#the morning of i had the thought that maybe it was just an excuse… but then i also decided maybe i should trust a little more :’)

[sematarygirls]

🐞 ⊹ᡣ𐭩₊⋆ ─── rafe sees anxious!reader's tramp stamp for the first time

cw: suggestive but mostly fluff, angst if you squint

       It wasn't like you were hiding it or anything. You certainly weren't ashamed of the permanent ink artwork embedded into your lower back. In fact, you had loved it ever since you got it done.

The problem was that you were self-conscious about your body. You weren't big enough to be considered plus sized, but you weren't small enough to be considered ideal either. You were in a weird middle zone that left you feeling utterly undesirable and completely at war with your body, which led you to wearing a lot of high-rise pants and other articles of clothing that obscured your body—your lower back included.

You also met Rafe in the winter. How he, the hottest guy in Kildare and maybe even the entire world, found you of all people attractive aside, the weather meant that you were never in bikinis or cropped shirts and shorts around him.

Those things combined with the fact that you were too scared to have sex with him meant that you had never been in a position where he had been able to catch a glimpse of it, leaving your boyfriend completely in the dark to your tattoo.

Plus, you sort of forgot it was there. After it healed and there was no longer pain or that persistent, unfathomably uncomfortable itch to remind you that you had gotten your skin altered forever, it was out of sight, out of mind.

Those things combined with the fact that you were too scared to have sex with him meant that you had never been in a position where he had been able to catch a glimpse of it, leaving your boyfriend completely in the dark to your tattoo.

Until you finally decided to stop being a nervous wreck and spend the night at his house. It was going to be completely innocent, nothing more than some cuddling and a slightly awkward moment of realization the morning after as you felt morning wood pressing against you for the first time. You were inexperienced, to say the very least.

He offered you some sweatpants with a drawstring and a shirt for you to wear, and since you had dreamed of this since you were 13, you had obliged, trying not to seem to excited at the thought of being in his clothes, enveloped by his scent. It just seemed like something oddly intimate and domestic, something you longed for.

You pulled your pants off and pulled his sweatpants on, tying the drawstring, but the pants still hung a little loose on your hips. You turned your back to him, lifting your shirt off, and just as you started to slip his shirt on, you heard his voice, making you freeze.

"What the fuck is that?" He asked, his obscenity mixed with shock making the sentence come out much harsher and more jarring than he had intended. He wasn't as angry as his tone intended. In fact, he was really fucking turned on and incredibly curious. His sweet, shy little girlfriend was hiding a tattoo in the sexiest spot he could imagine.

"What?" You asked, quickly pulling his shirt down and turning to him, your eyes wide with worry. Your mind, adept at overthinking every micro expression and shift in tone, immediately started running with possibilities, most prominently, that he had seen something about your body that he didn't like.

"The tattoo," he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You didn't tell me you had a fuckin' tramp stamp."

"Oh," you replied softly, your blood rushing to your cheeks. Your mind immediately worried that he didn't like it, that maybe it would be a deal breaker or he'd think you were some kind of slut. "I-uh- I don't know..." You tried to explain yourself, stumbling over your words as your mouth struggled to catch up to your brain. "I guess I forgot about it," your excuse sounded pathetic even to your own ears as it left your lips, but you didn't have anything else to say, nothing that wasn't a string of apologies and pleas that he wouldn't leave you, anyway.

"You forgot you had a tattoo on your lower back?" He raised an eyebrow, sitting up on his bed and crossing his arms, his biceps bulging slightly. He didn't mean to sound like an asshole, but it was practically in his DNA. He was working on trying to be gentler with you, realizing when you needed him to be softer and when you liked him acting like sort of a dick, but working on were the operative words in that phrase. He wasn't quite there yet.

"It's just..." You struggled to find the words to explain. Rafe didn't have tattoos. He didn't know how easy it was to just forget that they were there. After a certain point, it just becomes a part of you that you're used to. You don't really think about it or perceive it as much as other people do. "I don't really see it because of where it is, so I- um- well, it's easy to forget that it's there... I guess?" You sounded completely unsure of yourself, to the point that you worried he might think you were lying, whether that was a valid concern or just your anxious brain trying to fuck with you, you weren't sure.

He leaned forward, saying nothing for a moment as his piercing blue eyes regarded you with a scrutinizing stare that made you feel like he could see right through you. You fiddled with the hem off his shirt, biting the inside of your cheek anxiously as your gaze darted around the room—you always overthought how much eye contact was the correct amount. "Turn around," he ordered after a moment, his voice low and gruff. "Let me see. Properly this time."

"What?" You asked, your eyes snapping to his and widening a fraction as you were caught off guard by his demand. You weren't entirely sure what you expected to be honest, maybe to be broken up with, or just chewed out for keeping a secret or getting such a tattoo in the first place, but for some reason, it hadn't occurred to you that he would want to look at it, really look at it.

"Turn around," he said again, his tone leaving no room for argument this time. He didn't like repeating himself, and he especially didn't like feeling like he was missing out on a piece of you, this girl that had taken him completely by surprise and made him forget that anyone else existed. "Now."

Your brain seemed to short circuit, and you stood there for a minute, blinking at him with your lips parted as if you were going to object, but instead, you simply turned around, holding your breath as you entered your natural state of constant worrying.

Your breath hitched slightly, your eyes squeezing shut in fear and anticipation as he gently tugged the shirt up, revealing your back. he tugged the sweatpants down ever so slightly to see the bottom of the tattoo, and you waited for what seemed like forever before finally feeling his warm fingers run along the healed ink.

The image depicted on your skin, like art on a canvass, was two swans, kissing to create a heart with their faces. One of them was lightly shaded, meant to depict a white swan, and the other was darkly shaded, meant to depict a black swan. It didn't have an explicit meaning to you. You just thought it was pretty and really liked swans, the fact that they mated for life speaking to your hopeless romantic heart.

His fingertips traced the line work, a gesture that was sensual and seemed to leave fire in its wake. He stared at it for a long while, such a beautiful and permanent piece of art on his girl in such an indirectly intimate area making something within stir.

"You hate it don't you?" You breathed out, the words falling from your lips in a concerned hurry faster than you could stop it. The silence was suffocating, not knowing what would come after making your skin crawl with anxiety.

"Face me," was all he said. He wanted to look you in the eyes when he said what he had to say, wanted to make sure you really heard him and understood that he meant what he said.

You turned back around to face him, looking down at him as he placed his hands firmly on your hips, pulling you forward to stand between his legs. Your brows were knitted in worry, looking down at him like you were going to burst into tears if he'd started laying into you. You really liked Rafe—it was too soon to say love but... you did—and that mixed with your people-pleaser tendencies made your stomach turn at the thought of upsetting him.

Realistically, you had no reason to be so nervous about his reaction. It was your body, you could do whatever you wanted to it, and you had gotten it before you two even got together, but your brain didn't really care about what was realistic; it only cared about worst case scenario and disappointing people.

"Baby, you are absolutely gorgeous, alright?" He said sternly, already aware that you were preparing yourself for the worst and probably working yourself up about it. "And, fuck, I mean this tattoo... it only makes you more sexy to me. You're fuckin' perfect."

Your cheeks heated up again, not with fear or embarrassment this time but at his compliment. You also visibly relaxed as the clarification that he wasn't mad soothed your nerves a tad. You let out a surprised giggle as he tugged you down onto his lap.

"You got any more sexy little tattoos hidden under these clothes?" He asked flirtatiously, flashing that panty-dropping smirk that made him look ten times more handsome, especially when he was gripping your thigh with one hand and holding you securely against him by your waist with his other.

"No," you smiled, tentatively wrapping your arms around his neck, not knowing if it was as attractive as it seemed in books. "Just that one. Sorry to disappoint," you continued, your voice soft as you bit your lip shyly—one of your many anxious habits.

"Mm," he hummed, dipping his head into the curve where your neck met your shoulder. "Shame," he murmured, placing soft kisses against your skin as you giggled. The tension in the room had completely dissipated, replaced by a lighthearted and flirty atmosphere.

Rafe knew you weren't ready to go further than just kissing, and he was going to wait for as long as you needed him to. Though he'd be lying if he said he didn't get horny at the idea of pounding into you from behind, your tattoo completely exposed for him to gawk at, but he knew baby steps were in order. He needed to get you okay with sex before he molded you into his little personal porn star.

                         ୭ৎ

author's notes .ᐟ   described my own tattoo as the one reader has, but if you have your own or want to imagine it as something else, feel free to do so! i just thought i should describe the tattoo for the story's sake <3

also, i know this is a little different from the giggly and jokey couple we saw in my other anxious!reader x boyfriend!rafe fic, and that is because this is toward the beginning of their relationship. reader is still trying to learn to be more comfortable with rafe enough to be herself and realize that he loves her, even it she doesn't like herself, and rafe has never done the relationship thing, especially not with a girl like reader, so he's still learning to express his emotions and be soft and warm with her the way he wants to and know she deserves.

tags .ᐟ   @starkeysprincess / @cometmultiverse / @iheartjjmaybnk / @all4l0vee / @kissesfrmriri / @bradshawed / @fallbhind / @rafeslittleangel / @bakugouswaif / @fakedhearts / @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 /

[rosinaparker]

Hi! Hope you’re doing okay :) I was wondering if I could request Izuku being a simp, bending over backwards for whatever his (future) girlfriend wants, (she doesn’t know that), and finally he gets a push (literally) from Bakugo and he confesses his love for reader and happy ending- thank youu

“You have me wrapped around your finger”

Genre: fluff

Pairing: Izuku x Reader

Warnings: none

a/n: hii sorry that we're getting to yalls requests so late...this was one ended up being a bit sloppy excuse me for that😔🙏-Rose✩

Izuku Midoriya was known for a lot of things: being quirkless once upon a time, inheriting the power of the greatest hero in history, and muttering until his face turned red. But above all else, Izuku Midoriya was a certified simp. For you.

It wasn’t something you’d notice unless you paid close attention, which you didn’t. Not really. To you, Izuku was just your kind and reliable friend who always seemed to go above and beyond without you even asking. But to anyone else—like his classmates—it was blatantly obvious.

When you mentioned your favorite brand of tea during lunch one time? It magically appeared in his grocery bag later that week, tucked neatly next to his protein bars. If you complained about a sore shoulder after training, Izuku would “happen to have” a heating pad in his room and deliver it to you like some kind of awkward but adorable hero.

And when you asked him for little favors, he made them his entire personality.

“Midoriya, could you pick up my notebook from class? I left it on my desk.”

“Y-yeah! Of course!” he stammered, darting off at full speed like you’d just asked him to retrieve the Holy Grail.

You thought he was just sweet and thoughtful. Everyone else? They thought he was pathetic.

It wasn’t like Izuku wanted to be pathetic. It wasn’t like he woke up every morning thinking, How can I make myself look like more of a doormat today? No, he was just hopelessly in love with you and had no idea how to tell you without combusting on the spot. So instead, he did everything in his power to make your life easier—thinking maybe, just maybe, you’d notice one day.

today you had a grueling training session. You’d just finished sparring with Uraraka, looking exhausted but still smiling as you wiped sweat from your forehead. “Man, I’m wiped,” you said, turning to Izuku with a tired grin. “Think you could grab me a water bottle from the vending machine?”

“Yeah! Right away!” Izuku’s voice cracked as he sprinted off, already pulling out his wallet.

Bakugo stood nearby, watching the whole interaction with a look of pure disdain. When Izuku returned, practically tripping over himself to hand you the water bottle, Bakugo couldn’t take it anymore.

“You’re pathetic, Deku,” he sneered, stomping up to them like a storm cloud.

Izuku blinked, confused and panicked. “K-Kacchan, what are you—”

“What the hell are you doing, huh?” Bakugo barked, shoving Izuku in the chest. “Carrying her bags, fetching her water, running around like her damn servant—what are you, her personal butler now?”

Your eyes widened. “Dude chill—”

“Shut up, I’m not talking to you!” Bakugo snapped, shooting you a sharp glare before turning back to Izuku. “When are you gonna grow a spine, huh? You think doing all this crap is gonna make her like you? That she’s just gonna magically figure out you’re in love with her? You’re so damn pathetic it’s embarrassing!”

“Kacchan, stop!” Izuku tried to protest, his face bright red and his hands shaking. “It’s not—” Bakugo didn’t let him finish. With one sharp shove to the chest, he sent Izuku stumbling forward—straight into you.

“Bakugo, what the hell—!” you shouted, barely catching Izuku before he toppled over. Your hands gripped his arms tightly, steadying him as he stared at you with wide, panicked eyes.

“Go on, say it!” Bakugo barked, ignoring you completely. “Tell her, or I’ll knock it out of you myself!”

Izuku froze, his heart pounding so loudly he was sure you could hear it. You frowned, your hands still on his arms. “Tell me what? What’s he talking about, Izuku?”

The green haired boy swallowed hard, his mouth dry as he stared into your curious, worried eyes. He couldn’t keep running, couldn’t keep hiding behind excuses and small gestures. Not anymore.

“I like you!” he blurted, squeezing his eyes shut as the words tumbled out of him. “I’ve liked you for a long time, and I know I probably don’t deserve someone like you, but I just wanted to make you happy, and—”

“Midoriya,” you interrupted softly, reaching up to cup his cheek. His eyes flew open, his breath hitching as he looked at you.

“You really like me?” you asked, your voice gentle but serious.

“I do,” he whispered. “So much.”

Your lips curved into a small smile. “Good. Because I like you too.”

For a moment, Izuku forgot how to breathe. “Y-you do?”

You laughed, leaning forward to rest your forehead against his. “Yes, you idiot.”

Behind you, Bakugo rolled his eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t fall out. “Finally. You two are so sickening it makes me want to puke.”

Neither of you paid him any mind. For once, Izuku didn’t care what Bakugo thought. Because you liked him back—and that was all that mattered.

[ilonii]

Roomies G.S

✧ s.m - the everyday life of you and roommate suguru geto

w.c - 1.1k

warnings. fem reader, use of y/n, slight nsfw, mentions of sex, mentions of nudity, flirtatious behavior, brief gojo x reader, etc.

an. second installment of the jjk roomie series. for the next post, do you guys want sukuna or choso? comment your picks below.

Roommate Geto who honestly, you forgot even lived there. Between the tattoo shop and hanging out with Gojo any chance he gets, he’s rarely ever home.

Roommate Geto who only really talks to you when it’s time to pay his rent. The first Sunday of every month he knocks on your door and hands you an envelope full of cash, that he makes sure you count so you know he isn’t gonna short you.

Roommate Geto who, whenever he actually is home, cooks some of the most amazing food you think you’ve ever had.

“Geto oh my gosh, this is the best chicken parm I’ve ever tasted”

“I thought you said you’ve never had it before”

“Okay, so? I don’t have anything to compare it to but it’s still out of this world”

“You're funny, thanks pretty"

"You are very welcome"

Roommate Geto with the MOST annoying best friend you've ever met.

“Gojo, for the love of God, how many times do I have to tell you to stop eating all my snacks. I know for a FACT Geto buys plenty for you to eat while you’re here”

“Well I finished all the ones he got me last night”

“That doesn’t mean you eat mine asshole”

“Fine sorry. Here’s 40 bucks go by yourself so more. Oh! and while your out could you get me some of that strawberry mochi, you only had the mango flavor, not one of my favorites but I can’t be too picky I guess”

“You are unbelievable”

“Why thank you”

Roommate Geto who has the worse timing humanly possible. What are the odds that the one time you forget you towel and have to run from the bathroom to your bedroom, at the very same time Geto decides to pop his head outside his room for the first time today.

“Oh my gosh.”

“Oh…my..gosh”

“ARE YOU LAUGHING”

“No, no no im not im nottt”

“YOURE STILL LAUGHING”

“I mean I’m not laughing AT you, your body’s amazing, it’s just that-”

“EXCUSE ME”

“What? I call em like I see em”  

“are you serious right now?”

“are you naked right now?”

“I’m leaving”

“Just like your towel”

“SCREW YOU”

“Just say the word sweetheart”

Roommate Geto who after the “incident” won’t let you live it down.

“You know, its rude to laugh every time you see someone”

“Well, it’s also rude to run around the house naked and not tell anyone”

“It was a MISTAKE”

“that’s what they all say”

Roommate Geto who is a major tease. It’s like every time you see him, he’s shirtless, sweaty and begging to be licked.

“What are you staring at”

“Nothing”

“I don’t knowww, it kinda looks like you were staring at my abs if you ask me”

“Well, I mean, you’ve got em just sitting there, all on display and whatnot so I mean could you blame me really”

“guess not.”

Roommate Geto whose surprisingly….unlucky in love? He was up to four dates this week and returned home alone, once again.

“Hey, how’d it go”

“Idk man, maybe the problem is me”

“Why, what happened”

“She was just so boring and so superficial. I mean oh my gosh all she talked about the entire time was about how good all her ex’s told her she was in bed and how at the end of the date she’d give me SUCH a good time.”

“Wow, what a date”

“I know, like gosh I don’t remember it being this hard to get laid, like ever”

“Well, if you’re tryna just get screwed then you’re being a bit picky don’t you think, I sure she was a decent enough lay”

“Well, I mean yeah, but I’d also like to sleep next to someone I wanna get up and make breakfast for in the morning”

“I mean, you got me there”

Roommate Geto who talks you into letting him do your first tattoo.

“Oh cmon, don’t be a baby”

“Don’t be a baby? This is a permanent decision, not something to be taken lightly, AT ALL”

“It’ll be something small, in a place that won’t hurt too bad, it’ll take at the absolute most an hour”

“What would I even get”

“Something small and cute that represents you, that you won’t regret in forty years. And that’s not a butterfly.”

“What’s your beef with butterflies”

“You know how many teenage girls I give butterfly tattoos to each and every week? I’m so tired”

“Well, you’re in luck, I was actually thinking about something else”  

“So, you’ll let me do it”

“Yeah, why not. Yolo right”

“YES”

Roommate Geto who has a surprisingly large, sweet tooth.

“Geto, did you have Satoru over recently”

“Yeah, he was over last night, why what’s up”

“He ate all three of my packs of mango mochi. AGAIN”

“Oh um, actually that was me”

“You ate it? Since when did you start eating sweets like that”

“It’s a bad habit I pick up every now and then, I’m really sorry, I left some money on the counter for you to get some more, did you see the note?”

“I saw the money, no note. I left it there because I figured you just forgot it there or something”

“Nah, it’s all yours”

“Thanks, hey so that one-time last month when I got that strawberry cake and it disappeared the next day you blamed it on Gojo even though I didn’t even remember him being here, that was you”

“Uhhh, yeah”

“An entire cake Geto? Get a grip”

Roommate Geto whose been home an unusual amount.

“You’ve been home a lot recently, what’s up”

“Tired of seeing me already?”

“No, but I mean, I used to forget you lived here you were gone so long, and now you’re here no later than eight every day. Believe me I enjoy the company but it’s worth mentioning”

“Yeah, everything is fine, I just idk, have had more reason to be home recently”

“Yeah, reasons like?”

“You”

“What?”

“What?”

“What’d you just say”

“Nothing, why do you ask”

“But you just-”

“I just what?”

“hmm”

“Hmm”

Roommate Geto who you might have a crush on. I mean in your defense; he’s been turning up the flirt tenfold, and when there's an impossibly hot, tattooed guy cooking, cleaning and flirting with you, it's hard to help your feelings.

Roommate Geto who you, scratch that, DEFINITELY have a crush on. That's probably why you ended up in his bed last night.

“Geto, where are you going. You know its rude to sleep with someone and disappear in the morning”

“Well seeing as how we’re in my bed, I think you’d have to be the one to sneak off on me. But relax, I’m just gonna go make breakfast. You got anything in mind?”

“Mmmm how about, pancakes”

“Whatever you wish beautiful”

border by @bunnysrph

I hope you all enjoyed. don't forget to comment choso or sukuna next post.

[captain-bubble-wrap]

I'm curious how do you think Quinn would handle a breakup? Maybe one where he's being broken up with?

Boy, was this one hard to write... 90% of this is based on my last breakup, so... it's pretty... painful. SO ENJOY my misery! (I gave you a better ending than I had IRL, so you're welcome for that at least.)

"I loved you, I really did."

"It doesn't have to be this way," Quinn begged. "I still love you, Y|N."

"But you don't show it, Quinn. I've been so alone for so long and I just can't put myself through this anymore." Tears had been streaming down your face for several minutes now, since this whole spiraling conversation had started, yet you never broke eye contact with him. You wanted him to know how much this was hurting you to say and just how long you had been carrying the weight of it all.

"I tried to tell myself it would pass. It was this excuse, and that excuse, but nothing ever changed. I just don't think you can handle a relationship and your career right now. I'm tired of lying to myself. I'm tired of acting like tomorrow will magically be better. It's never better."

"Y|N I'm sorry--"

"I'm sure you are, and so am I, but I can't do this anymore. I just can't."

Quinn said nothing, his eyes dropped from your face while he stood there looking completely lost.

