#the next class was gonna be so interesting to meet

[cherishedteddie]

Takes a mental health day ( off from work ) to stay home and be mentally ill ( finish the last season of degrassi next class and cry my fucking eyes out )

[logansdoll]

professor

the students are excited to have their old biology teacher back, but you can't be that great... right?

CW: fluffy fluff, the events of Last Stand didn't happen, Logan being Logan, reader is a chlorokinetic (controls plants), love at first sight, Logan's down bad off rip

It was a couple months back when word of your return began buzzing around the mansion.

No one knew where the rumor started, or who started it, but the day wasn't even half over before the entire student body was obsessed.

Whispers muttered during class, lunchtime gossip chains, study group pow-wows.

Many couldn't believe it.

You? Come back?

No way.

Some could've sworn you were supposed to be gone for at least a few more years.

Others thought you weren't supposed to come back at all.

And a small few even believed that your arrival could come as soon as the following month.

But after a week or so of no follow up, eventually, the rumor was put to rest, interest diverted to the next, newest gossip on campus.

...

That is... until the story came out.

Apparently, one of the students—who seemed to have some sort of super-hearing—eavesdropped on a conversation between Scott and Charles, and found out you would, in fact, be returning to the school and your position as the biology teacher.

And that was all the students needed to go absolutely berserk.

It wasn't even a full twenty-four hours later before the first meeting of your welcoming committee was held, the new club already having about twenty-five members.

While they began making preparations and to-do lists for your arrival, another group began going out to your garden on the weekends, trimming the overgrown weeds and planting new flowers in their place, caring for them in the meantime.

Some students even started straightening up your old classroom, cleaning the clouded glass of the greenhouse and redecorating with your favorite blooms.

And, of course, Logan had to return from one of his trips right in the middle of it.

Now, at first, he didn't really give a shit.

But out of curiosity, he asked Rogue what all the commotion was about—especially after some kid ran past him with a trolley full of potting soil—and what he gathered was that you were some professor who left about a year ago to teach abroad.

Apparently, you were nearly every kid's favorite teacher, your fun and interactive lessons, along with your genuinely kind and caring personality, touching the hearts of damn near the entire student body.

Even kids who had never met you before were chipping in, helping out those who needed a little extra manpower.

It was almost unbelievable.

'If this chick doesn't show up, Charles is gonna have a nuclear war on his hands...'

"Guys!" Kitty shouted, running straight through the front door and into the foyer. "I think her car just pulled up!"

The following stampede could've ranked as a 9.0 on the Richter scale.

It was eight in the morning on a Saturday, and half the kids were still in their pajamas, but they all moved with lightning speed, grabbing their signs and noise-makers before running down the stairs.

A boy with super speed sprinted to the lower level dorms and woke everyone else, while a girl with the ability to stretch hung up a welcome banner over the archway.

"Hurry! She's walking up!" Kitty reported, her head halfway through a window.

Quickly, the students formed a crowd at the door, the teachers slowly descending the stairs to join them.

"Mmm. She's here already?" Jean yawned, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she landed on the final step, hand in hand with Scott.

"Still as punctual as ever," he smiled.

"I'll say," Ororo grinned, crossing her robe over her chest, "She wasn't supposed to show up for another week."

Logan was less amused.

No one should have that much energy on a weekend.

Even still, he quietly settled himself off to the side, leaning up against a wall while the others joined the crowd.

'You wouldn't get this kinda reception if the President was the one coming...'

"Y'know..." Ororo started, seemingly out of nowhere, as she joined him on the wall. "I think you'll like her... she's just your type."

He turned to her, raising a brow, "Is she, now?"

Despite his playful tone, he wasn't entertaining the idea in the slightest.

All that true love-soulmate bullshit didn't exist for men like him.

He was 136, going on 137, and had loved and lost enough times to realize that at the end of the day, he'd outlive her.

So why bother?

His life would be one he forever walked alone—a fact he was slowly coming to terms with.

Or at least he thought he was.

Because as you walked through the threshold before him, flashing a heart-stopping grin, he felt all that shit go flying out his head.

You were absolutely beautiful.

And you'd think after 200 years he'd learn...

"Surprise!" the children cheered, proudly holding up their signs and tossing confetti into the air. "Welcome home!"

You gasped, dropping your bags and covering your mouth in shock as you admired the homemade decorations.

"Kids, you shouldn't have!" you smiled brighter than the sun, letting out a small laugh as they all rushed you for a group hug.

And, of course, you were happy to oblige.

"It's good to see you, (y/n)," Scott greeted, he and Jean walking over.

(y/n).

The name sounded like honey on his tongue.

"Logan," Ororo smirked, elbowing her friend in the rib. "You're drooling."

The man cleared his throat, closing his mouth and averting his eyes so they couldn't embarrass him any further.

"Some of you have gotten so big since we last met!" you cheesed, pulling back to examine each of them. "And I see some new faces, too..."

But, against his will, Logan's gaze trailed back to you, Jean's speech going in one ear and out the other.

And when it landed on your face again, he realized he wasn't the only one staring.

Your soft, (e/c) eyes were trained on him as well, their flicker of curiosity and awe completely contrasting your composed demeanor.

It made him feel hot, being subject to your gaze, and he could feel himself thoughtlessly straightening his posture, making himself appear taller, and slightly larger.

You let out a silent laugh, discreetly bringing a hand to your lips to cover it, but not before letting the man get a peak of your smile once more.

Fuck, that smile.

"Can you two quit eye-fucking? It's gross," Scott groaned, joining the two on the wall.

Logan ignored him, looking toward you with a small smirk.

Something about you gave him a good feeling... like things would be different.

Maybe love could exist for him after all...

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

...ready for it? - j.l. howlett

a/n: hi! here's a full version of a blurb i wrote a few days ago that got so much love so quick that i wanted to give yall a full version! the beginning is literally just the blurb but after that it's all new! like many of you wolverine brainrot has hit me hard, so here's graphic smut about him. leave a comment or a reblog if you enjoyed :) warnings: SMUT!!!!! some dumbification, use of pet names, reader is fem, reader is a mutant and able to control plants, lots of cursing, lots of grotesque fliritng/fantasies, some soft moments, some sort of primal sex, oral (fem receiving), some of the setting is probs inaccurate but whatever. let me know if i missed any big ones!! word count: 4.9 k summary: well, you had to find some way of entertaining yourself at charles xavier's school for gifted youngsters. and you have always liked an emotionally unavailable, absolutely hung, challenge. pairing: logan howlett x mutant!reader now playing: ...ready for it? - taylor swift "in the middle of the night, in my dreams/you should see the things we do, baby/in the middle of the night in my dreams/i know i'm gonna be with you, so i take my time"

You are absolutely enthralled with him. It’s actually sort of pathetic how your fingers twitch at the sight of him, at how the mention of his name or god forbid the sound of his voice makes your head snap up, attention deficit disorders be damned!

Funnily enough, you had no damn interest in Xavier’s stupid mutant school, because to you, you’re not an outsider because of your mutant abilities (that don’t have much of a physical apparition, at least one that you can’t hide) but because there’s never been much of a place for you to fit in.

But, you were behind on rent and of course, you fucking hate your job, so why not? You’d be able to be slightly less of a freak, and you’d get free room and board in the process! (Where Charles gets all of his money, you do not know.)

And because you’re a little older, Charles doesn’t force you to sit in a class room to learn about basic arithmetic and grammar lessons, so you really only do some training around three times a day, you have your own room (with a dusty box under the other bed, you also suspect your room used to be the ‘sex’ room) and you have the weekends off.

So for a twenty something year old with few ambitions, the social skills of a Martian with autism, and a huge crush on every older emotionally unavailable man you meet, it’s a pretty good set-up.

You’re waiting for time to pass in the garden, just reading a rather interesting book that Charles had recommended after he noticed you needed something to pass time before you started making bad decisions.

You hear his heavy footsteps on the gravel before you see him. Your heart beats faster, but you will yourself, do everything in your power not to glance up at him. And you let out a breath as you succeed, keeping your head down.

“In your natural habitat, are you, spitfire?” Your head darts up to him—There’s no way he isn’t talking to you, you know you’re the only one in this garden. And you can see his lips twitch up and you want to crawl out of your skin!

“My-My natural habitat?” You laugh, closing the book you’re reading because your attention is locked to him now.

“Yeah, seems like it.” He saunters on up to you and sits on the bench next to you.

And let’s make something very clear—

Logan Howlett does not sit.

This man poses, as if there’s always some invisible camera capturing every frame of movement, from the way his legs spread out, to the way his chest lifts when he inhales.

Fuck, you think you might die if you can’t suck him off right now.

“And what exactly is my uh.. habitat?” You question.

He takes out his lighter and a cigar, placing the cigar in his mouth as he gestures to the space around the two of you, lighter in hand.

“A garden.” He says, matter of facility, as his voice is muffled only the slightest bit by the cigar.

And you just sort of look at him before asking,

“Oh, you enjoy being boiled down to your mutations, Claws?” You question, and as he goes to light the cigar, he smirks.

“Alright, you gotta admit though, it is cliché!”

You are absolutely in agreement, there is zero doubt you are as much of a walking, breathing, real life living, stereotype.

“It is not!” And the pair of you give each other this look, like you’re both shocked at how whiney that statement is!

“Uh-huh, sure, Spitfire.” It sounds almost like he’s purring at you.

When he lights his cigar, he’s sort of eying you for your reaction, whatever you might say.

“You know, smoking is not only bad for you, it’s awful for the environment.”

“You’re probably the most cliché little freak around here.” Which.. honestly..? Shouldn’t possibly turn you on as much as it does.

You just stare at him for a minute, and he smirks.

“Cat got your tongue?’

And maybe it’s stupid and maybe it’s immature but your hand just comes over to fiddle with the pointed part of his hair.

“We’ll you certainly look the part.” He just looks at you, and honestly? The way he’s looking at you, it’s like he’s proud of you for teasing him.

“Aw, there’s my little spitfire,” He teases, just to see how red you get. And red you are— it’s embarrassing. And here’s the kicker—You are young. Exceptionally young, and what’s insane about that? How horny it makes both you and Logan.

The idea of fucking your innocent cunt, tight and all his, drives him genuinely mad. And you are, quite literally, a whore for the idea of riding this older man’s dick. You know he’s big—sometimes you see the outerline of it when he walks away from you all huffy and puffy.

“You’re a tease, Claws.” You respond, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Says you,” he raises and eyebrow, leaning closer to you now, “You’re the one laying around in the sun, looking like that.”

“Looking like this?” You scoff. You’re wearing a muscle tee and a pair of ripped jeans, but the gaps are huge and he can see your thighs. He wants to devour you, and you would let him if he only asked.

And let’s be clear—he is fucking you with his eyes. There’s no way to go around it.

“I think you’re just.. horny.” You tease, and he just growls. Seriously, this man who is undressing you with his eyes, growls, because he does want you and he is horny!

“I think you’re onto something.” He purrs, and you want to just.. god. You don’t know how to express the pit of desire that grows in you. “I would fuck you until you couldn’t think, right here among your pretty flowers. Would you like that, baby?” he asks, his hand finding your thigh.

But you just cough on the smoke from his cigar, before frowning.

“You really shouldn’t smoke.”

“Aw, I’ll make it up to you.” He smirked. “Promise, spitfire.”

He’s very close to you now, so you take a second to just breath and you know that he knows that he’s got you—hook, line, and sweet, sweet sinker.

And then you realize what exactly it is that you’ve gotten yourself into. And what a nightmare it is—Or maybe a dream if you listen to the pathetic part of your brain, but you are into this an in a way that is concerning for your own mental wellbeing and desperately want to avoid him having all the power in this situation.

“Oh, I am sure you will.” You assure. You lean forward, plucking the cigar from his lips, and placing it on the ground, squashing it beneath your heel. With a flick of your wrist, vines and grass grow over the cigar, composting it. And from the vines, grows a small little buttercup flower.

You lean down and pluck the flower from the grass, before tucking it behind Logan’s ear.

“You should take care of that hard-on you have, Claws.” You hum, before standing up, and walking away. And for a minute, he just watches you go—partly to because you have an amazing ass, but partly because you have absolutely flabbergasted him.

And have made him want you even more.

• • •

The next time you see him is the next night, in the woods near the mansion. Because the literal sixteen year olds you go to ‘school’ with do not know how to do anything on the weekend except drink, fuck, and smoke.

Honestly, you kind of fit in great.

So here you are, nursing a mason jar of.. some fucked up concoction, and you’re not too sure what’s in it, but you have drunk two of them and are on your third. You think you might live forever, until you glance up and see Logan, in these fuck me jeans and this burnt orange flannel and a wife beater.

Instantly, you know that you’ll die tonight if you don’t have him.

He approaches you with this cocky smirk as if he hasn’t realized your intoxicated state yet.

“Now what’s a little spitfire like you doing all alone on a Friday night?” he questions, tilting his head. His smirk is deadly. And you roll your eyes.

“Here comes the big bad Wolverine, all bark and no bite.” You scoff, and his eyes flash with surprise. Only for a second, but even drunk, you notice the way his eyes shoot up in surprise.

“All bark and no bite? That’s quite the accusation.” He hums.

“Well, we’ve been.. eye fucking each other for a few weeks now, and you haven’t even kissed me yet. I get being into foreplay and edging, but holy shit, Claws, throw a girl a bone once in a while.” You scoff, and for a moment, he just looks at you.

“Are you.. drunk?”

“Do you think I’m drunk?”

“Yeah, you’re drunk.” He sighs. You respond by taking another sip of your drink, but before the bitter liquor hits your tongue, he snatches the bottle from you.

“Let me take you home.” You’re sure your eyes look like hearts, so, dreamily and a little love struck, you respond,

“’Kay.”

And he chuckles a little bit at that.

“We’re not gonna do anything, I’m just gonna walk you home, spitfire.” He starts, and your face falls a little bit, but in an effort to hide it, you respond,

“..’kay.” And he sees right through you. You’re pretty much an open book. And the alcohol doesn’t help. His pointer finger and thumb comes to your chin, and he gently rubs his thumb against your lip.

“Don’t be like that, pup. It’ll happen soon. Just not tonight, okay?” He assures.

“’Kay.” You answer softly, and you think he smiles at you but your vision is sort of blurry. Then, you blink, as a gust of wind moves through the trees, sending a shiver down your spine. He sighs, and wordlessly takes off his flannel, before wrapping it around you. Your arms slip into the sleeves, and you almost cry because it’s like, the best hug in the entire world. “Won’t.. you be cold, then?” you question, and he just shakes his head.

“Let’s get you home, spitfire.” He holds a handout to you, and without a second thought, you take his hand. He wraps his arm around you, and you lean against him like it’s something the two of you do often. If you were sober, you might short circuit. But, you’re not, so it feels right.

The walk home is quiet, but Logan’s thumb gently rubs against your shoulder. He wants to do more, but he knows he shouldn’t, since you are in fact plastered.

You ignore the giggles and whispers from teenagers making their way past you to the party or to their rooms, and you even ignore the way their giggles stop when they meet Logan’s gaze.

When you get back to your room, you take a second to lean against the door, and he takes a second to admire the way you look in his clothes.

“Ready for bed?” he asks gently, and you just smile at him.

“You’re really pretty.” He just does the half scoff-half chuckle that you’re obsessed with. Then, he wraps his arm around you again, opening the door to your room, and guiding you inside. He gets you to your bed and sits you down, before kneeling in front of you to untie your boots. “Has anyone ever told you how good you look on your knees?” you ask.

He just gives you this smirk.

“One or two pretty girls back in the day.” He says, “None as pretty as you though, spitfire.” He says, and you groan, leaning back and laying on the bed, as he pulls off your boots.

“You’re awful.” And you need him.

“Yes, I know, baby.” His voice is almost condescending, and it turns you on. But then he stands up, grabbing the folded blanket from the edge of your bed, and laying it over you. He finds his place kneeling next to you again as you stare at him, cozy in bed. His hands gently brush hair from your face. “Do you need anything else?”

“You.”

“Soon. But not yet, pup. You’re too drunk.” He says softly.

“Thanks for walking me home, Claws.”

“You’re very welcome, Spitfire.” He purrs, leaning forward and kissing your forehead gently. “I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Logan.” You mumble as you drift off to sleep. He sits there for a few minutes, just looking at you for a long time before he gets up and creeps out of your room.

• • •

The next morning, you sit in the cafeteria, drinking a large coffee, and nursing the worst hangover, possibly of your life. Made even worse by the fractions of memories about what happened last night.

You rub your eyes, flinching when you hear the clatter of a plate on the table, and someone sitting across from you. You peek through the gaps of your fingers to see Logan sitting across from you, a smirk on his face.

He opens his mouth to say something but you beat him to it.

“I hate you. Shut up.”

“I didn’t even say anything!” he laughs. But he sees how much pain you’re in, and slides two pieces of sourdough toast to you. “Truce?”

“Truce.” You agree, taking a slice and biting into it. You feel better.

And after a moment of silence, he asks,

“I’m never getting my flannel back, am I?”

Truthfully, the flannel has been folded neatly and tucked into your drawer, for the next time you need some comfort.

You tilt your head, looking right into his eyes.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

• • •

Weeks go by like this.

You spend your days either going to class or hanging out—okay, it’s more like flirting with a side of hanging out, with Logan. The pair of you become quite close, and maybe that’s why you haven’t fucked yet.

Oh, the two of you want to, and it’s obvious to everyone (Charles has called you out for being distracted more times than you can count, and you remind him not to probe your mind, and he tells you he does not need his mutant abilities to see that your thoughts linger elsewhere.) but you’re.. afraid, at this point.

Which is odd, because you’re no virgin, you know he wants you, but.. what if everything changes after that? Maybe he’ll start to avoid you. Maybe you’ll start to avoid him. And you’ve really become good friends, and don’t want to lose it.

And then, there���s the fact that half the time, he’s away on dangerous missions, and even if he can regenerate, you worry about him. But he hasn’t been on any lately, so it’s like waiting for the other shoe to drop.

You’re sitting in the garden when it happens.

He finds you, and this time, you do not even try to hide the way your head picks up and gazes at him.

“Hi, Spitfire.” He grins, and you smile a bit at him.

“Claws, what can I do for you?” And he sits next to you, and for some reason, maybe because he doesn’t say anything at first, you know that there is something wrong. And you know what it is.

After a few minutes, you glance to him.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” Your voice is quiet, as if you’re scared that if it gets any louder, everything will fall apart.

“Yeah. Charles has me going on another mission.” He doesn’t say it, but you both know this isn’t an involuntary thing.

“Cool.” You cringe at your reaction.

“I guess.” He laughs weakly, as if he knows he’s twisting a knife buried within you.

Silence fills the air. It’s not necessarily uncomfortable, but it isn’t the relaxed silence you’re used to with him. Confessions dance on the tips of your tongues, and you’re so close to saying it, that when you turn to each other suddenly, you just need to look at each other for a second.

“Be safe.” You say quietly. “And hurry back.” You request, and you try not to sound like you’re begging.

“Of course.” He says, like it perplexes him that you even have to request. “I can’t leave you here yearning for me forever, can I?” He teases, and for a moment, you have this flash of an alternate universe where he does die on this mission and you are trapped in this garden forever, waiting for him. Like a lost puppy, or worse, a lost lover. The mere thought of it fucks with your head.

“No. You can’t. I won’t allow it.” You explain, “If anything, I’m the one that should be haunting you.” He just smiles. A real, not at all awkward smile.

“I’m sure you will, spitfire.” He says, and his head comes forward so that his forehead is resting against yours.

“When do you leave?” You ask gently, and he sighs. His breath smells of mint and cigar smoke, maybe even a hint of lemon.

“An hour. I have to pack quick and then debrief.” He answers you.

And just as love struck as you were the night of the party, you answer,

“’Kay.” You smile weakly at him. And he just.. looks at you for a few minutes before sighing again. He pulls away and leans up to kiss your forehead again, before standing up. He turns a few steps away from you just to tease you.

“Don’t miss me too much, okay?” he requests softly. Before you can stop yourself, you stand up, and wrap your arms around him. He only pauses for a half a second before he returns your embrace, and it becomes apparent that you both needed this moment. You stay like this for a few minutes before you pull away.

“Bring me back a souvenir.” You try, a soft smile on your face.

“Yeah, don’t worry. I’ll bring you something great from the great city of Tulsa, Ohklahoma.” He grins.

“Deal.”

“Deal.”

• • •

For the next week, you feel like this must be what it was like for housewives when their husbands went to war. You knew all too well that that statement was extremely dramatic, but you simply cannot help yourself.

You think you might die by day three.

It’s like you’re going through withdrawals and it’s making you go genuinely insane.

You have worn this man’s flannel for almost the entire week, because at first you’re a little self-conscious of other people noticing your repeating outfits, but only at first. By day four, you have decided you don’t give a single fuck.

Day eight you’re just laying in bed, quietly making a list of all the positions you want him to take you in. It’s a long list. You’re brought back to reality by a knock on your door. You’re about to snap, knowing that you’ll tell whatever child has been sent to bother you to scram, but when you open the door, you grin widely.

Logan stands there, looking tired, but he’s smiling and holding up a shot glass that reads ‘Tusla’, and has skyline on it.

