be more embarrassing? Lockwood shuffled towards her, wrapping an arm around her and speaking into her hair. The exact same spot his fingers had brushed and ignited this chain sequence of events.

“You’re right. I’m a vagabond. A no-good…charlatan. But,” he adjusted his head to look into her eyes, and now all she saw were faint tendrils of gold dust sprinkling in his irises. “I’m your charlatan. Don’t you think?”

And with eyes like those, how could she say no?

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