"You always say I don't deserve to feel the way I do when I'm down, because you've caused me to feel that way, but that's as far as it goes. Nothing ever changes. It's the same stuff over and over."

"I know, that's on me," he choked out, throat tight with anxiety. "I never intended to hurt you. I didn't think things were as bad as they were. I didn't realize I was hurting you."

You just shook your head in disbelief at hearing him say he hadn't noticed what he was doing to you. "You know, maybe I just asked too much from you. Maybe I demanded too much and you had no choice but to push back. I just don't know."

Quinn's eyes flick back to you immediately, "You were never too much, and I meant that every time I told you -- every time I tried to reassure you. You have always been there for me."

"And what about you? Where were you when I needed you the most? Distant, closed off, out with the guys? Even when you were beside me, you weren't really there. I begged you to do stuff with me and you'd say sure, but something would always come up. It was like you wanted an excuse to be away from me. I understood in the beginning, but fuck! I wouldn't hear from you until the next day. 'Sorry, I fell asleep. I left my phone at the hotel.' How could I not be suspicious?"

"I never cheated on you!" Quinn cried out.

"But, Quinn, the goddamn panic attacks you caused me! That hurt me!" Your voice was so much louder now, straining to remain below a yell. He was a blur in your eyes, with the tears obstructing your vision. "I begged you for the smallest of things! Christ, I'd say, 'good night, I love', and it was like you'd just ignore what I said. You never said anything the next morning! You say you love me, but you're horrible at showing it."

Quinn's voice, on the other hand, was growing smaller each time he had to plead his case. "I never fell out of love with you, Y|N, it's just like we drifted apart. I love how you treat me. I just wasn't used to being treated that way. I'm sorry if it came off like I was pushing you away."

"It was months though, Quinn. Months of feeling like I was the third wheel or just another friend. I don't like feeling so alone in a relationship. It's horrible."

"I don't know what else to say, but I'm sorry. Can I do anything to make this better?"

You were biting your bottom lip so hard when you heard his half-assed apology you tasted blood shortly after. "No, I don't think so. Too much has happened. I never thought we'd come to this. I thought you were going to be the last guy I had to open up to; the last guy I'd have to explain my past to. I wanted you to be my last, Quinn."

"I know, and I'm sorry I hurt you like this. I just got too comfortable and never checked in with how you were feeling. It was selfish of me. I'm not proud of any of this."

"I'm sorry it had to be this way, too. Sorry I had to bring this up out of the blue, but I've just reached my breaking point one too many times."

Even through all of your anger and sadness, you wanted to walk over to him and give him one last hug, but you had to stand your ground or all of these revelations would be for nothing. Too many times before you had talked yourself out of telling him how you had felt, but there would be no going backwards now.

"I've got to put myself first for one," you finally brought yourself to say. "I'll get my stuff out of here while you're on the road."

"Y|N--," he mumbled, his eyes so sorrowful hearing you say your goodbyes, so finite and decided.

"I hope everything works out for you, Quinn. I really do. I hope you find the person that's right for you. Someone who can handle your life and schedule. Again, I'm sorry but that doesn't appear to be me."

That was it. You had said everything you had argued with yourself over for months, in a matter of minutes, and now you were leaving his apartment. You'd linger on your decision for a moment once the door closed behind you, but you had to force yourself to go forward though your heart was begging you to go back.

On the other side of the door, you wouldn't hear him finally break down; his cries unheard and his heart shattered.

You'd reach the parking garage and get in your car but you didn't leave immediately -- almost like you were wanting to see if Quinn was just behind you, but the elevator door never opened. It was for the best. What would you have done if he had? Run back over to him? Say you were sorry? It was best not to think about the what-ifs.

It would hit you, as you rolled onto the street, that the next time you returned it would be to get your things, and likely the last time you'd ever be at his apartment. That apartment held so many memories, both good and bad. It felt more like home than your own did.

You'd find yourself in a silent argument the whole drive home until one song, on your shuffled playlist, catches your ear. It was Venice Bitch, by Lana del Rey, a song you loved until, for the first time, you noticed how much it aligned with your emotions.

"Fresh out of fucks forever, trying to be stronger for you. Ice cream, ice queen... oh god, miss you on my lips. It's me, your little Venice bitch...on the stoop with the neighborhood kids, calling out bang-bang kiss-kiss...and as the summer fades away, nothing cold can stay...you're right, I told you we'd make it work, you're beautiful and I'm insane...we're American made...give me Hallmark: one dream, one life, one lover...paint me happy and blue."

The music swells, as your tears run off your jawline. You loved Quinn so much! He had been the prince you had dreamed of, wished for and what had you done?

"Oh god, love him on my lips...touch me with your fingertips...it's me your little Venice bitch."

You'd pull in your driveway, your forehead resting against the steering wheel while you screamed out in agony at your broken heart. Your body hurt from crying for so long, throat sore from such loud emotions, and chest heavy with anxiety. Eventually, you'd exit your car and drag yourself to your front door. You couldn't just crawl into bed after all of that, you would need help in crying yourself to sleep. So, in the kitchen, you'd go through two glasses of wine while you convinced yourself you were such an idiot. Realizing you had thrown away the best thing to ever happen to you, you would being crying to loudly, it was like you were screaming. It was any wonder you hadn't awoken your sleeping neighbors next door. There was no fixing this now. What was done, was done.

All you wanted was some comfort but there would be no one to give you any. Not now. You felt you didn't deserve it anyway.

Leaving the glass and open bottle on the island, you forced yourself to the bathroom to wash your face. Seeing yourself in the mirror --how broken you looked-- had you been any weaker, you would have thrown something at it to erase the image from your mind. If only it would have been that easy to erase Quinn's sad eyes pleading for you not to leave. You wish you would have just left the light off.

In your bedroom, either out of habit or for comfort you grabbed a shirt to sleep in, which had been one of Quinn's. It hadn't taken long for the slight buzz to affect you but you felt no lighter or less phased by your actions. You wondered if you ever would.

As you figured you would, you'd cry into your pillow until flat exhaustion would pull you into sleep. That was until the buzzing of your phone would wake you from the light slumber. On the screen, "Huggy Bear" illuminated the room in bold, white letters. You ended the call, but no sooner had the phone screen gone black, it was flashing again. Like the first one, you swiped the red button and the ringing finally ceased. The next time the phone would buzz would be from a text notification. The words would send butterflies pulling your heart in one hundred different directions.

"I'm outside. Please, may I talk to you?"

Torn between leaving him out there in the cold, and actually giving him a moment to say what he needed to, you laid there for a few minutes before throwing the blankets aside and stumbling down the hall to the living room. Wiping your cheeks, you unlocked the door to find him standing there, his hoodie pulled up around his messy curls and his eyes bloodshot and wet.

You lean against the doorframe for support; arms crossed in an attempt to hide your deeper emotions.

"Y|N, I don't want things to be this way. I don't want things to end like this."

It was so hard, but you stood your ground, no matter how hard you wanted to fall into his body and tell him you were sorry.

"I'll try harder. I shouldn't have taken you for granted like I did."

Finally, you say something to him with a slight shaking of your head," This wasn't all on you. I asked too much. I'm sorry."

Your stifled cries can't be held back for long, and shortly after apologizing, you cover your face with your hands to hide your crying. Your whimpers stab Quinn in the heart all over again, still feeling he's the sole reason you're feeling this way. He steps forward, and wraps his arms around you. He's so warm against the cold night air, which causes your nails to dig into his back, allowing yourself to return his embrace.

"I'm so sorry! I'm so, so sorry!" You cried out, holding on to him like a lifeline.

"So am I," Quinn whispered in to your ear, trying to keep you from a panic attack. "C'mon, let's get you back inside. Is that okay?"

You'd allow him to guide you back into the warmth of the your house. He would be the one to shut and lock the door, and through all of that, he'd still keep you pressed against his chest.

"I never wanted to make you cry," he confessed, never realizing how much he could miss the feeling of you in his arms.

"I can't believe I hurt you like that, Quinn," you replied, hiding your face from his.

"Don't apologize, please." he said, nearly on the brink of tears himself. "I'm sorry I hurt you so much that we even got to this point in the first place."

The fact that he had even wanted to see you, to drive outside of the city to get to you, and above all else, not telling you how much of a horrible person you had been, spoke volumes of Quinn's willingness to be better for you. He wrapped both arms around you tighter than he ever had before. You were shivering, wearing nothing but that oversized t-shirt, but you didn't care; being cold wasn't going to take away whatever this moment was with Quinn.

"Are you okay?" He asked, running a hand up and down your spine. "You're shaking."

"I don't know."

"Come on, pretty girl, let's get you back to bed, hm? If you'll let me."

You nod, but were still reluctant to let go of him. Now you were forced to face him and it felt terrible to still see him looking so heartbroken. His cheeks were still wet with fresh tears, as he had apparently been silently crying while he had been holding you. You touched his face and his eyes closed against your touch.

"I'm sorry."

His eyes would open again, and he would try to smile for you. "I'm sorry, too."

Without another world, Quinn would guide you back down the hall to your bedroom, rather familiar with where everything was in the house. The light was off, your phone lay in the middle of the bed with the screen on. Your wallpaper was a picture of Quinn and yourself at last year's Stanley Cup playoffs, and it was the only light in the room. Quinn would click on one of the bedside lamps before reaching for your phone.

"I always loved that photo," he said, lingering on the photo for a moment before shutting off the screen and laying it next to the lamp.

You'd crawl into the bed and he would move to tuck you in, "I don't want you to hate me, Quinn."

He'd stop moving to return his eyes to your face. "I don't, sweetheart. I don't think I could...ever. It hasn't crossed my mind."

"But--"

"I'm not upset with you, baby. This is on me. What you said was true: I should have paid more attention.

You gasped through the beginnings of another crying fit, "I don't deserve it!"

"Shh, shh," Quinn leaned forward to cradle your face with his hand. "I needed to hear it, baby. The truth hurts sometimes. I'll be okay once you are."

"Will you-- will you stay tonight?" You asked, terrified he could possibly deny your request, trying to stop crying.

"Of course," he managed to actually smile. "I'd love to."

"Quinn, I'm so--"

"It's okay, it's okay. We've both said it enough."

You'd sniffle with an added nod as he pulled back the covers to get in next to you. He'd turn off the lamp before you found your place against his chest.

"I'll be right here when you get up, okay?" He assured.

"Promise?" You mumbled.

"I promise. I also promise not to make you feel like this again."

You didn't know what to say. It was like he had completely forgiven you for everything. "I don't want to lose you."

"You haven't sweetheart. I'm right here," he said, running a hand through your hair. "I love you."

Quinn's admission made you cry again, "I love you, too, baby."

"Shh, shh, you don't need to cry. I'm right here. I'm yours as long as you want me."

[crocodile-tears-and-a-dream]

excuses..

summary: the two of you stopped at an inn after a long night of travel, but there was only one room..

pairing: geralt of rivia x gn!reader

warnings: they're stupid, fluff

word count: 1.6k

a/n: i haven't written anything that's not a crack fic or a screenplay in ages. this is my attempt at fixing my bad writing, any constructive feedback is welcome!

it was stupid, borderline pathetic, how the two of you tried to find any reasoning at all that cold winter night.

you and geralt had been traveling for quite some time trying to get to the famous kaer morhen. he needed to gather more elixirs and supplies for future battles and monsters, but the weather became too harsh to keep going up the mountains. tonight seemed particularly frigid, so you both decided to stop at an inn rather than camping outside like usual.

as you walked in, the warmth from the fireplace consumed the small space of the room, a stark contrast from the conditions you came from. a frail-looking old man sat at the counter bored, instantly sitting up as he watched geralt’s large form stomp through the quaint lodge. you followed closely behind as he made his way to the reception desk.

“we need two rooms.” the white wolf grunted tossing a bag of coins on the counter. (haha.. I'm not funny)

“yes of course,” the old man says snapping out of his stupor. he flipped through his log book and lets out a sigh. “unfortunately we only have one room left”

“we’ll take it”

you weren't given much of an option and the innkeeper had already handed you the key. it's not like you were disappointed though. you had developed quite the attraction for the silvered-haired witcher during your travels together. you would never admit it out loud, but the longing gazes and lingering touches the two of you often shared meant something more. at least to you it did.

it was a silent walk up to the room. neither of you knew what the other was thinking, but maybe that was for the better. it was selfish the way you hoped there would be an excuse to hold him close as the night grew colder.

the door creaked open and your heart sunk a little as you took in your surroundings. the room was beautiful, yes. the nicest thing you had stayed in for months but, there was one problem.

there were two beds.

geralt, oblivious to your internal conflict, stepped further into the room and dropped his belongings onto the bed nearest the window. the soft creak of the mattress, as he sat down, snapped you out of your thoughts, and you busied yourself by removing your cloak, shaking off the snow that clung to the edges.

“we should get some rest,” he said, his deep voice breaking the silence. “the snow will calm by morning, and we’ll need to leave early.”

you nodded, avoiding his gaze as you placed your things on the other bed. the room was quiet except for the sound of the wind howling outside and the faint crackle of a small hearth in the corner. the heat was soothing, but it did little to calm the restless energy swirling within you.

as geralt began to undo his armor, his movements slow and deliberate, you couldn’t help but steal a glance at him. the firelight danced across the sharp lines of his face and body, casting shadows that only made him seem more otherworldly. he caught you staring, and for a moment, his golden eyes met yours.

“you’re quiet tonight,” he observed, his tone softer than usual. never in a million years could you have imagined a time where geralt spoke more than you. i guess there's a first time for everything you thought to yourself

“i’m just tired,” you lied, forcing a small smile.

he nodded but didn’t look away, as if he was trying to read something hidden in your expression. the weight of his gaze made your heart race, and you quickly turned back to your belongings, fumbling with your pack.

“get some sleep,” he said finally, his voice low but gentle. “we’ve got a long day of travel tomorrow.”

you nodded again, slipping under the blankets of your bed and turning your back to him. but as you stared at the wall, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing, you couldn’t help but wonder if he was just as restless as you.

a couple of hours passed, and the two of you drifted into a deep slumber. your dreams took you to familiar places—snow-covered trails, battles against monsters, and the quiet moments by the campfire when words weren’t needed. but more than anything, you dreamed of him. his sun kissed eyes, his rare smiles, and his strong presence always keeping you safe.

then the dream shifted. the warmth of the campfire turned into an oppressive heat, the orange glow becoming flames roaring at the edges of your vision. your heart raced as the bed beneath you ignited, the fire consuming the blankets and wood. the panic felt so real, and you jolted awake, gasping for breath.

except it wasn’t just a dream.

flames flickered at the edge of your bed, small but growing, their heat unmistakable. you scrambled out of bed, the pounding of your heart echoing in your ears. the realization hit you like a cold slap: you had caused this. your magic, tied so deeply to your emotions, had manifested the fire from your nightmare.

“geralt!” you called instinctively, but you didn’t wait for him to wake. your hands moved on their own, summoning a stream of water from thin air. the magic poured from your fingertips, dousing the flames before they could spread further. steam rose in a hiss, and the smell of scorched fabric lingered in the air.

geralt sat up abruptly, his sword already in hand, instincts sharp even in the haze of sleep. his eyes darted around the room before settling on you, still standing with trembling hands and remnants of magic fading from your fingertips.

“what happened?” he asked, his voice low but alert, eyes narrowing in concern.

“i—i had a nightmare,” you stammered, your voice shaky. “and I... i think my magic got out of control.”

he stood, crossing the room in a few quick strides clearing some of the smoke with his arms along the way. his gaze flickered between you and the damp, charred edge of the bed, realizing the situation.

“are you hurt?” he asked, his tone softening as he placed a hand on your shoulder.

you shook your head, swallowing hard. “no. i’m fine. i put it out before it got worse.”

he studied you for a moment, his hand lingering as if to steady you. “you should’ve woken me,” he said finally, his voice calm but firm. “fire magic is dangerous if you’re not careful.”

“i didn’t mean to,” you whispered, guilt creeping into your voice.

“i know,” he said, his thumb brushing lightly against your shoulder before he stepped back. “but you handled it well.”

he looked at the scorched bed and then back at you. “you need rest. take mine.”

“what about you?” you asked, still shaken.

“i’ll manage,” he said simply, dragging a chair toward the hearth and settling into it, his sword resting across his lap. “just... sleep. i’ll keep watch.”

you hesitated, the weight of his gaze grounding you. slowly, you nodded and climbed into his bed, the lingering warmth of his presence oddly comforting. his scent lingered on the pillow and you found yourself wanting more.

"wait-" you called, your voice wavering slightly as you sat up in bed, unsure of the words you were about to say.

geralt looked up at you, his honey-dripped eyes still sharp but softer in the dim light. he waited, allowing you to speak, though there was a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze.

"you're going to be tired tomorrow if you don't rest now..." you hesitated for a moment, but the quiet need gnawing at you grew stronger. "we can share the bed, i don’t mind."

you could feel the tension between you two, both of you trying to navigate the line between comfort and something more. geralt's gaze flickered to the bed, and for a moment, you saw a flash of hesitance cross his face. but it was gone in an instant, replaced by that familiar stoicism.

“are you sure?” he asked quietly, his voice low and careful, like he was weighing the words carefully.

you nodded, not trusting yourself to speak again. you didn't need to, though; your eyes, pleading and vulnerable, said enough. there was no turning back now.

geralt gave a soft grunt of acknowledgment, settling back slightly as you climbed into the bed next to him. his body remained rigid, keeping a respectable distance, but the air between you was charged with something unspoken. neither of you said anything, but the shared warmth in the bed was all that mattered. you could feel his presence beside you, close enough to touch, but not quite allowing it. as you lay there, facing your back to him, your heart raced with the knowledge that, despite the stillness of the night, something had shifted.

before long, the warmth and the sound of his breathing lulled you into a deep, dreamless sleep. the tension in your body melted away, and the darkness of slumber took over.

but geralt stayed awake a while longer, his gaze never leaving your form. he couldn't help but watch, the softness in his expression betraying his usual guarded demeanor. as the hours passed, something inside him shifted, a quiet longing he’d tried to ignore.

slowly, he moved, as though pulled by some invisible force. he gently shifted closer, his arm slipping around you instinctively. his body molded to yours, and without a second thought, he held you close, his warmth wrapping around you like a shield.

the movement was so subtle, you barely registered it in your sleep. but your body, so attuned to his presence, naturally relaxed against him. his heart beat steadily behind you, his grip possessive but not tight, just enough to keep you there, pressed perfectly against his chest.

and maybe- just maybe, you would never find out that it was him who set your bed ablaze finding it the simplest excuse, in his mind, to hold you close.

[ackerink]

Hi. How are you?

Take your time. Don't be in a rush to write.

Levi Ackerman civilian x female reader captain

In which the reader here takes Levi's place in the plot.

The reader came from the underground with her two friends being taken by Erwin Smith.

Kuchel, Furlan and Isabel are alive and live as civilians along with Levi.

The reader is humanity's strongest soldier. Ackerman here is not the clan that suffered the experience 100 years ago, but rather the reader's clan.

The reader is shopping together with her squad. Levi and Kuchel have a tea shop. Levi admires the reader and would like to meet her, but he is shy. Petra ends up finding Levi's tea shop and tells the reader.

I leave the development up to you. I have so many ideas with this theme of the reader taking Levi's place that I don't know if you would accept it. But, don't feel obligated to do it.

this is an interesting idea, i'll make a place for this on my masterlist if you decide to submit another one of these "reverse au" asks!

"levi." kuchel lays her hands on her son's shoulders, only then does his attention begin to shift. "sorry," said levi. "i wasn't paying much attention." his response earns a laugh from of his mother. her hands linger on him, the scent of her soap, old wax candles and herbs calm his senses.

"i can see that, what were you looking at?" she asks, her eyes scanning the direction in which levi seemed so entranced in. the town falls silent, onlookers stare on at the incoming soldiers. the wings of freedom dawning their uniforms, blood staining their hands. kuchel's smile fades a little, yet she keeps quiet.

"the survey corps?" she mutters, tasting the words on her tongue as if she had never said them before. levi points, his finger following in your direction. "they call her 'humanity's strongest soldier'." he acknowledges, staring at you, watching you stride. a fatigued and wearied walk that looks like it drains you of whatever energy you have left.

still you stand out from the rest, levi can't explain it but he can sense fortitude, stability and resilience from you. he imagines having to hear the distant screams, pleas and howls of the soldiers who didn't back it back—the ones who were eaten, crushed or worse.

"what does it take to be the strongest? i want to ask her myself. . ." levi whispers, a silent prayer to whoever will listen that maybe, he'll get to meet you. kuchel ponders her son's words in silence, turning away from him to see to the customers who pass by.

mornings, nights, afternoons, all pass by and you do too. every expedition is another step towards something better, or maybe that's something you just tell yourself.

"excuse me," velvet features and soft, blue, warm irises is what levi is met with this morning. the woman waves to get his attention, wearing the uniform he had gotten so familiar with. "hello." levi greets her, a towel in his right hand, a duster in his left. "what do you sell here?" the young lady asks, an uncertain expression twists her face.