“Didn’t I tell you I’d get you a souvenir?” He asks, and you can’t help but wrap your arms around him, pulling him in. He hugs you back, making sure to squeeze you just a bit—your feet barely come off the ground.

He pulls away, and you grin up to him.

“You came back.” You say it as if you can barely believe it, and just for a moment, he feels an emotion he can’t quite place, but he ignores it.

“Of course I came back, spitfire. All in one piece too, as requested.” He grins, and you’re just.. amazed at the look of him. “What’s that look for?” He asks gently, tilting his head.

“I just..” you start.

And then you break.

You lean up and kiss him gently, those stupidly delicious sideburns making your stomach flip. He doesn’t waste time, kissing you back, his arms around your waist. After a minute, you pull away.

“Sorry. I’m kind of done playing that game of waiting for you to kiss me. I just got the first hit of you I’ve had all week, and I feel fucking amazing.” You confess, and sure, it’s not a big grand love confession with tears and poetry, but your words make him kiss you so intensely that you start backing into your room, his hands exploring your body as you tug off his leather jacket, a new flannel for you to steal coming off soon after.

He keeps kissing you as his hands come down to your jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping them, before gently pushing you to sit on the bed. He kneels in front of you, and begins to tug off your boots again, then, on your jeans.

You grin.

“You know, I’m getting the oddest sense of déjà vu. Something about you looking great on your knees.” You tease, and he just tugs off your jeans in one strong swoop, before leaning in to bite your thigh. You gasp, your hands coming up to tug his hair.

Then, he begins to tug at your panties, and you tilt his head up, glancing at him.

“What are you doing?”

“Well, before I was interrupted, I was about to eat you out.”

“Wait, really?”

He blinks, confused.

“Yeah. Is that a, uh.. problem..?” He hasn’t gotten any complaints yet.

“I just.. I didn’t think guys actually did that, I thought it was just.. a porno thing.” And at this, the man who is about to burry his face between your thighs, laughs. And not just a chuckle, this man hollars. “What’s so funny, claws?” You ask, a little suspicious.

“Nothing,” he promises, “I am just going to take such good care of you, pup.”

“I’m holding you to that, claws.” And then, he leans in and begins to kiss your thighs, gently biting down here and there. Then, he licks a stripe along your cunt, and you let out this loud moan, and your hand comes up to clamp over your mouth, but he reaches up to grab your hand, lacing his fingers with yours.

He pulls away to lecture you. Lecture you. On his knees. Head between your thighs.

“Nuh-uh, I wanna hear all the pretty noises you can make for me.” Then, softer, he adds, “Never been eaten out before, fuckin’ travesty.” He mumbles, before leaning in to lick your cunt again, beginning to lap his tongue over your throbbing heat.

His nose rubs against your clit, and it’s enough to drive you genuinely crazy. You’re unsure how you’ve gotten to this point in your life without having your pussy worshipped like this, but with him around, you’re pretty sure you’ll never go another day without it.

His tongue continues to work magic on your cunt, as his nose presses against your clit, stimulating you to the point of making you see stars.

Your hands tug at his hair, and the moan that it elicits from him is enough to send vibrations through your cunt through your stomach. Your head leans back as you moan, and for a moment, you hope there is no mutant in this mansion with super hearing.

His free hand grips your thigh as he bends your leg back to get better access, as he continues to eat you out. The mere taste of you is enough to drive him crazy—He almost wants to start thrusting into the side of your bed, he’s so hard, but he ignores that urge to continue to eat you out.

“Mm—Lo, I—I’m gonna—”

He just hums into your cunt, giving your thigh a gentle squeeze of approval, before his tongue moves even faster (if that’s even possible, though, he is an amazingly surprising man), and suddenly—

You feel a release you have been waiting for weeks, and it is fucking phenomenal. And the Wolverine just licks up all your cum, even if it makes your thighs shake, but honestly, he doesn’t care and neither do you. For a moment, you just listen to the sound of your own pants.

After a minute, you are able to look at him, and he just looks up to you with the same smirk that has been torturing you for all of those weeks. And you just have to pull him up to kiss you, like it’s the only way you’ll be able to live.

As you kiss him, you pull off his wifebeater and then your hands rest on the sides of his face as he pulls off your shirt as well, before his hands begin to make quick work of his belt, wanting to skip all of the pleasantries and just fuck you.

But when he finally gets his jeans off, you pull away, and he stares at you like you’re crazy.

“What the fuck could possibly be more important than me fucking you stupid?”

“Will you just.. let me look at you?” You scoff, your eyes flickering over him to just memorize every square inch of his body. He humors you for a few minutes, standing there with his hands on hips before he leans in and cages you in with his arms.

“Show’s over, spitfire.” He purrs, leaning in to kiss you, slowly making his way closer to you so that you’re laying back on your bed. At some point during the kiss, his boxers come off, and when you feel his cock against your cunt, you moan into the kiss, and you can feel his smirk against your lips.

Oh, you could kill him. But, you suspect maybe he’ll get to you first.

After he kisses you for a few minutes, he pulls away to tell—not ask, tell you, “I’m going to fuck you now.” And you know your line.

“’Kay.” He grins at this and kisses you again, before lining himself up and starting slowly. He just has the tip inside of you, and you begin to moan, your grip on his shoulders tightening. You already feel entirely too full, and he slowly agonizingly slowly pushes into you, and he sees how his size makes your face twitch,

“Shh, shh, I know, pup. Deep breathes for me, bub,” he says softly, such a stark contract to his rough movements, as he bottoms out and has his entire cock inside of you. And he gives you a second, watching as your face relaces, adjusting to the size of him. “Okay?” He asks, and you nod.

“’Kay,” You assure, and he kisses your forehead.

“’Kay.” He responds, and before you can tease him for it, he begins to thrust into you, slowly as first, but he continues to quicken his pace. Your nails begin to scratch on his back, and he lets out this angelic moan—You must’ve died and went to heaven.

As his thrusts quicken, the lines quickly blur between quick ruts and an animalistic need, manifesting itself in the way he fucks you. You know you won’t last long, especially when his fingers find your clit and begin to rub it again.

“Fuck! Oh my god—”

“I know, baby, I know,” he coos, his free hand coming to your thigh to lift your leg up, only for better access to your throbbing cunt, “God, I love the feeling of you around me.. Worth the wait, I promise.” He grumbles, as he thrusts into you, his only goal to make you cum.

You want to respond to that—To tease him, to make him feel as shy as you do, but he has completed his goal of fucking you stupid.

All you can do is respond, “Fuck—I’m gonna—”

“I know, baby, go ahead, cum for me,” he requests softly, leaning in to press a rather jarringly sweet kiss to your lips.

As you cum around his cock, he shudders, the look of you, laying there fucked dumb, is almost too much for him to bear.

“I’m gonna fill you up, pup,” he tells you, and all you can do is moan in response, which makes him come that much closer to the edge. After a few more thrusts, with a euphoric moan that will haunt you forever, his hot cum fills you up, leaving the pair of you clawing at each other, wanting more.

When you’re both finally finished riding out your high, Logan lays next to you, keeping you close. His grip on you is tight—possessive. When you finally find your voice, you ask,

“You’re not gonna turn me into a booty call, are you, claws?”

And he laughs.

“No,” he says, pressing a kiss to your head. “You’re gonna be my best girl, Spitfire.”

“Does this mean I get to steal another of your flannels?”

“I’ll give you my whole fucking wardrobe to see how many times I can make you cum.”

[sunuism]

every once in a while i’m like.. i never know when i’ll meet someoen… these kinds of things happen so randomly… but it just never happens to me

[itadorey]

𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮

𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭. 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐧𝐢

pairing: geto suguru x f!reader summary: moments between you and geto, and how you inevitably ended up in his bed. genre: smut, college au, ends in fluff, geto is whipped tbh notes/warnings: mdni, vaginal sex, squirting, creampie, praise kink!, mentions of womanizer gojo bc it makes me giggle, somewhat flirty geto, flirty gojo, shoko smokes, mentions of alcohol, first time posting smut pls be nice it's mid at best. rushed and barely edited!! yes this is a repost oops. wc: ~4.9k

i.

if someone had told you five months ago that you would eventually end up in geto suguru's bed, you would've laughed in their face.

the names geto suguru and gojo satoru were notorious across your campus, and yet you had never interacted with them before you met ieiri shoko. gojo satoru was known for his flirtatious tendencies, and with a simple smile and a flash of his bright, blue eyes he was able to get most people fall for him. he had no shortage of admirers or flings, and he took great pride in the fact that none of his short-lived romances had ever ended badly.

geto suguru, on the other hand, had rarely been seen pursuing anyone. there were rumors, of course, of the lucky individuals that had gotten to spend the night with him, but geto had never taken it upon himself to confirm or deny any of them.

you couldn't care less about either one of their love lives, but no matter what classes you took and no matter who you sat next to, they always became a topic of conversation.

"so, are you going?"

you looked up from your notes to see your seatmate— mika, you think her name was— looking at you curiously. you gave her a puzzled look, earning an exasperated one in return before she leaned in.

"to the party tonight?" she whispered conspiratorially. "you know, the one gojo and geto are hosting?"

"no," you replied, turning back to your notes in hopes of ending the conversation. the truth was that you were attending, you were just hoping to get in, get tipsy, and leave before anything interesting could happen. in addition to being attractive, gojo satoru was also loaded, and that usually meant that he supplied all the alcohol at his parties without demanding some sort of payment from anyone who attended. as a broke college student, who were you to turn down free alcohol?

"you should," mika continued, a soft giggle leaving her lips as she jotted down some notes. "i heard geto will actually be there this time. something about it being in his honor."

your nose scrunched at her soft sigh, and she gave you a look of disbelief when you remained unimpressed with her news.

"you know, he barely shows up to these things, even though he lives there," she pressed on, biting her lip as she giggles.

"look," you said, not unkindly. "i'm gonna be honest with you; i could not care less about either one of them."

mika huffed before turning away, and you sighed in relief when she made no effort to continue the conversation. you looked away when you hear a snort coming from your left, and you raised your gaze to meet a pair of tired, brown eyes.

"not a fan of gojo and geto?" the girl asked, earning an amused laugh from you.

"i wouldn't know," you replied truthfully, shrugging casually. "never met 'em."

you watched as the girl barked out a laugh at your response, holding out a hand for you to shake. "i like you. i'm ieiri shoko."

you gave her your name as you shook her hand, your conversation coming to an abrupt end when your professor walked in. you smiled to yourself when the lecture eventually ended, watching as mika hurried out of class after giving you an unimpressed look.

"so, are you really not going to the party?" shoko asked, falling into step with you as you left the building. you watched as she pulled out a pack of cigarettes, placing one between her lips before offering one to you. you shook you head lightly as she patted her pants pockets. "you wouldn't happen to have a lighter, would you?"

"of course i'm going," you replied, rummaging through your backpack for your lighter. you handed it to her with a smirk, earning a raised eyebrow in return as she lights the stick between her lips. "i'd be an idiot not to. i just wanted mika to stop talking."

"i guess i'll see you there," shoko mused, placing your lighter back into the palm of your hand as you came to a crosswalk. "look for me when you get there, yeah? you seem like good company."

you nodded your head as she waved, walking off in the opposite direction you were headed toward. you made it through the rest of your day without incident, making sure to grab an early dinner before taking a quick shower and lying down.

a quick glance at your clock let you know that it was nearing eight, and you sighed loudly before standing up and walking over to your closet to pick out your outfit. you took your time getting ready, music blasting as you finally slipped on your shoes and ordered a ride.

by the time you arrived at the party, it was in full swing. you could feel the bass thumping from where you stood on the sidewalk, and you quickly made your way to the front door in an attempt to escape form the cold wind.

you made a beeline towards the kitchen, resolving to get a drink first before looking for shoko. you hummed along to the song that was playing as you grabbed a cheap plastic cup, pouring yourself whatever what in the bottle closest to you. you slowly made your way out of the kitchen, raising the cup to your lips before catching sight of mika. you jolted lightly, placing your cup on the nearest table when you saw her turn your way before you ducked into a hallway.

a quiet grunt left your lips when you collided against something hard, and you felt yourself tilting backwards before a strong set of hands landed on your waist to steady you.

"woah there, are you okay?"

you glanced up to see geto suguru standing in front of you, an amused smile on his face as he studied you. you shot another glance into the main room, sighing in relief when you realized mika was no longer visible.

"yeah," you mumbled, straightening up and facing geto once more. "i'm good."

it was silent for a few seconds as geto followed your previous line of sight, his hands still resting comfortably on your waist. he turned back when you tapped his shoulder awkwardly, and you were met with the same amused smile still present on his face. he hummed in acknowledgement, looking down at you curiously as you leaned back slightly.

"you can let go now."

"my apologies," geto replied smoothly, his hands lingering for a few seconds before he pulled away. "just wanted to make sure you were okay. i'm—"

"i see you've met geto."

you peeked behind geto's broad frame to see shoko leaning against the wall across from you, and you watched as a look of mild surprise crossed geto's face.

"you two know each other?" he asked, earning nods from the two of you in return. the surprise on his face melted away into a charming smile, and he held his hand out for you to shake. "the pleasure is all mine."

you shook his hand lightly, nodding at him before turning back to shoko. you handed her your lighter wordlessly, and she gave you a grin before beckoning for you to follow her. the two of you exited out the back door, making your way towards the bordering fence as geto followed.

"i haven't seen you around before," geto commented casually, earning a suspicious look from shoko as he attempted to make conversation with you. he gave her a lopsided smile, tilting his head towards you briefly as shoko scoffed at him.

"don't go out much," you mumbled, giving him a dull look at you shrugged.

"why? overprotective boyfriend?" geto asked, earning an amused look from you at his boldness. you chuckled lightly, shaking your head as you crossed your arms.

"more like an overly comfy bed," you retorted, watching as he nodded at your words.

"i'm sure mine is comfier. i can show you, if you'd like," he responded slyly, a handsome smile on his face as he leaned in slightly.

"nah, i'm good."

geto blinked once, twice, three times at your words, staring at you in confusion as shoko's laughter rang in his head.

"what?" he asked dumbly, straightening up when shoko clapped him on the shoulder.

"i'm good," you repeated, giving him a small smile. "thanks for the offer but i'm here for the booze, not the guys."

"i've never seen this happen before," shoko breathed, stomping out her cigarette as her eyes lit up. "oh my god, i have to find satoru."

you watched shoko as she darted away, geto's eyes still on you as he composed himself. he shoved his hands into his pockets before backing away, still reeling from your rejection as you gave him one last look.

"i'm gonna go look for shoko," you mumbled, giving him a small wave before following after her. geto watched as you moved further and further away, his curiosity peaking as he waited for you to turn back and send him one last look. it never came, and he felt his stomach twist in disappointment.

ii.

"wanna grab lunch?" shoko asked, packing her stuff up as class ended. you nodded wordlessly, zipping your backpack up before slinging it over your shoulder.

"what did you have in mind?" you asked, heading towards the door.

"what about onigiri?"

you and shoko looked up to see geto by the door, his eyes on you as gojo stood beside him waving enthusiastically. a defeated sigh escaped shoko's mouth, and she hooked her arm with yours as she pulled you towards the two boys.

"only if you pay," shoko mumbled, not even having the energy to argue against geto. he gave her an innocent smile as gojo slung an arm over shoko's shoulders, effectively pulling her away from you as he shot you a curious gaze.

"have we met before? you look familiar," gojo asked, his eyebrows furrowing as he looked at you over his sunglasses. you opened your mouth to respond, stopping when he suddenly snapped his fingers. "i know! i've seen you in my dreams."

a surprised laugh left your lips as shoko groaned, and you grinned at gojo as you started walking.

"i totally haven't heard that one before," you commented, saying your name as gojo laughed.

"gojo satoru, but you can call me any time," he said, winking at you as you shook your head with a smile. you missed the way gojo stuck his tongue out at geto.

"don't get your hopes up," you replied, earning an exaggerated pout from gojo. you looked to your side when geto fell into step next to you, giving him a friendly nod as the two of you followed after gojo and shoko. you snorted as you noticed shoko's bored look, the occasional hum coming from her lips as gojo talked her ear off.

"how was class?"

you hummed when you heard geto speak, turning to look at him as he repeated his question.

"your class," he said quietly, glancing at you before turning back to look at his friends. "how was it?"

"it went well," you responded, eyeing him for a few seconds before following his gaze. "a little confusing, but shoko is crazy smart."

"she wants to be a doctor, y'know," geto said softly, a proud smile tugging at his lips. you glanced at him briefly, your eyes softening at the look on his face. "she's the smartest one out of all of us."

"i'm sure she'll be the best doctor," you said honestly. "if she ever quits smoking."

geto laughed at your comment, nodding in agreement as you came to a stop. you joined shoko at a table, nodding absentmindedly as gojo announced that he and geto would go grab the food.

"so?" shoko asked as soon as they were out of sight.

"so what?" you questioned, giving her a confused look.

"now that you've met geto and gojo," shoko began, waving a hand in the direction they had disappeared. "are you a fan?"

"they're not the worst," you admitted, receiving an amused hum in return. "they're huge flirts, but they're okay once you get past that."

shoko nodded in satisfaction just at the two boys reappeared, sliding into the empty seats next to you. you listened closely as gojo rattled off the different kinds they had gotten. you perked up when you heard your favorite ingredient, and you shyly asked if you could have that one.

gojo gave you a funny look before turning to shoko, mumbling something to her as geto held his hand out, the onigiri in hand. you thanked him with a smile, the four of you eating silently as you basked in the sun.

the silence was broken when gojo's phone went off, and his eyes widened briefly before he scarfed down the rest of his food and stood up.

"well we have to get to class," he proclaimed, tugging geto out of his seat before walking away. he paused briefly, sending you one last smile before waving. "it was nice to meet you! we should do this again, but it should just be me and you next time."

you rolled your eyes at his words, briefly catching the hard look on geto's face as you waved them off and turned back to look at shoko. she had the same funny look on her face that gojo did earlier as she looked at the two boys, humming thoughtfully before turning to you.

"you know, that's geto's favorite filling too," she commented, motioning towards your discarded wrapper with a tilt of her head. your eyebrows raised slightly, missing the insinuation behind her words as she sighed. "he always gets the same filling and refuses to eat anything else. i didn't think he'd actually give it to you."

you remained quiet after her statement, picking up the trash before tossing it into the bin next to your table. "there's a first time for everything, i guess."

"who knows," shoko mused, giving you a playful look as she stood up. "maybe he likes you."

iii.

shoko quickly became a constant in your life, and with her came gojo and geto.

"we're a package deal!" gojo had said when you made a comment about seeing them every single day. "you either get all of us, or none of us."

you couldn't find it in yourself to complain, especially not when the three of them turned out to be good friends. once you got used to the flirting, gojo was kind and funny, always knowing how to cheer you up. shoko was as blunt and honest as ever, and with her help, you were able to raise your grade in the classes the two of you shared.

geto was a different story. unlike gojo, he had never flirted with you after that night at the party, and you couldn't help but feel a little disappointed about it as you spent more time with him.

no one knew how, but you and geto quickly became study buddies. he was more serious than gojo, helping you stay focused, but less strict than shoko, who liked to use tough love to help you retain information. the two of you spent many afternoons at the library, sometimes joined by shoko or gojo, but mostly alone.

you quickly learned that geto was smart, almost frighteningly so, and he had a natural talent for teaching. his voice was soft and pleasant, his tone patient as you asked him to explain concepts you couldn't quite grasp. your study sessions usually ended in dinners together, grabbing whatever you could get from the university's food court.

he was also caring, always making sure to walk you home if your studying ran late. this often resulted in teasing looks from gojo, a pout on his face as he made kissy noises whenever the two of you would leave him behind. he always made sure you walked on the inner side of the sidewalk and he wouldn't leave you alone until he was sure your door was locked, and as the days dragged on, you found yourself becoming more and more attracted to geto suguru.

"you don't get it!" you complained, flopping onto your bed as shoko flipped through a magazine. "he's so— ugh."

"so ugh?" shoko repeated teasingly, watching as you tilted your head back to look at her.

"shoko!" you whined, throwing an arm over your eyes as you huffed. "i thought he was just a flirt. i didn't know he was this charming."

"this is hilarious," shoko commented, ignoring your glare. "remember when you turned him down?"

"he just wanted to hook up," you murmured, sighing softly before sitting up. "now that i've gotten to know him, i'm thinking i should've said yes when i had the chance."

"and who says you don't have a chance now?"

"he doesn't flirt with me!" you exclaim. when you see shoko raise her eyebrow, you elaborate. "he was flirting that night at the party because he was interested. he doesn't say anything that even remotely implies his interest in me anymore. the only one who flirts is gojo!"

"oh, geto definitely has an interest," shoko muttered, earning a curious glance from you. "look, he gives you his favorite foods, tutors you, and even walks you home. i've never seen him do that for anyone else. he wont even tutor satoru! and that's his best friend. if anything, you caught his interest when you turned him down."

shoko's eyes widened in panic when you pouted sadly, your expression falling as you took in her words.

"so he's only interested in me because i'm a challenge?" you asked quietly, earning a frustrated sigh from shoko.

"yes," she answered, getting a sad look from you. "but not in the way you think. he's never had anyone turn him down before you. and then he got to know you and he liked you. i don't think he wants to 'just hook up with you'. he wants to be with you."

"but what if—"

"trust me on this," shoko interrupted. you bit your lip hesitantly before nodding your head. "i think you should start the flirting. if he sees you're interested, then he'll reciprocate. i'm sure of it."

iv.

you felt a vague sense of deja vu as you stepped into gojo and geto's shared house once again, loud music playing as you weaved your way through the crowd.

you were on high alert as you looked for shoko, yet you still jumped when you felt a heavy arm wrap around your shoulders.

"hey!" gojo shouted, leaning in close to make sure you heard him over the loud music. "when did you get here?"

"a minute ago," you responded flatly, the faint smell of alcohol filling your nostrils as gojo hugged you. he giggled softly and you rolled your eyes with a smile, knowing he was probably already tipsy.

"who are you looking for?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows as he gave you a sultry look. "suguru?"

"no!" you denied, feeling your cheeks grow warm at the name. you averted your gaze, missing the way gojo's smile grew at your reaction. he guided you through the crowd and into the kitchen, coming to a stop when you saw shoko and geto leaning against the fridge.

"look who i found!" gojo proclaimed, pushing you in front of shoko and geto. shoko crowed your name with a smile, and you smiled back at her before glancing at geto. you froze slightly when you saw the way his eyes were trailing over your figure, taking in your outfit before his eyes settled on your face. there was a lazy smirk on his face as he nodded his head at you.

"hey," he greeted, his normal volume almost quiet in the loud room.

"hi," you replied, earning a groan from shoko. she walked forward, grasping gojo's arm before tugging him away.

"we're going outside," she announced, frowning when a noise of protest left gojo's lips. she flicked his forehead before glancing at you and geto, and a look of understanding fell across his face before he shut his mouth and followed after her without hesitation.

"you know," geto started, sighing as gojo disappears from sight. "something tells me they're not going outside."

"i feel compelled to agree," you grumbled, earning a chuckle from geto.

"i didn't think you were gonna come," he commented casually, turning to face you as you grabbed a bottle of water.

"oh you know," you said, shrugging half-heartedly as you took a sip. geto's eyes focused on your lips. "i go out occasionally."

"occasionally? why? got an overprotective boyfriend or something?" geto asked, his tone teasing as he repeats the same words he spoke when you first met. you grinned in response, putting your water bottle down on the counter as you crept closer to him.

"no, more like an overly comfy bed," you responded, your heart racing when he leaned down.

"i'm sure mine is comfier. i can show you, if you'd like."

"i would," you said, biting your lip when geto’s eyes widened. he paused briefly before slipping his hand into yours, pulling you out of the kitchen.

neither one of you noticed the way gojo and shoko exchanged a smug look as he led you upstairs.

v.

all of those previous interactions with geto suguru culminated into the position you find yourself in now: in his bed.

a gasp leaves your lips as geto's hands trail underneath your shirt, pulling the fabric up and over your head with one hand as he fondles your breast with the other.

your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as you give him a bruising kiss, feeling his hands slip behind your back to unhook your bra. a hiss leaves your lips as the cool air hits your nipples, and he immediately takes one into his mouth, warm tongue laving over your hardened nipple as you moan.

your hands tug at his shirt, and he separates himself from you briefly to take it off and toss it off to the side, his fingers immediately going down to his belt to undo it. your own hands tug at your pants, pulling your underwear along with it as you kick them off the bed.

geto freezes when he sees you sprawled on his bed, and he licks his lips before reaching our and grabbing your thighs, pulling you flush against his own before dipping a finger in between your folds.

"so wet and i haven't even touched you," he murmurs, enjoying the way you squirm at his touch. "all this for me?"

"yeah," you breathe, biting your lips when you notice geto's eyes darken. "all for you. i need you, geto."

"suguru," he corrects, fingers swirling around your clit as you gasp. "say it."

"need you, suguru," you whimper, watching him with rapt attention as he pumps himself a few times.

"are you sure?" he asks, watching the way you squeeze your eyes shut when the head of his cock brushes against your folds.

"i'm ready. i need you. i can take you."

geto breathes in sharply at your words, his eyes trained on your cunt as he pushes in slowly. you're perfect for him, your warm walls pulling him in as your face scrunches up with pleasure. a soft moan leaves your lips as he circles your clit, burying himself even further into you until his balls rest against your ass.

he remains still for a moment, getting used to feeling of you squeezing him until you start moving your hips against him.

"please move, suguru," you whine, your voice soft and needy in his ears.

"anything for you," he whispers, lowering himself down to kiss you as he intertwines a hand with yours. he swallows your moans as he pulls out, leaving only the tip in before thrusting into you at a harsher pace.

"feels good, suguru," you moan against his lips, your hand squeezing him as he picks up his pace.

"you feel so good, sweetheart," he whispers against your lips. "you're so tight. look at you, taking me so well."

you moan at his words, your cunt clenching around him as he praises you.

"been thinking about this since the night i met you," he confesses, burying his face into the crook of your neck. he lets go of your hand to grab your legs, placing them onto his shoulders as his thrusts get deeper. "i knew this pretty pussy would be perfect for me."

your hands grab at the bedsheets as he keeps a steady rhythms, and geto finds himself fascinated by the way your breasts bounce every time he thrusts into you. he watches as you arch after a particularly deep thrust, and he makes sure to repeat the motion, enjoying the way you mewl as he reaches the deepest parts inside of you.

"suguru!" you cry out, your legs trembling as his fingers tease your clit. "i-i'm close!"

"cum for me," he whispers, eyes focused on your face as you spasm around his cock. you moan softly as he keeps thrusting, helping you ride out your high before he pulls out. you're flipped onto your stomach before you can react, your legs trembling as you try to keep yourself up on all fours.

"do you think you can do that again for me, sweetheart," geto whispers into your ear, his lips trailing down the side of your neck as you nod. "lie down for me, yeah?"

you're squirming as you obey, your face down on the sheets as geto looms over you. his usual half-bun is messy and loose from your earlier tugging, and you can feel the long strands of silky hair tickling your shoulders. his hand feels heavy as it rests on the back of your neck, keeping you in place as the tip of his dick brushes against your clit. a breathy moan leaves your lips, and he smirks as he watches you, stilling momentarily before you feel the head of his cock prod at your folds once again.

you wiggle your hips in an effort to get him to move, whining softly as you try to turn back and look at him. he chuckles lowly, fingers brushing your hair away from your shoulder before he leans down to press a teasing kiss against it. he complies anyways, groaning as he sinks into you and enjoying the way your cunt seems to suck him in.

he wonders if you know that he could never possibly deny you anything.

"harder, suguru," you beg, clenching around him as he grinds into you. "please."

it isn't long until he gives in, rutting into you like it's the only thing he's good for, his balls slapping against your clit with each stroke and sending you into a state of frenzied euphoria. you can feel his hand pushing you down, your back arching obscenely as his other hand creeps between your thighs, skilled fingers expertly nudging at your clit.

"suguru, pleasepleaseplease," you gasp, wiggling your hips to try and get him to go faster. "more, please, i—"

geto knows. he knows exactly what your trying to tell him as he speeds up, the wet sounds of your cunt only spurring him on. there's a creamy ring at the base of his cock, and geto grabs at the fat of your ass in an attempt to stop himself from cumming right then and there.

"suguru!" you squeal, trembling underneath him. "i'm cumming!"

geto grins when you gush all over him, clear liquid spattering all over his abs and thighs, coating his dick and making it easier for him to slip in and out of you. he stills for a brief moment, a low grunt leaving him as he empties himself into you. you whimper softly when he pulls out, and he grabs your chin to tilt your face toward him, pressing a bruising kiss to your lips before leaning back.

"look at you, you did so good for me, gushing all prettily around my cock," he murmurs. he watches as you clench around nothing, his cum dripping down to your clit when you hear his words. he reaches forward to gather it all up, purposely teasing your clit to hear you moan once again.

he makes no complaint when you roll over and grab his hand, licking his fingers clean before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down onto you. the two of you exchange lazy kisses before he rolls over, pulling you onto his chest before giving you a soft look.

"i like you," he says quietly, squeezing your waist as he gives you another kiss. "you know that, right?"

"mhm," you mumble tiredly. "i kinda guessed."

you press another kiss to his lips before resting your head on his chest. "i like you too."

"good," he chuckles, burying his face into your hair. "we should probably get cleaned up."

"yeah," you agree, making no move to get up. the two of you lay in silence for a few minutes, almost drifting off to sleep before you hear a loud knock on the door.

"hey!" gojo's voice is loud through the door. "congrats on the sex!"

ty for reading <3 !!

[s0dium]

PEEPING TOM

A/n: Its good to be back, I also will be doing kink tober! Yay!

Synopsis: In which you find a peephole in your wall, allowing you to spy on your neighbor Gojo Satoru

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: Peeping Tom, mutual masturbation, masturbation, slight dub-con, cervix fucking, unprotected sex, breeding, Dom!Gojo, fingering, rough sex

MINORS DNI

~

The first time it happened, it was an accident.

It was day numero uno in your new dorm at Tokyo Jujutsu High. You were hesitant at first enrolling, being suddenly uprooted from an overall normal life into a world of curses and sorcerers was a, well, definitely a shocking experience for you. In fact, today was a boring blur for you, by the time you were done moving in it was nightfall and the only people you met were principle yaga and an old guy.

So you didn't expect the most exciting part of your day would be finding a peep hole right at eye view of you when you sat up on your bed. 

Of course you pay no attention to it, this was a pretty old Japanese building after all. It was when you were searching up what the hell “spackle was” when you heard a loud “FUCK” coming from the other side of the wall. 

Well that's interesting.

You know it's wrong, you wouldn't want peering in on you. But curiosity got the better of you as you sat down on your bed and aligned your eye with the hole. 

From what you could see, your nameless neighbors room was pretty neat, but your mind went completely blank when a set of abs came into your vision, followed by the side profile of one of the most handsome white haired man you had ever seen.

So yeah, the first time you peeped on your neighbor was a mistake. 

The second time. Not so much. 

~

"Hey! My name is y/n l/n im your neighbor"

Piercing blue eyes look you up and down and your breath catches in your throat. His eyes, framed by a shock of defiantly white hair, hold a mysterious depth that seems to invite you into an endless ocean of secrets. They twinkle with a mischievous glint.  His lips, full and inviting, flash you a devilish smile that hints at an irreverent sense of humor. The white hair man leans on the door frame.

“Ahh so your the new girl”

You gulp, trying to keep your eyes from raking over his well built body that were sporting sweat pants that rode just slightly low on his hips and a black shirt that exposed the tone muscles of his arms. 

Lawd have mercy, we must stay focused, we must stay focused. 

"Yeah uh, I just wanted to get your name, you know, since we are gonna be neighbors and all….." You trail off at the end, fiddling with the ends of your uniform skirt.

You can feel his eyes bore into your head as you averted his gaze. He chuckles and blows out air from his nose in amusement.

“Gojo satoru. You can call me Satoru, since you know, we are going to be neighbors and all” He almost coos mockingly.

You nod and hold out your hand.

“Nice to meet you Satoru.”

~

For the next two weeks you find yourself slowly adjusting into your new life. You spend most of your time either training or hanging out with your new friend Shoko, since you are deemed ‘too new’ for any missions which is fine by you. During this your interactions and conversations with Gojo are kept rather short. You laugh at the jokes he and Geto come up with during class, roll your eyes at the snarky comments he makes about how ‘new’ you are, and occasionally even give him a smile in the hall. But for some reason you can't seem to get him out of your head; your eyes often wandering to stare at the back of his white hair during lessons, watching how his long digits gracefully twirl a pencil around, finding yourself wondering what else he can do with those fingers.

And it is for those very reasons you find yourself lying in your bed, unable to sleep.

Huffing, you sat up in your bed and turned on the light on your night stand. As you leaned toward the wall to grab your phone, that’s when you heard it. 

A faint groan. 

….

You shouldn’t.

It's wrong. You already peeped once, and that’s enough. 

But god, curiosity is killing you right now. It was eating away at your brain like termites and you couldn’t seem to let the question go. 

So you made a promise. One look. One final quick last look and that would be it. 

Oh how curiosity killed the cat. 

The moment your eye was aligned with the hole, your mind went blank and in front of you was a sight ever to behold.

There on white bed sheets was Gojo, shirtless, sweatpants slightly lowered furiously fisting his dick. For a couple seconds, you couldn't seem to take your eyes off of him; how beautiful he looked with his head thrown back, the glide of his hand up and down his long dick and how the top of his fist captured his redish pink tip with every thrust. 

Once the initial shock was over you immediately pulled away, hand covering your mouth to silence your gasp. You should've never looked, never crossed the threshold between curiosity and invasion of privacy. But as you move away to go back to sleep and forget all about this, you wince.

Oh no.

An all too familiar ache has started to form between your thighs and you felt your stomach twist into knots and form into a million butterflies. Frantically, you pull down your short, silently cursing when your eyes are met with a small damp stain at the base of your underwear. 

This couldn't be happening. Quickly you crawled back under your covers and turned off the lights, praying that the feeling would go away. Surprise surprise, it didnt. 

Biting your lip, you grabbed a pillow and placed it between your legs, squeezing your thighs together. A couple seconds later without realizing it you had started to slowly roll your hips on the soft object, desperately seeking some way to alleviate your pain. 

But it seemed like that only made things worse. 

Your skin was buzzing, and your breaths had turned deep and heavy. The slick accumulating in your cunt has started to become borderline uncomfortable and the twisting in your stomach didnt seem to cease. You needed release. 

One more look. One more look than one orgasm and thats it. 

Frantically you crawled back to the small hole, letting out a soft whimper when you're met with the sight again. This time his eyes were squeezed shut, and white substance filled the space between his fingers as he hurriedly fisted himself. Without even thinking, you slipped a hand under your underwear and letting out a sigh of relief when your index finger came in contact with your clit. 

Quick, you'd make this quick.

Using your wetness, you began to circle your finger around the nerve, falling into a slow rythm. You tried your best to cover the wet clicking sounds coming from your ministrations, but after a couple minutes you couldnt see to care any more. You let your mind drift to thoughts of Satoru. How would he look above you, sweaty and in euphoria? Oh you bet his dick would feel so good inside of you, fill you up and hit all the right places. Fuck it you'd probably let him cum in you, spill his seed in your cunt and fill you up over and over again.

Your movements had become frantic now as you desperately chased your orgasm and from what you could tell it seemed like he was getting close too. You had to cover your mouth with your hand to suppress the moans and your thighs started to tremble as you got closer to finishing. Suddenly, your stomach dipped and tightened as a surge of mind numbing pleasure took over you, your eyes rolling to the back of your head and mouth falling agape. 

After a couple seconds passed, you were left panting and you dazedly glanced back through the hole to find that Satrou had also finished; white streams of cum painting his toned stomach and fist. 

You blink back the euphoria that slowly escaped your brain.

Ok. Never again. 

~

That was a lie. 

You started to pick up the fact that Gojo had a routine. He’d jack off once in the morning and once at night, and boy, where the sounds impossible to ignore. So, you started to fall into this routine with Gojo. On cue, when you heard his shaky breath and silent whimpers, your hand would automatically slip into your pants, circling around your wetness to the sound of his shaky sighs. On the days you slept through the ones in the morning and missed it as night as well, you’d touch yourself on your own time, cumming over and over again to the thought of Gojo pumping his thick cock in and out of you. 

You didn't know what the end goal was to this and hell you knew it was wrong. But the pleasure was too overwhelming, the sound of Gojo was too overwhelming, too damn compelling.

So here you were again, another night laying next to the peep hole, hand down your pants intently listening to the fast pap pap pap that came from the other side of the way. 

But something was different tonight. Your skin felt like it was on fire. Your walls pulsed and squeezed around nothing with every light rub for your clit. This was becoming dangerous, the pleasure was becoming too much, the thought of gojo fucking you was becoming too much. 

You let out a whine that comes out louder than expected but you can't seem to care. You dig your ass into the mattress and arch your back slightly. You're not thinking of your fingers as your own right no, no, they are Gojo’s long pale ones rubbing fast circles on your throbbing clit. His name falls from your mouth like a silent plea over and over, begging him to fuck you. You're so engrossed in the pleasure that it took you 20 seconds to fully realize that the sounds on the other side of the wall had stopped. Confused, you align your eye with the peep hole and a gasp rips out of your throat.

Instead of finding Gojo’s body layed out your met with the sight of another eye. A blue eye. Staring right back at you. 

You pull away from the wall and cover your mouth. Before you can even process a thought your door swings open and in steps the last person you wanted to see.

"You've been peeping on me." Gojo coos, a shit eating grin spread on his face. Hes disheveled, white hair tousled, black tank top slightly riding up and grey sweat pants riding down showing his white happy trail. But most notable was his hard dick pressing against the fabric of his pants, a slight stain adorning the material right where the tip is. 

"You've been peeping on me!!!" You stammer, pulling your knees up to your chest.

“Oh really? Is that the best defense you’ve got?” Gojo chuckles and rakes a hand through his white hair, taking a few steps closer to your bed.

“What are you doing? Get out!”

“Oh? Is that what you really want? You want me to leave?” Gojo is at the foot of your bed now, and your breathing becomes faster when he climbs on. “Because I can leave. I can leave and tell everyone what a little whore you’ve been, listening to me morning and night.”

“You-” You can't even finish your sentence because he's on top of you now, legs on either side of your body and you gaze up helplessly at him.

“Of course I noticed princess,why do you think I was doing it so much anyway?” He places his index under your face  and tilts your chin up so your lips align with his. “Loved hearing those whines…. Wanna hear more so badly” He murmurs before placing his lips onto yours. You sigh into the kiss, letting his warm tongue entangle into yours. He holds the back of your neck to deepen the kiss before peppering his lips along your jawline and your neck. A hand slips below your flimsy tank top and another pulls at the hem of your underwear. Before you know it your completely naked, your chest rising and falling and Gojos hungry eyes scan your body. 

He licks his lips.

“You gonna let me hear more?”

 You gasp when you feel a long finger slide down your slit connecting the wetness before dipping into your tight hole. Gojo leaned close to soothingly press dry lips to your temple. “Shh,” He whispered, the resulting puffs of air washing over the side of your face making you shake. “This your first time being touched like this baby?Or did you not know about this special little g-spot you’ve got right here?” 

Your toes curl when he touches a spot deep inside you that sends bolts of pleasure coursing through your brain. You don’t even notice that he’s pulling down his pants until he pulls his fingers away, a string of wetness connecting his digits with your pussy, and your eyes are met with the sight of his length.

You unconsciously buck your hips up at the sight of it, practically humping the air, and Gojo has to secure your hips down to the bed to prevent you from hurting yourself. You could hear your heart in your ears and adrenaline coursed through your veins at rocket fire speed. The need in between your legs was too much, it was clouding your head and twisting your stomach so tight you almost felt sick. You jolt when his fat tip bumps into your clit; collecting your juices before pressing against your quivering hole.

"Shhhh, we are going to have so much fun together baby.”

You're cut off by the feeling of his length spreading you so helplessly wide and his tip smashing against something which must be your cervix you think. It’s painful, but in the pain is so much pleasure. He presses his forehead against yours as he slides into you, gripping the sheets with his supporting hand as your hot, wet entrance swallows his cock. Instinctively, your cunt squeezed around the foreign intrusion, trying to push it out, making Gojo let oout a low groan of his own and pushing even deeper into you. 

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he said hoarsely.

“Satoru please-”

You dont get to finish the thought because Gojo pulls out and ram back into you with such fever everything goes blank for a second. His thrusts started out shallow and slow, testing the waters for how much he could get away with. What your limits were, and if you could fully take him for what he wanted. But that quickly changed to harsher thrusts, until he’s using you like his personal cock sleeve, shaping your insides and bruising your cervix until your entire body jolts with sensitivity.

Every thrust knocks the wind out of you, his tip smushing right against your cervix only to be pulled out and rammed back in again. And the sounds, god the sounds where sinful. Wet skin against skin echoed through the room the sloshing of cum 

 It was too much, the feeling of your wet gummy walls gripping him so tightly, fuck, his hand felt like sand paper compared to this, how was he able to fucking live without your pussy in the first place.  There was no way Gojo could stop now. His body had kicked into auto pilot, a primal need for you settled in as he thrusted in and out, creating a methodical fast rhythm that echoed in your ears. The sight of you right now, the feeling of your pussy clamped on his dick did not justice to the image his fucked his fist to. No, this was better, this was heaven.

“So good- don’t stop, please don’t stop!” your babbling strung out of your lips too absorbed in the thought of how god damn good he was fucking you, his thick cock driving in and out of your velvet walls. It was as if you were made for each other, your cunt sucking him in with each push and shove that hit at just the right spots.

“Say my name baby” he coos and an involuntary cry escapes your lips, a passionate fusion of pleasure and intensity. Amid the overwhelming waves of ecstasy that washed over you,  your mouth began to call out your boyfriend's name. Again and again.

“Beautiful girl, such a natural submissive” he whispered hoarsely. Your stomach coiled with anticipation, heat encircling your core like a tightening cord. Your senses tingled, your mind a haze of desire, all consuming thoughts centered around Gojos electrifying touch. You pressed back into him, arching off a second later and then your hips rocked down. Words became superfluous, you couldn't say anything, not with the way you were panting and twitching, so insanely close to your peak that you wouldn’t ruin it with your words.