"tea, black tea, earl grey, chai. any kind." levi's eyes don't meet hers, too busy scanning her uniform. the robust characteristics taking up all of his attention until she speaks again. "um, can i get the chai?" a smile stretches across her face. "it's for my captain, she's not picky."

"your captain?" levi inquires, passing the box of tea over the thin wooden counter. the soldier nods, exchanging the currency in her hand for the tea. when she turns around there are other soldiers stalling, most likely waiting for her when levi glances over her shoulder, he sees your face again.

"your captain is. . .humanity's strongest?" levi already knows the answer however he asks anyway. "i've always wanted to meet her." levi never thought of himself as shy though the prospect of even being in your presence makes his stomach flutter with trepidation. the woman nods again, her smile brighter than before. "really? i'll call her over for you." levi can't object, he can't shy away—not now. this is his moment to finally speak to you.

"captain! over here!"

[ch3rrybbie]

Shouldn’t have reposted that

Now I shall demand a homelander x fem reader coffee shop! Au at once!

Caffeine calls

Summary: he’s just some dude, kinda maybe. But he’s your favourite customer! And you’re his favourite…. mortal???

Warnings: flufffffffffffffff, Homelander being Homelander lol, yandere homelander?

ch3rrybbie says: I love you anon 😭 keep those demand coming yall r geniuses w ur requests. Kinda went for superman vibes??? Hope you like it 👉🏽👈🏽🥹 so sorry it took ages didn’t wanna rush it and be too awful I still think it’s bad hahah.

———

He came like clockwork.

Everyday for three weeks without fail. The timings differed but his presence he never did.

Six foot, perfect pearly teeth, golden hair, icy blue eyes and a thunderous laugh. He was powerful and everyone behaved when he came in, even the anxious shakes you got when serving someone.

A bell rings in the distance and you yell over your shoulder, “ Be with you in a sec!”

His smooth baritone chuckles back, “No rush sweetheart”.

You gasp and turn. And sure enough there he is amongst the stench of coffee and milk.

Mr H.

———

The first time he’d graced the shop his presence waved over the room.

Gasps and mutters filled the room, you ignored it deciding his gorgeous face was the root of this mass hysteria.

“Who shall I say the orders for?” You can’t help but beam at him, it was fifteen minutes before you’d finally taken his order. You been crying laughing at his anecdotes and jokes and he’d licked up you laughter with a devilish grin.

You’d already guessed his order, flat white no sugar no syrup no nonsense.

“Home-Joh- uh you can call me H” he shuffles awkwardly attempting to regain his lost composure.

Giggling you scribble Mr H on his cup with a tiny heart.

“Alright Mr H, coffee will be a few minutes”

“No rush sweetheart” he smirks at you.

———

“Morning H, you’re out early”

“Well you know me, babies to kiss and baristas to see”

And in no time you pull a coffee from behind the machine, ready and waiting for him, he slides over a twenty.

He was always generous.

You persist in your ignorance of customers flapping over him.

Taking him in with the little time you had, you decide his Vought baseball cap does nothing to hide his classic face.

The handsomeness of classic Americana, all pearly smiles and golden blonde hair.

Leaning over the counter a gestures to your hair.

“This is new!” He coolly exclaims, sending you scrambling to explain.

“Oh! I’m surprised you noticed I don’t know I just thought I needed a little change or-“ fumbling over yourself you scramble to come up with an excuse after all the criticism you’d received prior from others.

“It’s great” an affirmation if you’d ever heard one, his word was final.

Yet sensing the mistrust he persists.

“It’s perfect doll, in fact what are you up to tonight”

“Oh, well I um” insecurity seizes you, why you?.

He waggles a finger in your face.

“Let me decide for you, how about I pick you up around 6 ish and we go for some dinner?”

A smile whips across your face in anticipation sensing his apprehension peaking through you decide to oblige.

“I’m sure I could figure something out” you jest, the corner of your mouth twitching.

A fast knocking sounds at the window, a ginger woman in a bright canary jumpsuit signals the time to him and he rolls his eyes and stars to ready his departure.

He stands up from leaning across to you and directs a withering glance at her.

“Gotta go, world to save sweetheart. I’ll see you later” with a wink and a smile he’s gone as soon as he came.

Only problem was you didn’t remember telling him your address, and yet he said he’d pick you up?

[youngwonhui]

✦ live on my knees, make you see | ch. 2

*•. member: choi seungcheol x afab reader

*•. summary: your life goes on, and it leads you to more and more interweaving encounters. Things progresses between you and Seungcheol. More rollercoaster to ensues.

*•. genre: angst, strangers to lovers; kinda, corporate and family drama, life and misunderstanding happened in general

*•. wc: 9963

*•. warnings: unintentionally introducing corporate drama. no, i am not projecting. maybe.

*•. cross posted in AO3

chapter 1 | chapter 2

Shrinking.

That’s the feeling that has been eating your nerve for the past week.

Your team or your new boss never question you when you took a week to work remotely from your house instead of going to the office. A general concern from your team, but nothing that you couldn’t handle with a few excuses of feeling mildly unwell.

Which isn’t exactly wrong.

But the underlying feeling of being a coward doesn’t sit well beneath your skin. Getting you restless even when you’re lying down your bed, safe under the cover. Your thought runs to the unexpected meeting at Seungcheol’s front door.

You remember when your mom caught you once in middle school. Skipping class and spending time in a PC room. Unfortunately she had caught on your investigative mission of looking around the internet For your so called ‘father’.

It resulted in hours of your mother’s scolding. Back then it meant nothing. But eventually you realize that half of her anger wasn’t so much because of you, but because of the fact that you just unearthed. How your father is posting a photo of him and a little boy. Proudly captioned with somewhere along the line of a special day at school with said little boy.

Back then, or now, you can always recognize the bright brown eyes and high cheekbones. How he grown out of a curly hair and braces. If you have any conscience, you would be ashamed of stalking a stranger on the internet. But your anger, it stained your heart and then dried with animosity for years.

For now, obliviousness and daily routine will be your medicine.

As you took another step that morning, finally coming back to the office, wind gets impossibly brisk with every movement you make. Looking down to your feet, you didn’t manage to notice the familiar figure waiting for you by the entrance of the building. Disheveled as ever, tuft of dark brown curls making its way out of the tied hoodie.

“Y/n.”

Looking up, the sight of a visibly sleepy Seungcheol welcomes you. His lips stretch into a lazy smile as he makes his way to you. Dimple carving deeper the closer he came to you. Gulping down the words you wanted to make, you simply accept a cup of warm coffee thrusted to you. Another cup perched in Seungcheol’s grip.

“If you’re not too busy after work, do you want to come up later?” The man in front of you paused, a little unsure in his words but he immediately nodded lightly. More to himself rather than to convince you. Both of you know that you give each other enough respect to do anything you wanted to do. Or in this case, you’re free to say no to his offer.

The long curl that escaped the hoodie has made its way to his barely opened eyes. The warmth of familiarity hits your chilling bone.

How most of your morning spent bumping into Seungcheol like this. After he spend ungodly hours in his studio or apartment. Then, only when the day finally breaks and a glimpse of sunlight finally shown its way past the horizon, only then Seungcheol would finally steps outside to fresh air.

Unfortunately you can only remain silent, unable to offer him a word to cheer up his barely starting day. Fingers gripping the cup rather tightly as you rearrange your thought.

Noticing this, Seungcheol’s free hand enveloped yours. Warmth emanating yours as you sigh defeatedly. With one last caress from Seungcheol’s thumb, he retracted with a murmur of time. Somewhere along the line of not wanting you to be late for work. He turned to the door with a little wave and a lazy smile. You follow suit and climbing up the stairs a few steps behind. Until you arrived at your floor and Seungcheol turned around to you.

“I mean it when i’m inviting you Y/n, so please knock on my door. It’s only me and no one else. If that thought bring you peace.”

\\

There were cards and flower on your desk. Mixes of ‘welcome back’ and ‘get well soon’ written in various colours and fonts. Smiling as you accept it all. Somehow you’re not surprise they—your team, even ordered a cake just to commemorate the occasion.

You had vehemently refused to put on a cone hat, but you enjoy the greeting despite the overly doting attention you had been given. You thanked them more for the work that has been cut out for you. Working a little overtime to research and oversee on-site materials that you could have missed from working remotely. So you dedicated each extra slices of cake for the three.

At the end of the day, you tried waited for everyone to leave. But none of your team wanted you to spend extra time of doing any work. You tried to assure them that you wouldn’t, but they were adamant, resulting in you blurting out that you’re going to see a friend instead.

“If i see you typing on your comp—” It was time to clock out, and you barely lift up your head to notice three pair of eyes are looking at you who still has your butt planted to your chair.

“Are you threatening me Jisun?” You chuckled, making a show to cross your arm.

“Well, you pull this kind of things often. We just don’t wanna leave until you leave.” Soyeon’s reply making you sigh in frustration. A smidge of adoration for them.

“We just want to make sure you’re not overworking yourself again.” Chan simply stated.

“Well, i am not? I’m gonna just go and see my friend and not spend any time working on anything at all.” You raise your hand in defeat. The three in front of you shares glances with meaningful silent discussion. You can still sense the doubt between them. “If you guys have to know, my friend is in this building too. That’s why i’m staying and not rushing out.”

“Then we should escort you to them.” Chan suggested, met with series of nod in approval by his friends.

“Absolutely not.”

The finality of your word eventually makes its effect moments later. When you’re closing every folder and turning your desktop off. Shouldering the bag you bring, as you ushered your team out of the room and eventually the office. True to their nature, the three-left climbing down the stairs with curious whispers.

Presumably planning a coup if they eventually make their mind to it.

There’s always the option of going home. Walking out of the building to convince them further that you wouldn’t overwork as they claim.

Yet the other choice weighs down your heart. Images flashes in your mind. Of messy, curly, and sleepy figure in most of your commute. Always within reach but seemingly far away. Although you have yourself partly to blame about that.

Heaving out a breath, you knocked at the familiar door.

Rendering a smile in your face when the door opened to a sight of Seungcheol. Not much different than this morning, only less fatigue and questionably fluffier. Somehow.

He welcomes you as always, Kkuma trotting in tow. Little paws trying its best to catch up as Seungcheol lead you to the familiar open space. Where his living room and kitchen connected as one, situated in polar opposite.

You catch the faint melody flowing through one of the speakers Seungcheol has installed in various spot of the place. Also noticing the clean state of his apartment. As if Hansol was never here at all. Opening the door to you, resulting in the shattering of your living bubble into the reality.

“Have you eaten? I ha—”

“Hansol and me— he’s my half-brother.”

At the sudden confession, Seungcheol looks up to you. Catching the air you didn’t spend. Looking back straight to Seungcheol as if you’re gauging for his response. Or simply looking for encouragement. Strengthen the bone to support you from where you stood now.

“His father have me before he went to New York and then Hansol was born. I know his father knew about my existence, but i didn’t know that Hansol does too. So, imagine my surprise when i see him opening your apartment door.”

There’s a box full of your baby pictures, hidden by the dark corner of your closet. One picture stood out. Of you, barely opening your eyes as you’re being held by a man you never felt like a father. Your mother didn’t delegate it to you, but you kept it anyway. Like an unspoken open secret.

You wished that apathy is all you felt towards those pictures. But it was otherwise back then.

Barely entering middle school and deep in a childish dispute with your mother, you opened those boxes and simply enthralled by the notion of a ‘father’. Who left you and your mother. Barely months after you breathe the air in this earth.

He left after knowing you.

And that was the spark, of your hidden obsession towards your father’s new family, the family he didn’t abandon. A new partner, a boy, and a little girl. Such perfect family.

It goes on years and years, those obsessions. Until your mother fell sick.

The thought of old memories pricked your eyes. Regrets of mistakes you could never set undone. Clenching your fist tightly to keep your proper composure, you look back at Seungcheol who remained silent. Your eyes boring into his calm composure, clad in an oversized white T-shirt and beige jogger.

“My question remained, Y/n.” Seungcheol paused before pulling a plate on the rack. “Have you eaten?”

“I haven’t but—”

“Then let’s eat. I have to shamefully admit i spend some hours on this seaweed soup but it only ended up being mediocre. At least it had plenty of meat in it. And that’s a win.” You let out a mix of laughter and exasperated sigh at Seungcheol’s proposition.

“Are you not gonna ask me anything?”

You had make a stride towards him. Now only separated by the marble countertop of Seungcheol’s kitchen island. Leaning to the surface, Seungcheol raises his brow at your question. A rebuttal that jolts your heartbeat by a split second.

“Do. You. Want. To. Try. My. Seaweed. Soup?” The emphasize on each and every word while being uttered in such deadpanned face, you can’t help the chuckle that escaped your lips. Looking away to prevent you from focusing too much on the dimple that formed on Seungcheol’s cheeks by now.

Then, you could only give in.

Sat on the dining table that couldn’t be describe by other word than ‘familiar’ and ‘cozy’. Although perched on a quite small table, you admit that you enjoy the proximity of sitting closer to share foods with Seungcheol. Other than when you can’t be bothered and just sat sprawled by the floor with pizza box by your side. That was one night after you helped Seungcheol to bathe Kkuma.

With one bowl of warm rice and more than enough portion of seaweed soup, you sat and kept the silence. You feel like you’ve said what you need and now it’s just up to Seungcheol. Although you had an inkling that it doesn’t have to be up to him.

It never was in the first place. Clarifying your situation to Seungcheol. You could’ve goes on without doing so. Yet there’s a part of your mind where it knows that the fact you just blurt out to Seungcheol lightened the weight in both of your heart and head.

“Are you gonna offer me dessert too?”

Seungcheol looks up to your suggestion, lips tugged to a smile. Cheeks fallen deeper into his dimple. Brown curls down to his eyes but you know he raises his eyebrow. It’s like a subconscious habit for him.

“Sure, what do you want?”

Seungcheol gestures you to follow him, eventually leading you to his fridge. You stood close to the open door, flinching a little from the flowing cold air. It brought you closer to Seungcheol’s side. His one arm still gripping the fridge door handle tightly.

“Don’t judge me, but i just love to stock up on many sweets. Ice cream, cheesecake, cookie dough, pastry, you name it.” Seungcheol admitted bashfully, averting his eyes up and down his fully packed fridge shelves. Strangely you can’t avert yours from his side profile. The proximity allows you to notice how long his lashes actually are.

“You want to bake some cookie?”

Your eventual suggestion earns a slow nod of approval from Seungcheol before he leans closer to you and reaching for the pre-packaged cookie dough.

It shouldn’t surprise you that Seungcheol are not well versed in baking. Based on how he’s making rounds around the space of his kitchen, only looking for utensils and finding ways to pre-heat his oven. So to cut back time, you delegate him to assist you instead.

Mixing chocolate chips and rolling out the dough evenly only took you less than thirty minutes. Seungcheol could only exclaimed in amazement beside you as you eventually slid the tray of dough into the oven.

“Why am i not surprised that you’re good at baking.” Seungcheol started, placing a timer on the top of the counter as you both wait for the cookie.

“You can’t barely call it baking compared to when i used to do a part-time at a bakery.” You chuckled, wiping some grease in your hand with a towel. Setting it aside before settling beside Seungcheol. Leaning against the counter overlooking directly to the warm oven. “But i’ll take that as a compliment.”

Silence easily weaves its way between the two of you. Soft clicking of the timer, as well as pitter patter of Kkuma walking around the apartment.

“Don’t you want to ask me anything about Hansol?” You eventually said. Looking ahead to the orange light inside the oven instead of the man beside you. The heat from his gaze felt warm on your cheek.

“Do you want talk about Hansol?” There’s a low vibration rushing down your from your nape each time Seungcheol speak. “I feel like i’m not in a position to interrogate you regarding your private matter. From where i stood what i’m able to do is invite you to dinner, accompany you to drink some beer, watch a movie, or listen when you want to talk.”

You can feel the rigid muscle on your face, brows furrowed over some jumbled thought of everything that has anything to do with Hansol. Days has passed since meeting him up close, yet your feeling still can’t make itself clear in your mind. Rendering you lost and somewhat helpless. In the end you only feels pathetic for yourself as you try to force yourself to sleep every night.

“It was always me and my mom. We understand each other, rely on each other. Even though i was a young and stupid kid. She accepted her fate to raise me alone, and i always admire her for being able to make me understand how it came to be like this.” You paused, smiling to yourself at the memories of your mother. “She also understands my anger, my spite, as well as my sadness. So— i am sorry if i couldn’t tell you anything right now Seungcheol.”

The man beside you shifted on his feet before positioning himself in front of you. He placed his palms on your arms, holding you steady. Something you didn’t know you needed, even though you’re staying in one spot.

“Then we can just bake cookies.” Seungcheol whispers, resulting to a wet chuckle from you.

“You’re taking your position very seriously huh? What’s next, you’re gonna make me watch the rom-com movie you forgot to finish?” There’s a feeling of relief that Seungcheol didn’t retract his hold. You’ve grown to enjoy the warmth from his palms.

“Well, i happened to fall asleep last night while watching ‘How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days’.”

Harmonious laughter follows to fill the room. Above the droning noises, Seungcheol bowed his head a little in abashed. Fully proving how you’ve managed to read his habit like he’s an open book. You raise your eyebrow in reply, Seungcheol fixes his eyes back to you as he lowers his hand. Regretfully so.

But thankfully he didn’t move away.

There’s a sweet scent wafting in the air. Weaving in between the two of you. A signal that the cookies are almost done baking. Freshly filled with laughter and spurred by the smile that seems like it hasn’t left Seungcheol’s face, your curiosity gets the best of you.

“Have you been waiting for me every morning?”

From this proximity, it allows you to see how Seungcheol’s eyes dance around in surprise. Eventually his gaze returns back to you, a certain confidence lodged in his frame. Wetting his lips once, Seungcheol chuckled in defeat.

“Maybe i am, if i’m not too caught up in the studio.” You blink at his answer, a jolt of surprise running in your brain. “How could i not? After seeing you run away from me like that.”

“I was not running away from you. You know that.” A nod of understanding came as Seungcheol reply. You found yourself small in recollection of that night.

“I do, but with the state you were that night.” A paused, as Seungcheol sigh deeply. “How could i not worry? and then i found out you’re not coming to work the next day? I care about you too much to not do anything and sit on my hand.”

You were waiting. For anything, any signs that Seungcheol is just joking. Or some elaborate explanation of how he only ‘cares’ as a friend. But you’re only met with Seungcheol’s face as it remain in its somewhat default setting. A soft smile and attentive dark brown eyes, almost obstructed by his brown curls.

Desperation must’ve written itself in your face, even you could feel it. The words dies in your tongue though. Fear creeps up your thought over some word Seungcheol has nonchalantly uttered. You want to curse him for that, but you found yourself swayed in the thought of being a person that he cares about.

The loud ring from the timer sends your shoulder flinching. Immediately halting the long thread of thoughts in your mind. Reaching out behind you, Seungcheol moves closer to turn off the timer. He didn’t hesitate to smile sweetly at you before putting the quiet timer back to the counter and then left you to make a beeline to the oven.

Oh, yeah. Cookies.

\\

You almost bumped to a person when you look up from your phone as you’re replying to an urgent email that find you since the break of dawn.

Quick steps fumbling on the sidewalk as you tries to stabilize both your bearing and the person you almost bumped into. Sadly some contents of your bags flown out in the process.

“I am so sorry, I didn’t look at where i am going!” Frantic voice filled your ears before you crouch down the ground to pick up any fallen objects that you recognized as yours. The remaining already picked up quickly by the other person.

You notice the long flowing brown hair with accented small braids as it’s adorned by colourful ribbon. She’s quite young, much younger than you when you managed to look closely at her face as you both stood up after finishing to pick the the fallen objects.

While rearranging the contents of her bag with one hand, you notice her other one that’s gripping her phone tight as showing her screen displaying a map. You don’t know what came over you. Seeing that you never seen the girl around this time of day, while said girl is holding a map to some direction, you have a hunch that the girl is probably lost.

“Do you need help with directions?” You offered, quickly pointing to the map in her phone.

“Oh my god, i would say no because I don’t wanna inconvenience you more. But i am so lost. I think i’ve been circling around these block three times.” The girl exclaimed, a hint of annoyance painting her voice.

You make a quick queries of where she headed and to your unexpected surprise, she showed you the address to your office building.

“Oh? I’m actually going there now.”

“Oh my god. Are you for real?”

With a quick nod, you offer her to join you in your commute. The girl jumped a little as she gleefully agrees and immediately following your footsteps.

You make a quick apology when you realize you have to answer some email as you walk. Not being able to entertain the girl of some conversation. You should be wary of stranger, or at least paid some attention to your surroundings when you’re walking with one. But your guts telling you the girl is harmless.

She walks with her eyes wandering to anything that caught her attention. Your own eyes couldn't help to wander to her. How some of her feature, although hidden under the long flowing curls of brown reminded you of someone. The thought dies down on the tip of your tongue once you realize you've arrived.

“We’re here, do you need help findi—”

“Sofia!”

The two of you turned to the source of voice.