“Do it,” Gojo said into your ear with conviction. “Wanna see you cum all over me, fu-fuck, been waiting for that.” 

His words seem to flip a switch in you. The heat on your stomach is unbearable, you can’t take it anymore, it’s consuming you, driving you over the edge so fast that you can’t put a stop on it. Your pussy tightens so hard around Gojos dick that he nearly has to stop his thrusts, your scream is muffled by a hand clamped over your mouth as you feel yourself splitting in two, coming with his cock buried deep inside you. Gojo doesnt stop, He fucks you hard into the futon; your eyes roll back, toes curling as waves of pleasure crash over you, your entire body trembles over his thrusts.

"Oh shit!" He gasps as your cunt clamps around him. He growls something unintelligible as his thrusts become erratic and sloppy. “"Gonna cum in you, gonna fill you up it's what you were made for- ah, fu-uck- cumming!" Gojo pressing him flush against you choking over his words as his hips sputter inside of you, hot cum fills you as much as you can hold inside of your stuffed cunny.

“Wa-wait! N-not ins-si-” You squeal but cut your self off when you feel something deliciously warm enter your battered pussy. You babbled and squirmed as it built and built and built, like there was a dam of his seed spurting into you. You unintentionally, probably instinctually, squeezed around him, drawing more out and he whined and murmured his praise. “Good girl, get as much as you can.” He petted circles over your stomach, over the bulge of where his cock and cum lay. “Such a pretty tummy….” You threw your face into your arms and shook.

The two of you stayed like that for a while–Gojo keeping you plugged with his cock while you both watched your breaths, listening to eachother and occasionally leaning in for a messy kiss.

“So, I guess we are both peeping toms then.”

A/N: Im too lazy to write an ending

[kuiinncedes]

casually spent like almost 6 hours total at glowstick club practice XD

[bych3nle]

NCT SMAU REC

MARK LEE :

Cryptic crush @jji-lee

Fuckboy mark x fem reader

are you looking for something deeper than just superficial romance? of course you are! sm university presents : cryptic crush the only on campus app that is 100% anonymous. sign up now and we'll randomly pair you with someone ready to chat! who knows? they might be the one...

I WANNA FUCK MARK LEE @luvyeni

Idol mark x YouTuber reader

in which a clip of you goes viral in ncity twt and it gains the attention of mark lee ( the center of the tweet ) — and all he can think is 'why saying chenles' cute friend saying she wants to fuck him?'

Personal fav

WHEN YOU SMILE @svnnw

Mark x fem reader

Fake dating au

after barely passing your recent exam you're now desperately looking for someone to tutor you so your friends wouldn't worry about you and your grades.

or in which you find yourself making a deal with mark lee, a top students who seeks for your help. mutual benefit right?

DOWN BAD @hyuckswoman

musicmajor!mark x fem!reader

in which a random business major finds herself joining a random music class not knowing the guy she had been fawning over attended it aswell.

Maybe after all her efforts he’ll finally notice her? After all this was the IT guy mark lee, what else could she have done but fall in love with him?

I GOT MY ION YOU @chenlesfavorite

Tutor mark x fem reader

you’ve failed yet another chemistry exam, high chances are you’re gonna have to retake the entire class next year and miss out on almost all school breaks due to studying and fixing your bad grades, and that is until your trusty friend suggests a tutor to you.

LOST IN TRANSLATION @spiderm444rk

business major! mark x fem journalism major! reader

you, as the promising journalism student of NCUT, were more than willing to join the school magazine when you got offered. to your disappointment, the only section they let you have is the anonymous confessions one - which is mostly really, really boring. i mean, who even posts any cool confessions nowadays ? especially in a damn college magazine? they only offered you the job no one else wanted.

on the other hand, mark, a business student, was never more annoyed with the choice of his major. sure, business is cool and hopefully it'll earn him money, but it's not something he could really get into. he always wanted to do music. but after long considering, he chose business instead, to make sure he gets a real job in the future. and he doubts that choice was correct more and more every day.

once the school band announces they're looking for a new guitarist, he's absolutely ready to apply until he reads the music students only part. pissed off, he starts typing a message to the ge, but it ends up going to a different number - and you finally get to help some poor random stranger who confessed with something interesting.

DREAM BOYFRIEND INCOMING @wonbin-truther

College student mark x fem reader

it wasnt your fault mark was the first profile to appear on your instagram! and it was most definitely not your fault when you told your annoying older cousins that mark lee, the captain of your unis soccer team, was your boyfriend and somehow got him invited to the next family reunion ...

DEAL OR NO DEAL ? @yutarot

Basketball player mark x Drummer reader

when you and your best friend mark realise the severity of your shared single-dom, you make a bet with each other that the first person to get in a relationship wins. what happens when the bet gets pushed a little too far? and who will be there to stop it?

OLD BLOODHOUNDS @mvrkieboo

College student mark x college student reader

You and Mark go all the way back to your childhood years, getting to know each other through your older brother. When you were both just 15 years old, you made a choice that broke your brother's heart, and you were dead to Mark Lee ever since. You never got to reconcile with him as you moved away.

Now, you meet again in your college years, and Mark is noticing there's some weird things about you. First of all, are you a sugar baby?

FRONT ROW @beomqu

Guitarist mark x college student reader

it is a habit of y/n to attend ENCT's festival every year and this year isn't any different. while enjoying the festival and waiting for her friend's favourite artist to perform they stand in front row of a band they have never seen before.

——————————————————————————

HUANG RENJUN

MUSE TO MUSE @404tytrack

Art student Renjun x fem reader

in which the art and photography departments pair up students for a collaborative project, & the art to your photography is renjun. the prompt: earth's beauty. with differing opinions on how to do the project, will you & renjun be able to work together & get a good grade?

MESSENGER @dojunie

College student Renjun x fem reader

Stranger to lover au

YOU FIND A PHONE NUMBER WRITTEN ON THE MIRROR OF THE SULIM LIBRARY'S SECOND FLOOR BATHROOM. It's scrawled messily across the glass in erasable expo marker, the handwriting underneath almost closer to hieroglyphics than lettering— and what you thought it read, was 'SEND DUCK PICS FOR A GOOD TIME.'

——————————————————————————

LEE JENO

HOT TO GO @sungiejpg

Idol jeno x aespa stylist fem reader

being aespa’s stylist is an easy and a lovely job, that’s what yn thought until she met Jeno by mistake. She now finds him scary

TWIN FLAME @justalildumpling

College student Jeno x fem reader

Stranger to lover au

chenle was convinced that his two introverted friends were destined for each other so what does he do? bribe them to text each other of course ⎯ or alternatively, when jeno started to fall for an anonymous mutual friend of chenle's

Personal fav

FIDING CINDERELLA @justalildumpling

Jeno x fem reader

it wasn’t often jeno showed emotions of love and affection, let alone kissing a stranger at a party that he doesn’t even remember?! determined to find his nameless cinderella, he began searching the campus far and wide but as hidden secrets started surfacing, he started to wonder whether the midnight spark was meant to be pursued after all.

——————————————————————————

LEE HAECHAN

AT MIDNIGHT @svnnw

Non idol Haechan x fem reader

after y/n's boyfriend broke up with her, all her friends tried to distract her by sneaking into a college party not knowing she was going to find new friendships and possibly a new relationship.

Personal fav

SHE’S THE MAN @yutarot

Gamer Haechan x gamer fem reader

after you discover your love for gaming, you soon find out that your college won’t let you in any of their e-sports teams due to your gender. but what happens when your twin brother leaves town just before he’s about to start at a new college, where not even NCU’s e-sports captain, lee haechan knows anything about him? there’s only one problem, your brother’s crazy ex is trying to hunt you down. will they all find out your true identity? and will their views on you change if they discover who you really are?

BLOOMING HEARTS @jji-lee

Flower shop owner Haechan x fem reader

Enemies to lover au

a new flower shop has opened up in front of your dorm housing and has been creating problem after problem for you. now you and shop owner, lee haechan have an ongoing feud that neither of you are willing to put to rest. as the weather cools and the flowers wither away maybe something else will begin to bloom between you two…

or alternatively, your battle against a ridiculously attractive flower shop owner (spoiler you lose)

ONE NIGHT ONLY @mrkified

College student Haechan x fem reader

three years since your falling out with lee donghyuck he has suddenly transfered to your college in hopes to make it big with his friends in his band. unfortunately for you, your unresolved friendship started causing problems between you and the people around you, especially since your best friend is his ex. so — why have you found yourself in his room with a raging hangover?

DIVINE TIMING @v1si0n

College student Haechan x fem reader

you confessed to your longtime crush, donghyuck, back in high school because you figured you guys would never see each other again. you begin to question your faith in the universe when you run into him on a rainy tuesday night, and you start seeing him every day after.

BAD IDEA RIGHT? @i-kai

Idol Haechan x idol fem reader

dating lee donghyuck was every hopeless romantic’s dream. his late night serenades, affectionate touches, secret song dedications, and endless love letters were just some of the things that you — the hopeless romantic that got to live said dream — were on the receiving end of. everything seemed perfect, right?

until you received the worst message ever in your life two weeks before you made your debut. the four words, “we need to talk” made your heart drop from what felt like a skyscraper filled with all the sanity you had left.

after that, you’d never give your ex a chance ever.. again.. right..?

DEAR MR. CUPID @justalildumpling

Childhood bsf hyuck x childhood bsf fem reader

it’s no lie that haechan only started his college matchmaking business due to his nosy personality. it’s also no lie that he was a little jealous of everyone he had helped out as he had no love life of his own. well, that was until his childhood friend moved back and mysterious love notes started appearing in his matchmaking inbox… addressed to HIM?!

ALWAYS FOREVER @jaeyunluvbot

Streamer hyuck x streamer fem reader

y/n and haechan are both well-known streamers with overlapping fandoms, what happens when they're paired up for a fortnite tournament?

THE DREAM STORE @jammingjaem

Idol Haechan x producer fem reader

rising up in the music industry as a young songwriter and producer, you wouldn’t think that you’d get hired by sm entertainment and write a song for your favorite group. although there was one downfall: you don’t think making music makes you happy anymore. but the endearing and charismatic lee haechan has swept you off of your feet. and here you’re asking yourself— what are you waiting for in life?

GG (GOOD GAME) @sunflowerhae

Fanboy Haechan x YouTuber/streamer fem reader

Famous YouTuber and Streamer y/n just moved in next door to scholastic loser haechan! No sweat for him! No big deal! Not like he has her picture above his computer! Not like he owns her merch that he stayed up all night to get! Not like he cried when she started playing his favorite video game! Not like he’s completely and utterly obsessed with her and all his friends know it!

FEIN @anglswon

Ex bf Haechan x fem reader

In which you finally find a new plug to feed your addiction but he’s annoyingly attractive.. and your ex.

WHO ARE U ? @sungiejpg

College student Haechan x fem reader

when renjun asked her to create a fake twitter acc to take revenge on haechan she did not expect to fall in love

I LOVE YOU I’M SORRY @hhie

Idol Haechan x dancer reader

2 years ago , you and your best friend fell in love with one another. Only for him to leave you and cut you off with no explanation. What if , 2 years later, you decided to take a big step into your career, thinking that it is the best decision you’ve made in your life.

Unaware of what’s going to happen … you should be fine right?

——————————————————————————

NA JAEMIN

DON’T BLAME THE LOVECATS @yojeongin

Neighbor Jaemin x neighbor reader

jaemin and yn have never had a good relationship due to their troublesome cats but it only gets worse when both felines cause chaos and wreck property forcing these enemies to spend day and night together to avoid eviction and charges for the troubles, not expecting this experience to lead them towards unexpected information and interesting feelings.

WHY ME ? @sungiejpg

Enemies to lover au

he is known as the nicest guy on the faculty who gets along with everyone, well…maybe not everyone

Personal fav

LOVE ON THE COURT @polarisjisung

Basketball player Jaemin x basketball player reader

Enemies to lover au

every college student has their struggles, but raising her younger brother has Y/N top of the list, struggling her way through college whilst balancing her academics and basketball captaincy is difficult no doubt and with Jaemin, her ex best friend and captain of the guys basketball team, and his growing one sided hatred towards her, it doesn't seem to be getting any easier

SURF’S UP @mrkified

Coworker Jaemin x fem reader

Jaemin’s crush on you wasn’t a secret — everyone seemed to know except you, who always thought of him as your nice coworker from the morning shift. As summer was about to start again, Jaemin was ready to change his relationship with you. But how could he, when you had a crush on another coworker — Sungho. Everything seemed to change when you offered Jaemin swimming lessons, giving him a chance to get closer to you.

THAT’S THAT ME ESPRESSO @sourrpatched

Coworker Jaemin x fem reader

Overworked at her understaffed job Y/N finds it hard to enjoy this summer vacation even with the school semester having ended. It doesn’t help that it seems nobody is interested in working at a little coffee shop even if it’s just for the summer. That is until fate brings Jaemin into the picture who happens to be desperate for a job and love. Let’s just hope this time around he can actually keep it.

or, the one where jaemin needs a damn job and Y/N needs a damn break.

SEX FASHION GUITAR @luvyeni

rockstar jaemin x stylist reader

l/n y/n fashion major and photographer on the side who says what she wants, na jaemin music major and lead guitar player for underground band DREAM. After yn forgets her to change her account and says something that catches the eye of jaemin she tries to ignore him — expect thanks to chenle she now works for them.

YOU CAN'T HAVE ME... UNLESS? @justalildumpling

College student Jaemin x fem reader

after getting ghosted by your crush in high school, you swore off dating at university, earning yourself the title of ‘the unattainable’. after 3 years you were convinced that there would be no way the two of you would ever cross paths ever again. well, that was until he announced that he was your boyfriend at a party.

——————————————————————————

ZHONG CHENLE

NIGHT RIDER @chenlesfavorite

motorcyclist chenle x fem reader

working night shifts 24/7 at the convenience store while also supporting your boyfriend’s obsession with watching motorcyclists race is not easy, but little did you know that one of the bikers that he loves soon gets involved with you.

FOLLOW ME NOT @lowkeychenle

idol chenle x fem reader

After Chenle "accidentally" hits the follow button on Twitter, you try to get him to unfollow you by any means necessary, even if he's keen on staying right where he's at.

ICED LOVE LETTER @jammingjaem

college student chenle x ice skater fem reader

at ncit, figure skater y/n receives daily letters signed ‘zcl’ from a secret admirer. as she gears up for a crucial showcase, the mystery of ‘zcl’ fuels her determination throughout the semester, leading to an unfolding journey of curiosity and motivation.

WE YOUNG @a3r3n

childhood friend chenle x fem reader

A sudden change happens in y/n's life when her father kicks her and her mother out after their divorce, and they're forced to leave China to go back to South Korea. Luckily her mother's best friend lives there with her son Chenle, one of y/n's childhood friends, and they're willing to host them until they find a better place to stay. But now that y/n and Chenle have both grown up, will their friendship be the same as when they were children?

SERÁ UNA NOCHE INOLVIDABLE @galacticseonghwa

biker chenle x fem reader

your friends were all you needed, they were your brothers from another mother they loved to say. but that all went to shit after ricky dragged you to one of his motorbike sprints.

who are you to say no when ricky's opponent claws his way into your inner circle and present himself as your dream man?

——————————————————————————

PARK JISUNG

LIE WITH YOU @strrykais

art student jisung x astrology student fem reader

you were nervous, and that was an understatement. you actually couldn't believe that you were able to transfer into your dream school, leaving behind your family, your home, and your loving boyfriend. when you meet your upstairs neighbors, things start to change for the better - or worse. you tried everything to keep your distance from the boy that showed her the stars in the sky have nothing to the ones in his eyes. he knows it won't last, and you know it too. personal fav

SCORE THAT GOAL @lqfiles

football player jisung x fem reader

after your college had announced that all the students were required to join a club and attend it twice a week, you were planning on either a) dropping out, or b) join the art club and pretend to be sick most of the times. that was before you discovered that park jisung is a long time member of the football team. change in plans: you LOVE football.

or in which you mindlessly join the football club in hopes of catching your crush’s attention (and to maybe secretly check him out too) who cares if you can’t even kick a ball up in the air?

GAME ON ! @hyuckswoman

astronomy major jisung x astronomy major fem reader

a story in which y/n finds herself meeting her roblox bestie in real life. turns out he’s not exactly everything she hoped for… who would’ve thought her nemesis park jisung would be user plumblossomer

DRUM ME STUPID ! @jirsungs

drummer jisung x fem reader

a story about a college student enjoying her life in school perfectly fine, until one of her friends drags the group along to watch their school's band perform. little did she know that day would be marked as the day her whole world turned upside down because of a particular, nonchalant, and difficult drummer boy. a drummer boy who spilled his entire drink on her brand new outfit at a party and never came back.

LINGER @beomgewz

college student jisung x fem reader

despite all of your efforts, you still cannot get over your 5 year crush on the shy boy from high school. to top everything off, he has a long term girlfriend of 3 years!

THE BOTLER @lowkeychenle

Your friends call you "the bolter," because every time someone gets close, you run in the opposite direction.

When you meet Jisung, things are working behind the scenes--things you can't see and don't acknowledge.

Can you overcome your metaphorical running in time for Jisung to secure your heart?

RAINBOW @a3r3n

park jisung x fem reader

Y/N has just moved to Seoul from her home country and finds herself now alone with her parents, but no friends. Fortunately, her neighbor Chenle is a guy her age, nice and fun to be with, and they eventually become friends, even attending the same International Class for Transfer Students at Nct High. But what will happen when y/n meets Chenle's friends, and one of them catches her eye? And what if things don't go as planned?

——————————————————————————

[frnchgirls]

patrick meeting you at your first frat party, plopping down next to you on the couch and talking to you as if you've known each other forever even though you were completely unaware of his existence just half an hour ago. you were 100% expecting the party to be a terrible idea. you've heard horror stories of spiked drinks and persistent assholes in tau kappa epsilon but patrick has you pleasantly surprised.

meanwhile, he's so fuckin' excited cause a new girl hasn't been by the house in ages. any time another guy from the frat tries to talk to you, his arm over the back of the couch curls in around you as he barks out a half-serious "this one's mine. she's not interested, sorry buddy." and the possessive punctuation of his words has your heart racing.

after a few too many beer cans have been emptied into mouths and discarded in trash bins, a few boys begin drunkenly wrestling on the sticky floor. patrick's quick to crack jokes like "who do you think is gonna win? my bet is on the one in the backwards cap. i heard he puts steroids in his michelob ultra." and you giggle as your fingers dig into his soft white tee and he thinks it might be getting him hard. he pulls your face into the crook of his neck to "shield your eyes from this barbaric stupidity," cause you're "too pretty to be watching it."

the reality is, he's just using that as an excuse to keep his hands on you.

the wrestling gets a little too close to the couch and he pulls your legs up into his lap, so the guys don't bump into you. you're pretty buzzed and it's late and you tell him you need to get back to your dorm cause you have classes in the morning. pat doesn't have a car, so the best thing he can offer is to walk you there. it's only a block or two away, after all. you take him up on it and you can't help but stumble down the sidewalk in your heels and lean on him for support, blubbering "i'm sorry, thank you for being so nice to me... unh i'm so drunk, 'm so sorry." over and over again.

patrick thinks it's the cutest thing he's ever heard, brushing it off with a laugh and telling you that you have nothing to apologize for. his grip on your waist tightens to make sure you don't fall. at least, that's what he tells himself.

he finally gets you to your room safe and spends the walk back imagining how he's gonna beat his dick raw to the thought of you.

he could've had you tonight, if only he wasn't such a gentleman.

[yanderambling]

omg i’m thrilled that y’all like him so much!!! and these ideas were soso tasty ugh your minds~ i had a lot of fun with this, maybe too much if you look at the wc lol, so i hope y’all enjoy <3 ALSO continuity note: since Adrian is so popular, i won't carry major events through different stories unless requested, that way everyone can have their own version of his story! but i'll be keeping general facts about Adrian the same unless otherwise specified, like his parents being rich because i find it funny~ thank you and goodnight <3 (and yes i switched this gif with the last part shhhh it’s okay)

pairing: Masochist Puppyboy!Yandere(m) x Bully!Reader(gn)

words: ~ 4.6k

you can read the previous part here!

CW: 18+, NSFW, yandere behavior, stalking, bullying, physical/verbal abuse, BDSM themes, poor BDSM etiquette but neither party minds

Adrian nearly choked when he heard his name read next to yours for the school project.

It took you a second to recognize his; you mostly just call him mutt. Once you realized, you loudly groaned at the prospect of spending the week with that pest.

Adrian couldn’t hear it over his racing heart.

As soon as class lets out, he's right at your side, yammering on about project materials and meeting arrangements and times and "we should really meet at one of our houses so we don't have to worry about distractions, I'm fine with coming to yours! It's closer to school anyway, right? It'll be more private- I just think it makes sense-"

You finally shut him up by making the executive decision that you’ll work at his house (you don’t need him shedding on your furniture, or potentially getting any personal ammunition against you; he is way too interested in being inside your home, and how does he know it’s closer to school?).

Adrian was crestfallen that he wouldn’t get to go in your house (and smell the pure you imbued in your furniture, and pretend he’s really your dog while you sit together- maybe in your bedroom!-, and snoop through your underwear drawer when you go to the bathroom, and snoop through your bathroom when he goes in right after you...), but he was still over the moon at the idea of having you in his space.

(He’ll just visit your window later tonight like usual, anyway- he'll still get high off that closeness alone. Win/win!)

Adrian doesn't think about anything else for the rest of the day, zoning through his classes and plastered to your side whenever he gets the chance, just alight with energy and anticipation and not shutting up about it- he's lucky there's too many witnesses for you to knock him quiet (oh, but he would feel so much luckier if you did).

You would totally bail on this project if you weren’t already failing this class, which is mostly on account of you bailing. You’re wondering if all those cut classes were worth having to work with this, but you’re not feeling hopeful.

The day seems to drag on forever for both of you, for vastly different reasons. By the time school lets out, Adrian is buzzing out of his skin and you're seconds away from ripping it off him.

As you two start the trek to his place, Adrian can't get over how surreal it feels to walk beside you. It's like you two are a couple, and you're walking him home for an after school study date!

He gets lost in the daydream easily, giving you a brief reprieve from his energy, and allowing you to absently notice his rapidly wagging tail almost propelling him down the sidewalk. You can't help but smirk a little at the image that conjures in your mind.

He's truly ridiculous, you can't really believe him sometimes. Doesn't that thing ever get tired? What does he think is gonna happen that's got him so damn excited? That he's gonna get in good with you somehow (hopefully) and you'll leave him alone? (never in his wildest dreams.)

Yeah, fat chance.

When Adrian stops at his house, you think he's joking. But then he walks right up the driveway of this random McMansion, motioning you along eagerly, and enters a security code before holding the door open for you with a clearly anticipatory smile.

...The fuck.

You did not count on Adrian’s family being loaded. He certainly doesn't dress or groom like it.

You consider berating him for not mentioning it, but decide against it for the risk of seeming stupid- to Adrian of all people. You do make a mental note for your future errand requests, though.

Adrian’s parents aren’t home, he tells you his mom is always traveling and his dad basically lives at his office. You’re relieved that you won’t have to put on a nice face for the folks, but there’s apparently still a live-in housekeeper that floats around (are you fucking kidding?) so you stay diligent.

Adrian suggests you two work in his room; you figure the further from watchful eyes, the better.

Despite it being his idea, Adrian can't help his giddy nervousness as you enter his room (he’d texted the housekeeper to make sure it was clean as soon as you decided to come over, lucky he keeps his souvenirs hidden away whenever he’s not admiring them).

The room is frankly ridiculous, easily twice the size of yours, a king bed in the corner, a desk and coffee table and two dressers, and yet adorned with piles of clothes and clutter and more genres of nerdy shit than you even knew existed.

"Yeah, okay, parts of this make sense."

Adrian cocks his head, opening his mouth to ask what you mean, when he suddenly chokes on air.

You've made a bee-line right to his desk, covered in books and papers for hobbies and school alike, but also holding a locked drawer at the very bottom in which he keeps his "school collection" (just discarded pencils with bitten erasers, torn up notebook paper he can still smell your hands on, old gym shorts you were probably gonna replace soon anyway, a bandaid here, a plastic fork there; nothing crazy).

He watches with bated breath as you sift through the contents of his desk, occasionally scoffing or chuckling at what you find. He lets out a sigh when you seem to grow bored, just for you to move on to his dresser and have his stomach doing somersaults all over again.

Maybe he should've asked the housekeeper to hide his stuff better and just braved the questions later...

You move throughout the room like you own it (you do, as far as the both of you are concerned), making little jabs at his various posters and figurines which make his whole body flush hot with pleasure because you're noticing things about him, but every other move you make sends his heart jumping into his throat in a completely different way.

It only takes a minute or two for the stress to get to him.

“Ah- hey! Uh, maybe we should- maybe we should start on the project, right?”

You bark a laugh and spin on your heel to face him, an incredulous half-grin pulling your lips and revealing a gut-twisting flash of teeth.

"We?"

Oh, yeah, he much prefers those intense eyes boring into him.

He starts spluttering placations immediately. "No! Well, uhm, I didn't mean- you, you don't- have to- obviously, I mean, I don't- I wouldn't-"

You roll your eyes and shove past him, effectively cutting him off as you flop down onto his abominably soft mattress. "Right, yeah, whatever. Let's get one thing straight here, okay?"

Adrian nods, his whole being drawn to focus at your entrancingly commanding tone. Although, it's incredibly hard to focus on anything with the sight of you on his bed right in front of him; he's already planning how to avoid that area so it'll retain your scent longer, he wonders if he could cut that part of the duvet out and keep it in an airtight container, maybe the sheets under it too just to be safe...

"This is not a "we" situation, got it? I'm not lifting a damn finger for this bullshit, that's what you're there for." Adrian has a purpose to you! "I am only here to make sure you're actually doing it, which shouldn't be a problem because if we get anything less than an A, it's gonna be your ass."

As tempting as it is to see what punishment you would inflict upon him, Adrian really really really wants to please you- and he's pretty good at this subject anyway!

You then cross your arms and lean back just enough to look down your nose at him. "Got it?"

Adrian can't answer fast enough.

"Yes! Yes, that's perfect! Awesome, good- great!"

But then he doesn’t make a move. Ha.

He looks a little lost, standing in the middle of his own room, barely biting down a grin and wringing his hands as he seems to wait for another command.

Apparently, you’ve trained him well.

You scoff and let yourself fall onto your back as you pull out your phone (Adrian's gonna need a bigger airtight container).

"Well, go on then, we don't have all day."

Adrian scrambles to get to work. He quickly positions himself on the floor by the foot of the bed and pulls the coffee table closer, emptying his school bag carelessly onto the carpet.

You huff a laugh at the sight, all this money and the kid's parents couldn't buy him any class. Maybe sloppiness is an inherent trait, like his apparent passion for service- nobody with this much money should be such a pushover. And yet...

Adrian couldn’t be happier, sitting on the floor while you lounge across his bed and periodically weigh in with (mostly incorrect) corrections or snide remarks, an almost alarmingly wide grin settled on his face as his tail taps a steady rhythm against his carpet.

It’s not an unpleasant picture, you muse absently as you look up from your phone, it’s almost comforting to have your little puppy on the floor, cheerily working away for you while you laze about. It certainly beats doing the work yourself, or having to threaten a student with an actual spine to do it for you.

Still, it doesn't take long for you to get bored. Bored enough to notice your empty stomach, at least.

"I'm hungry."

Adrian's head shoots up from the book he was hunched over, ears raised at attention and eyes glittering with something you're not sure you care to identify.

He's on his feet in the next second, knocking his knees on the way up loud enough to startle you yet showing no signs of even noticing.

"I-I'll ask Len to make something!"

He darts out of the room before you can tell him what you want, but you trust he knows your moods and tastes well enough by this point to predict. (Oh, he does, and Len's not going to be making anything- they don't know all the special ingredients!)

The second he leaves, you decide to really cure your boredom by snooping around in earnest. Certainly this creep has something actually weird hidden in here, you just have to look in the right places.

You waste no time in sifting through his bookshelf (nerd shit), closet (nerd clothes, some dirty), a dresser (nerd clothes, mostly clean), under his bed (dirty clothes, nerd shit in boxes)- the door opens behind you.

“Wha-? Oh! Ah- Wh-what- what are you doing?”

You don’t even bother moving from your crouch, most of your upper body shoved under the bedstand while the rest of you... is not.

Adrian’s mouth is completely dry for several reasons.

“What’re you, blind? I’m snooping.”

Adrian slowly comes further into the room, hesitantly setting the serving tray on the low table. He can’t stop his voice from cracking as he stutters out,

“Uh- yeah, okay, yeah, but- um, would you maybe mind- um, not?”

You snicker, at least he has some manners. “Yeah, I do mind, actually. What’s the matter, mutt? Got something to hide?”

“N-no!”

The answer is so immediate, so fervent, that it has you pulling up just to give him an unimpressed look. He stares back at you, eyes wide and frenzied.

“Jesus you’re a bad liar.”

Looking at him now, you can see sweat glistening on his face and his hands clenching by his side. His eyes dart toward the dresser you haven't checked yet.

Bingo.

You jump up from your position and stride across the room with purpose. You only make it a few steps before Adrian seems to materialize in front of you, making you stop short and almost yelp from shock.

“S-sorry! I’m sorry, I just-" he's waving his hands wildly, head ducked as his gaze rapidly flicks between your face and the floor, "You-you can’t- please, please don’t-”

“Okay, creep, I get the gist.”

You shove past him, and he wishes he could relish the firm pressure of your hands on him.

He whirls around and watches in horror as you approach the dresser. He needs to do something, he needs to stop you, but what can he do? You’ve clearly made up your mind, it’s not like it's his place to try and change it...

All he can do is watch, a high ringing in his ears and his body filling with static, while you meticulously sift through every drawer until his clothes are strewn about the floor and you're panting with frustration.

He's about to let himself take a breath when you suddenly squat down and stick your arm into the shallow space underneath. He nearly swallows his tongue when you let out a disbelieving huff and awkwardly slide out a long lockbox.

You look up at him triumphantly, eyes sparkling with glee, and he almost mirrors your smile just for how captivating it is.

"Open it."

"N-no-"

You lean up toward him and cock your head, he has to stop himself from being drawn in by the magnetism of your narrowed eyes. “The fuck did you just say to me?"

"I'm sorry! I didn't- just, I can't-"

"Oh, I think you can. Or you're not gonna like what happens next."

That's where you're wrong, and it only really strengthens Adrian's extremely shaky resolve. He tries to keep the grin off his face as he habitually starts to picture the punishment you might give him; a cuff on the ears, a knee to the stomach, a punch in the face-

But you just roll your eyes and groan, no longer in the mood now that something more interesting has presented itself.

Instead, your gaze floats down to the flimsy looking combination lock on the box, then it fixes on some heavy-standed figurine you'd knocked off his bookshelf earlier.

Yeah, good enough.

Adrian barely has time to flinch before you're snatching it up and breaking the lock with a sound crack.

Then you're lifting the lid.

"No!"

He starts to lunge forward, but your sharply raised hand halts him dead in his tracks.

Fuck.

It's too late anyway, judging by your wide eyes and slightly slack jaw (god how he wishes he could focus on the glorious curve of your open lips, or the way your perfect teeth peek over them, or how it might feel to have those teeth sunk into his skin-)

"What. The. Fuck."

"I-I can explain- It's not-!"

"I literally do not believe that you can."

Adrian's throat goes dry, he feels tears welling in his eyes. "I'm sorry- I'm sorry! I never meant- it's not like-"

You tune Adrian out as you focus on the stacks and stacks of photos arranged in the box before you. There even seem to be books underneath those, thick ones despite the shallowness of the container. You’d say there’s easily hundreds of pictures in here.

But, more concerning than the amount of photos… is their content.

They’re all you.

Undeniable, from every angle and range and setting you could imagine, it’s all you. There’s you at your spot with your friends, sitting in class, in the cafeteria, running errands in town, sneaking off to that private spot nobody else is supposed to know about, asleep in your bed- in dozens and dozens of iterations, like you could probably make a flip book of every scene.

It’s offensively redundant, honestly, a gross waste of paper. Maybe equally as concerning.

(Adrian needs to keep physical copies, and hard drives, and backup hard drives, and another box further under the dresser... What if something happens to his phone? What if he lost all his treasured photos forever? He doesn’t know what he’d do.)

"You're a bigger creep than I gave you credit for." You murmur, mostly to yourself.

Adrian never thought he'd feel anything but sheer joy from hearing that word leave your mouth. "N-no! It's not- it's not like that! I'm not- I don't-"

While Adrian's still blustering and working himself into a tizzy, you're just... processing.

It's oddly unsurprising, once you consider all the other factors together. Looking at it now, of course Adrian had more perverted reasons for complying to your cruelty, what else could he have been getting out of it? You guess you kinda always knew, on some level, but you never thought it would be like this.

But, since it is, you can't help but wonder just how far this perversion has gone, how far it will go...

This night has been boring enough that you're entitled to a little fun, right?

And besides, looking at him now- all wide eyed and droopy eared, his tail pulled between his legs and clutched in his trembling hands- Adrian actually looks a little bit... cute? In a pathetic, dirty stray caught in the rain type of way, of course.

The only real difference is that you'd be much kinder to the stray.

"Alright, shut it, stalker."

Adrian's mouth snaps closed, his tail trying to tuck further at your dangerously low voice.

"Obviously, this severe-" you flap a stack of photos at him, causing him to duck his head and whimper, "-invasion of my privacy can't go unpunished."

Adrian's eyes become impossibly bigger as they flash up to watch you stand. His ears suddenly perk, his tail tugs against his grip as it tries to hesitantly wag.

Jesus, he's shameless.

This is gonna be fun.

But first, a plan. You don't want Adrian getting too bold, so what better way to keep him in his place than by tying him there? Looking around his room, you don't have much to work with, but you're resourceful; a lace from his sneakers should do just fine (who keeps shoes in their room? what a creep).

"Alright. Sit."

Adrian is falling to his knees before his brain can process the words. When it does, he isn't quick enough to bite down on the high keen that builds in his throat.

You scoff, mentally scorning yourself for ignoring his shit for so long, then go to pull a lace. Adrian watches in rapt attention as you test its strength, your hands flexing so tantalizingly as you pull the string harshly several times over.

He holds his breath on instinct when your scrutinizing glare scans the room again.

"Okay, bed. Back to the headboard. Now."

Adrian scrambles up immediately, pulling some of the sheets off in his hurry, eager to obey before you change your mind.

You follow right after, kneeling up and leaning over him to tie his hands to the headboard above him. His dry throat click as he gulps.

You're so close, your heavenly scent filling his lungs like a sweet paralyzing vapor, he can feel the heat radiating from your skin despite the clothes between you, he could probably taste you if he just stuck out his tongue...

He whines as you yank the shoelace tight with a grunt before tying it off. You tug on his hands once more, forcing the string deeper into his skin, and your hum of satisfaction is drowned out by Adrian's low groan.

What a wonderful feeling, the sharp sting of the lace grounding him down like he needs to be; he can't help twisting and pulling until the burn intensifies, imagining it's your firm hands holding him so tightly...

"Jesus, freak, you're already getting into it?"

Adrian just whimpers, barely registering the question past your condescending tone as he continues to squirm.

You suddenly grab the front of his shirt and pull him forward until he's partially hovering off the mattress, the combined pressure of your knuckles under his chin and the shoestring grating his tender wrists pulls a breathy moan along with.

You lean in close, practically growling as you say, "Don't do my job for me, mutt."

You press a relatively fresh bruise on his arm just to see him twitch and bite his lip (it’s actually from a week ago, that’s how good he is at maintaining your marks for you!). It is pretty gratifying.

Almost as gratifying as the bulge you spot between his wantonly spread legs.

A breathless laugh punches out of you. It's oddly jarring to see, and you would later deny that it's slightly impressive, but it's not an entirely unpleasant sight.

"God, you're fucking pathetic. But you know that, don't you, you little creep?"

If your words weren't enough to have Adrian shaking out of his skin, you lean closer and nip his ear; he jerks back instinctively at the pain, which only makes its sting so much sweeter when you sink your teeth in and pull back.

He doesn’t bother trying to keep himself quiet.

“This isn’t even a punishment for you, is it? Is it, you fucking perv?”

Adrian is so far beyond saving face, he’s mostly beyond communication of any kind, so he just shakes his head fervently and grunts and hopes it’s good enough.

“Use your words, mutt.”

He gasps as you yank his throbbing ear, pulling his face closer to yours- oh dear god he can feel your hot breath against his cheeks, every detail of your perfect face so confident and dangerous and ethereal, your sparkling eyes look positively deadly and Adrian is ready to submit himself to their perils-

“Answer me," your sharp words make his lashes flutter, but he keeps his eyes wide open to stare at your taunting smile hanging just inches from his face, "are you getting off on this?”

He nods, he’s starting to get dizzy with all this nodding but he doesn't feel capable of much else, then you tug his hair back with the most glorious burn-

“Ah-Yes! Yes, I love- I love it, please- give me- more- please, I need- I need-“

He cuts off with a choked sound as your fingers slide up his throat and tighten, all too happy to oblige.

"That what you want? You happy now?" You taunt, your breath against the shell of his ear raising goosebumps all over his body.

He tries to nod against your grip, causing you to smirk and push further.

Oh god yes please-

Garbled moans fight their way from his throat as his eyes roll back in ecstasy, his straddled legs pressing tightly together as he thrashes desperately against the headboard, his whole body trembling and pushing up and up in search of contact- but you keep pulling away, putting more pressure on his neck to support yourself, bringing out the most pitiful little whimpers.

"Use your words, puppy."

Puppy.

Adrian chokes for reasons entirely unrelated to your hand on his neck. His tail, which had been beating a rapid tempo since you sat him down, starts flailing into overdrive.

It takes considerably more effort, but Adrian needs to please you- maybe you’ll even reward him!- so he coughs and gasps until he can force out,

"Y-Yes,” a strained cough, “Tha-agh-thank- you-"

A smile curls your lips unbidden. Such initiative! You let your fingers stroke over his throat as your hand presses in harder.

"There, that's a good boy."

Adrian's vision whites out.

He’s not even aware of the stream of whines and moans that force their way from beneath your fingers, he doesn't notice how his body squirms against the pressure of you on top of him, he couldn't tell the frantic thumping of his tail from that of his heart- all he can focus on is the red hot ecstasy filling every inch of him to bursting, the transcendent bliss of being so thoroughly claimed, so completely controlled, so wholly owned by you.

He's still hiccupping moans and thumping his tail when you withdraw your hand for fear of suffocating him, these needy little noises escaping his already bruising throat.

His head lolls back and his mouth falls open as you remain suspended above him, taking in your handiwork.

He’s so vulnerable, his entire body open and happily exposed to you, every muscle trembling in the aftershocks. His chest heaves as sweat and tears drip down onto his shirt, but he seems to pay no mind as his vacant eyes flutter up at you. He struggles to keep them open as a dopey grin spreads across his bitten lips, and you have to bite your own to stop from returning it.

Then, your eyes travel down to the steadily shrinking tent of his pants, now adorned with a dark wet stain- just like you expected.

Hot.

"Pathetic."

You sit back on you heels, seemingly alerting Adrian to your absence as his hand flies up to grab his throat with a high whine- but you cut that shit off right away.

"Yeah, no, I'm not trying to catch a murder charge tonight, thanks. Besides," your eyes pointedly flick down between his spread legs, causing his face to heat up though he makes no move to close them, "it looks like you got more than your share- frankly, you should be grateful for anything I'm willing to give you."

Adrian's voice is hoarse when he tries to insist, "I am! I-" he cuts off with a heavy cough, which only has you wincing with guilt a little. "I'm- I'm grateful. I am!"

You don't doubt it, especially looking into those watery, red-rimmed puppydog eyes of his. However, you do like to be cruel, and you did just get a bunch of texts from some of your friends about this 'super crazy thing you don't wanna miss and you gotta get down here right now!', (and you're maybe feeling a little uncharacteristically giddy as you fully process your situation) so...

"Doesn't matter, I can't reward this insolence."

You untie the shoelace with a deft tug and slide off the bed without another word.

Adrian just barely stops himself from whining again, the sudden loss of the pressure around his wrists leaving him feeling untethered. He has to dig his nails into his hands as he watches you collect your things (the covered platter lay forgotten on the table, insult to injury), just to keep from reaching out for you.

He wants desperately to follow you, but he can't make his body move for how relaxed and heavy it feels, and he knows it would probably just upset you more anyway- and not in the good way.

“Oh, and Adrian?” You slap the doorframe as you hang off of it, and your use of his name has Adrian's groggy head springing up to face you instantly, ears high and eyes hopeful.

“Next time you want a picture of me, just ask. That way I can knock some sense into you right away.” You tap the frame again, a crooked grin fixing your lips before you push off.

“See ya tomorrow!”

Still too fuzzy to move, and in fresh shock from that almost-genuine smile, he can only listen forlornly as your steps grow fainter and fainter until the door shuts downstairs. Then, he's helpless to do anything beyond replay the events of the past ten minutes in obsessive detail in attempts to permanently document every single sensation you gave to him.

He only manages to move about a half hour later, when his phone buzzes with a text.

He slowly leans over the bed and lifts his phone from the floor, blinking blearily as he reads... your name. Attached to a ludicrously extravagant lunch order for tomorrow.

The phone drops from his fingers like lead.

How?

His heart starts racing as he wracks his brain to recall when you put his number in your phone- then, his tail starts up again as he wonders if he'll be punished for already having yours in his (not for anything weird! he just likes to type out walls of text complimenting every part of you and telling you exactly the ways he wants you to destroy him and then deleting them- but maybe he'll send the next one).

It must mean something good if you want to keep in close contact with him, right? That must mean you aren't really mad at him, right? That must mean you like him, right? You still think he’s a good boy, right?

Another text lights up his phone. He scrambles to grab it back, hands shaking as he holds the screen close to his face.

[ur gnna b my bitch 4evr now]

A shaky giggle escapes him.

Those are easily the most beautiful words he’s ever read.

thanks so much for reading! feel free to send a request <3

check my pinned post~

[mayghosts]

kate martin x photographer!reader….