There was a rush as the girl beside you hurried to leave your spot and skips away in a gleeful shriek. As you turn to where the girl was going, nothing could prepare you for the sight of the other person.

The familiar brown eyes and high cheekbones.

“Hansol, i spend the whole hours walking around the street—”

The girl— Sofia’s words are quickly cut as Hansol lands his eyes to you. Even from far away, you can see the Hansol clenches his jaw tightly. As seem in resolute, he dragged Sofia by her elbow and make his way to you.

The fear that knocks you out almost a week ago strangely doesn't find you. Standing still as you held your phone in hand. You thank any nearby god that you still has strength left to do so. Who knows what else you would do in this situation.

“Ouch, dude what the hell—” Sofia muttered in annoyance.

“I— thanks for helping her. We will be going.” Bowing his head rigidly, Hansol breezed past you with Sofia in tow.

They leave shuffling away as Hansol managed to keep his hold on Sofia who put less effort on her struggle. Yet managed to turn her head back to you and wave with a smile.

“I don't know who you are but thank you for your help!”

Subconsciously you found yourself waving back. Despite your stunned thoughts from the whilrwind of interaction between Hansol and the girl— Sofia. And you.

Blinking the thought to pushed it away. You went to work like nothing happened.

Finishing task after task like nothing is bothering your mind.

And when the clock strike at 6PM, when majority of the office already leave or in the middle of getting ready to leave, your mind tuned back to those thought. Back to the surprising meeting from this morning.

Subconsciously you found yourself knocking at Seungcheol’s door. Pack of beer in your hand.

Strange to think that your muddled mind brought you here. To a place that you don't even know until a few months ago. Through some coincidence at that. The thought of many late night snacks and quick banter of conversation every time you bumped into Seungcheol has never failed to bring a whisper of smile on your face.

You wouldn't dare to admit it from time to time. But as your deep rooted habit remain a baleful shadow in your mind, you boxed that thought and feeling and wrapped it in the most beautiful ribbon. Easy in your mind so you wouldn't dare to delve deeper into it.

“Well hello Y/n.”

But it was so easy.

To swim into his dark brown eyes, framed under his strong brow. Nestled above his ever so raised cheeks that slope into his dimples every time he smiles.

“Hi there, wanna help me drink this up?” Raising the pack in your hand, Seungcheol is quick to take it off of you when he realizes what you bring.

With a slight tilt of his head, Seungcheol urges you to go in. Complying felt easy on your step. Smiling when you spot a white fluff coming in fast from across the room once you set yourself inside. Among the space you felt comfortable and in peace.

Unsurprisingly, Seungcheol already has a spread of little bites on his coffee table. Surrounding a legal pad and his ipad. As usual, there’s a flow of music through the speaker. Lulling you deeper into the warmth of the space.

Turning to a smiling Seungcheol, beers already set to the table before he looks back to you. The coziness are inviting you to spill your thoughts. To empty your day to him, in words uttered with the background of whatever music Seungcheol has put on. While Kkuma is somewhere dozing or strutting away her energy around the place.

Talking about everything but not the one you had been stored away, Seungcheol noticed the slight strain in your brow as you gaze at the can of beer you’ve been nursing for the past thirty minutes. A slight nudge on your arm took your attention from it and into Seungcheol. His gaze questioning.

“You talk about even the littlest thing about today. But why do you look like you still have so many more to tell me.” His voice are never demanding. Low rumble in your proximity as he’s always softly easing you to your thoughts.

“I think i met Hansol’s sister today.” The silence from Seungcheol are urging you to continue. Inhaling deeper with a hint of smile, you put down your beer to face the man beside you. “I remember when i was looking into Hansol’s dad, that he’s having a babygirl. A baby sister for Hansol. I remember i was so angry. I don’t quite understand why back then, heck i even denied to everyone around me that i was angry. Masking it all like a prideful kid. What a shame. Because if i just admit those anger, i think the grudge wouldn’t be eating me up like this. Making me live my days working like a dog as if i wasn’t enough for anything.”

Your voice has tapered to silence, the amount of alcohol you had consumed doesn’t quite helping your situation now. Spilling old and dried thought into someone like Seungcheol.

Wordlessly, Seungcheol slid his hand to yours. A light squeeze is enough to give you all the assurance in the world. That he’s listening.

“After knowing Hansol has a baby sister, i tried to forget about their existence. I stopped digging around and keeping tab on the family of a man that abandoned me. I lived, but like i said, i feel like i live as a corpse. Even when my mom fell ill, when she had to move to a care facility with our distant relative in Daegu because i can’t really took care of her and she wouldn’t want me to stop going to college here. Even then, i still think about them. I always thought that i would never meet them. That i could never discern his face among the crowds and we would live passing through each other without truly knowing each other. Yet here i am, bumping into both of them, and Hansol are probably thinks that i was a weirdo or a creep.”

A raised eyebrow from Seungcheol earned a chuckle from you. He know the reality of your last sentence. That even though years had passed, you still could recognize Hansol—and even his sister just from a single abrupt meeting.

The lack of sobriety in your part lets you feel a little loose. Letting out airy laughs without fully paying attention to the decreasing gap between you and Seungcheol. Sitting sprawled above his soft rug and leaning against his sofa. A crushed cans of beer put aside, your sole excuse just so you can come knocking to Seungcheol’s door and then spilling years of buried down secrets.

“You know, we all imagined all sorts of things in our life. And the funny thing is, seems like the universe are always listening to those, but they only listen. So that they could do things so out of your way that makes you think what you’re dreaming is useless. At least that’s what i always thought after failing to do everything that i wanted. A little silly thought to comfort me rather than blaming it in other people and then fall deeper into baseless hate.” Seungcheol giggles, his shoulder shaking as his hand remain on yours. Thumb caressing lightly in nonchalant.

Maybe you were much more lacking in sobriety than you thought you were. Maybe it’s the slight rumble of Seungcheol’s laughs and deep voice that you could feel whenever he’s near. Nonetheless, there’s something pulling you. An invisible force—first in your mind. As you circle around another thought you wrapped away, acting like you don’t even see it. Back to a few nights ago, spent together in the kitchen and with sweet smell of cookies.

Acting like you don’t know what came over you was easy. But actually doing what your mind told you to do is giving you such rush that rivalling the height that alcohol brings. And sweeter, even.

Your free hand traveled to cup Seungcheol’s cheek. With a surge, you plant your lips to his. Soft as you can feel the cherry lipbalm Seungcheol often applies. With your eyes closed you savour the air that has left your lungs and now filled with a deeper substance that bring a jolt to your heart with every second.

It was a peck on any other level, you’re somewhat didn’t dare to do more than that after feeling the body beside you froze as you continue your ministration. The audible little gasp from Seungcheol proven further to you that maybe a peck is enough for you. Enough that you didn’t cross any line to push him away.

You didn’t dare to utter any words. Simply pulling away slowly as your eyelids flutter open to the sight of Seungcheol, his face is a perfect example of soft steel. Strangely enough you think Seungcheol can read your mind. Because the moment you’re about to burst out of where you sat and scramble out of his apartment, Seungcheol has had his grip on your elbow. His palm felt burning on your skin.

“I can’t let you go home like this.”

His whisper anchors you to remain where you are. Buzzing with a newfound excitement when Seungcheol wouldn’t move even a millimeter away from your lips. A smirk on his lips accompanied his words while his free hand had traveled to hold your nape.

The burning hold he had on your elbow loosened but the sensation remain.

“I was so surprised, i thought the beer was mixed with something. Causing a hallucination of you actually kissing me.” Seungcheol’s warm breath washes down your lips. You can’t control yourself to remain unaffected as you bit your lower lip. Your eyes searches his.

“Well you can’t barely called that a kiss, Seungcheol.” You taunt.

“That’s true, here let me show you then.” He smiles.

Was all that you heard before you can feel his smile on your lips. The hand on your nape pulls you closer as you wrap yours around his, burrowing your fingers to the curly strand that earned you a satisfied hums from Seungcheol. His lips are still chasing yours with a small tugs to your freshly bitten lower lips. It sends your toes quite literally curling into Seungcheol’s expensive carpet.

There was barely any moment Seungcheol would let you pull away. No matter how breathless you both feels. The way you both melting into each other’s touch felt too good to end so soon. Not when you’re close enough to feel each other’s heartbeat in such proximity.

The months long since you’ve been meeting him, you felt like it sets so many things afoot. A roller coaster that you would never thought to happened. Your whole life have not been a flat ground so to say, yet the things that happened since the day you accidentally set yourself in front of Seungcheol’s apartment felt like it has to happened whether you like it or not.

That include meeting Seungcheol.

You had to admit that you’ve been avoiding the feeling you got. Each meeting setting off more surprising warmth in your heart. From the little smile Seungcheol gave you as he offers you a piece of gum each time after you’re done smoking to the time where he looks down from his window as if he’s a modern day rapunzel.

Unknowingly a chuckle had escaped your lips, bouncing off straight to Seungcheol’s face. Eyes half lidded as his long wisps of his eyelashes grazes his cheeks. He can’t help to mirror the delight on your features. You leaned into the thumb that has traveled to your cheek. Rough calloused surface caressing softly with as much care in the world.

“What’s so funny? Y/n?”

Despite his light grumble as you shift in your seat, inadvertently creating a few inches gaps between you two, Seungcheol kept his gaze to your lips. Curved into a smile, a rose blush painted on each end.

“Nothing,” a pause as you took a deep needed breath. Your muddled thought eventually settled throughout your long winded day. “I don’t know why, i just feel happy. Despite what happened today.”

Without a beat, Seungcheol pulls you into a hug. One that neither bone-crushing or halfhearted. Enough to make you feel the warmth of his chest, clad the soft materials of his T-shirt. Reveling the scent of his cologne due to the proximity, you let out a content sigh.

“It doesn’t matter what happened today, you deserve it otherwise. To feel happy.” Seungcheol whispers to the crown of your head, in return, catching the faint mix of coconut and a hint of floral from your hair products.

There’s a faint crackle from the speaker far away. Whatever song or playlist Seungcheol has put on might have ended. None of you really paid attention to it though. Time flows perfectly fine to slip into the bubble you both had created. Enough with each other presence.

The perfect mixture of warmth and happiness.

It flows through your vein. Seemingly connected to Seungcheol with every whispers and caresses he gave you. Nobody care that Kkuma has trotted closer and dozed off by the end of the sofa, nor that time has gone past midnight and you fell deeply asleep in Seungcheol’s embrace.

\\

Waking up hungover on a wednesday wasn’t really included in your weekly plan. Yet here you are, a dull ring reverberating throughout your cranial cavity. It certainly doesn’t invite any good memories from college. Not that you’re often passed out drunk on someone else’s sofa often.

Now that you think about it…

Forcing your heavy eyelids to open, you’re cringing from the bursting sunlight that welcomes you. Your free hand immediately flew to cover your face. But to no avail, the heat is worsening your already bad headache. Slowly being aware, you eventually realize the weight in your other hand. Hanging free from the edge of the sofa you laid on.

Nervously turning your head to your side, the sight welcomes you like the morning sun of fall. Such warmth unexpectedly coming through the fallen leaves and chilling breeze. How could it not when you had spotted Seungcheol laying down on the carpeted floor right by the sofa, his one hand tightly holding on to yours as he lay on his side. Curly bangs falling over his eyes, perfectly framing his squished sleeping face.

You thought you were going crazy as you manage to not tear your eyes off of the sight. Pink plump lips slightly ajar as he breathes, and the cheek who carved into a dimple when he smiles has turn into a full curve. Much resembling a bun.

A helpless laugh unknowingly went past your lips. Uncaring of the headache you’re experiencing. Wincing, you took a deep calming breath before continuing to glance at Seungcheol’s sleeping figure. Until a soft pressure applied to your hand quickly steal your attention.

“Why don’t you take a picture? It’ll last longer.”

Your eyes immediately widened, a slight blush went up your cheek at the thought of being found out.

Seungcheol pries one of his eyes open, looking up to you despite the glaring sunlight. He continues to play with your intertwined hand as he laughs drily. Seemingly in the same situation of hangover as you.

“I would take a picture, but my hand is occupied.” You laugh lightly, inciting the same response from Seungcheol. “Why are you down there though?”

“Why? Am i too far? Do you miss me already?” Seungcheol mumbles through his signature smirk.

“Well, your sofa is big enough for the two of us. So, my question remains.”

A quick flash of smile from Seungcheol and within second he’s sat up from where he lay. Messy curl nest of hair leaning over you. Close enough until you can spot the places where he had missed during shaving. Deep inside, you're trying to fight how fond you are of him.

“Unfortunately i snore in my sleep. Although yes, i do want to hold you close, i don't want to wake you up with such unpleasantness. So i’d rather sleep down here— which surprisingly is comfy enough, rather than disturbing your sleep. How is it? Does that answer your question yet?”

Biting your lower lip to hold back a smile, Seungcheol rests his head promptly near your arms. Softly mumbling how he's got to give Kkuma her breakfast. And incidentally, your stomach rumbled just after he finished his words. Fixating his gaze back to you, Seungcheol can't help the teasing smrk painted on his face.

“Would you look at that. Now i got two princesses to feed.”

A melodic deep timbre of laughter flowing through the room. You thought of how nice it is to be woken up like this. But for now, you still hid your face under your palm to mask the embarrassment.

\\

The sweater Seungcheol has offered you to change into felt impossibly soft. Added bonus point that it smells like him a little. Taking a warm shower after notifying your boss that you’ll be late, then Seungcheol already stood in his kitchen. Preparing the breakfast he had ordered. In a new set of clothes and a damp hair.

“How's your head? The shower helps right? I got some light porridge for breakfast.”

Even in a white T-shirt and beige pants, Seungcheol looks stunning. You steel yourself to brought up the words you want to say. Almost spending an hour in his bathroom, you had been filling it with some thinking. About last night and your feelings. How the flashing images of the kiss you share sends enough butterfly on your stomach that you had to grip the cold marble counter for it.

So midway through finishing your bowl of porridge and a side of warm tea, you called for Seungcheol's attention. The man by your side immediately raises his head, Kkuma dozing comfortably on his lap. Like a permanent accessory.

“About last night,” Seungcheol has his eyes focused on you, as you're trying to find the right words to say. “I might be drunk and might not be in the right state of mind. But i would be lying if i say that kissing you was a mistake. Because, I think i like you. And i don’t want you to think that the kiss was just, you know. A one time thing. Or worse, a mistake.”

The inside of your stomach would like to vacate its vessel. And it’s not caused by the hangover. The way Seungcheol continues to stare at you is as if you’ve grown a third ear.

For what feels like a decade, Seungcheol broke the silence with a big heave of the breath he’s been unknowingly holding. One hand flew up to cover the big smile that blooms. Bigger than the feeling of relief as if a two ton weight has been lifted from your shoulder.

“You think you like me?” Seungcheol has this teasing tone in his words, you can only bite your lower lip to prevent the big grin that’s fighting to come out. “Well this is awkward because I am quite sure I like you. What are we going to do with this?”

Kkuma whines softly when she's placed down to the chair. Now vacated as Seungcheol already stood and step closer to you. Your eyes trained to Seungcheol’s every move, you tried your best to held back the racing heartbeat. Possibly loud enough for Seungcheol to hear now that he's towering over you. Toned arms caging you to your seat.

His eyes inviting you to recreate your last night’s activity.

“You know I have to go to work right?” You murmured.

“I know. You wouldn’t missed work for anything. That far, i do know.”

A lazy smile blooms on Seungcheol’s face, he raises his hand to caress the hair that has fallen to your face. You shamefully fixated your eyes to his hand—fingers. Knowing that Seungcheol has his own eyes to you.

The event last night truly unlocking a whole new level of push and pull between the two of you. And you don’t know if you’ll survive through it. You might not be strong enough to resist the man in front of you.

With a chuckle, Seungcheol picked up your empty bowl and making his way to the sink. Picking up his along the way. Of course he didn’t forget to flash you a cheeky smile along the way.

You follow his steps, making beeline to the sink and get yourself comfortable leaning on the counter beside Seungcheol. Small little footsteps can be heard following you. Seungcheol laughs when he spotted Kkuma right after you. Muttering how he almost feels jealous.

“You know? Hansol recently talks to me about you.” Seeing the calmness in your stead, Seungcheol continues, “he also tells me about you. Your relationship with him. Even last night he texted me. It seems like he wants to ask me more about you. But he beats around the bush.”

As you sighed with a pout, Seungcheol only shrugged lightly to you. Finishing on the last dishes to rinse.

“I’m not telling this to bother you. I’m only telling you because, well I don’t want to keep secret from you.”

“Even after years, i still don’t know what to feel. About Hansol. He’s like someone far away that doesn’t even know i exist, yet i harbored too many resentments on him. Undeservedly. Sometimes i feel angry, another time it’s jealousy. At other time i felt happy when i saw the picture of his graduation. Imagine my surprise when i saw him on your doorstep. And then him, calling my name.” Seeing the apologetic look on Seungcheol’s eyes, you immediately shot him down. The words died before it went past his lips.

“Hansol, he just came back from the US. He’s been there to help produce an album. For almost two years.”

“Has he lived here long?”

“Well i met him when he’s already in the same studio as i was. That was when i’m on the last years of college. Then we got closer as we signed to the same music company.” You merely nodded at the new knowledge. Adding it to a box named Hansol by the corner of your mind. Completely oblivious to the look Seungcheol is sending you. A fine mixture of fondness and nostalgia.

“That…s great. I guess,” you huffed exasperatedly. Once again lost in your own leaping thought. Reminding you of why swimming deep into your work is your choice to drowned out any conflicting thoughts from your past.

The hand resting on the counter are quickly held by Seungcheol. A form of reassurance you have found both comforting and revving up your heartbeat. Unnecessarily at times.

“I said it last night. And I will say it again. Your feelings are valid. No matter how small you feel. Or confused you are. I am happy to be around and be a constant reminder and help you to feel better about yourself. Because you are. Much better than how much you give yourself credits for. Believe me.”

It took you years to quit your obsession with your half-brother. Validating your mood swings that plagued your young years. Regrets and mistakes in memories of your mother. Long long time to found yourself where you are now. Grounded and for a moment that it's worth, Seungcheol’s word brings you peace. It sets you free.

\\

A new sight welcomes you. In a form of Seungcheol, comfortably clad in a big varsity jacket and as cuddly as he could. He welcomes you when you dragged your feet out from the office.

Among the mass of people trying to get home, you smiled as you feel your steps went lighter as you make your way to him. As if you’re pulled to him.

“Hi there, have any plan for tonight?”

“As a matter of fact, i do. With my soft duvet and blackout shades.”

A pout instantly appeared on Seungcheol’s face upon your reply. A sight you found delightful each time you see it.

“How about i offer you better plan? The night is still young.” On extended hand, Seungcheol smiles to lure you.

It took you no time to take it in yours.

Seungcheol took no time to drag you off into the night. On a sunset car ride. To a place he explained as his workplace. He jokingly warns you not to freak out if you see any celebrities. But your reply only sends Seungcheol further into your charm.

“Don’t worry i don’t pay attention to any celebrities. I only got my eyes on you.”

Seungcheol almost forgot that the two of you are currently on an elevator in his agency building. He could just trap you between the metal wall and kiss you to his heart’s content.

Unfortunately he found a sliver of restraint.

His hand never left yours as you traveled through long white hallway. There are faint rhythmical thumps can be heard on each door you both walk passed. Eventually you arrived at a door, plastered with big decal stickers spelled ‘S.Coups’.

His studio welcomes you, as clean yet as homely as you had imagined. Quite big as to accomodate the recording equipments and a few shelves filled with trinkets. The studio does feel like another home for Seungcheol. Maybe that’s why you felt a sense of the same coziness you felt from his apartment.

Seungcheol invites you to join him on the couch, patting the empty space beside him. You waste no time to abandon your bag to the floor and snuggle close to him. Seungcheol already has his arms around yours. Going through netflix to browse anything interesting to watch on the big widescreen projected across the studio.

���I have a feeling you sometimes spend a night here.” You muttered against the soft wooly materials of Seungcheol’s jacket. The softness reminded you of something you own.

“Night? Try days.” You can feel Seungcheol’s chest rumbled as he chuckles out his answer. He then continues, “speaking of spending days here. I have to warn you just in case. Hansol has been sleeping in his studio for a few days. The pipe in his old apartment suddenly burst. A few days after he came back from US.”

“Is he— alright?”

“Don’t worry, he’s built like a tank. He only needs place to stay while his apartment is getting fixed. That’s why he’s at my house that day.” Seungcheol cupped your chin to turn your face to him. “I just don’t want you to be surprised just in case we bumped into him. Wouldn’t want you to run off from me.”

“When have i—”

Your cheeky smile is quickly wiped when Seungcheol brought your face closer to his and planted a kiss on your lips. Quickly, you reply with the same fervor as your own hand traveled up to his jacket’s lapel and found your anchor there. Seungcheol pulls you closer— bringing you in for another kiss, breathing in your little gasp as Seungcheol easily positioned you to straddle him. Good thing that you have tight hold to him.