Kate Martin: Kate x photographer!reader Headcannons

Summary: Request :)

Warnings: little NSFT on the bottom, all fluff other than that!!

AN: Guys I am actually writing this in the bathroom at 1 AM because we have no wifi/cell service in my bedroom so its not proof read well

FRIEND ERA:

♠︎ You guys initially met during a seminar you both shared, she sat next to you while you were editing photos and was very distracted by your screen the whole class

♦︎ After that she just kept sitting next to you until she built up the confidence to ask about you work

“Hi, sorry if this is weird but you are such a good photographer! I have seen your photos during class and stuff… is it your job?” You smiled at her praise, you had seen her looking at your screen for the past few classes so you were happy she finally said something. “Thanks!! I'm not, but I hope one day I can be!”

♣︎ It took her about a year to convince you to start doing photos for the basketball team because you didn’t have a lot of confidence in your work at first and you didn't know a ton about sports photography

♥︎ Always your biggest hype women and would always insist on accompanying you to shoots or posing you you

♠︎ During practices she would always try to show off so you would take more photos of her

“Y/N! Wait I'm gonna do something cool, get a photo of this” “Did you get it?” “Does it look cool?” *you can hear Gabbie and Cait making fun of her in the background*

♦︎ Whenever she had a water break she would be peering over your shoulder trying to look at the photos you took

♣︎ She loves watching you edit, download and share photos. She would lie on your bed for hours just silently watching and adding little comments here and there

♥︎Always makes fun of you for taking a lot of photos of her (you can't help it, she's just very pretty)

“Jeez y/n how many did you take?” you scrolled down through the file you had just downloaded, “Uhh I guess a lot more than I thought…”

DATING ERA:

♣︎ Kates Instagram is never low when it comes to photos due to the huge amounts you take of her

♥︎ When she gets drafted to the Aces, you move in with her and join the photography crew there

♠︎ Her praise increases tenfold and she is so supportive of your career and you work

You groaned letting your head fall in your hands, for some reason none of the photos looked right. Sliding off the bed Kate came up behind you to wrap her arms around your shoulders. “Whats wrong baby?” sighing you pulled you head up, wresting it back against Kates shoulder. “They all look weird! I haven't taken any good photos for a while, I’m scared their gonna drop me from the crew.” Spinning you around in your chair Kate looked at you in your eyes, “Baby you are an amazing photographer, and they would be beyond stupid to let you go. I know you have something good in there because I loved everything I saw during practice. Why don't we just go eat and then we can look at it again with a fresh set of eyes, okay?” You sighed and nodded, standing up and pulling Kate into a hug.

♦︎ Constantly buying you more equipment and cameras. Any tool or piece of equipment you mention bring interested in… its on your desk next week

♣︎ She insisted that you teach her how to take photos, and for her birthday you bought her a cute little camera

“Hey Katie baby, can I see the photos you took?” She smilled excitedly at you as she handed you her camera. As you flipped through, you began to notice a common theme in all of these photos. “Baby, I love these but did you take any photos without me in them?” (she didn't)

♠︎ always showing off your photos and plugging your website like crazy to anyone she meets

♥︎ The hard launch is very photo perfect- but also super cute and natural

♦︎You always wear her jersey when you take photos during games and your photos are still very Kate heavy

NSFT

♥︎ Nudes go crazy.

[ruth-odyssey]

༺✩༻ D is for Dangerous

mattheo riddle x fem!reader

wc. 2k

summary: after pairing up with a slytherin for a potion project, you somehow find yourself unable to tear away from him  

tw. fem!reader, reader is implied to be a gryffindor and not British but I don't mention it alot, reader is kinda awkward and has a crude humor (based on my own ngl). My poor attempt at explaining how I make friends. Set in sixth year but we gon pretend everyone is 17 (it's for the plot bear with me) and voldy died so we dont worry about him :)

a/n. Hello! This is my first fic so pls be nice. Started as a theo fic but my moot @celestia-5o5 said reader had more chemistry with mattheo so I changed it. Part 2 should be up pretty soon :) btw 10 galleons is like 73.5 usd

part 2

Potions are fun, well usually it is. You see, Professor Slughorn has a way of making his classes fun and the hardest potions seem like lightwork as long as you have a functioning brain and some sense of what you’re doing. What isn't fun on the other hand are group projects. Sure pairing up with your friends is nice; you know them and you’re sure they'll do their work. But not with people you don't know. So when Slughorn announced at the end of class that the class would have to prepare amortentia in pairs of his choice, you were ready to beg your ancestors for a partner willing to do at least some of the work. But to your demise (and the whole class really) Slughorn announced the pairs would be from different houses in order to ‘improve inter house relationships’, sending a pointed look at Potter and Malfoy. A list was stuck to the board and that was that. 

Sighing as you pack your things, you make your way to the board where a couple of your classmates have crowinding up. You get on your tiptoes, trying to find your family name on the page. (l/n),  (l/n),  (l/n).... Ah it's there! And next to it… Riddle. You press your lips together, turning your head to find the Slytherin. You're not quite sure how the boy even got in Slughorn advanced potion class but you still hope he’ll do his part. At least I could get him to freeze the Ashwinder eggs since it's a pain…” As you try to spot him, you hear a loud “Who the bloody hell is (l/n)” Turning around you finally spot him, he’s sitting on a desk, next to Malfoy, somehow spotting his name a few meters away from the board. His eyes meet your unimpressed one, and he flashes you his signature smirk. You give him a once over, trying your best not to roll your eyes. He makes his way to you, stopping in front of you. 

“Looks like we’re partners huh?” he looks at you with a look you assume makes girls eat in the palm of his hand. Boys…. “I'm going to the library after class, let's meet up there to slip up the ingredient prep.” He surveys your face, nodding. You leave the classroom, hurrying up the stairs to your transfiguration class.

—————————————

“Ok we’re gonna need to ask Slughorn to give us some pearl dust, from his personal collection, can you take care of that?” You glance up from your notebook to a seemingly uninterested Mattheo. “Are you even listening?” he glances up “Yeah you’re asking me to fetch the pearl dust.” Ok well maybe the project wouldn’t be so bad. Mattheo straightened up, resting his elbow on the table, joining his hands together. “So tell me, how come I've never heard of you before?” You close your notebook, leaning on your chair, “we never talked before today.” He smirks “Actually I dont think I’ve ever seen you talk to anyone before? Do you even have friends?” You raise an eyebrow, unsure why he seems so interested. “I do have friends…” you cross your arms over your chest, glaring at him. He raised his hands in defeat “hey can't blame me for being curious”. 

Fortunately for you, Mattheo, while being mostly clueless about potion, was willing to both help and learn, taking some task of the amortentia making process upon himself. The month quickly passed, and the potion turned out to be a success. Slughorn was pleasantly surprised by your grade, especially when you confirmed that Matheo did part of it. Which brings you to your current predicament; Matheo and you, standing in front of Slughorn’s desk, waiting for the last of your classmates to leave. “Miss.(l/n), I’d like for you to tutor Mr. Riddle for a few months.” Your eyes widen, taken aback by the professor’s request. “Uhm, professor, may I ask why me?” Slughorn smiles, gathering some paper on his desk, which you assume is for his next class. “I know you are a talented student, Miss.(l/n), and you and Mr. Riddle seems to be quite the team. The potion’s quality was excellent and if what you told me about Mr. Riddle's contribution to it is indeed true… you might be able to help him raise his grades.” He gestures towards Mattheo, continuing “Mr. Riddle here is a talented quidditch player and while I know he doesn't play in your house’s team,  it would truly be a shame if he couldn't play the upcoming seasons because of his grades…” You glance at Mattheo, who sends you a sheepish look. “I.. I'll do it” Mattheo’s eyes widen “really? You will?” you nod, and Slughorn clasp his hands together bleaming. “Excellent, truly admirable Miss.(l/n), it seems you two are the only ones who truly grasped the point of this project!” Seemingly happy with himself, the professor continues talking to himself. You and Mattheo share a look, and decide it might be best to leave. The walk back to the Great Hall is quiet. As you take the stairs to get to transfiguration class he stops you. “Hey I just wanted to say thank you for accepting to tutor me even though” he gestures between the two of you “it's nice I appreciated it.” He smiles and you think Slytherins can't all be bad. You shake your head “no problem, don't mention it… also, the whole Gryffindor and Slytherin should be sworn enemies thing… it's not really my thing so I don't mind… but just because I'm tutoring you doesn't mean I'll cheer for you out there.” you can help but smile. He seems surprised but he simply returns your smile and nods, leaving for his next class. 

—————————————

In the first few days you spend tutoring Mattheo you learn a few things. First, all Slytherins aren't stuck ups who believe in blood purity rank, Mattheo and his older brother Tom – and their half-blood status — proved that. Secondly, if there was one thing Mattheo did know, it was quidditch. He’d started playing in second year as a chaser, and he's good, really good. And Thirdly, he had a knack to make you feel at ease, going as far as making your tutoring lessons enjoyable. Well maybe a little too much…..

Leaning back on his chair, Mattheo looks at you.“You know, you aren’t as serious as I originally thought.” You look up from your notebook. “What do you mean?” He smiles as he speaks. “When I first saw you, I assumed you were super serious and reserved.” You think for a moment, answering him with a shrug. “I guess, I’m pretty introverted, I usually make friends when extroverted people adopt me.” Mattheo burst out laughing, earning a disapproving look from Mrs. Pince – the librarian. You shush him, glaring. “Be quiet!! We’re gonna get kicked out because you’re too loud.” Mattheo lowers his voice, trying to keep his laugh to a minimum. “I'm sorry, it's just that I pictured an abandoned kitten in a box when you said that.” You look at him bewildered. “It's a metaphor????” Mattheo takes a deep breath, trying to calm down his laughter. “I know it’s a metaphor but it's the funniest one I’ve ever heard.” You start laughing silently. “Why are you people like this??” Mattheo pretends to be offended by the friendly jab. “How dare you bring my country into this?!” You facepalm, taking a deep breath. “Mattheo this has nothing to do with England,  you’re the most unserious person I’ve ever met, you would laugh at a piece of toast falling.” Mattheo raises his voice, trying to defend himself, a smile tugging his lips. “I do NOT find humor in a piece of toast falling!” He pauses for a moment, his smiles widening further. “Ok maybe I do, but that's beside the point!” The b0th of you continue cracking j0kes until Mrs. Pince has to – quite literally – ask you to leave. Matthew bites back his laugh, sending an apologetic look at Mrs. Pince. “Of course, we were just leaving.” Packing your bags, you leave the library in a hurry.

“I can't believe it, we actually got kicked out of the library” Mattheo’s eyes find yours, an incredulous look on his face, as if the idea of being kicked out of a library – for pretty much disturbing everyone – was inconceivable. You put a hand over your chest, struggling to breathe. “Wait, I literally can't breathe right now.” Mattheo continues laughing, a smile on his face. “We got kicked out of the library….” His face fall suddenly realising what happened “MERLIN’S BEARD WE GOT KICKED OUT OF THE FUCKING LIBRARY!!” “MATTHEO QUIET DOWN!!!” He covers his mouth, realizing how loud he just was. He turns to you whispering. “If they tell Slughorn I’m totally getting detention,” You shake your head, “It's fine we were just a bit loud, they won't give you detention for that… right?” Mattheo passes a hand through his hair, looking around the hallway. “Who knows, maybe Dumbeldore will decide to give me detention AND make us pay for a library pass..” He lowers his voice, seeing some very confused Ravenclaws nearby, staring skeptically. 

You sign “Man I'm too broke for library pass….” Mattheo dramatically puts a hand over his heart, pretending to be heartbroken. “You can't afford the 10 galleons?? Me neither.” You turn your head towards him. “Charging us 10 galleons for a library pass is crazy” Mattheo shrugs, acting as if 10 galleons is pocket change. “Well if it's the price to pay to enter the forbidden lands of the library...” He glanced at you, cracking a smile. Doubling up with laughter, you shake your head as you start walking “shut up Riddle.” Mattheo laughs as well, catching up to you. “I mean, it was kinda your fault we got kicked out.” “ME??? I did nothing! YOU are the trouble maker mister!” Mattheo crosses his arm, offended. “Why am I the one being pinned as a troublemaker?! YOU were the one that kept laughing!” He rolls his eyes playfully, giving you a slight shove. “Dang and you also hit women huh?” Mattheo looks at you horrified, almost tripping on air. “I do NOT hit women. And even if I did, THAT wasn't even a hit! It was a shove, a light one at that.”

—————————————

As it turns out, you were indeed right; Slytherins – despite their house’s history – are not all wicked people destined to use black magic. Mattheo, judging you were close enough, decided to introduce you to his group and friend. Draco, Blaise, Lorenzo, Theodore and Pansy. Blaise, despite his cold facade, quickly became a brotherly figure, always saving you seats, and making sure no one was giving you trouble. Lorenzo, while being a slytherin, was a ray of sunshine, always lifting the mood, and eager for gossip. Speaking of gossip, the amount of information Pansy had told you over the few weeks you’ve known her was appalling. The sheer amount of detail was enough that you knew she definitely had to have inside sources in every house. Theodore on the other hand was nothing short but quiet and sleepy. The boy – while being described as an excellent student by his teachers – had a habit of falling asleep pretty much everywhere. You once found him sleeping, a lit cigarette in his mouth. Mattheo assured you it was a common occurrence and that the boy was indeed all right. 

As for Draco, even the ‘wicked’ prince of Slytherin – or blond ferret depending who you’re asking – isn't as wicked as he is said to be. Annoying and pretentious? Yes. But also extremely fun to annoy. “I’ll let you know that the Malfoys are part of the Sacred 28!” He says, clearly proud of his pure-blood heritage. You exchange a look with Blaise, who starts laughing as if he knew exactly what you were itching to say. You look back at Draco, cracking a smile “You guys must really like to keep it in the family, huh?” It takes him a few seconds to realize the innuendo, while the whole group bursts out laughing. He looks baffled, and for a few seconds you think he just might try to hex you. “I- How dare you. We do not practice incest!” He crosses his arms over his chest, sulking – yes the famous prince of Slytherin is sulking – “Oh come on Malfoy don't be a baby I only was joking.” Your apology drowning in the sound of laughter. 

[theemporium]

sugar daddy charles concerned af when he doesn’t hear from his girl but she keeps pulling all nighters for uni and she is crashing and burning so he jets over to sort her life out

listen this just happened and i don't even know what to say for myself but anyways🤠

.

“Charles—”

“Shhh, baby, it’s okay. That’s it, mon amour, just like that,” he cooed softly as he ran his fingers gliding up and down your thighs. “Just let go f’me.” 

“I-I can’t,” you whined, shaking your head as the tears began to well up in your eyes. It was too much. Far too much, and still a part of you craved more. “I need to—”

“You need to listen to me, amour,” he murmured against your skin, pressing light and soft kisses along the inside of your thighs. “And I’m telling you to relax.”

It wasn’t unusual for you to not answer your messages straight away. After all, Charles himself got caught up in meetings and duties, and it sometimes meant that he wouldn’t be able to reply for a few hours. He knew you were in a similar position with lectures and classes and meetings with your professors.

But it was different. 

Usually it was just a bad day here or there, but this time it had been a few days in a row and his concern was growing. You barely replied to him, and even when you did, your replies were sporadic at best. When he looked at the shared location you both had, his worry grew tenfold when he realised you hadn’t left your flat in days. But his breaking point was when he sent someone to deliver food at your door, and despite the insistent knocking, it went unanswered. 

You weren’t taking care of yourself, and he didn’t like it at all.

Charles pushed all his meetings and duties back a week. They still had a fortnight until the next race weekend and they could cope in Maranello alone without him for a while. They would have to. He called the company to have the jet waiting for him at the airport as he drove over, and he hopped on a plane straight to you. 

And when he arrived, Charles realised he was right.

You were overworking yourself. You were barely eating or sleeping or drinking enough water. You probably had more caffeine in your body than a human ever should have. You looked exhausted and he could see the toll it was starting to take on you, and yet you still insisted that you needed to study for your exams that you had in almost a month’s time. 

You weren’t taking care of yourself in the slightest, and his heart broke. You were his: his love, his equal, his partner, his to take care off. He wanted nothing more than for you to be happy and spoiled like you deserved to be, and instead you were working yourself to the bone and he didn’t think you even realised just how far you were pushing yourself.

So, Charles got you to relax in the only way he knew how.

Maybe it was a little manipulative to say he just wanted to hold you, that he wanted to be selfish and enjoy just laying down with you before you started studying again. But you were too tense and too tired and too overworked, and it was Charles’ job to take care of you so that’s what he did.

“Hmm, my girl wants to come again?” He questioned, his hands pawing and squeezing the fat of your thighs as he pulled your legs over his shoulders. He had you sprawled on the bed for the last forty minutes, made you come at least twice on his tongue, and he had no interest in stopping. “Say it, amour. Tell me what you want.”

“You,” you gasped out as your fingers fisted the sheets, a choked out moan leaving your lips as he licked a thick strip up your soaking cunt. “Charles, I need you. Please.”

“That’s it, amour,” he groaned happily as he nuzzled his face further against you, kissing and licking and sucking until his hands were pinning you down to the mattress. “You need me, and I’m gonna take care of you like I always do, yes?”

“Yes!” You whined, your back arching off the bed as his lips wrapped around your clit and sucked hard.

“Good girl,” he groaned as he lifted his head, his lips and chin glistening with your release. “Gonna make you come one more time and then you’re gonna dress up all pretty so I can take you out for dinner. Do you understand?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, a little high-pitched and a little too dazed to say words right now.

But Charles grinned in response anyways. “My perfect girl.”

.

[fourmoony]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬

james potter x f!reader, modern college au, 1.3k

cw: smoking, past rejection, implied self-esteem issues

summary: reader isn't as subtle as she thinks about her crush on jamie

James is propped up against the hood of his car when you pull into the space next to his. He's talking to Sirius and Remus, who stand a few paces in front of James, both smoking a cigarette. Technically, they're not supposed to smoke on campus, but you doubt anyone would be stupid enough to mention that to Sirius Black and his infamously smart-mouthed boyfriend.

James turns his gaze to you as your engine cuts out, keys jangling in your hand and he lifts his hand in a wave. You wave back, half focussed on collecting the multitude of things on your passenger seat and stuffing them into your bag. The carrier bag in your footwell snags your attention, heart stammering a little with the reminder of what lies inside. It's cool. In your opinion, a very cool poster. One you know James has been looking for, for months. His favourite band.

But there's a voice in the back of your head, one born of being fourteen and asking a crush out, only to be told you'd gotten the wrong idea. A voice born of years of being lusted after, but not wanted. It's a voice that tells you James might assume you got this poster because you fancy him and find it weird.

And, sure. You might have went to the lengths of scrolling the internet for hours and paying extra for express shipping because you couldn't wait to see his smile when he unveiled it, to watch his eyes crinkle at the corners with excitement. There's something so overwhelmingly pretty and soft about James Potter. You've been living with that heavy admittance in your chest all semester and next week, your final term of sharing classes with James will end and you want him to remember you. You want to be able to say you tried.

But you don't want him to know all of that.

With a glance, you look back to James. He's waiting patiently for you, still talking to Sirius and Remus. The bag crinkles when you pick it up, the anxiety prickling over your skin like a heat rash. His friends offer you kind smiles when you exit the car, bag slung over your shoulder and the framed poster in hand. "Your engine doesn't sound great, love. You checked your oil recently?" Sirius asks, foregoing a proper greeting.

James laughs at the same time Remus rolls his eyes, akin to a love sick fool even when he's pretending not to be. "Ignore him," Remus drawls, flicking his cigarette to the ground, "He's decided he's going to be a mechanic."

In the year you've known Sirius Black, he's decided he's going to be an artist, then the lead singer of a band, then a lawyer, then a pilot, and now, he's going to be a mechanic. You hope, one day, that one might stick. Though, you've seen how much he loves his motorbike and would put money on the mechanic idea sticking around for a while longer than the time he wanted to buy a zoo.

"Oh, right. You can have a look if you like, but Jamie filled the oil last week." You tell Sirius, who scowls at his best friend.

James smiles kindly when you settle beside him against his car, leaning over to bump your shoulder with his bicep. His height difference is nothing, compared to Remus, but you still have to look up to meet his kind eyes. "Hi." He says.

"Hey."

Sirius scoffs, "Hi."

James pointedly ignores him, "What's in the bag?"

Your eyes nervously flick to Sirius and Remus, the former becoming incredibly interested in what's in the bag as well. Remus must sense your hesitation, because he grabs his boyfriend by the wrist and turns to walk away. "See you later, Prongs. Bye, love."

Sirius can be heard causing a scene even when Remus has dragged him half way across the student parking area. You smile after them fondly.

"You gonna make me guess?" James asks, pushing off of his car to stand and face you.

You have to crane your neck even worse to meet his eyes at this angle, but it's worth it. They're so light in the morning sun they look crystallised. He looks amused, lips twitching as he looks down at you. Heat prickles over your skin as he assesses you. "What's in the bag?"

You hand it to him, wordlessly, and nod for him to look inside. He pulls the frame, turning it until he can see the poster inside. His brows furrow, then lift, his lips parting in surprise. Genuine joy passes through his eyes and you wonder how someone can be so readable, so expressive. His beauty astounds you.