You haven’t cared to admit, but the hold he has on you is escalating at an astronomical rate it almosy flungs you up to the stratosphere. It got you fixated on Seungcheol’s every move and admire each flex of his face muscle that forms his dimple.

Ok maybe not only his face muscle.

You took the time to admire his other muscles altogether. Running your hand along his broad shoulder, you didn’t hesitate to bunch the fabric of his T-shirt and give it a tug. Seungcheol is quick to respond with a groan as he chases your lips further. You took a deep breath, willing your body be closer to him, impossibly. Melding your torso as you moved your hands to circle around Seungcheol’s neck when he begins to take off his jacket.

The heat escalade around the two of you.

Until his phone vibrate by the small coffee table. Quiet buzz can be heard behind you.

“Seungcheol, you have a call.” You whispered slowly, lips barely leaving each other. The man in front of you huffed with a smirk. His hold never falters, growing warmer with every second.

“I am aware of that.” Seungcheol replies, hurried words as he still chasing your lips. Equally whispering, his deep voice hums across your lips.

“What if it’s something important?”

“More than this?”

Sometimes, you hate being levelheaded.

You obviously dislike pulling away from Seungcheol’s lips. The sentiment mirrored by Seungcheol. Swiftly reaching out behind your back to his phone, the device still buzzing in your grip as you handed it to Seungcheol.

When the man under you groans, you begin to regret your decision. You hate it more that Seungcheol is too observant of your reaction. You shamefully biting your lower lip, staring intently as Seungcheol eventually accepts the call on his phone. His gaze boring to yours, his hand freely roamed the small of your back.

You have to admit that none of the conversation registered to your ears. So when Seungcheol ended his calls and readjust his hold to you, who still conveniently straddling his lap, you instinctively loop your arm around his neck.

“I have to meet the CEO now.” When your eyes rounded in surprise. Eventually discerning his words, Seungcheol only chuckles before pecking your lips. “I hope you’re happy. For making me take that call.”

“Wait, do you actually have to go?”

“Don’t miss me too much dear. I’ll try to be quick.”

Seungcheol leaves you no time to register the term of endearment he just addressed you with. It took you with the same surprise as he maneuvers easily to flip you around. Your yelp followed by the thud as you landed on your back against the sofa. Seungcheol still grinning devilishly. He leaves you with a quick peck and letting you know to his mini fridge in case you feel like snacking.

When the door clicking close, you slumped into the sofa. Feeling childish at the amount of regret you developed for letting Seungcheol take that call. Quickly brushing away the thought, you rose from the sofa and decided to take a closer look around the studio.

The big shelf stood on one side of the wall are full of little trinkets that’s best described as a look inside Seungcheol’s life. Picture frames, old baseball, and many signed memorabilia from possibly the biggest star that you could have imagined. Yet you’re oblivious to them.

It brought a smile to your face when you can spot Seungcheol smiling in almost all of the picture you see. With Kkuma, his friends, family, and much more of him in a new light that you’ve never seen before. One picture caught your attention, Seungcheol are clad in the same varsity jacket, arm slung to what seems to look like a younger Hansol, with longer tuft of messy brown hair and braces. There’s two other people in the picture but your eyes fixated on the two.

Just how long they’ve been known each other? If you had continued your attention towards Hansol, would you have known about Seungcheol back then?

The sound of the studio door unlocking caught your attention.

You were ecstatic to welcomes Seungcheol back but the door opens to another person.

“Seungcheol hyung, can i have some of—”

In retrospect, it’s a good thing that Seungcheol actually warned you earlier. Because right now, Hansol stood right there, just a mere meters before you. Without looking in the mirror you’re convinced that the look in both of your face are the same. Like a fish gasping for air.

Eventually Hansol snapped out of his stupor, shaking his head before averting his eyes. With both of his hands clenched, Hansol about to pivoted on his feet and hurried to make his way out of the studio. But not before you called out to him. Your mouth ran faster before you could pull the brake. But no use crying over spilled milk.

“I— i’m sorry if i make you uncomfortable that day. I heard that you were crashing at Seungcheol’s place and well— i just feel like i need to say sorry to you.” Throughout your words, Hansol went visibly rigid. A frown has settled in his face as time goes by, but you continue on to voice your words. “Also, i hope your sister are okay that day. She was wandering around and i—”

“Please— stop,” Hansol voice is small. Almost sound so choked up it surprises even himself. “Please just, stop. Please.”

When you took an instinctive step towards Hansol, the man staggers backward before eventually leaves the room in such hurries. You could never forgot the face he made as he left. It burns the same as the memories of your young. But unlike the smiles that you followed.

After Hansol left, you feel like you could count the seconds but at the same time, your mind couldn’t tear itself off of the image of Hansol. Leaving you with such pain visible in his frame. Eventually you were so lost in your thought that you didn’t even hear Seungcheol returning to the studio in grins.

Instantly the sight brought a small smile to your face. Seungcheol doesn’t waste any time to cuddle you on the sofa. Getting himself comfortable as he lay snug in your arms. You can’t help the giggle that escaped your lips as you do the same. Shifting in your seat to accommodate Seungcheol’s big frame to fit your hold. It doesn’t surprise you that he enjoys being a little spoon.

The frequent appearance of pout on his lips are one of the sign.

“What were you doing while i was gone?” Seungcheol starts, his fingers are making quick to the remote. Still in a mission to search a movie to watch on netflix.

“Hmm, not much. Hansol came here.” To this, Seungcheol immediately straighten up from your hold. A pair of confused and widened eyes scanning your face for answer. You smiles at his reaction. “He left almost immediately though. Not before looking like he’s somewhat in pain.”

Seungcheol hands quickly cups your head and hugs you close. Leaning into his touch felt like the most natural thing to do. Letting the warmth envelope you whole while at the same time calming your thought and lifted up your mood.

“Do you need me to talk to him?” Seungcheol voiced out, instantly you shook your head.

“No. I will talk to him myself if there’s a problem. I’m just more worried and confused. We just met and Hansol looks at me like that.”

Sensing your somewhat unsettled mood, Seungcheol determined to make you feel better. He flashes a grin to your questioning gaze as he suddenly vacate his spot. Opening the hidden drawer under his big desk, Seungcheol came back to your side with abundant of snacks in his hold.

A familiar sight of your favourite coffee bun immediately caught your attention. Eyes widening in surprise upon the sight of the rare treats.

“How did you have these! I love this.” You exclaimed. Seungcheol beside you are busy opening what looks to be a melon bread and a few more spread of pastries on to the table.

“Oh, now i know what to watch.” Seungcheol exclaimed, grinning at the sight of you munching lightly on your indulgent treat. “Nanny McPhee, how about that?”

“Now are you spoiling me? Favourite treat and then movie?”

“I know. Aren’t i just the best, huh?” You tried to maintain a straight face as Seungcheol playfully winks at you. Yet you can’t help to reply back by frowning at him.

As the movie starts you can feel yourself getting calmer. Your previously distraught mind is now filled with warmth and playful smile from Seungcheol. While the man has his eyes forward, you carefully scan him. A wisp of smile on your face to the sight you have familiarize enough in your heart. Each time Seungcheol has managed to surprise you with encouraging words to validate your feelings, as well as every little acts that sets your heartbeat faster.

“You know, i noticed that we used to go to the same college. I saw your old photo with varsity jacket. The same one you wore today. I just realized that.” You pointed out, eyes focusing as the opening narration begins to fade with whimsical music. “I might not be an avid almamater, but I have a varsity scarf myself. I love them.”

Wordlessly, Seungcheol took you to his arms. Another attempt to cuddle comfortably and let the familiar movie lulls the both of you deeper into the house full of children wrecking havoc. He’s heard you mentioned this movie a few times. At first denying that it was your favourite comfort movie. But as times passed and Seungcheol pointed out you begin to admit so. With a sheepish grin and endless teasing in that afternoon.

With his eyes forward as he tries to immerse himself with the colourful old english countryside, Seungcheol’s thought remain on your words. His memories flow like the quiet river. He decided that to let it remain untouched.

“Well i used to go there, but i never graduated sadly. I think i enjoyed too many free time that i have, going in and out the studio as i like and getting rewarded for things i used to do just for my hobby.” Seungcheol’s admittance is followed by a wisp of smile, somehow you can feel it entirety on your mind.

“But don’t you love it now?” Seungcheol fears you can feel the thump in his heart so he stutters out a laugh. Looking up to him, you smiles before kissing him softly. Humming along the now softer thrum in his vein as he capture your lips in reply.

“I’ve grown to,” Seungcheol only pulls back enough far enough. Half lidded as he kept his lips hovering above yours. “All the culmination of it, is what makes me here now. With you.”

\\

prev chapter || next chapter

[wwooyology]

Prove It To You | J.YH

「pairing」 : yunho x fem!reader 「word count」 : 3.5k

「synopsis」 : you could feel the end of your relationship coming, and yunho saw his opportunity to finally take his chances to show you just how much better he was than that asshole you called your boyfriend.

「genre」 : frat boy!yunho, uni au, angst, a small bit of fluff, smut

「warning」 : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!, cussing, kissing, infidelity, unprotected sex, dom!yunho x sub!reader, slight size kink, big dick!yunho, biting/marking, fingering, clit play, breast play, teasing, begging, yunho is just a little bit possessive, petnames (baby, darling, sweetheart, my love), semi-rough sex, multiple orgasms, praising, creampie, readers bf hears from the other room, sloppy makeout, lmk if I missed anything!

「notes」 : tbh this idea stemmed from a memory of something similar that happened to me, except it wasn't a guy I was dating. it was a guy that I was crushing on, but sadly I didn't have a yunho back then </3

It was maybe close to three in the morning, and you were still awake as your so-called boyfriend slept peacefully on his bed. You had tagged along with him and your other friends who lived in the frat house to hang out; however, as soon as the others excused themselves to either leave or go to bed, you were left alone with him. At first, you thought you two could watch a movie before going to bed, but he just hummed while scrolling through his phone. He lay in bed while you sat on the ground.

“Just put on whatever you want.” His tone was uninterested as you turned to look at him and he didn’t even take a moment to look at you.

Defeated, you just put on a random show to watch, knowing that he wouldn’t pay attention to anything. You had planned a whole night for the two of you after everyone had left, seeing as he had been out of town with his family for the past two weeks. Yet now he acted as if you were the least important thing to him.

The movie hadn’t even played halfway through when you heard his soft snores behind you; looking over your shoulder, you saw that he was sprawled out all over the queen-sized bed. Letting out a huff, you rolled your eyes before going back to the movie.

Until you started to get tired, but you didn’t really feel like sleeping in the same bed as your boyfriend right now. However, you also couldn’t just leave because you had ridden in with your boyfriend, and everyone was already asleep.

You stood to your feet before bending down and grabbing your phone off of the ground, then walking out of the room, not bothering to turn anything off. The house was quiet, which was a strange thing to you because the frat house was always lively, but you just shrugged it off before carefully making your way down the stairs. Getting to the first floor, you looked around the dark room with the small light of your phone’s lock screen and made your way to the front door.

Unlocking the door, you pulled it open and slipped out of the house. As soon as you stepped outside, you were met with the harsh, cold winter winds, causing you to shiver. Shutting the door, you walked over to the step, sat down, and pulled your phone out again.

Opening the screen, you thought about using the rideshare app to get a ride back to the dorms, but it was a Friday night, and it was late at night, so you quickly closed the app once more. You debated walking back, but you were all the way across campus, and once again, it was late.

“Fucking hell.” You cursed quietly as you shoved your hands into the pockets of your coat along with your phone as the cold started to settle into your bones.

Leaning against the railings, you just watched as a few cars drove by, and you could feel yourself starting to drift off. Your eyes fluttered closed once more, and you hadn’t even heard the front door open behind you.

“Why are you trying to sleep outside?” His voice startled you right awake, and your whole body twisted as you looked up at Yunho. He stood just a few feet behind you with his arms crossed over his chest, his hair a mess, making you believe that he had just woken up. Your heart beat rapidly against your ribcage as you looked at him. Ever since you had been introduced to him, there has been an unspoken attraction, but you never act on it because of your boyfriend.

Swallowing thickly, you turned away, “I’d rather sleep out here than in there.” Your voice was soft as you pulled your knees to your chest, your skirt riding up your hips.

Yunho eyed you carefully before stepping forward and taking a seat next to you, leaving a comfortable space between your bodies. You looked over at him for a moment before turning back to look at the empty street.

“I figured you would be cozy in bed with fuckface.” You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at his choice words knowing very well that Yunho and your boyfriend never got along, but you had no idea why.

After a few moments, you inhaled deeply before breathing out, watching your breath fog in the air. “I would be, but he seemed to be more interested in whatever was on his phone than me.” You let out a short laugh before looking over at Yunho, who was staring at you with an unreadable expression.

Yunho’s jaw tightened as he looked at you. He wasn’t sure how anyone could treat you so harshly. If your boyfriend wasn’t just bluntly ignoring you, he was short and seemed uninterested in doing anything that involved you unless it was with your group of friends. Yunho hated it and had believed that he could treat you so much better, but you never left that asshole; far too kind to end things.

But tonight, Yunho had enough, and he was determined to show you that you deserved so much more.

“Yunho?” You called out to the tall male, waving a hand in front of his face, trying to snap him out of whatever daze he had fallen into.

A gasp fell from your lips when he grabbed your wrist, pulling you into him. Your other hand flew out to catch yourself, landing right on his thigh. With wide eyes, you looked up to ask him what he was doing, but he cut you off as his lips smashed into yours. His tongue swiped over your lips, the sweet taste of your lipgloss invading his taste buds. It wasn’t until his hand wrapped around the back of your neck that you pushed away from him with wide eyes.

“We can’t.” Your voice was quiet, eyes glued to your lap, and Yunho let out a deep sigh. He leaned forward, laying his forehead against yours.

“Forget about that jerk, y/n; he doesn’t deserve you.” He told you, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip, and you looked up at him with misty eyes. “Let me take care of you. Let me show you how you deserve to be treated. Please.”

Your brain turned into a warzone as you stared into his eyes, contemplating the repercussions of your action. There was no love in your relationship with your boyfriend anymore, and you were sure that he would take the first chance he could to leave you.

Yunho was so much more than he was, and deep down, you knew that; he was always attentive to your needs and cared more than your boyfriend has ever in the entirety of your relationship. The only thing that held you back was you were too scared to leave your boyfriend, but now you couldn't care less. If he wasn’t going to care for you correctly, Yunho would.

And that’s all it took for you to lean forward to seal your lips over Yunho’s once more.

Yunho’s grip on your neck tightened, pulling you closer to his body, wanting you as close as physically possible. Your lips were soft against his and tasted like sweet cherries; it was driving him nuts. Once the both of you were out of air, you pulled apart, a small string of saliva still connecting your lips.

“Let’s go inside.” Yunho rasped, and you quickly nodded before standing up with him and following him back into the house.

As soon as you were inside his bedroom, Yunho’s lips were back on yours, stealing all the air from your lungs. His hands cupped your face as he stepped back, leading you to his bed. You let out a gasp when the back of your knees hit the edge of his bed, and you fell back.

Yunho chuckled before crawling over your body, trapping you with his and bringing his lips back down to yours. His tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring every inch, trying to memorize every part. Your hands moved up to wrap around his shoulders, pulling him even closer to you.

“God, I can’t even tell you how long I’ve waited for this.” He groaned against your lips as your hips rolled up, brushing against his growing erection. Heat pooled in your core, and the pressure was almost unbearable as he moved away to look down at you.

“Yunho.” You whined softly, hands tugging at his shirt, causing him to smirk, his hand moving to grab your chin.

“What do you want, baby?” He asked, pulling your attention back to him, and he felt his dick twitch in his sweat at the needy and lustful look in your eyes.

“You. I just want you.” You breathed out, wrapping your hand around his wrist as you looked up at him.

“How could I tell you no when you look so desperate.” He teased, his thumb brushing over your swollen lips before moving his hands down to your skirt. “But I gotta prep you first, darling.”

You opened your mouth to protest but the sharp look he gave you instantly had you closing your lips once more. Yunho then unzipped your skirt before pulling it down your legs and throwing it somewhere in his room. Not even seconds after the cloth left his hand he grabbed your shirt, telling you to sit up and pulling it off.

Yunho felt like his body was about to combust at the sight of your pretty lace lilac lingerie, the cloth hugging your curves in all of the right places. You felt small under his gaze as he continued to stare at you, his fingers tracing along the seams. A soft moan fell from your lips when he brushed over your erect nipple.

“Did you wear this for him?” His voice was low as he leaned over your body again, face inches away from yours, and you just looked up at him with hooded eyes.

“It’s for you now.” You cooed, cupping his face as you looked up at him, brushing your thumb over his bottom lip.

Yunho smirks, his large hand grabbing your waist, causing your back to arch up, giving him just enough room to unclasp your bra. Once the piece of clothing was off of your body and off somewhere in the room, Yunho’s lips latched onto your collarbone.

He left a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down your chest until he got to your soft mounds. A sharp moan fell from your lips when he took one of your buds into his mouth. Yunho took his time with your chest, marking almost every inch of skin he possibly could, relishing in the sounds that left your pretty lips.

“Yunho…” You whined, back arching against him as his hand slipped under your underwear, cupping your wet heat. The feeling of his hands on your body was electrifying, like nothing that you’ve felt before.

“Already so wet for me,” He groaned against your skin, moving up to your neck as his slender fingers pressed against your clit.

A choked moan fell from your lips as he started to circle your sensitive bud, his lips pressing wet kisses along your jugular. He soaked in all of the noises you made as your fingers tugged at his shirt; he was determined to make sure that you only knew his name.

“Yu–” You were cut off when he slipped a finger into your tight cunt, brushing over spots that you’ve never been able to reach. Tears pricked at your eyes as he kept a steady pace, watching you closely and studying all of the expressions you made.

“You’re so tight, sweetheart. I’m not sure you’ll be able to take me.” He pouted as he added a second finger, stretching you out and pulling another moan from your swollen lips.

“I-I can take it, I promise!” You choked out, looking up at him with so much need, and your hand wrapped around the back of his neck.

“You’re such a good little thing, aren’t you?” He hummed, picking up his pace after adding a third finger. 

You’ve never felt this full before, and your high was right on the tip of your tongue; you just needed a little bit more. Noticing, Yunho pressed his thumb against your clit, circling the nub in time with his thrusts causing your eyes to roll back as you came undone.

“Yunho!”  You cried out his name as he worked you through your orgasm, his lips pressing against your temple.

“I’ve got you, baby. Let it all go.” He spoke softly, his pace slowing to a stop, and you lay there breathing heavily. Yunho pulled his fingers from your soaping cunt, and wrapped them around the flimsy fabric before pulling them down your legs.

Your body still felt like it was on fire, the burning need for more almost suffocating as you sat up. A chuckle left Yunho’s mouth as you tugged at his shirt, begging him to take it off.

“You’re so cute when you’re all needy.” He cooed as he pulled his shirt over his head and pulled his sweats down his hips, letting them pool on the ground.

Your eyes went wide, seeing the outline of his cock under his boxers; he was big. Noticing your expression, Yunho grabbed your chin and pulled your eyes back to his. Leaning forward before he sealed your lips in another kiss as he laid you back down, hands traveling down to your hips.

He pulled away for a moment, but you tried to pull him back, not getting enough of his taste, and he pressed a kiss on the corner of your lips, “Hold on, I need to grab a condom.” He then moved to make a grab at his nightstand, but you quickly sat up, grabbing his arm.

“No! I want to feel all of you, Yun, please.” You pleaded with him, your bottom lip jutting out as you looked at him. He looked back at you in shock, wondering if he had heard you correctly. “I’m on the pill, please.”

Yunho felt like he could cum right then and there at the thought of fucking you raw, but then he started to wonder if you let your boyfriend fuck you raw too. Noticing the conflict in his eyes, you reached up, cupping his face.

“He’s never fucked me without a condom, just you.” Your voice was soft, and Yunho looked at you for a long moment before his lips crashed into yours once more.

“I love you, fuck. I love you so much.” He told you, and he tugged his boxers down, letting his aching cock spring free. He pulled your hips closer to his, not once leaving your lips in the process, even swallowing all of your moans as he teased your entrance with his tip.

“Fuck! Yunho, please!” You whined, rolling your hips, trying to get him to push in already, and he smirked.

He watched your face contort in pleasure as he started to push into your wet cunt, splitting you open, and you gasped out. You started to question whether or not you would actually be able to take him as tears started to spill from the corner of your eyes.

“C’mon, sweetheart, you said you could take it.” Yunho teased as he continued to push into you, and you choked out his name.

“I can– fuck!” You cried, wanting to be good and take all of him, and Yunho watched in amusement as you brought your hand up to cover your mouth as your moans got louder.

Yunho was almost fully in when you grabbed his wrist that was beside you, your brain going hazy at the sudden fullness. Incoherent babbles fell from your lips, and Yunho chuckled as he took in your already fucked out state.

“I’m not even fully in you yet, and I’ve already fucked you stupid.” He sat up a bit to grab your hips, using the leverage to push the rest of the way in. A choked moan fell from your lips at the sudden movement, your eyes rolling back. “God, you feel so fucking good, sweetheart.” He groaned, fighting off the urge to move, wanting you to get adjusted first.

“Y-Yunho…” You breathed out; all of your nerves felt like they were on fire, but it still wasn’t enough. “Fuck me, please!” Your eyes cracked open, gazing up at him with a teary gaze and Yunho felt the last bit of his composure crumble away.

“My pleasure, baby.” He growled before pulling out and slamming back into you, eliciting a loud moan.

Yunho’s pace was relentless, allowing no room for you to breathe, and stars danced across your vision. Your moans were bouncing off the walls, and Yunho was sure that the neighbors could hear how good he was fucking you. Then he suddenly remembered that your boyfriend was still asleep in the next room, and a sinister smirk spread across his face.

“You’re mine now, sweetheart.” He told you, leaning down to press a kiss against your jaw, and you nodded your head, all words lost to you. Kissing his way up to your ear, he nipped at your earlobe, causing your body to shiver, and another broken moan fell from your lips. “Tell me who you belong to, baby.”

“You,”

“Say my name,” Yunho growled, pulling away to pick up his pace once more, and you let out a pitiful squeak.

“Yunho.” You cried out, fingers wrapping around his wrist as your head fell back when he brushed over your sweet spot.

However, that wasn’t good enough for Yunho, “louder.”

“Yunho!” His name fell from your lips even louder than last time, but again, it wasn’t quite enough for the male.

“Louder!”

“YUNHO!” You screamed his name when he pressed down on your clit, causing stars to cloud your vision, your high right around the corner.

A triumphant smile spread across Yunho’s face when he heard movement on the other side of the wall, knowing full well that your boyfriend had heard you. The smile was soon wiped away, replaced with a groan as you tightened around his swollen cock.

“Fuck!” He cursed as he felt his own high creep up on him, and he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, especially if you kept squeezing him like that.

“Yun, ‘m close!” You cried out, back arching off of the bed as the knot in the pit of your stomach tightened.

“It’s okay, sweetheart, cum for me. Make a mess all over my cock.” His words were the last push you needed before you came all over his cock. He groaned as he looked down to see the milky white ring forming around the base of his cock.

“Yunho!” You cried out as he continued to fuck into you at his merciless pace, white spots littering your vision as he abused your sweet spot.

“I’m almost there, baby, just a little bit more.” He cooed, leaning down to capture your lips with his in a sweet kiss as his thrusts became sloppy before he shook in your hold as he came, painting your velvet walls white. “F-Fucking hell.”

Coming down from your highs, Yunho laid on your chest after he pulled out. Both of you just lay there as you tried to catch your breath, your fingers running through Yunho’s hair as he held you close.

You were then snapped out of your trance when you heard movement in the next room, realizing that your boyfriend’s room was right next to Yunho’s, and your heart dropped. Noticing the change in your mood, Yunho lifted his head, resting his chin on your chest.

“What’s wrong, my love?” He asked, and your heart swelled at the endearing pet name.

“I think he heard everything,” You whispered as you glanced down at him, worry written all over your features and Yunho let out a sigh before pushing himself up until he was hovering over you once again.

“He definitely heard something, but it’s his loss. You’re mine now.” He told you before leaning down and kissing you once again, his kiss filled with so much love and need it pushed all other thoughts away.

After a few moments he pulled away, cupping your face in his hand, his thumb brushing over your cheek. You wrapped your hand around his wrist as you looked up at him with a soft smile, soaking in all of the affection he was giving you. Pulling him back down, your eyes fluttered closed as his lips brushed over yours.

“I’m all yours.” You confirmed his statement before sealing the kiss, all thoughts of your ex-boyfriend no longer clouding your mind. It was all replaced with Yunho and the feeling of his lips and body on yours, showering you with all of the love and appreciation that you deserved.

@wwooyology | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

[kamitv]

▷ Holiday Headcanons

Synopsis . Things your jjk partner does during the holidays! / Pairings . (Separate) Gojo x f!reader, Geto x f!reader, Toji x f!reader, Sukuna x f!reader, Ino x f!reader, Yuki x f!reader, Shoko x f!reader, Choso x f!reader, Nanami x f!reader / Content . afab!reader, established relationships, modern au, fluff, creampies, soft sex, rough sex, filth, breeding, bondage, choking, oral sex, praise, dirty talk, sfw content, etc . / wc . idk ngl...!

A/N: Merry Christmas Ladies & Gentlemen! This isn’t proofread so please excuse any errors. Thank you guys sm for 7k on this account!! I hope you all have a wonderful day/night!! <33 [MDNI]

❅ Gojo Satoru

NSFW

Who's first present to you comes early in the morning at the ass crack of dawn, consisting of his warm breath caressing the shell of your ear as he rasps a needy plead—aching to get a taste of you to start his Christmas off "properly."

Naturally, you let Gojo get what he wants since that’s one less gift you have to worry about. That, and it’s a gift that just keeps on giving because as soon as he’s settled in between your legs, he’s smiling from ear to ear and swallowing down the drool that threatens to spill past his eager lips.

And when he finally latches that heavenly mouth of his onto you? Oh it’s over. He’s so glad he woke up early for this because nothing could pull him away from the honeyed slick of your cunt at this very moment—not even the perfectly wrapped presents awaiting the two of you just out in your shared living room.

Part of what has him so feral once his tongue is on you is probably the lacy festive blue panties you decided to sleep with. They match his eyes and there’s this pretty bow in the center… unfortunately, he was too caught up on trying to get your pussy against his tongue to admire the fabric longer. Now the garment lays in tatters just a few inches away from your quivering legs that dangle so prettily over his shoulders.

SFW

Had a snowball fight with you seconds after the first speck of white came falling from the sky.

Who spent weeks making sure that every inch of your shared home was adorned in pretty festive decorations.

Has literally bought you all that you couldn't think of and more for the special day. Gift after gift awaits you in that overly decorated living room of yours.

Adores this day and season because he has another excuse to spoil the fuck out of you. It’s no big deal that he bought you a vacation home or two… right? And the three vehicles he purchased were only necessary since you’d mentioned how much you liked them one time (around six months ago or something—not that he kept track or anything…) as the model drove by…

❅ Geto Suguru

NSFW

With Suguru, it’s actually you who’s extra freaky around Christmas. Sure, you love the festivities and everything but what/who do you love even more than that? Your husband. Or, more specifically, the thick cock he gifts you with all year long.

How could you not spend Christmas night with Geto’s dick sliding in and out of your mouth—having told him some measly excuse about how the mistletoe is hanging in the back of your throat this year and there’s only one way to share a kiss beneath it properly..!

Your glossy eyes remain up on his darkened purple ones and he looks so fucking grateful to have you. Geto stands with parted lips and bated breath as he watches you use that slutty mouth of yours to worship every inch of his pretty cock. You’ve got drool and spit dripping all down your chin but you don’t seem to have a care in the world. Hell, you probably don’t even have a thought in that cockdrunk head of yours right now either.

Geto even tries to pull himself out of your mouth (so he can catch a small break) only for you to let off a needy whine of his name and chase after him—latching your lips and tongue onto his oh-so-sensitive drooling tip just to suckle on him like you can’t function properly without his cock resting against your lips (and hey, maybe you can’t).

SFW

Impresses your parents on Christmas day flawlessly with the most perfect gifts for them (he unintentionally outdoes your gifts).

Spoils you like crazy with more than just gifts by being at your beck and call a bit more than usual. He’s always attentive but on Christmas he seems to he even moreso than normal.

Who lets you style his hair however you want with ribbons and bows while actively wearing a poorly made Christmas sweater the two of you made the year prior to the current.

Loves playing Christmas themed games with you because they remind him of playing games with Satoru (who occasionally joins the two of you around this time). You’re just as competitive as he is and even the most simple games turn into full on competitive events between the two of you.

❅ Toji Fushiguro

NSFW

It’s not until Christmas night that you get your real present from Mr. Fushiguro, your doting husband of God knows how many years now.

Watching you care and love on Megumi and Tsumiki all day was just the push he needed to later want to fuck yet another child into that gorgeous body of yours.

It started off as him being all soft with you, giving you that big bear hug from behind as he murmured into your ear—asking you if you enjoyed this year’s Christmas ‘n whatnot… only to lead to him casually suggesting that you two make the family a bit larger. Later rasping into your ear again, this time while you’re folded into a mind-numbing mating press, about how it’s time to give you your last present of the day.

His cock is throbbing more than normal too, whole body tense with a coarse mix of lust and love that he has for you. Oh how he could never truly get over the sight of you all under him like this with your eyes flickering back, nails clawing against his skin, and sweet softened moans of his name spilling from your lips.

It’s not long before the headboard is making not-so-subtle taps against the wall as he loses himself within the warm gushing depths of your cunt, fat cockhead only swelling more and more when you have the gall to utter the words, “Y-Yeah.. hnngh, fuck another b-baby into me, Toji,” And who ever is he to deny you of such a request?

SFW

Spends most of the day trying to bite back his smile as he watched his two kids open presents you bought for them. Their eyes light up with each gift and Toji’s poor heart only flutters with that uncomfortable warmth of love he can never quite get used to.

Keeps his best poker face on when Tsumiki and Megumi give him a gift. Toji tries to act like the little family drawing the two kids made doesn’t mean anything to him, going as far as laughing at how wonky the artwork is and everything but… the drawing is stuck onto the fridge the very second after the kids turn their head away from him and if anyone paid close enough attention to the big softie—they would’ve spotted his eyes glossing over ever so slightly.

You always get him the best gifts. Or at least, that’s what Toji tells you. Whether it be cologne or simply just a plate of Christmas breakfast in the morning—the man swears his wife outdoes herself every year. What would he do without you?

Doesn’t care too much for the snow but seeing you build snowmen and make snow-angels with his kids will always make him stand out in the crisp cold air for moments longer than he normally ever would. Usually with a hot cup of coffee in his hand, standing all mysteriously and brooding by the front door of your shared home as he watches you three run around and make fools of yourself—anyone who looks at him at the right second would catch a little grin quirking against those scared lips of his.

❅ Sukuna Ryomen

NSFW

As soon as the clock strikes twelve and Christmas has hit, he’s grabbing every red ribbon of fabric in the vicinity and wrapping his most important present (you) up to his liking.

Sukuna just loves seeing you tied up, especially on Christmas Day. One year he had your arms box-tied at your arched back as your cheeks were buried down into the sheets and his rough tattooed hands scaled along each exposed sliver of your skin. You were, quite literally, his prettiest present every year.

Sometimes you surprised him and tied yourself up in a new way—the sight never once failing to make his cock spring up. Oh and when he fucks you while you’re all tied up? He loses his mind every single time. Which is part of why he doesn’t do this all year long.

Christmas is the only day of the year where he really goes above and beyond with the whole bondage thing. Truth be told, seeing your fingers wiggle for touch and your body twitching for a moment of release as he fucks you to tears is one of his biggest and sole weaknesses in the world. It’s so sexy—especially with the cries of his name that follows along with the pleasing for him to let you touch his body.

Oh, and don’t even get him started on the way you always try wiggling away from him while your limbs are bound, no matter the position. The face you make, the way your cunt spasms—you do it every single time you’re about to cum for the nth time and it drives him fucking insane. Suddenly he can’t help but bully his angry cock into that sensitive sappy spot inside you that you’re so desperately trying to pull away from…

SFW

Definitely dresses up as the Grinch just to terrorize his child nephew, Yuji—who he knows you adore more than anything.

Yeah, you thought it was odd when you woke up on Christmas morning and your husband was nowhere to be found but when you made your way downstairs alongside a five or six year old Yuji to get the morning started… here comes your husband dressed in that iconic furred green suit and red coat—invoking a shriek from the poor boy beside you as he watched his uncle snatch up all the presents from beneath the Christmas tree.

You weren’t sure if you wanted to laugh or scold the man in the moment but either way, the event was memorable nonetheless. In Sukuna’s mind, nothing will ever beat the widening of your eyes and the dramatics that brat beside you displayed over some toys being snatched up.

He’ll never ever say it out loud to anyone aside from you but, he actually quite enjoys Christmas. Or, he has enjoyed it ever since you made him watch The Grinch—hence his antics surrounding the character. Hell, his first comment about that movie was something along the lines of, “Hah. I like the way this guy thinks already.”

Mind you, you were barely even half an hour in.

❅ Ino Takuma

NSFW

On Christmas, it’s just you and him this year so… after all the literal gifts have been opened and all the sweet things have been exchanged……. Ino’s offering his body to you entirely.

Mid-day, you swear you left him in your bedroom for hardly even five minutes only to return to his legs sprawled apart and his hard cock exposed & decorated with a cute bow wrapped around his hefty base. Then his hands are tied behind his back—part of you wondering how he even managed to do that in such a short period of time..

His brown hair is all tousled and his breathing is unsteady already. You’ve seen and felt every inch of him time and time before but offering himself ip to you like this was oh so embarrassing for the poor man. The instant your eyes fall onto his cock, his tip leaks in a messy slip of pre.

Ino can only take a deep breath and try to work up his confidence just to weigh his head to the side and lift a brow, “Well, baby? Merry Christmas. Come unwrap your final present…”

SFW

Ino loves going out with you durning the holiday season. Especially ice skating—even if you’re good or bad at it, he loves being out there on the ice with you.

Something about laughing in the cold until your cheeks burn makes his heart throb within his chest. Ino loves spending this season with you because he swears every small moment feels like a movie when he’s with you.

He definitely still leaves out cookies and milk for Santa and will debate with you for hours on end about how the guy is 100% real.

Goes, “Aww, babbyyyyy..” to literally each and every single gift you give him, soon followed by a sweet, “You didn’t have to get this for mee..!” He’s not ungrateful or anything but, even though you’re his girlfriend of like two years now, he’ll never quite get used to receiving gifts from you & he’s too damn humble for his own good.

❅ Yuki Tsukumo

NSFW

You make the ‘mistake’ of gifting her a strap for Christmas and she makes good use of it that same night.

Practically every position you can imagine & be stretched into—she’s got you in. You always knew your girlfriend had some mean hips on her but when she’s got this lengthy cock strapped onto those hips and she just working the thick ‘n hard inches of the plastic inside you at a brutal pace, you can’t even breathe properly enough to respond to her little comments of, “Aw, look at my girll… takin’ all of me so well, aren’t you pretty?”

Teasing you too with huffs of, “This is the best gift ever, cutie. I mean, hah..” She’d flash that knowing sexy grin of hers, “Jus’ look at this pussy—I don’t think I’ve ever seen her this wet before.”

You’re not too sure if you regret the purchase or if it’s the best thing you’ve ever bought for the woman but either way; in return for buying her that damn strap, Yuki gifts you with the meanest backshots not too long after opening her gift. She’s gotta make sure it works, right?

Hand around your throat, tipping your head back, lustful eye contact, heavy pants of your name, and praises pouring from her blush pink lips—Yuki’s probably never letting this gift go to waste.

SFW

She’s competitive so around this time of year, any winter spot imaginable… you’re playing or participating in with her (and probably losing).

Who loves making snow angels with you and then comparing the sized of the two, making fun of yours even if it were only the slightest bit smaller than her own.

Goes on these insane morning runs with shorts on ‘n everything. You find her bizarre for it and almost died the one time she’d convinced you to go on one with her.

Both of you would definitely give each other the same number of gifts literally every year. It’s always unintentional and completely coincidental but for whatever reason, if you got ten gifts: she got ten. If she got thirty, you got thirty. Even if you got one, she somehow got one as well. It’s silly but it keeps happening and both of you assume it’s the world’s way of telling you you’re perfect for one another.

❅ Shoko Ieiri

NSFW

Ties a bow around her middle and ring finger and gives you this smirk that leads to literally everything else.

It’d be after gifts have been opened and stories have been shared that she’s out by the fireplace with you, knuckle deep in your cunt as your sweet slick trickles down her slender fingers and coats the fabric she has around her digits.

Who doesn’t ever get tired of fingering you and never ever fails to amaze you because somehow her hands never seem to cramp up on her (or maybe that’s just from the years she spent with you but who knows..).

Once she’s satisfied with getting you off numerous times, Shoko will tell you that there’s another bow she wants you to find. That’s how you end up in between her pretty legs, tugging a lacey red bow that was tired around her upper thigh down her leg. And from there, it’s only fair that you enjoy your Christmas dessert that’s presented so deliciously in front of you—especially when she takes those two fingers from earlier and spreads herself open for you. The drool from her cunt matches the drool from your lips—how cute.

SFW

Building snowmen with you is something she cant get enough of. Especially considering the time you both built one another and you’d given her a small stick to resemble the cigarette she’s always got lodged in between her lips.

Who loves going to new cafes with you around this time for whatever reason. Something about the cold just makes her want to try all sorts of different warm beverages and who better to go try these things with than her loving wife?

Goes on a Christmas movie marathon with you because your presence during movies alone is enough to make her heart flutter.

You got her a pack of cigarettes one year as a joke but she actually appreciated it more than you realized. This was earlier on in your relationship and that gift was part of what motivated her to want to quit smoking (well, that & she’d like to live by your side for as long as possible).

❅ Choso Kamo

NSFW

Fucking his cum into you for a few hours is as good as any other gift he’s given you, right? Especially after seeing how you are around his brothers—so kind and doting, you’d make the perfect mother.

Hence the incoherent mutters of Choso wanting you to have his child later that night. All you did was give him the lovestruck look when he suggested it and it was over from there. He couldn’t stop himself from bending you in all sorts of positions, angling his hips into you perfecting and moaning about how desperately he needs you to take everything he gives you.

Who can’t even think straight when you look him in the eyes and praise him for how good he’s funking you—not that this is new or anything… But then you started teasing him. “C’mon Cho, r-right there. Gimme one more, fuck me nice ‘n full—mmgh..” Oh, you were sure to be the cause of his death that night.

He sees white by the time he cums again, something he’ll later tease you about with a stupidly unserious comment of, “Guess we really did have a white Christmas after all, huh?”

SFW

It’s winter so whenever you two walk together, he takes your hand, holds it tightly, and then pulls it into his pocket as the two of you walk together.

Who kinda adores the snow and cold weather for the simple fact that it hides how much he blushes around you and gives him a new excuse to use.

Loves seeing the happy look on your fave when you open presents, it makes him fall for you even harder and all he wants to do is provide the whole world and more just to keep that expression on your face.

Spends most of the holiday with his brothers and majority of his paychecks around this time are blown on providing gifts for his siblings—many purchases made without even so much as a price check beforehand.

❅ Nanami Kento

NSFW

Cooking Christmas dinner ends up with you either bent over the counter or spread out on top of the counter every year. Nanami basically calls it tradition at this point. He just has to have you instead of focusing on finishing the meal set for Christmas day.

And what makes it so much better is that Nanami also uses this time to reveal how much he’s into food play. The man can’t help but want to lick some sort of frosting or cream (aside from his own) up off of your soft skin. Swearing everything tastes better when it’s eaten off of you.

Or, sometimes Nanami claims that pistoning his sharp hips into you while you’re bent over the counter helps him focus on reading the recipe to whatever he’s making. Apparently your moans keep him focused on the task at hand (literally) and each clench of your cunt around his thick shaft make his senses sharper (his words not mine…).

That, and there’s nothing more fun than leaving a cliche powdered handprint on the fat of your ass after a couple smacks in between his rough thrusts. You find his ability to multitask insane. He’s fucking your legs to complete mush and yet baking a cake at the same time like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

Not to mention the way he’ll have you suck a taste test off of his fingers just to hear you moan out a stuttered response of how good it tastes.

SFW

Nanami is the best gift giver, naturally. Okay, yeah, you mentioned this item once as you were describing to him a dream you had like three years ago before the two of you were even together but who caresss, right? It’s not his fault he has such a sharp memory and has hung off of your every word for as long as he’s known you…

One thing your husband loves to do around this time is slow dance with you to some classical Christmas music. It feels sappy and sweet—swaying with the love of his life as joyful steady music flitters within the air.

He definitely cannot wait to have children with you because he sees the way your face lights up as you watch children durning the holidays. Their laughter is so pure and really brings the Christmas spirit into the hearts of anyone nearby.

Who doesn’t go crazy with decorations or anything but he will have one absurdly large tree with a ridiculous number of ornaments just because.

[julymusings]

you're good to me, baby

with the roar of the fire my heart rose to its feet, like the ashes of ash i saw rise in the heat. settle soft and as pure as snow, i fell in love with the fire long ago.

or; because the red hood bleeding onto your living room carpet is exactly what you need right now [3.6k]

Jason Todd x fem!reader; based on this lovely ask; ngl this turned into a personal vent jason doesn't show up until 1k words in LMAO; warning there’s blood (duh) and reader is suggested to have heavy anxiety; pre-established relationship where reader doesn’t know his identity + muzzle red hood bc HOT

Compartmentalize. Create baskets in your mind. Analyze the situation, and drop the corresponding emotion in the appropriate basket.