James looks at you, mouth opening and closing like he can't find the words.

"It's for you," You offer, rather dumbly, "Obviously."

James laughs a little breathless, the sound sending your heart slamming into your rib cage. "Where on earth?" He asks, bewildered.

"It's a secret. But I know how long you've wanted one, so I had it framed for safe keeping."

"Thank you," James slides the frame back into the bag, sets it to lean against the front of his car. "Seriously, thank you."

You shrug, hoping it's somewhat believable. "No big deal."

James rolls his eyes at your nonchalance. "Can I hug you? Is that too much? I feel like I should hug you."

You laugh, the feeling of anxiety lifting as James reaches forward to wrap his arms around you. He's warm and soft and smells like cologne and freshly washed clothes. His arms squeeze you tight, his nose buried in your hair where he's hunched over.

"Let me take you to dinner or something, as a thank you." James says as he pulls away, unlocking his car to place the frame safely in the passenger footwell.

"Really, James, you don't have to do that. It's just a poster." You wave him off, pushing off of the car and collecting your bag.

James follows as you walk, shoulder to bicep, skin brushing and your heart in your mouth from the contact alone. "I'm taking you to dinner. Not because I have to, but because I want to."

You find yourself fighting a smile, "Well if you want to." Your voice is teasing an it makes James smile.

"I do. It's a date." James tells you, like it's nothing.

You've halted in the doorway he's holding open for you, head tilting to look into his face. To be sure. To make sure he's not kidding, to make sure he doesn't mean a 'friend date'. He smiles, knowingly.

"You're not subtle, you know," He ushers you through the door, eager to make it to your class on time, "That poster is not easy to find, nor is it cheap."

"It's what friends do." You protest, cheeks warm and palms sweaty.

You brace for rejection, for a joke, for the 'I just don't see you that way'. But James rolls his eyes, reaching around you for the door to the classroom, "Friend's don't go on dates."

"We haven't been on a date." You laugh, incredulously, leading James to your usual seats.

It's a nice feeling, a warm feeling, to feel suddenly safe within your conversation. To feel the normal level of comfort you do with James, even when putting yourself out there. James frowns, "We've been on multiple dates. The library, the cafeteria, the coffee shop just off campus. We even went to that Ethics seminar that one time!"

It takes looking at him to realise he's kidding, the corners of his lips twitching up until he can't fight it anymore. It should be unsettling, for him to make a joke of it. But as he sits, his hand brushes over your shoulder, a gentle touch that sets your skin on fire. "I'm kidding, when I take you out for real, there'll be no confusion on whether or not it's a date."

His breath fans over your ear, warm and his voice thick and you think you might pass out, saved only by the entrance of your professor. James settles in, sends you a wink that has you more flustered than it should.

"Noted." You whisper, though you don't imagine James has heard you.

[lilasamaaa]

Missed chances | Max Verstappen x Reader / Part One

Genre | Angst, Hurt, Fluff.

Word count | 4.1K

Warnings | Mentions of heartbreak, alcohol consumption, Max being an asshole.

Summary | It's been years since you've had a crush on your best friend's brother. But him too, right? Or is kissing you every chance he gets just a game for him?

Author's note | Angsty Queen is back at it! This piece is the result of this poll. Thank you so much for all the feedback on the previous pieces, I'm so glad you like them. Enjoy this one! (Not proofread yet, sorry!)

You and Victoria are thirteen when you cross paths for the first time. The shy blonde girl stands upright, nervously nibbling her lip. It's the first day of school, and you're both waiting to find out which class you'll be in, hoping to be with friends. Her gaze meets yours, and she offers a timid smile. You're not friends. Not yet. You just have mutual friends. Your names are called almost simultaneously, indicating that you're in the same class. Instinctively, you head towards her, giving her a big smile. You don't know anyone else in the class, so you'll have to get to know each other. Stick together.

A few months later, as your father drops you off in front of Victoria's house before rushing off to your little brother's soccer practice, you take a moment to observe the pale blue house from the outside. Upstairs, a curtain moves, catching your attention. You don't see anybody, though. You knock on the door, and Victoria opens it, immediately throwing herself into your arms.

"I'm so glad your parents agreed to this," she says, excited. "This is gonna be so cool. My parents aren't home so Max is supposed to look after us, but he'll probably lock himself in his room. Boys, you know..." she finishes, leading you into the hallway.

Max? For months, you've been sharing your lives between classes, but you've never heard this name before.

"Who's Max?" you ask, curious.

"My older brother," she replies, rolling her eyes. "We don't get along so well these days. He thinks he's all grown up... Barely even acknowledge me," Victoria says, frustration evident in her voice.

"I can relate," you reply sarcastically. "Well, mine's younger, but not that interested in me either."

You spend the afternoon in her room painting your nails, braiding each other's hair, and sharing your secrets (you're starting to run out, after all this time), until night falls. You're deep in conversation when someone knocks on the door. That must be Max, you think, waiting for the door to open.

And it is Max, indeed. His face appears, and your heart skips a beat. He's cute. He seems a bit grumpy. Not in the best mood, that's true. But there's something immediately touching about his big, wide eyes and annoyed expression.

"Diner's ready," Max says before closing the door.

"I bet he made fish sticks again," Victoria grumbles, getting up. "That's the only thing he knows how to cook."

Sitting at the table, cutting a fish stick in half with your fork, your gaze shifts from Victoria to Max, who sit across from each other, not exchanging a word.

"So..." you start shyly. "What's your favorite subject, Max?" you ask, immediately regretting your words as the boy glances in your direction, brows furrowed.

Of course, your only topic of conversation is school. You've always been one of the top students. A real bookworm, as they say. Plus, you're not exactly comfortable around boys, especially those around your age. Victoria shoots you a desperate look, eyes wide open. But right now, anything seems better than this uncomfortable, excruciating silence.

"Erm," Max says, grabbing a green bean with his fork. "Geography, I guess. I don't know."

Silence falls once again, lingering until each of you finishes your meal, and then Victoria and you retreat to her room.

"Don't even bother trying to talk to him," the blonde says as she slips into her pajamas. "Nothing interests him except go-karting."

The next time you encounter Max, you're fourteen, and he's sixteen. Victoria and you are participating in an endurance race to raise funds for a charity, and your families have been invited to attend the event. Your parents, who have crossed paths several times at school meetings and other events, find each other in the stands and share enthusiastic greetings before sitting down. Already on the track, you watch the reunion with a smile when your eyes fall on him. Max is here? you think. He never attends these things.

The race begins, and Victoria and you take off along the lake, completing lap after lap. On one of them, as you pass by the stands, particularly the one where your parents are seated, you turn your head, hoping to catch a glimpse of them. You don't see your father or your mother. Your eyes only see him. Max. And he's looking at you, too. Your eyes don't leave each other until your foot slips on a stone, and your ankle twists violently. You fall to the ground, letting out a cry of pain as your father rises, rushing to your aid.

A little less than an hour later, as Victoria finishes her run and joins you at the infirmary, the blonde gives you a worried yet disapproving look. "You're too distracted," she says, hand on her hip. "What was it this time? Did you see a cute boy or something? Was it Jan?". You don't respond, giving a sheepish smile to your friend. A cute boy, yeah...

As the years go by, you see Max less and less. At the beginning of your friendship with Victoria, you often ran into the young man when you spent afternoons or nights at the Verstappen's, but the aspiring driver has started to become increasingly scarce in his own home. One evening, though, as you're racking your brains over a philosophy essay, your phone vibrates, signaling a message from the person who's become your best friend.

"Max is throwing a fucking rager at home. Please come, I beg you. I'll shoot myself if I have to deal with his drunk friends all alone."

Thirty minutes later, you're on your bike, covering the five kilometers that separate your house from Victoria's. Summer has begun, with only a few days of classes left, which certainly explains Max's sudden urge to throw a party. On your bike, you're anxious, your stomach tying itself in knots. Despite your daily visits to Victoria, it's been almost a year since you've last seen her older brother. You try to convince yourself that the fact you applied a bit of mascara to your lashes or straightened your hair has nothing to do with his presence. You just wanted to tidy up a bit, that's all. Nothing else to it.

When you arrive at the blue house, your first instinct is to anxiously glance at the surrounding houses. How has no one called the cops yet, you think, impressed by the decibels pouring out of the open windows, and the number of people you can already see inside the house. Leaving your bike in the grass, you venture into the house, passing by the wide open front door. On the way to the living room, drunk bodies cling to you, spilling beer on your shoes, shouting incomprehensible words in your ears. Wow. Victoria wasn't kidding. This thing is a huge mess.

Spotting your friend in the middle of the kitchen, you make your way to her.

"What the fuck is happening here?" you ask, casting a glance over the room.

"Can you believe this asshole?" Victoria replies, fuming. "Mom has been gone for five hours. Five! And I haven't even finished my fucking essay," she says, despair filling her eyes.

"Forget about it," you reply, stifling a laugh. "That's not happening tonight."

Victoria launches into another tirade about how much her brother annoys her when you catch sight of him in the middle of the living room. He's wearing a shirt that looks slightly too big for him. Maybe borrowed from his dad. He's holding a beer in one hand. A girl in the other. The sight twists your heart and brings a bitter taste to your mouth. Clinging to his arm, the blonde —who you recognize as Sanne, a girl from his class— can't seem to tear her gaze from Max, looking at him as if he belonged in a museum.

"Hey, are you listening?" Victoria says, bringing you back to reality.

"What?"

"They want to play a game," Victoria repeats. "Seven minutes in heaven."

"Seven minutes in heaven?" you repeat, eyes wide.

"Yeah. Sanne suggested it."

Of course she did, you think, biting your lip. Of course Sanne, who clearly has a big crush on Max, would suggest a game where the goal is to get locked in a narrow closet with someone for seven minutes.

"Listen to me," Victoria says, suddenly serious. "If Max has to be locked in a closet with anyone, I want it to be you. We'll figure it out. We'll cheat at the draw," she continues. "I hate Sanne. At least with you, I know nothing will happen."

You swallow loudly, completely at a loss for words. Getting locked in a closet with Max? The Max who's never really noticed you? Who's always seen you as nothing but a kid because you're a year and a half younger and his sister's friend? You don't have much time to think about it because already, you're sitting in a circle in the middle of the living room with a dozen other people, a bottle in the center.

Johannes, a friend of Max's, spins the bottle, which lands on Sanne. The girl's eyes sparkle with excitement, her gaze fixed on Max. Johannes spins the bottle again, and this time, it stops in front of another girl you don't know. You glance at Victoria, who seems particularly amused by the situation. Sanne looks absolutely gutted.

"Rules are rules, girls," Johannes says, laughing.

A boy from your class escorts the girls to the closet by the entrance before locking them in and starting a timer. The seven minutes pass, filled by various discussions. When the alarm goes off and the girls are freed, Sanne sits back in the circle, her face closed off.

"It's my turn to spin the bottle," she announces, seizing the plastic object.

She's quite skilled, as the bottle spins twice before landing directly in front of Max. Sanne grabs the bottle again, sending it spinning, and it rotates for a while before stopping right in front of you. Sanne seems beside herself, but your attention is focused on Victoria, who gives you a discreet thumbs-up. Your eyes meet Max's, and it's safe to say the young man doesn't look too pleased. But as Johannes said, rules are rules, and the two of you get up before walking towards the closet.

The space is ridiculously tiny. Max ventures in first, one foot behind the vacuum cleaner, the other squeezed between two shoe shelves. There's barely enough room for two people to fit, and as Johannes pushes you inside unceremoniously and you hear the lock click behind you, you realize you're standing between Max's legs, your hands on his chest.

"Sorry," you say, trying to get away, your back hitting the door.

A heavy silence settles between you as outside, you hear the lively conversations resume in the living room.

"I'm sure you would have preferred to be locked in with Sanne," you say, trying to fill the silence that's slowly eating away at you.

"Not really," Max responds, evasive.

"Aren't you two together?" you ask, curious.

He scoffs against you, sending vibrations to your chest.

"She would like to, yeah," Max says, as you feel his breath against your face despite him being twenty centimeters taller than you.

"And you don't?" you ask, trying to appear nonchalant even though you fear his answer.

"I don't have time for her."

"Oh. I didn't realize your time was so precious," you reply, stunned.

"Depends on who it's spent with," Max replies, his voice deeper.

You're suddenly incredibly grateful to be plunged into darkness because your cheeks are definitely burning red. Is Max Verstappen flirting with you?

"You've changed since the last time I saw you," he continues, as you feel like the temperature in the closet has risen several degrees.

"Changed how?" you ask, seeking his gaze despite the darkness.

"You're taller. Your hair seems longer. It's lightened up a bit, it's nice," he says. "Sixteen suits you. You're not a kid anymore."

You're going to suffocate. Die in a closet.

"We're only a year and a half apart," you reply, breathless.

"I know," he replies, as you feel his hand caress your cheek. "I'm not a kid anymore either."

His lips crash onto yours before you even have time to comprehend what's happening. You melt into him, closing your eyes, savoring the contact you've dreamed of for years. His hand rests on the back of your head, bringing you closer to him, as your hands find their way back to his chest. You bite his lip, and he lets out a groan before wrapping his arms around your waist. You thank the loud music from the living room for drowning out the sounds you're making in this closet, pressed against one another. Your hands find his neck, and his crawl to your ass, squeezing it as you let out a moan against his open mouth.

You thought you couldn't get any closer, but one of Max's hands slips under your right knee, lifting your leg. You've never kissed anyone. Never touched anyone. Yet, as your two groins press against each other, everything feels so easy, so natural. You could stay here for hours, exploring his mouth, his face, his body, but already, footsteps echo in the hallway, and you pull away from each other as if you'd been burned.

"Time's up, lovers!" Johannes says opening the door, prompting laughter from the living room.

"As if," Max says, getting out first. "That's disgusting, bro. She's like my sister."

You stay in the closet for a few seconds, watching the two boys go back to the living room, catching your breath. Several hours later, lying in Victoria's bed as the music has stopped and most of the guests have left the house, you stare at the ceiling, unable to fall asleep, despite your best friend softly snoring by your side. Getting up to get a glass of water, you walk blindly through the dark hallway, passing by Max's room.

"Can we talk?" a voice suddenly rises, making you jump, your hand finding your heart which threatens to leap out of your chest.

You remain silent. Not quite sure if you want to talk, let alone with Max. And certainly not to talk about earlier, in the closet, and be rejected by the boy who stole your heart.

"Come here," he says, pulling you into his room before closing the door behind him. "I don't want Victoria to hear."

You're about to pour your heart out, tell Max how much he hurt you, when he pulls you towards him and presses his lips to yours. Again. Everything you had planned to say escapes your mind as your tongues meet and the hands of your best friend's brother slide under your shirt, stroking your back. Max pulls back, sitting on his bed, pulling you onto his lap, one leg on each side of him. The kisses intensify, your noses brushing, your hands getting lost in each other's hair. Your lips speaking without sound, your hearts opening up without words.

"I don't understand you," you admit between kisses.

"Don't try," he replies, biting your lip.

Max grabs your butt, pressing you against him, and a flash of panic grips you when you feel him against you. Hard. You moan, and suddenly, all the reason seems to come back to him. It's you. His sister's best friend. He pulls back, avoiding your gaze.

"I..." he starts, breathless. "You should go," Max says before pushing you off his lap. You stand here, facing him awkwardly for a few seconds. Waiting for him to say something. Anything. When nothing comes, his head still low, you turn on your heels. Back in Victoria's room, slipping under the covers of your best friend's bed, you let out a tear, feeling a sadly familiar ache tugging at your heart.

Max and you cross paths again a year later, at your high school graduation ceremony. You and Victoria are among the top students in your class, and you're invited to go on stage to give a speech with eight other people. One of these people is Niels. Your boyfriend. You've been together for a few months now. He welcomes you on stage, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek before holding you close. In the audience, your eyes meet those of your parents, proud. Those of Victoria's parents, proud. And those of Max. Icy.

The speeches go by quickly, and just before the buffet begins, you apologize to Niels and your parents, saying you need to make a quick stop at the restroom. In the deserted corridors of your high school, your heels click against the floor, soon joined by the sound of another pair of shoes. You turn around, surprised, seeing Max approaching in the distance.

"Niels Harmen?" you hear the boy say. "Really?"

"What do you want?" you reply, eyes cold.

"That guy was still picking his nose last year."

"It's good that he stopped, then," you respond, annoyed.

"Why are you dating him?"

The question makes you laugh. Not a sincere laugh. A laugh that says "mind your own business" and "screw you" at the same time. An ironic, ugly laugh that you don't even recognize.

"When we kiss, I'm not afraid that he'll reject me the next second," you reply, even though you know it's hitting below the belt.

Max scoffs, crossing his arms.

"Is it what it is? Some sort of revenge?"

"I'm not seeking revenge on anyone. My life doesn't revolve around you," you spit before turning on your heels.

You haven't taken a step before a hand grabs your wrist. You already know what's going to happen. So you try to resist. You know you shouldn't turn around. That if your eyes meet his, you'll fall back in. Start another round of false hopes. Disillusionments. Heartaches.

Yet, you do. You turn around, and, of course, his lips find yours. It's almost routine now, mechanical. You close your eyes, your heart torn between the joy of feeling his touch again, and the anticipation of the pain that will undoubtedly assail you in a few hours. When he'll reject you, again.

You're lost in each other when the sound of applause brings you crashing back to earth. The two of you quickly pull away before turning towards the source of the noise. Sanne.

"Don't you have a boyfriend waiting for you?" the girl asks with a fake smile.

"Get out of here, Sanne," Max says like a warning.

"What happened to "I'm not interested in her", Max?" Sanne asks, one hand on her hip. "Or to "She's just a kid, and not even my type"? Or, wait, what was it, the last time?" Sanne continues, stroking her chin. "Oh, yeah. "She was just there, and I was bored"."

You look at him, mouth agape, but Max carefully avoids meeting your gaze. Sanne's words tear at your heart. In a way, it's even worse than being rejected by him. You turn on your heels for good this time, passing by Sanne who's looking at you like you're the most despicable thing on earth. You're vaguely aware of Max saying... no, screaming your name, but you keep on walking, not looking back once. For a second, you thought you were gonna cry, break down in tears in the middle of the hallway. But nothing comes. You don't feel anything. Your heart has given up, surrendered. Returning to the ceremony, you smile at your parents before settling next to your best friend.

"Have you seen Max?" Victoria asks, and you don't miss how the mention of his name doesn't make your heart flutter, for the first time in years.

"Nope," you reply, smiling at her.

Three years later, you're in Victoria's car, on your way to the Zandvoort Grand Prix. You don't even know why you agreed to come with your best friend. You don't watch F1. You have no interest in the sport. Curiosity, your inner voice whispers. You wanted to see him again. You shake your head to dispel those intrusive thoughts when Victoria turns to you.

"I'm so glad you agreed to come. Max is so happy, too."

"What?" you ask, turning to her.

"He told me over the phone. Is that so surprising?"

Well, it is. Max and you haven't exchanged a word since the last ones thrown in the hallway of your high school. But Victoria, of course, doesn't know that. Victoria thinks you're friendly. Like two people who grew up together, gravitating in the same universe without ever colliding.

"He got us VIP passes", your best friend continues. "We'll be able to go everywhere, even see the pit stops!"

"How kind of him," you mumble.

"Look," she says, looking over at you. "I know Max wasn't the kindest... or the warmest, growing up. But he's changed, so much. You'd be surprised!"

"Oh, I bet," you say, smiling at her.

Victoria parks her small car in the VIP space, and a RedBull staff member greets you, handing you two passes before guiding you through the paddock. A stress you haven't felt in three years creeps into your head, into your body. Your thoughts collide, your hands are sweaty. You're beginning to wonder if coming here was a good idea after all when you spot him. At the end of the aisle, in his racing suit. Helmet in hand. Victoria's phone suddenly rings, and she apologizes, gesturing for you to continue without her.

You take the few steps that separate you from the driver. He's changed. So much. His teenage roundness has vanished, replaced by sharp features. His hair is longer, his eyes darker. He gives you a warm smile that twists your insides. It's impossible, you think. After all these years. Having so much power, so much hold over me.

"You came," he says, still smiling.

"For her," you reply curtly.

"Well..." he says, laughing softly. "She's not the one racing."

The silence falls again. Cold. Heavy. You turn your head, spotting Victoria a little further away, hoping she hangs up soon.

"You look beautiful," he says, and you know he means it despite you wearing the blankest blue jeans and white shirt ever made.

Silence, again.

"I'd hoped you'd no longer be mad at me." Max says, and you scoff.

"I'm not mad at you."

"You're cold."

"You broke my heart."

The driver winces, looking away.

"I should have called," he says, softly.

"I wouldn't have answered," you reply.

"I should have come to see you," Max starts again.

"I wouldn't have opened the door."

Your eyes meet his. Fire and ice.

"Well, I should have done something. Fight for you," he continues.

"Fight for who?" you ask. "The girl who was just there?"

Max runs his hand through his hair, embarrassed.

"You were never just that to me. You were so much more. I was just too young, too stupid to realize it. I have. Now."

You hadn't planned on getting into deep explanations with Max today. Not here. Not now. You're about to respond when Victoria returns, linking her arm with yours.