One: You had a fight with your best friend. She called you selfish because you weren’t enthusiastic about her new relationship. She just can’t seem to understand that no matter how happy you want to be for her, it’s painful to see everyone find safety in another person when you can’t. Every attempt at romance is squashed by something or the other that you keep doing wrong. I thought you were hot, your latest dating attempt had said when you ran into him and asked why he never texted back. But you’re kind of a lot. Not something I have the space for right now, you know?

Two: There’s an important presentation today, one that could determine the fate of your position in the company. Your coworker, the one who’s convinced you stole his promotion (he just flirted with the higher-ups while you actually completed the requirements), refuses to let you forget how much is at stake. All it takes is one misstep, one stutter, one hesitation, and he will take it as an excuse to demand your demotion— or worse, termination. You’ve been preparing for this presentation for three weeks. If after all that effort it’s still not good enough, maybe you should be fired.

The emotions here? Frustration. Anger. Exhaustion. Jealousy. Just to name a few. But there’s no time to dwell on anxieties right now, so you shove those thoughts aside. Drop them in their compartments and move on because, after all, if you can strip them down to their bones and find where they stem, you can yank those anxieties from the ground before they have the chance to root. And then there’s no need for unnecessary heartache, right?

(Who cares if the baskets are overflowing, crumpled fragments spilling over the sides like garbage in a landfill? Who cares if the room of your mind is so packed that you’re pressed against the wall and breathing becomes painful.)

The digital clock beside your bed reads 6:12. The numbers blink in and out of the window, their red dots and dashes taunting your heavy eyelids. You still have forty-eight minutes of peace before it will scare you awake. Its beeping will ring so loud and angry that the adrenaline from the startle will power you through your morning routine, and your beating heart won’t dare still to entertain wishes of just five more minutes. 6:13 now. You have forty-seven more minutes of peace, minutes which should be spent sleeping, giving your poor brain a break from itself. But you can’t. Every time you close your eyes and begin to sink below the level of consciousness, your heart pumps a house-special cocktail of cortisol that laces through your bloodstream and convinces you that if you fall asleep you will miss your presentation and you will get fired. The off-grid escape plan formulating in your head switches from hypothetical to tentative when your neighbors, apparently awoken to lust as well as tired by it, start going at it again. You want nothing more than to bang on their door and scream obscenities until they hate each other enough to never touch again, but you resign yourself to consciousness, giving up on the dream of what would now be forty-four more minutes of sleep. 

It’s Friday morning; only one more day to get through before the sweet release of the weekend finds you. (The whole weekend will be spent contemplating the start of a project, feeling like two days is not nearly long enough to complete anything, and dreading Monday until it finds you with nothing done and the same, endless cycle awaiting.)

After completing your morning routine 44 minutes early, you use the spare time to go through your presentation once more, just for good luck, wrapping up the third run-through just in time to hear your alarm to leave for work.

The presentation goes decent, at least well enough to quell any doubts about your ability to do your job. Your coworker ate his words for sure, and you might have enjoyed the look on his face had you not mentally checked out as soon as you finished your closing remarks. Rush hour traffic has the ice cream tub you bought at the convenience store dripping condensation all over the passenger’s seat and your hips hurt from being in the same sitting position for most of the day, but you remind yourself that peace is only a few miles out. Stopped at yet another red light, your grip tightens on the steering wheel. Breathe in. Breathe out. The line of cars starts to move forward.

When you get home, your frustration is close to boiling over. You kick off your shoes right at the door, your keys and bag following close behind.

Far be it from you to break down on the floor in the middle of the room, the plan begins to formulate. There’s a box of tissues on your desk– that can go on the nightstand, along with two of the chilled water bottles you keep in the fridge for after you work out. And you’ll need something for the tissues, right? The small wastebasket from the bathroom should be fine. You drag it over to the side of your bed, sitting in your usual spot to make sure you placed it at a reachable distance. You won’t want to get out of bed to wash your face after this, so a washcloth should go next to the tissues. And an extra one, just to be safe.

You keep a set of comfortable clothes ready, the nicest, softest pajamas you own that you only wear after an everything shower. This shower, however, is a quick one, not much more than a few minutes under scalding water to comfort you, if nothing else. The light pink pajamas are a high-quality cotton and you feel like you’re in the clouds when you slip into them. Remaining is the ice cream, which you set out on the counter right before your shower so it would thaw just enough to be soft but not melted, With everything in your room ready, you go to retrieve the ice cream but stop with a startle when you round the corner.

“Jesus,” you mumble.

He’s just sitting there, doing nothing except bleeding out on your cream-colored carpet. He’s spread out on the couch like he owns the place, head leaned back against the wall as he lets his injured arm hang over the armrest and drip blood and dirt onto your cream-colored rug. The liquid seeps into the expensive wool, staining it with reddish-brown hues and the scent of iron, and he doesn’t even notice.

“Hey.” The Red Hood lifts his head when he sees you.

On any other day, you’d be quick to action, hauling him up off the couch and sprinting for the first aid kit under the bathroom sink. Today, your arms are too heavy and your gaze remains rooted on the widening splotch of red against white. Your throat feels dry. “You’re getting blood on the carpet.”

He peers over the armrest. “Oh, shit,” he curses, lifting his arm to hover it over his lap. He sounds robotic through his muzzle mask. His hood, pulled down to reveal his thick black hair curling at the ends from humidity and sweat, rests on his back.

I don’t have time for this, is what you want to say. You want to scream it in his face and kick him out for having the audacity to think he can come and go as he pleases, that you’re nothing more than a drive-through emergency room who will drop everything if he gets so much as a paper cut. But you can’t say any of this, and you do want him to come to you whenever he needs help. God knows he won’t go anywhere else.

Holding back your heavy sigh, you wordlessly walk to the bathroom. He takes that as an invitation to follow. 

It’s clinical. Rehearsed. Neither of you speak. It’s a partnered dance long since committed to muscle memory, steps you can take in your sleep. He knows to seat himself on the step stool you got just for him, for nights like these. He knows where to find the first aid kit and which supplies to hand you first. You know the exact steps to follow. Check the palms for abrasions. Antiseptic to the lacerations. Concussion exam. 

Maybe he can sense the air of tension surrounding you, because he doesn’t say as much as he usually does (though, granted, it’s still not much). It’s a reflection of your dynamic several months earlier when this arrangement began, back before you’d managed to chip away at the surface of his rough exterior. You notice the way his fingers curl against his thighs when you, somewhat carelessly, wipe the dirt from his skin with more pressure than necessary and the way his eyebrows tilt inward when you work slower than usual. You notice, but you ignore it.

We both know you have at least a dozen people who could do this for you. The words echo in your mind. Don’t act like I owe you this. If anything, you owe me a new carpet. These are things you wish you could say, but never will. Being realistic, you’ll probably never be able to say things like this. You’ll be subjected to all the shitty coworkers and unsympathetic friends and exploitative vigilantes of the world for the rest of your life.

This isn’t his fault, you remind yourself, but still, your lips turn down and your jaw feels tight with the effort to keep your face still, to not burst into tears right on the spot. In the second it takes for you to calm yourself, your hands pause. He notices. He says nothing. 

It’s not until you’re finished with cleaning the blood from his arm wound and giving him a wad of gauze to hold against it that he tests the waters and asks, “Is it too bad?” 

He sounds automated, but over the last few months, you’ve learned a thing or two about reading even these robotic actions. There's a certain quietness to the beginning of his sentence like he’s debating if he should say it or not. 

“It’s fine,” you say, shortly. 

“Sorry about your rug,” he says. He tugs at the strap of his muzzle with one finger, rubbing at the skin underneath the leather. “I can get the stain out.”

You retrieve the needle and thread from the kit and don’t respond. You don’t even look at him.

After a moment’s hesitation, he continues. “It’s easy. You just need salt and—”

“Okay.”

He goes quiet.

You don’t mean to be so tetchy, but you don’t have the energy for anything more. Every little thing has you feeling on the edge of shattering. It’s too much. It’s all too much.

It’s when you’re kneeled at his side, staring into the gaping wound on his bicep and trying to thread the needle, fingers trembling from the chill of the tiled floor with nothing but a layer of thin cotton to keep you warm, that it happens. He shifts on the stool, a mere twitch in an attempt to get comfortable, but it brushes his bloody arm against yours. Flecks of fresh red on the light pink fabric. First your carpet, now your pajamas. Your favorite, special, extra soft matching cotton pajama set, a rare splurge after your promotion that stood out among old t-shirts and sweat shorts. Ruined. Again, he doesn’t seem to notice.

“Did I say something?” Hood asks. He waits for your response, but when none comes, he adds, “I’m sorry if I did.” He speaks so quietly you may not have been able to separate his words from the whirring filter of his mask, if not for the chilling silence of the bathroom floor. The insulating brick walls of your old apartment building are something you’re usually grateful for, but tonight you find yourself wishing for the city’s commotion to seep through the walls. Something, anything to buffer his proximity to you.

You hear his inhale as he prepares to say something else.

“Can you just let me work?” You snap before he has the chance to speak again. It’s loud, louder than you’d ever dream of speaking to him, and he flinches. Your eyes shut in apology, but only for a moment before you get back to it. He looks away. His feet point towards the door.

He wants to leave, you can tell, and you don’t blame him. You just messed everything up. But you started this, so now you have to finish it.

You sit in silence for the several minutes it takes for you to clean his wound and stop the bleeding.

He’s not looking at you, gaze transfixed ahead of him on a chip in the paint. At least, you assume. It’s difficult to guess what’s going on behind the milky white covering over his eyes. His subtle body language can be read if you pay close enough attention, you’ve learned, but that’s not something you care to do right now.

(Maybe you noticed in the back of your mind that he’s not exhibiting any body language since you snapped at him, but the compartment in your head for guilt is already overflowing, so maybe you didn’t notice it, you tell yourself.)

You stare at your sleeve, at the patches of blood blooming like ink blots. The red and pink hues blend together behind your blurring vision. You sniffle.

“Are you—” Hood starts. Because now he’s looking at you.

“Excuse me,” you say, pushing yourself off the ground and stumbling out of the room without so much as a glance back at him. You stagger into your room, needle and thread still in hand, and push the door closed. The lights are off, and the darkness is calming, quieting your buzzing thoughts. You close your eyes and lean against the door. Breathe in. Breathe out. You continue this exercise, breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth to soothe your sympathetic nervous system, the same way a therapist instructed that one time you went. You wipe away the moisture that has collected in your eyes, roll out your stiff neck, dry your sweaty palms over your thighs. You toss the needle and thread aside, because they are definitely not sterile anymore, and take a few more breaths before opening the door and going back to the bathroom.

You avoid his face, following the lines of grimy grout between the tiles before resuming to your spot at his side. His inspecting eyes burn on the side of your face. You wipe down the forceps with a sterilizing wipe and rip open the plastic packaging for a new needle, holding it up to the wound, but your hand refuses to steady.

Another deep breath. Then another.

Hood sighs. It’s almost chastising. “I think I should go.”

“What?” You’re just surprised enough to be torn away from your thoughts and look him in the eye (mask) for the first time all night.

“You can’t do this,” he says, gruffly. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I’ll let you figure it out.”

You scoff. “Yes, I can. I’m fine.”

Before he can argue, you grab him by the wrist to hold him in place just as he starts moving to get up. He winces, but you keep your grip tight on him. You can feel his scrutiny through the cold, expressionless barrier of his disguise, practically track his pupils as they search your face.

You both pretend he couldn’t break from your hold in an instant if he wanted to.

“You’re shaking,” Hood says. His voice is much softer now.

You follow the turn of his head to your hand where it hovers the needle right over his skin. You are shaking. Trembling, in fact.

“No, I’m not.” It comes out as an empty whisper.

You focus all your strength on steadying yourself, but the harder you try to stabilize, the harder you tremor. Your other hand releases his wrist to clamp over your dominant hand and force it to stay in place. It guides the needle closer to the skin, but now your vision is blurring. You blink rapidly, but it’s not enough. The tears start falling. You look away from him, but a warm hand settles over yours. You don’t dare look at him, unable to bear showing him your shameful face, wet and blushing and screwed up in misery. You turn your face into your sleeve. Clamp your eyes shut tight, thinking maybe if you keep them closed, this darkness will swallow you up and he won’t be here anymore.

But the warmth of his skin on yours is the first feeling of softness, of relief you’ve felt in months, and then it’s gone. Your shoulders are shaking, quaking with the effort to keep your sobs quiet.

One finger ever so gently hooks around your chin, pulling it back up to face him. You keep your eyes closed, not wanting to see him see you like this, but the tears are still streaming. He brushes them away. Whether that makes it better or worse, you can’t be sure, because you cry even harder, snatching your face away from his grasp to muffle your sobs into the back of your hand. You don’t realize he’s pushed himself off his stool to sit cross-legged on the floor until you feel his hand circling your arm and pulling you closer. The tools in your hand clatter on the floor as your palms come up to press against his chest, fighting against him with half-hearted protests murmured through your cries. But even with only one good arm he’s too strong for you, and you’re pulled into him.

He’s so gentle with you, rubbing your back and resting his chin atop your head while you cry and cry and cry into his shirt. Several minutes pass like this, with your face buried in his chest and his good arm holding you tightly against him while the other dangles lamely at his side, throbbing with an intensity he’s trying to ignore.

When your sobs die down, and you’re sure you’re all cried out, you linger against him. He smells like smoke and gasoline, and his shirt is soft and warm from his body heat seeping through. His hand continues to stroke up and down the length of your back, even after you’ve quieted. The edge of his mask digs into your scalp where his chin sits, but it feels worth it. Your hands, still pressed to his chest, slide higher, completely of their own volition, out of a newfound desire to wrap your arms around his neck. You don’t hear it, but you can feel his sharp draw of breath, his chest rising quickly under your touch. Your hands lose their nerve at his clavicle as you hold your breath for fear of the smallest movement drawing attention to your forwardness. You wait for him to rebuff you, to lean away from your touch, or grab your wrists and pry them off. He doesn’t.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. His chest finally falls.

Eyes opening, your thumb swipes over the edge of the red bat symbol just below his collarbone.

His movements pause, lightly gripping the fabric of your shirt for just a moment, before releasing it. “It’s alright,” he tells you.

You pull back from his chest to look at him, the way his cold and unfeeling expression stares back at you. You wonder from time to time what’s under the mask, but tonight the desire is overwhelming; you ache with the want to know what he looks like. The color of his eyes. What his mouth looks like when he winces over a deep cut or chuckles at one of your anecdotes. You wonder if his lips are soft or chapped. If he’d like it if you dragged your thumb across the bottom one.

The metallic odor spreading through the room brings you back to the present, and you hope the flush from your tears hides your cheeks’ growing heat when you realize where your mind had wandered. 

“Oh, fuck, your arm.” You speak in a watery voice, wiping at your face as the urgency returns to your senses. Though you try to move away, his firm hand on your back pulls you back in.

“Don’t worry about it, okay?” He says, resuming his caresses up and down your back. “I can take care of it.”

“Then why do you even need me?” You sniffle with a small smile.

He stays silent. But when you search his face, waiting for an answer, his hand moves to your side, palm sliding a fraction of an inch closer to your waist and fingers tensing, you can almost see through the mechanical muzzle to the way his lips shape the words. At least, he wishes you could.

You know why.

this was lots of fun to write and thank u for your patience ik i said i was gonna "knock this out in a day" 2 weeks ago😬😬 also we're gonna pretend they aren't just letting his open wound marinate for half an hour when it should be getting stitched up bc it's fiction ok? everyone say thank you mostly-imagines for proofreading this😚

but anyway happy new year!! it's been barely 2 months but starting this account made my year so much better🫶🫶🫶and ty for 500 followers that's crazy🫣🫢

listen to the inspo song!!!

[shouyuus]

the first time college roommate!vi sees you in one of her shirts, she loses her mind just a little bit, bc it's a sunday morning, and she walks into the living room to find you there, one of her big graphic shirts hanging off your shoulders, a book perched against an empty bottle of peach svedka from god knows when, munching through a bowl of overnight oats.

"is... that mine?"

you jump to your feet, blushing something fierce as you tug at the hem of the shirt, pursing your lips; vi's stomach flips; there's a flake of oatmeal at the corner of your lip that she wants so badly to reach out and wipe for you --

"sorry! it's just -- i forgot to do laundry yesterday, and i think one of your shirts got mixed up with my clothes in the last batch so i just --" you fidget with your own fingers, cheeks blazing as you stare down at her shirt hanging off your frame.

"no, no!" vi says, clearing her throat as she tries to focus on anything other than the way your thighs peak out from beneath the hem of the shirt. how she can catch a glimpse of your collarbone when the wide necklines shifts this way and that. "it's fine! you -- it looks good on you, cupcake."

you chew on your lips, tugging at the hem. "t-thanks but -- i'll wash it again before giving it back --"

"you don't have to --" vi says, a bit too quickly, and you look up, your eyes wide. she swears inwardly, clenching her fists. "i mean -- i've got a million shirts like it so you -- you keep that one."

she makes a brave attempt at her usual, easy smirk, shrugging up a shoulder as she looks you over one more time.

"it looks good on you."

and she thinks she's got it -- thinks she's finally gotten back to ground zero, maybe even gotten a bit of the upper hand here. it used to be so easy to make you blush, back when you both first moved in, just a few carefully aimed words here or there, a teasing smirk, and you'd be turning pink enough to match her hair. but it's been harder lately, and vi doesn't really know why (or rather, she doesn't want to think about it too hard, lest she really drive herself crazy with the thought of you), but she's glad that she's still got it in her.

even if it does take everything inside her not to be blushing herself.

"thanks..." you swallow, rubbing your fingers into the soft, worn in material, "i like it cause... it kinda smells like you."

vi thanks every single deity she can think of the name for that she's leaning against the doorframe of her bedroom because if she hadn't, she's sure you would've just taken her out.

and later, after she's made up some ass excuse and said that she's gotta go to the gym for a mid-morning workout (she doesn't actually, but the thought of spending more time with you in that apartment with you prancing around in one of her shirts had her nearly catatonic), she buries her face in her hands, sitting in the gym lockers, her heart thumping a mile a minute, your voice caught like a record on loop in her head as she feels her entire body flush a deep, prickling crimson --

i like it cause... it kinda smells like you.

sweet lord she is so, so fucked.

[thinkinonsense]

Sweet Temptations.

logan howlett x fem!reader

cw: fingering, oral (f receiving), innocence kink, inexperienced reader, darkish!logan

a/n: hi! sorry i've been gone so long! i have plenty of stuff in the works but for now here's this. i'm working on making a mini-series of dark!logan x inexperienced!reader so i hope everyone enjoys! <3

to think, logan almost went out to the bar tonight. almost left to find a one night stand or come home and fuck his hand. tonight could've had so many different outcomes but luckily, he ended up with the best one.

there's a light knock on his bedroom door. he knew it had to have been you since everyone was on a field trip a couple hours away for the night. logan obviously wasn't interested in going and you were busy working on an experiment in the laboratory.

in all reality, logan just wanted an excuse to stay here alone with you overnight. ever since he joined the x-men and met you down in the lab in that cute white coat and pretty smile, he's had a crush on you.

"hi, logan." you smile softly when he opens his door.

"hey, dollface. you need something?" he asks, leaning against his door frame and eyeing that short little nightgown of yours.

"can we talk?"

"sure."

the two of you walk into logan's room and sit on the end of his bed. you sit up on your knees, facing him. he can tell that something is on your mind but you're unsure on if you should confide in him or not.

"is everything alright?" he asks, growing concerned.

you nod, chewing on your bottom lip.

"whatcha wanna talk about then, sweets?"

logan's large hand rubs your knee softly, almost coaxing the words out of you.

"would you do me a big favor?" you ask, avoiding his hazel gaze.

"of course."

there's slight hesitation. you were afraid of logan's reaction to your request. after a deep breath, you remind yourself that it's just logan. the same logan who trains with you every morning, the same logan who plays with your hair when he's bord, the same logan who praises you for all your hard work in the laboratory. there was nothing to be afraid of.

"c-can you take my virginity?"

the question almost killed logan. he thought he had died and gone to heaven. you finally look at him with a twinkle in your eyes and he feels the need to adjust the tent growing in his pants.

"where'd this idea come from, sweetheart?"

"well, i was seeing a guy a while ago who acted really weird when i told him i was still a virgin then when i told storm and jean, they told me that if i'm ready to do it, than it should be with someone i trust." you explain so innocently to him. "i just figured since you've always been so gentle with me and i trust you, i was kinda hoping you wouldn't mind."

never in his wildest dreams could logan have imagined this happening. you sitting pretty on his bed, practically begging him to take your virginity. god, logan couldn't even remember the last time he was with a virgin. must've been decades ago.

"that's real sweet, dollface. 'f course i'll do it." he says, watching your smile grow with excitement. "first i need to know what you've already done."

"i've kissed while sitting in someone's lap, given a hickey twice... maybe three times? some nights i'll rub myself against one of my pillows."

even though he knew the answer, he had to ask, "ever fingered yourself?"