"Maxie!" she says, kissing his cheek. "Are you catching up on lost time? Did she tell you she's still dating Niels? Rumor has it that he's going to propose soon!"

Max's eyes glance down at your hand, and something in his demeanor shifts. It might be the breath he holds, or the way his shoulders seem to slump, defeated.

"She hasn't," he says, smiling faintly at his sister.

"We should go," Victoria says. "The race is about to start. Can we go to the stands?"

"Yes, no problem," Max replies as Victoria begins to head towards the garage, leaving you face to face once again.

"Congrats on your future engagement, I guess," he says.

"Thank you. I'm going to break up with him," you reply, crossing your arms.

"What?" Max says, astonished.

"It doesn't feel right. Him and I."

"If it has anything to do with me, please, tell me," Max breathes, as you avoid his gaze. "I was so focused on my career these past few years that I never wrote to you. I knew I didn't have the time to make it work. I knew it'd be selfish. Unfair to you," Max admits.

"Here you are, once again, thinking that my life revolves around you", you say, smirking at him. "I'm not waiting for you, Max. I haven't been for a while now."

The driver nods, swallowing hard.

"Of course," he says. "I'm sorry for assuming."

"I'm not against the idea of grabbing a drink with you sometime, though," you say, winking at him. "Just text me when you're free."

"I will," he says quickly, blue eyes boring into yours.

"See you around," you say, running to catch up with Victoria.

Watching you leave, Max stands there, grinning like an idiot, before unlocking his phone.

"How about tonight?"

Sent.

[highvern]

Waited

Pairing: Min Yoongi x fem!reader

Genre: smut (18+)

warnings: mentions of mental health/poor self image, drug use (weed), alcohol consumption, cheating, violence (nothing explicit), oral, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, degrading, spanking, marking, jealous Yoongi, rip Namjoon, bi Taehyung

Length: ~4.2k

Note: this originally was gonna be a short FWB smut but alas nothing turns out like i plan hahahahahahahahah shoot me thank you @the-boy-meets-evil and @onlyhuis for subjecting yourselves to this mess.

Summary: Best friends since childhood means you can tell each other anything. Right?

m.list + support my work

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!

Yoongi enters your world three days before you turn six years old. His parents buy the house across the cul de sac that's sat empty for months and show up with a moving truck and their two sons. While they're unpacking your mom walks over to welcome them to the neighborhood and you hide behind her leg to stare at the boy with a choppy bowl cut who stares right back from behind his own mom’s leg.

You dub Yoongi your best friend in fourth grade. It’s a silent declaration but one he quickly falls in line with. He’d always been the smallest in class, easy cannon fodder for bullies that want to push around the quiet kid. One time too many people called him stupid under their breath and you snapped. After school detention for three weeks and a handwritten apology addressed to the boy with a broken nose is the price you pay but no one messes with him again after that. 

The first time you realize your best friend is handsome is senior year of high school. An hour before prom your date decided he wanted to go with someone else and Yoongi, who had zero interest in “cliche, organized humiliation rituals” trugged across the pavement to your house in a borrowed tux too big in the shoulders.

He posed for pictures while both your parents cooed, hands respectable at your waist as you both smiled through the awkwardness. His brother drops you both off and slips a contraband flask full of shitty alcohol in Yoongi’s hand before taking off. 

You pretended not to notice when Jisung and Yoongi both simultaneously disappeared, only to reappear twenty minutes later; Yoongi sporting bruised knuckles and the traces of what would become a black eye come the next morning along with a split lip. Instead, you take another sip of what must be gasoline and pull him to the dance floor. During the singular slow dance he allotted, with your head against his shoulder and the reak of his older brother’s after shave burning your nose, you realized you wouldn’t mind if he kissed you. 

The rest of the night is spent emptying your guts in Yoongi’s ensuite because your parents were so confident nothing would happen between the two of you that sleepovers at Yoongi’s were too common.

The first time you kiss Yoongi is also the night you lose your virginity. Your sophomore year boyfriend broke up with you two days before finals. Yoongi couldn’t stand Taehyung or the way you apparently believed he shit rainbows so you expected him to find nothing but joy in the news. 

But when you showed up outside his apartment, elephant tears streaking down your face as you gasped around an explanation, Yoongi said nothing. He simply walked into the kitchen, pulled out the bottle of liquor he saved for special occasions, and passed it to you along with a shot glass. 

He let your drunken sobs stain the collar of his shirt until you laughed yourself hysterical at the irony of it all. How Taehyung claimed he wasn’t ready for anything serious when he pursued you first, how he broke up with you after you told him you weren’t ready for anything physical. 

“Fuck him,” Yoongi grumbled, burrowed between the pillows of his bed.

Your head lulled onto his shoulder with a snort, “I think that was part of the problem.”

Then you kissed him and Yoongi kissed you back. And when you planted yourself in his lap and touched him, he took the chance to touch you too. At some point your clothes were gone, allowing your best friend to take as much liberty as he liked. But even though the details are fuzzy you know he was gentle and devout. Yoongi took all the time in the world, pushing and pushing until you almost broke and melted to the floor.

And after all was said and done you cried while Yoongi held you until your eyes swelled shut.

The next day Taehyung called and asked to work things out. Like a naive fool you agreed and then two years passed in a blink before you caught him fucking the doe eyed underclassmen from his fraternity the night of graduation. 

You wanted Yoongi but the last time you ran crying to him about Taehyung sat in the back of your mind. Since that day he’d taken a step back, missing your calls or dodging plans. Still your best friend but not present like before. Half your own fault because he warned you getting back with Taehyung was a bad idea but rather than listen, you told him to fuck off and mind his business. So he did and managed to get a girlfriend in the process.

But the universe has a weird way of shoving people together. Sipping from a bottle on the steps to the should-be-condemned house you rented with six other girls, eyes glassy and unfocused, you didn’t realize someone was calling your name until he sat down beside you. 

“I heard,” Yoongi says, snagging your drink and downing his own mouthful before going back for seconds.

Your lips bruise under your teeth, the pain barely managing to consume your focus away from the new wave of tears threatening to crop up. “That I’m an idiot?”

Cold hands find the blanket wrapped around your shoulders, pulling it back up in the places it's dropped before curling around your frame and wrangling you into the boney side of his. 

“That Taehyung is still an asshole.”

It's too familiar. Your hands tangled in the fabric of his shirt, his neck wet with your cries. Yoongi barely managed to get you upstairs and in bed without fuss, a plethora of pathetic cries none of your roommates are around to hear blurring your vision. 

“Where’s Tiffany?” You ask, fumbling into the mattress. You’ll ask him anything to get your mind of the hurt.

Yoongi fought to tuck you in, shoving you back into the pillows everytime you tried to get up and attempted to convince him to go to the bars where your classmates are currently celebrating. Where Taehyung is probably strung out across whoever will give him the time of day.

He lets you pull him into a hug when a new wave of sadness erupts. It’s the first time you get a good look at him in months despite the blur in your vision. Silver in the streetlights flooding through the slits of the blinds, the dark dye he used to appease his mom washing out at the fried tips of his hair. Any more to drink and you’d convince yourself this is all some cruel dream. A ghost of the past haunting you in misery. 

Yoongi might as well be. Nearly two years gone from the face of the Earth, only to be caught in short glimpses at parties or between class changes. Both of you spent the time reserved for each other with new people.

You missed him. 

He turns to leave too soon; already halfway to the door before you speak.

“Stay?” 

Even in your double vision you see the crack in Yoongi’s mask, the regret swelling to the surface. “She’s waiting back at my place.”

The summer comes with the suffocating muggy heat of your childhood home. Your parents fail to stifle their thrill Taehyung is out of the picture, more content to pretend he never existed in the first place. 

Everyday blurs together, a routine you’ve maintained since you can remember. Hot days by the pool in your parents backyard (without Yoongi hiding in the shade), dinner at the greasy restaurant by the river with friends (but not Yoongi), and packing your room one last time (which holds too many memories of Yoongi).

The news comes from your mom. 

She probes for information about the last time you heard from your neighbor turned friend turned stranger, complaining she misses having him around like when you were kids, asking what he’s been up to lately. It’s evident by your short response you haven’t heard yet.

He’s on the dilapidated swing set in his parents backyard when you find him. Shoulders slumped, toeing in the dirt, while he gazes beyond the treeline. 

Silently, you take a seat in the second swing, ignoring the way the wood creaks under your weight. Without a word he hands you his phone. The screen is bright with the last messages.

Tiffany: you just seem to have a lot going on…

Tiffany: i don’t know if I can handle all of it

You hand back the device. There's nothing to say. Cursing her till you’re blue in the face won’t make him feel better and neither will platitudes. Yoongi won’t believe anything contrary to what she said, at least not right now when he’s reeling from a blow to his most vulnerable parts.

So you sit in silence until the moon swells in the sky. He isn’t ready to talk about it when you both fumble down to his parents basement. Or when he hits the Rick and Morty bong Seokjin bought him for Secret Santa years ago. Definitely not when he tries to kiss you and you let him. And not when you end up in his lap, both naked and fighting to detach from what exists beyond the tattered upholstery of the couch. 

Yoongi finally speaks hours later, shoulder to shoulder in the comforting murky darkness of his room. You both still have the heated glow of bare skin sticking together where you touch but it turns clammy when he spills his guts.

He told her those three words after meeting her parents the week before. The first girl you’ve ever seen him be serious about. She said them back but Yoongi didn’t believe her. And the proof he was right sits immortalized in texts messages.

Each word cuts like a knife. Admitting his hurt, his vulnerabilities and weaknesses before shifting the focus to something safer like your break up from May and if Taehyung has tried anything.

He softens when your lips crest his shoulder. The lingering franticness fades with each peck as you move across his chest, then his throat, then his lips. Because you know Yoongi wants to talk about this once and never again. Needs to put it behind him before it becomes too real.

You leave for the city two weeks later and Yoongi follows after managing to snag a shitty IT job. He spends more time at your apartment than his own and when the girl you met through a roommate group moves out, Yoongi moves in.

Maybe it becomes too common of an occurrence. What was once reserved as an escape from the crushing weight of rejection, a way to find comfort in each other more than before, turned into a quick fix at the slightest annoyance. When you’re too pent up or Yoongi had a hard day. If you were feeling insecure after another failed date, or he simply wanted an easy lay with someone who knew how to get him off without the awkward pauses of learning.

Now, Yoongi bends you over the counter at three in the morning, lapping at your cunt like he didn’t have you sitting on his face before leaving for Namjoon's apartment to pre-game. The dig of the marble edge in your ribs is less alluring than the comfort of your bed; but what Yoongi wants he more often than not gets, so how do you refuse when he shuffles you into an Uber with hunger in his gaze and possessiveness in the grip on your thigh. 

“Yoongi,” you sigh. Reaching back, one of your hands anchors in the short tufts of his hair, pressing him firmer into the ache of your pussy. 

The tug of the cool counter top against your nipples works in his favor, leaving you desperate with a hitch in your throat each time you rock back into his waiting tongue. It dips into your opening, wedged between his fingers that dig into your walls just right after years of practice. Yoongi knows how to push all your buttons, he’s sewed half of them on. 

Your forehead meets the marble on the next swell of his tongue except this time is across your ass and punctuated with a bite you’ll feel next time you sit. A harsh clench around his fingers grants you sinful drag of his tongue across the hole only ever explored by him. 

“Fuc–Yoongi!” 

Sloppy kisses follow your spine until he’s at your ear with his cock resting against the meat of your ass. You're bent back at the waist once again so he can pluck at your nipples the way he likes, until you're shuddering away and pleading for mercy in a way meant to spur him further.

“Bet Namjoon wouldn’t do this,” Yoongi grunts with a tease of his cock inside, bare.

He’ll never let you forget the semester of freshman year you drooled for his friend's dick while Namjoon remained none the wiser. Every unconscious shut down sent Yoongi into a sadistic fit of laughter until you cut your losses and called it quits. 

You know why he’s bringing it up now. Namjoon looked good tonight. Newly single with a buzzcut that ruined most men’s allure. Maybe you contemplated re-igniting the old flame when he first showed up but now there's history and comradery that didn't exist in your younger days and it's too complicated just for the chance to satiate your curiosity. They’re all the same reasons you shouldn’t be fucking your best friend since grade school but none of it seems to have the same weight.

It didn’t matter what you decided because Yoongi saw enough temptation in your gaze to bring it up like he isn’t the one fucking you regularly.

Your pants fog across the marble. “Should we call and find out?” 

His palm stings into your ass, heating the skin on impact. The opportunity to neg him into another smack passes too quickly. You’re already at the mercy of Yoongi’s mouth on yours, the taste of whiskey, stale cigarettes, and your pussy less than appealing but his tongue is hot when he licks behind your teeth.

A hand takes up the work between your legs, rough and rushed as you trapeze down the hallway towards the bedroom. Yoongi thumbs at your clit with intent. You nearly collapse against the wall with buckled knees from the onslaught of too much stimulation.

Breaching the bedroom door proves too much a struggle. Yoongi bounces off the door jam from a rough grope against his zipper which leaves you flailing before catching in the corner of the mattress. His room is too damn small for the king bed he insisted on but it makes for a great backdrop to your fucking. Miles better than the more practical queen hidden in your room further down the hall.

You manage to push him off long enough to dig your knees into the sheets, crawling to the pillows with an arch you know he’ll rib you for later.

“Coming?” You ask over your shoulder, eyeing the flash of his boxers creeping through the opening of his zipper.

Flopping on your back, you splay across the over abundance of pillows like a queen while Yoongi works off his pants. His hair is a mess and a bruise the size of your mouth blooms high enough on his neck he’ll have to wear turtlenecks for the next two weeks. “Spread your legs.”

“Do you one better.” It's a goad in the most obvious sense. He likes to watch you huff, failing to get yourself off until he intervenes and gives exactly what you need. So you throw your legs wide, bent at the knees just to make it clearer in the faint light spilling from the window, and sink a hand down and play with the mess he caused. “Mmmm, Yoongi.” 

“Finger it for me,” he drawls.

Muscles melt at the first pass inside your already battered walls. Not as deft as his fingers but you won’t tell him that unprompted. Yoongi’s ego is big enough when it comes to your sex life, fueled by the knowledge he’s collected many of your firsts. But the way he palms over his underwear in mimic of your rhythm tempts you to break that rule.

“Come here.” 

Yoongi just smirks at the demand, pushing the mess of his pants off until he’s bare and the maroon head of his cock makes you drool.  “You come here.”

“I’m not playing naked chicken.” You growl. “Come fuck me before I get my vibrator.” 

Flipping on your front with your ass in the air, you drive a hard bargain Yoongi’s never been capable of saying no to. The bed dips behind you, knees between your own, shuffling them wider so he can stretch you until you’re pliant and aching.

His chest melts to your back, sticking uncomfortable but you don’t care because it feels good. Like he’s consuming you. “How bad do you want it?” Yoongi bites into your shoulder.

“Yoongi, fuck.” Your arms collapse under the first rush of his hips, spin dipping harshly to take every inch until he’s flat against your rear.

In a blink, you’re parallel to the mattress, pinned under his weight. It’s pathetic for so early in the game but Yoongi is the same man who gave you so many orgasms you’ve cried so it only stands to reason he crumbles your bravado like it's nothing. 

Sniffling in his hold, you turn to nose at his cheek over your shoulder. “Please, fuck me.” 

“Shit,” he spits with a harsh thrust. “You’re so fucking tight for me.” 

The next press of his hips leaves you heaving. Your hands scramble when he cants a bruising pace against your ass. Hard. All while every noise he tries to hide sings straight into your ear.

With immense effort, you wiggle onto your back. Yoongi meets you with a kiss, tongue to tongue while he works back inside where you both need him most.

The callous of his palm rakes against your throat, not squeezing, just a possessive firmness.

“H-harder,” you beg, nails leaving crescents in his shoulder.

Yoongi hitches your thigh over his; slowing so he can fuck you deeper, crushing every noise hiding in your gut out. 

Shocked from the sudden rush against your clit, your leg kicks out straight. It’ll leave you sore in the hips come morning but right now you don’t even register the discomfort. “Oh, oh, oh!” 

“Like that?” Somehow he manages to drag the head of his cock deeper from the praise.

“Just like that,” you pant into his mouth.

He leans back to watch your decay into desperation but stops when you tug him back by the sensitive roots of his hair. Cracking open your eyes, you find his brown ones inches away. Forehead to forehead while you both synthesize into a heap of flushed skin and need.

Fingers intertwined, Yoongi pins your hand on the pillow. Then he stares. Not at your face as you crest the first wave of an orgasm but your fingers curled between his. Like he’s never done it before, like he doesn’t know exactly how you two got in this position. 

“Oh my god, Yoongi.” 

You cum hard. Nearly managing to drive him out from the force to your insides. Every muscle twisting tighter and tighter until it breaks and when you pull his mouth back to yours all you can do is shake under his lips with cracked mewls.

Yoongi might be shaking too but he swells inside you with a groan, collapsing into your neck before your brain catches up to consider the idea.

Dodging an attempt at a final kiss, he favors his lips on your throat. Fleeting wet pecks that get you choking on air. Then your breasts where he takes up his abandoned work on your nipples, teeth flashing across the sensitive peaks until your shoulders cave and you're desperate for him again; grinding into the fingers he’s so readily supplies.

He’s fucked you like this before. When he has something to prove to the non-existent entity constantly creeping on his subconscious, when he feels he isn’t good enough in some intangible way. Asking him what's wrong won’t do anything. Yoongi will tell you when he’s ready; if he ever is. Years of friendship and the fear you’ll see a part of him capable of scaring you away still eats him alive. So you’ll give him whatever reassurance he needs this way and hope he understands.

Your second orgasm comes faster than the first. Trails of the previous pleasure pushing you swiftly along. Yoongi latches his lips around your clit and sucks until spots flash and your thighs nearly crush his head.

“Fuck, Yoongi. Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You cry, threatening to fold in half under his fingers. “G-gonna cum again.”

Flares of lightning in your blood explode. Throat raw from wailing, Yoongi works you through until you dig your ankle into his ribs and kick him off.

The cold air in the room helps cool your feverish skin unlike the dark haired man flopping next to you. It’s quiet around two sets of gasping breaths and the rain tapping at the window.

Shoulder to shoulder, you calm in the drum of the overhead fan. Yoongi’s fingers tangling and untangling with your own confirms your suspicion. Whatever he needs to tell you bubbles below the surface, swirling until he finds the safest words to share his feelings. There's no point in guessing but it doesn’t stop you from spiraling through the possibilities.

The major suspects lack any clear indication. His date last weekend ended with mutual disinterest. Nothing concerning his job registers in your vague memory. Both your parents were fine the last time you visited months ago. Yoongi’s nephew is fine—

 “I told my mom you're my girlfriend.”

Well that's new. “Oh.”

“It was an accident but—”

“What’d she say?” You cut him off. 

Yoongi hesitates. Your voice doesn’t betray disdain or hope, only reluctant curiosity. If you set too many expectations he’ll clam up and avoid you for months like when he lost his virginity at a party freshman year. Yoongi shares on his terms and you listen.

“That it was about time I got my head out of my ass.”

You wait for him to continue but he doesn’t. Yoongi’s palm slick against your own betrays his nerves, the ghost of squeeze begs for some kind of reassurance he isn’t crazy. 

“Huh.” You exclaim to the ceiling. It’s not the worst idea. And its definitely not the first time you’ve entertained it.

He lets you go the second you tug on your connected hands, anticipating swift rejection that leaves you feeling sour. But you’re rolling into his chest, the now free hand protecting his sternum from the dig of your chin so you can stare him down until he finally blinks your way. You won’t let Yoongi wiggle away from this ten year overdue conversation.

“Is that what you want?”

The answer is clear in his eyes. Yoongi’s mouth rounds over the words to tell you, floundering silently because he’ll admit he isn’t good at things like this. But if it’s worth it to him then you need to hear him say it. 

Rising up, you sit bare in his lap while he works through his nerves. Finally, when your hand cups his cheek and his eyes sink closed, leaning into the warmth, he tells you.

“That’s what I want.”

Your nose wrinkles with a shy smile. “Kinda cliche.”

Yoongi snorts when you kiss him but melts the cold facade swiftly.

“Yeah well,” he huff. “So is losing your virginity to your prom date but let's not talk about that.” Yoongi may spit the words but his hands, gentle where they trace the curve of your sides, betray his euphoria.

“We can talk about that too if you want.” You whisper into his jaw, lips prickling from the shadow growing there. “Prom me probably would have let you fuck her.”

“Yeah?”

You choke on a laugh at the pleased shock on his face. “Yeah, but not after that black eye came in.”

“Cheap fucking shot.” He grumbles under his breath, but you’re already there kissing the words from his lips. Yoongi indulges, melting further into the bed when his tongue timidly slips along yours. After you dip away to press more languid pecks where his cheeks round, he speaks again.  “If I asked you out then what would you have said?”

“Well the only reason I said yes to whats-his-fuck was because someone else was too stubborn to ask me himself.” You hum in his ear. “Does that answer your question?” 

You're on your back in a flash, pinned under your boyfriend who smiles as you flounder and fail to push him off. 

“You need to be nicer to me,” he grunts when you knock out his arms and collapse his chest to yours.

“If you wanted someone nicer, then you had years to figure that out.”

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