"no." you shake your head, almost making logan moan at just the thought of being the first person to do that to you.

"want to try it?"

"s-sure but i thought we were gonna–"

"we will." logan assures. "need to get you loosened up first if you want me to fit inside of you."

a small gasp exists your lips, making him chuckle. logan leans in, testing the waters to see how you kiss. he's a bit shocked by how you pull him closer to deepen it. you moan into his mouth while your hands roam his hair. he sits you in his lap and lets you grind yourself on top of him, showing him what you know.

"let's see if you're nice and wet for me." logan hums, lifting up your nightgown and feeling the wet spot over your underwear. "very good, dollface."

without thinking, you let out a tiny moan next to his ear because of his praise. he can't help but pull your head from its hiding spot in his neck to look at you.

"you like when i tell you how good you're being for me?" he ask, watching your face contort as your hips keep moving. one of his hands rests on your waist, stopping you from moving. "c'mon, you can tell me."

"mhm..." you nod. "love when you praise me."

suddenly, your back is pressed flat against his sheets as he kisses all down your body. leaving little marks here and there until he reaches the waist band of your pretty pink underwear.

"did you wear these just for me, princess?" he asks, placing a kiss right over the cotton covering your button.

"y-you said i looked p-pretty in pink."

as the words stumble out of your mouth, logan feels a warmth spread across his heart. a couple months ago, you were wearing a new pink dress and as logan passed you by, he mentioned how pretty you looked in the color. it meant a lot to you.

"you still do." he says. "can i take these off of you, baby?"

you nod, lifting your hips a little to help him. logan tosses the pink cotton somewhere behind him. lifting up the nightgown to your tummy, eyes glued to the spot in between your legs.

"didn't think you could get any prettier." logan mumbles to himself.

his intense gaze made you feel a bit vulnerable, trying to close your legs but his large hands stop you.

"don't hide from me, princess." he says, capturing your attention. " 'm gonna make you feel good."

logan carefully drags his thumb through your slit, collecting the arousal and circling it around your button. the feather like touch sends your head back and whimpers to fall from your lips. gently, logan pushes his middle finger past your velvet walls, groaning once you clench around him.

"atta girl, princess." he smirks watching you swallow up his finger. "takin' it so good."

logan watches in awe as your head fall back and the arch in your back. slowly he inches his face closer and licks a thick stripe up your fold before sucking softly on your button. you feel logan muffle 'fuck' against you, only resulting in more arousal to spill out of you.

"o-oh, logan." you moan, hips chasing his tongue feverishly.

since this was your first time, logan went easy on you, not making you work for your orgasm. he feels your cunt clench down on his one finger as it hits deep inside of you until you are seeing stars. with logan's other free hand, he paws at your tit and rolls it in his palm.

"need m-more!" you whimper with glossy eyes and lips. "p-please, lo."

in an attempt to give you what you want, logan struggles to hit another finger inside of you. he wasn't sure what he did to deserve this type of heaven but god, was he thankful for it.

"i can't, sweetheart." he groans, kissing your hip bone as he speeds up the finger inside of you. "you're too tight for two of my fingers. there's no way i'll be able to fit inside of you tonight."

before you could whine in protest, this indescribable wave of euphoria washes over you. smooth silky legs wrap tightly around logan's head. thighs covers his ears, blocking out the sweet sounds you were making. logan goes back to sloppily making out with your cunt until you weakly pull him off and drag him up to your lips, tasting your own release on his tongue.

"thanks, lo." you smile in a daze at him.

"anytime." he says. "i think you'll need another lesson soon though if you want to take all of me. do you want that, princess?"

he could feel your heart rate increase eagerly. you blush intensely and avoid his gaze as you nod.

"alright." he chuckles darkly. "but first, you gotta show me how you get off on your pillow."

[niceutossu]

Serious | Oikawa x Reader

Oikawa doesn’t want to get married until you get hurt and he can’t see you. “Family only,” the nurse tells him coldly. And he tries his best to charm his way through, joking about how you two were even closer than family but the worker doesn’t budge.

“Only blood relatives?” He asks, despite knowing the answer himself.

“Or spouse.” The woman replied, avoiding eye contact as she scribbled down important information and continued ignoring his existence.

“I’m practically-“ Before he could finish, he stopped at the sight of her hand raising.

“Are you legally married?” She interjected, clearly having gone through this conversation dozens of times before. Oikawa couldn’t even blame her for the annoyance, as much as he couldn’t blame himself for trying.

“No.” He says dejectedly, shoulders falling with a deep sigh.

“Then please just wait until actual family gets here.” She states, motioning towards the waiting room as he did his best not to scowl.

Instead, he offered her a forced but friendly smile, retreating towards the uncomfortable hospital chairs. As he sat down the plastic squeaked: loud and jarring, and he grimaced. There was no point in arguing but it didn’t ease the nervousness crawling under his skin. How long had you been here? How long before he could see you? He began tapping his foot restlessly, only serving to amplify the ache in his chest.

You two were family, practically at least. You both lived together. You shared meals, inside jokes, and the kind of silence that only happens between people who really get each other. He knew how you liked your tea, the temperature you liked to have bath drawn to. Was that not family-like?

He clenched his hands, feeling his fingernails dig into his palms as memories started to surface, further sharpening the ache. He’d never bothered to bring up marriage, and you never asked. You both knew—knew what being a pro-athlete entailed. Time off spent planning was time he lost playing. He thought he had made it clear he was still yours and you were his. But now, as he sits helplessly outside your hospital room, he regrets never saying anything.

If you were really his he’d be able to see you, and if he was really yours then he’d be willing to settle down and take things seriously. He feels himself cringe as he remembers similar words Iwaizumi had spoken to him the night you two had first met.

After introductions and hours of chatting, the three of you finally settled into a comfortable rhythm. You and Iwaizumi were a surprise match—though Oikawa teased that it shouldn’t be that surprising given that he had good taste, earning him a synchronized glare from the two of you.

He felt his heart flip in his chest—he really did have good taste (and maybe a type). Later, during a moment of quiet, Oikawa excused himself to the bathroom. When he returned, he found the two of you sitting in a mutual silence.

“Hey I was gone for just a second now, what happened to all the good times?” He joked, his signature smirk only lasting a moment before being startled by the sound of the restaurant staff singing happy birthday behind him.

Turning around, he watched as they brought out a small cake with candles. His name written out in chocolate syrup and topped off with powdered sugar in the shape of his jersey number.

“I told her you weren’t worth it but she insisted.” Iwaizumi deadpanned, but the softness in his eyes betrayed him. Oikawa felt a lump form in his throat at the sight of your warm smile. The glow from the candles were nothing compared to the light in your eyes when you looked at him.

“Happy birthday Tooru.” You spoke gently, contrasting the loud cheers behind him. He felt a weird weakness wash over him, one that scared him more than the surprise singing.

You’d already celebrated with him that morning—and afternoon. He’d never thought you’d extend it to dinner. He was known to be a dramatic guy, extravagant even, but being celebrated for those things felt foreign.

Later, as you took a call nearby and he and Iwaizumi argued over the bill, his friend placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey,” Iwaizumi asked, his voice softer than usual, “you’re serious about this, right?” He didn’t need to specify; his question hung in the air, pressing gently but firmly on Oikawa’s usual bravado.

Caught off guard, Oikawa searched for a lighthearted response, but Iwaizumi’s hand didn’t move. He hesitated, then admitted quietly, “I’ve never been celebrated like this before.” He felt small under the weight of his best friend’s discerning gaze.

In all his previous relationships, he had failed to feel true intimacy, always keeping partners at an arms-length. He thought your relationship would be no different, that it’d still be on his terms albeit a bit toxic.

Except it was not like that at all.

You were like a whirlwind in his life, at first catching him off guard but now helping him build solid foundations. Between the two of you, he was definitely more needy. In the past, he would’ve said it was the other way around but you had your own undeniable magnetism. Anyone with eyes would be sure to see it too, and see right through him at the same time.

The feminine niceties he thought he had grown accustomed to had him giddy and unable to keep his hands off you. Everything you did had his heart racing and for the first time in his life, he was nervous to lose someone.

His suave streak had been brutally ended by your presence alone, having made him feel like he was worth loving again and again without even knowing. His own sweet and cheeky angel.

“If it feels good, then take it seriously.” Iwaizumi replied, his words simple but earnest. Before Oikawa could respond, you returned, bringing back your carefree nature he always craved, the same one he was starting to feel like he didn’t deserve.

Despite it being his birthday, despite feeling a certain question rise behind the heaviness in his throat after his exchange with Iwaizumi, he stayed quiet. He could’ve at least made a joke about it then, but he didn’t.

He’d told himself he was taking it, you, seriously—that you would understand without him saying it out loud. You knew him and he knew you, was that not enough? Maybe not to Iwaizumi, who also knew him maybe a bit better than he knew himself sometimes. The thought of losing you the same way he’d lost others left a knot in his stomach.

He had tried to ignore this truth: that you meant something more—not just to him, but to the people he loved. Yet every now and then, there would be reminders of just how deeply you’d embedded yourself into his life.

He started to reminisce on how he’d found out how you kept visiting his nephew after he’d left for Argentina. He’d received a photo out of the blue: you and Takeru, cheek-to-cheek, grinning at the zoo. His younger self would’ve called it impossible—Takeru, in a picture? Smiling? But there it was.

He quickly replied back with a like to the photo and a teasing message along the lines of ‘huh why what’. He’d barely hit send before you replied with another picture. This time it was of you and his older sister pressed cheek to cheek, her eyes shining with the same warmth he felt every time he looked at you.

“Sponsored trip by my favorite Oikawa <3,” you’d written.

As much as he wanted to text back a cheeky remark he felt himself falter, too focused on the way his sisters eyes shined with the same affection he felt for you. It made him feel a little funny, a little weak. The same way he felt when Iwaizumi prodded him. This was family and something else he couldn’t name quite yet.

Without even thinking he called you, needing to hear your voice and feel like he was there with you (and, of course, remind you that he’s your favorite). He’d kept his tone light, playful. But there’d been a weight in his chest, the same question hovering unasked. He knew you could tell in the way you asked him things, lingered onto his replies as if to find some deeper meaning.

Again, he could have asked. He could have made you family in name as well as in his heart, so many times. Except now, that same question haunted him, and he wasn’t sure he even deserved to ask anymore.

He shook his head as if to rid himself of any more good memories, not allowing himself to relish in you with all the regret that gnawed at him. He was so good at not biting his tongue except when it came to things that mattered. Because nothing was serious to Oikawa until it was, for better or for worse.

And he didn’t know exactly when you had become serious to him, but you had. He felt a tremor pass through him at the thought of seeing you look anything less than alive. Or not being able to make you laugh when you come home sullen anymore.

He moved around restlessly at that thought of not seeing you again. It felt wrong—horribly wrong. He took in a deep breath to calm his ragged nerves. He would see you again, even if it meant seeing you at your worst.

You had seen him at his most selfish and prideful and yet, you still reached out to him, unafraid. He wanted, no, needed to show you that he loved every single part of you the same, no matter how overwhelming because no one could be as much as he is sometimes.

All the relationships he had in high school, college, and the flings in-between had felt so stifling. The thought of making a legal commitment had always made Oikawa’s skin crawl. Except now, sitting under the sterile white lights and thinking of just how much you meant to him feels even more suffocating. You weren’t a high school girl or a fling, you were you.

And then the realization hits him hard: maybe he does wants all of it, as long as it’s with you—the highs, the lows, the commitment he once ran from. For there to never be any more regrets, to love and to cherish, all of it as long as it was with you.

But what if he was too late again?

“Tooru?” The soft sound of your voice pulls him from his spiraling thoughts. His head snaps up, eyes wide as he sees you standing there, in a hospital gown, looking a bit pale but alive. Your face is a little worn, eyes sunken in but you’re still here. You’re still you. Relief floods him, so overwhelming he barely notices the creak of the plastic chair as he rises, taking long and purposeful strides towards you.

If it feels good then take it seriously.

He stands in front of you for a moment, not knowing where to place his hands as familiar words gather in his throat the way they had so many times before. Except he doesn’t let himself hold back—not this time. He’d held onto these words for too long, out of fear or pride, whatever it was, it didn’t matter now.

Everything is clear as he sinks down on one knee, eyes locked on yours as he finally gives in to what he’s always wanted: you.

[onedivision]

starting to feel anxious about comedian rescheduling first date…

[wolvietxt]

𝓑UTTERFLIES.

pairing : bucky barnes x fem!reader warnings : light angst, shouting, reader stands up for bucky, kinda open-ended summary : bucky feels weird things in his stomach whenever he thinks about you, he’s convinced he’s getting sick wc : 1.7k a/n : part two here

the avengers tower was a hive of activity. agents scurried in and out, stark’s gadgets beeped incessantly, and the hum of conversations filled the hallways. amidst the chaos, you’d carved out your own little routine - something steady to hold onto in a world that rarely stopped moving. and then there was bucky barnes. he was the quiet one, always on the edges of the action, as though he wasn’t sure where he fit in. you’d noticed him almost immediately when you moved in, not because he tried to stand out, but because he did the opposite.

every morning, he’d shuffle into the kitchen, head down, hair slightly messy from sleep. you’d offer him a soft “good morning,” trying not to sound too eager, and he’d nod or mumble something before retreating to the solitude of the gym or his room. his shyness only made you want to know him more. there was a depth to him, layers you were dying to peel back, but he seemed content - or maybe resigned - to keeping everyone at arm’s length.

still, you didn’t give up. you tried in small ways: leaving him a cup of coffee when you knew he’d be up early, asking if he’d want to join for movie nights, even offering him a quiet corner during team meetings when things got too loud. his answers were always polite but distant. it wasn’t rejection, not really, but it still left you wondering if you’d ever get through to him.

then came the day you overheard something that made your blood boil.

it happened in the common room. you’d been looking for a misplaced file when you caught snippets of a conversation between two junior agents. at first, you thought nothing of it - just the usual chatter that filled the tower. but then you heard bucky’s name, and your attention snapped to them like a rubber band.

“he’s just so… weird,” one of them said, his tone dripping with disdain. “i mean, come on, we’re supposed to trust him? after everything he’s done?”

“seriously,” the other agreed. “it’s like walking on eggshells around him. guy barely talks, and when he does, it’s just… creepy. i don’t know why they keep him around.”

rage bubbled up in your chest, hot and immediate. before you could stop yourself, you stepped into the room, your voice cutting through their laughter like a knife. “who do you think you are?”

the agents froze, their faces draining of color as they realized you’d been listening. one of them tried to stammer an excuse, but you weren’t having it.

“no, i want to know,” you said, your voice steady but sharp. “what gives you the right to talk about him like that? do you have any idea what he’s been through? what he’s overcome? or do you just like tearing people down because it makes you feel better about yourselves?”

they exchanged nervous glances, clearly searching for an exit, but you weren’t finished.

“bucky barnes has more strength in his pinky finger than you’ll ever have in your entire life. and if i hear either of you - either of you - say one more word about him, you’ll be reassigned so fast you won’t have time to pack your desks. understood?”

they mumbled something that sounded like agreement before bolting from the room, leaving you standing there, heart pounding from the adrenaline.

unbeknownst to you, bucky had been standing just around the corner.

he hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. he’d been on his way to the common room to grab a bottle of water when he heard your voice. at first, he’d thought you were just talking to someone, but as the words sank in, he realized you were defending him. you were angry - no, furious - on his behalf, and it left him rooted to the spot, unable to move.

no one had ever done that for him before.

days later, the memory still lingered. he couldn’t shake the image of you standing there, fire in your eyes, your voice unwavering. it was as though you’d burned yourself into his mind, and every time he thought about it, his chest tightened. it wasn’t just what you’d said; it was the way you’d said it, with so much conviction it made him feel… something he couldn’t quite name.

that night, he lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling. his heart raced, his palms were clammy, and his stomach churned in a way that felt almost… pleasant? but also deeply unsettling. was he getting sick? that seemed impossible - the serum made sure of that. yet the symptoms were undeniable. every time he closed his eyes, he saw your face, heard your voice, and felt that strange, fluttering sensation in his chest.

by the next morning, he was convinced something was seriously wrong.

bucky had never been one to dwell on his feelings. survival, duty, and regret had occupied most of his thoughts for as long as he could remember. but now, as he sat on the edge of his bed staring at the floor, he couldn’t ignore the storm swirling inside him. he felt… strange. his chest was tight, his thoughts were scattered, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop replaying the moment he overheard you in the common room.

he should’ve stepped in, said something to those agents himself, but instead, he’d stood there like a coward while you defended him. the memory of your voice, sharp with anger, made his palms sweat. no one had ever spoken up for him like that. people either feared him or avoided him altogether. but you - you’d stood there, unwavering, because you believed he was worth it. the thought made his heart race in a way that felt entirely too unfamiliar.

it had to be some kind of illness, right? he couldn’t be sick - the serum wouldn’t allow it - but what else could explain the way his stomach flipped whenever you were around? or the way his hands fidgeted nervously whenever you said his name? bucky groaned, dragging a hand down his face. this was ridiculous. he needed answers.

and so, he turned to the only person he trusted to give him the truth.

“steve, something’s wrong with me,” bucky blurted out later that day. they were in the gym, steve halfway through a set of push-ups when bucky’s words made him pause mid-rep.

“wrong?” steve asked, pushing himself to his feet. “what do you mean?”

bucky hesitated, crossing his arms over his chest. “it’s… i don’t know. i’ve been feeling weird lately. my heart’s racing, i can’t think straight, and every time i see - ” he cut himself off, clearing his throat. “never mind. forget it.”

steve’s lips twitched into a knowing smile. “does this have anything to do with a certain someone?”

bucky’s jaw tightened. “what? no. that’s not… that’s not it.”

“sure, buck,” steve said, his tone teasing. “you’re probably just coming down with something.”

bucky narrowed his eyes. “serum, remember? i don’t get sick.”

steve’s smile widened. “exactly.”

bucky scowled, realizing too late that steve wasn’t going to be any help. he mumbled a quick excuse and left, his frustration mounting. if steve wasn’t going to take him seriously, he’d just have to figure this out himself.

next on his list was sam. surely sam would have a straight answer for him.

“ you’re not dying, man,” sam said after bucky cornered him in the kitchen. “although, judging by the way you’re acting, you’d think the world was ending.”

bucky frowned. “i’m not acting any way.”

sam raised an eyebrow. “uh-huh. look, maybe you just need to… i don’t know, talk to someone about it. someone who isn’t me.”

bucky groaned. “you’re no help.”

“at least i’m honest,” sam shot back, smirking as he left bucky alone with his thoughts.

it wasn’t until later that night, during a rare moment of quiet, that bucky found himself seeking out natasha. if anyone could give him a straight answer, it was her. she was sitting in the lounge, flipping through a book, when he approached.

“can i ask you something?” he said, his voice quieter than usual.

natasha glanced up, her expression unreadable. “always.”

bucky shifted awkwardly, his fingers drumming against his thigh. “if… hypothetically… someone couldn’t stop thinking about another person, and it made them feel all… weird inside, what would you call that?”

natasha’s lips twitched, and for a moment, bucky thought she might laugh. but instead, she closed her book and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “weird how?”

bucky struggled to find the words. “just… weird. like, heart-racing, can’t-think-straight, stomach-doing-flips kind of weird.”

natasha studied him for a long moment, her gaze sharp and assessing. “sounds like you’ve got it bad.”

bucky blinked. “got what?”

she smirked. “you’ll figure it out.”

and just like that, she returned to her book, leaving bucky more confused than ever.

over the next few days, bucky’s “symptoms” only seemed to worsen. he found himself drawn to you in ways he couldn’t explain. the way you smiled, the sound of your laugh, even the little things you did - like leaving a cup of coffee on the counter for him - made his chest ache in the best possible way. it was maddening.

finally, in a last-ditch effort to make sense of what was happening, he sought out wanda. if anyone could give him clarity, it was her.

wanda listened patiently as bucky explained his predicament, her expression calm and composed. when he finished, she tilted her head, a small, knowing smile tugging at her lips.

“bucky,” she said gently, “you’re not sick.”

he frowned. “but - ”

“you’ve got a crush,” she said simply.

bucky’s heart stopped. “a crush?”

wanda nodded. “yes. and from the sound of it, it’s about time you did something about it.”

bucky stared at her, his mind racing. the idea felt foreign, almost impossible. but as he thought about you - the way you’d stood up for him, the way you’d always looked and spoken to him with so much warmth and understanding - he realized wanda was right.

ᰔ bucky barnes : @notacleangirl, @v3lv3tf0x, @dugiioh, @whxtewolf, @lemoanaid

@yvespecially, @hhiggs, @darlingsoulbeautifulthoughts, @seasonofthenerd, @superlegend216

@withasideofmeg, @pvndomi, @flamin-hot-cheetos, @bbittenapples, @hazydespair

@aoi_targaryen, @person-005, @corvuscattus

taglist form linked in pinned post :3